#I just don’t have the bandwidth to write it

[morganbritton132]

Highlights of a fic not ever going to be written by me:

- You cannot bug Joyce Byers’ house. She always finds them. She steps on them. The feedback hurts this agent’s ears

- If you can’t bug inside of the house, you bug the outside. It was Johnston’s bright idea to put their bug in the telephone pole outside and they keep picking up interference every time the closest house answer the phone.

- the closest house is Steve Harrington’s. He talks on the phone All. The. Time. He almost never says anything important but occasionally will tell his Italian grandmother with dementia that there are demons in his backyard. They don’t know what that means so they have to monitor every call.

- Every one has a crush on Karen Wheeler.

- They sent an undercover agent into the high school to befriend the kids and gain information. Those kids are not friendly and they are cliquey. This mission was pulled after the agent joined Nancy’s tutoring sessions trying to get information about Barbara Holland and a long haired kid from across the room asked loudly, “What are you, a fed?”

- That cop will punch you, fyi. Prepare for that if you’re doing field work.

- Why are these kids always alone? Why are they always on bikes? Why are they at the arcade talking loudly about the creature???

- Dustin is on a watchlist. They’re all on a watchlist but he’s on a separate one. He’s also on a recruitment list.

-There is a betting pool on when Hopper and Joyce will get together.

-JIM HOPPER HAS BEAR TRAPS OUTSIDE OF HIS HOUSE. WHAT THE FUCK?????

A fic told from the POV of the FBI agent that has to keep track of The Party and their slow descent into madness as The Party continuously disregards every line of the their NDAs

[agent-troi]

I think we have to consider that the if one of the attached-at-the-hip FBI’s-most-unwanted superstar duo gets sick then the other IMMEDIATELY gets sick too. One feels sniffly and then they both show up at the office the next day hazy and feverish (out of dogged determination on Scully’s part and a small amount of shittiness-healed-by-Scully on Mulder’s) and then Skinner walks in like “what the hell happened to you two. why are you both here go home”. They spend every waking moment together if one of them gets ill then it will obviously be mutually so

i agree 100% and i need a fic where this happens immediately

[romanceyourdemons]

ACK i just remembered i am setting my book before the invention of paper. and i have definitely referenced paper several times so i need to have a little ctrl+F party before we progress any further

[alwaysbethewest]

I’m just thinking out loud here but I saw that there’s been some back and forth about the preponderance of age gap fics recently (particularly for Joel Miller x reader). It’s interesting to me after this fandom has spent so much time over the years talking about inclusivity in reader fics and how to write blank slate reader characters, that this trait seems to be treated as falling under a different category. I rarely see an age tagged directly in the pairing the way that “plus sized!Reader” or “Black!Reader” typically would be, as a way of signaling that this reader is meant to represent a certain demographic rather than aiming to be universal (though of course that unlabeled “universal” character is still often actually coded as slim and white 🙃). Listing “21-year-old!Reader” or “younger!Reader” would make it easier for readers to see upfront and skip past these fics (or to seek them out—since every tag on a fic serves as warning to some and enticement to others). Instead, a lot of the time “age gap” is buried within a paragraph of other content notes, and I wonder if that is part of why some people are feeling frustrated about it, that they feel resentful about having to hunt through the warnings to see if the fic is inclusive for them. I guess I’m curious if writers who write young reader/age gap fics look at it like, anybody who is older now was once young so they should still be able to relate, and age is not a fixed trait the way some other things are. Or if they don’t see inclusivity as a goal for reader fics, so that kind of labeling doesn’t matter. Or…?

[bestfluteninja]

:/

[pineappleliar]

how to tell someone no I will not be growing as a person in order to enjoy this piece of media I just don’t like it cause I don’t like it.

hell maybe I don’t even dislike it, I just don’t care about it enough to allow it to make me reevaluate my priorities.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Getting hot under the collar and in the kitchen and on the pool table and...

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 3-4 of 12 - one of the things I'm enjoying about this show is the fact that the introverted super shy uke is having hot fantasies, and the extroverted seme is having the sweet fantasies. It's another way this show is highlighting God being the world's greenest flagged seme BL has ever produced. (And he's being given stiff competition this year - trend alert.)

Anygay: God is so cute and so not cool and so in love and all the consent asking word salad coming out of this boy. I LOVE him. 

Diew: It’s ep 4 so I’ve decided we can talk face-to-face.  God: So how many children do you want? 

The teaching him to play basketball bit, where God politely asks to hold his hand, is so freaking adorable I can’t.

I'm thinking of calling this show the anti-Mame pill.

Blue pill? Red pill? GREEN pill!

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 11 of 12 - We gotta talk. I do like this version, but it’s starting to feel lackluster. Perhaps it always was by comparison to the bright sparkle uniqueness of the original. Perhaps I didn't notice because I was distracted by G4. But now I gotta say it's become a bit disappointing and even my love for G4 can’t seem to bind me to this. Frankly, this show is making me want to watch either the Japanese version, or My School President. It’s never a good sign when a currently airing BL makes me want to stop that and go rewatch an old one I’ve already seen.

NO SINGING.

Meanwhile, the "locked on the rooftop" trope! I haven’t seen that one in years. Cool. Also cute kisses. They learning. 

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - I can’t believe this is ending next week. But also I can. And I have thoughts.

I really love SailubPon. They might be one of my favorite newer pairs on the scene right now. But I just don’t believe in these characters or this couple. I don’t feel like they are going to have a lasting relationship. It feels like they’re just using each other for sex and distraction, and that’s how the script to set it up, and as a result they’re never gonna make it as a couple. As soon as the sexual fire between them burns out, what do they have to build a relationship on? Frankly? That would be fine if this were a modern love drama, and not a BL. But this IS a BL.

Putting the health code violators aside, I really do believe in the secondary pair, but they haven’t been given enough bandwidth to develop as a couple. There’s no way they’re going to adequately resolve Methas and JJ in the final episode.

At this juncture, I’m mostly finding this show annoying. Which in itself is annoying, because I wanted to love it.

Why is it that Thailand, the land of the best food in the world, king of BLs, struggles so hard to produce the restaurant set BL of my dreams? I’m really pissed about this.

That said, the Methas & JJ stuff is killer. Loved JJ running away. So good. Plus the age old decision - love or money? 

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 2-3 of 12 - The issue was me and I've managed to get hold of this show again. The story within the story is so ridiculously badly written I'm going spare. I’m not sure if the outside show is not ALSO badly written. That said, I do love how the 3 writer friends are all shipping our leads. It’s VERY silly. Meanwhile, cohabitation trope is a go. 

I like the side couple too. Stern Daddy + lost puppy is a very cute dynamic, I hope we get more than just crumbs. I actually am enjoying this show now. Ep 3 kinda derailed into this weird chimera novel that they’re all writing together and I’m finding that bit the least interesting, but I adore the domestic components which I think may turn out to be TutorYim's strength (if they're allowed to lean into it). 

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - Man I hope this gets some kind of distribution at some point. It was a pain to find and watch. But I enjoyed it. The focus is more on the seme in Thailand’s version. Which I don’t mind since that's rare in BL, and it’s more August on my screen. It’s all round softer than China’s version but still feels very familiar. I know some fans are struggling with it, but not me.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - I like that Sam’s crafty business espionage has paid off. Them teasing Sam & Yo really had me belly laughing. It was so funny.

Legitimate question. Would one put perfume on one’s cheeks in Thailand, as one does on wrist or sternum? Because of the sniff cheek thing? Scented face powders?

I do feel like with MosBank & SailubPon scorching up our screens, we’re being spoiled by some of Thailand‘s best high heat pairs at the moment.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 12 - It remains kind of sweet and cute. It's also calm and slow moving. Oddly it reminds me of La Cuisine in its style and execution (if not content). I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 7 of 12 - I don’t know. I’m getting bored.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 10fin - Fort’s acting during the break-up was truly great. But I feel for Rak. It’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.

Ultimately this is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and I'm mad I was so bored throughout. So it gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it. Trash watch.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 1-2 of 10 - OMG a uni student who looks young and a... COP! GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. I had to go grey to get it and I hate everything about what I had to do. But ya know what? Fucking worth every single repeated crash-causing advertisement.

I love it. The grumpy lonely little student cook and the cheerful mature police officer. What a fabulous dynamic. Is the cook looking for a boyfriend or a Daddy, and do we care if it has the same result? It is filmed VERY manga style camp. I’m a little nervous about that, but this means it’s also very fluffy and so damn sweet. It made me squeak with the cute. I’m gutted this didn’t get distribution.

Ironic that Tawada Hideya is in a new BL while Sunspot is re-airing.

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - Ah, the gays are doubting the bisexual again. How familiar. I like how this one is paced and moving through time, even if the relationship seems to be going comparatively slowly by contrast. I love the way Sahashi is always looking at Natsume, even when they’re in conversation with someone else. Ah yearning. I think the conflict was kind of inevitable, given the two personalities of the protagonists, and I like that. (No manufactured angst here.) But I still hope they can repair the breach and I’m still interested. Frankly this is so classically Japan - I don’t know what story beats it’s following and I’m not entirely sure where it’s going, but I kinda like that unpredictability. Makes me think it could go into "must you, Japan?" territory but fingers crossed.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - I'm enjoying it very much. I could do without the girl character. I know she’s more interesting than most (this is Japan after all), but she’s not really for me. It’s the complexity of the connection between the leads (and why they like each other) that’s being executed so brilliantly in this show (and in the manga, FYI). Both actors are so on point with their roles and the nuanced emotions required of these characters that every time it’s only them interacting I'm riveted. I could do without the rest of the cast tho.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 1 of 8 - I have a confession to make, I’ve been watching this whole series as it goes along. But this is the pair I absolutely like the most. I’m not sure I would necessarily recommend any of the installments, and I’m not sure how this one is going to go, but I’m VERY invested in this particular couple. They are so pretty!!!! This is a true friends-to-lovers struggle. I like that a lot. (Reminds me of I Cannot Reach You but a different dynamic.) Did I mention how pretty they are? And we already know they gonna kiss well. I bet the uncut version is stellar.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - It's no one's funeral, turns out! Reports are in - not only are there kisses but it ends happily with wedding plans. So I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. I'm enjoying it. Ya'll know I adored Chinese BL before censorship. It has a certain unhinged quality I very much apreciate (and is the reason I'm so tolerant of the Thai pulps) that I think will marry well with Wuxia's effervescent and ever-present tropes. Watch me suffer here.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan starring Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn team. With their powers combined they are...

fine.

This is a fine BL. The fight scene was fun and I like the meet cute. I’m not sure about the chemistry of the leads, but I think they’ll probably do okay. I admit I’m struggling a bit with a singing and the music. Are you surprised? I think I like it enough, but I’m not wowed.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - Oh! Out of the blue attack kiss. What IS this show? I don’t get it at all. Bah. I guess they’re dating now. It’s… so odd...

It's airing but...

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) - A rich boy at uni suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I have a source, but I've decided to hold off and binge if it ends okay, since it's only 8 eps. I depend upon y'all to tell me if it's safe.

8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Again delayed? Not sure what's going on with this one but the continued push-backs do not bode well.

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!! (Yeah this is gonna sit here until then).

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming This Month!

8/22 The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) 12 eps - announced in 2023 this one has a high school set stepbrothers trope and is reputed to be high heat. From Taiwan! It's made for me. Based on a novel Mou Mou from the Your Name Engraved Herein folks, so it could go dark. Still, I'm very excited.

8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

WHY IS HE SO FINE?

I truly belly laughed. Sam & Yo did not go in the direction I expected, but this scene alone made me not mind that they curtailed the suffering Sam was rightfully due. (SunsetXVibes)

Tall boyfriend armpit, anyone? (Monster Next Door)

The two extremes of BL in one show (Long Beans indeed).

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

[nolita-fairytale]

don't you worry, there's still time | chef luca x fem!reader, feat. marcus brooks

summary: after losing his mother, marcus searches for joy and stillness in copenhagen. you and luca, who are more than happy to host, decide to take a big next step in your relationship. a oneshot from the world of 'burn your life down.'

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, light smut, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 5.8k

listen to: the playlist

a/n: wow, i missed this world! who is ready for the reveal of chef's restaurant name?! while i don't think i have the bandwidth to write another full series (nor a linear story to tell) i'm thinking of creating a second part to 'burn your life down' where we just get to drop in and see what they're up to. thoughts??

chef luca masterlist | full masterlist

After a tumultuous holiday season, it doesn’t take long for Sydney to realize that her friend is in need of a little help. A reprieve, she so kindly explained to both Marcus and Carmy when she’d proposed the idea. 

It was Sydney this time, who called Luca, knowing that she and Carmy would have to find something to do with Marcus. It wasn’t fair – that he’d lost his mom just before Thanksgiving – and they both agreed that Marcus needed to get out of dodge. Quick to act, Carmy set up a few stages in NYC for a week or so, which, while seemed to inspire Marcus, seemed to only plunge him further into a slump come Christmas. “I don’t know. I think we gotta send him on some kinda… eat, pray, love trip. The guy can only sulk on my couch for so long before I consider jumping out of the window,” Sydney says, her attempt to lighten the mood with humor still genuine. “It’s getting sad, Carm. Like… real fuckin’ sad.”

“You’re right. Uh… what about Copenhagen?” Carmy pitches with a shrug, because he knows what all consuming grief feels like. 

“Again?” she asks, uncertain of whether it’s the best choice that they could make. 

“Yeah,” Carmy shrugs in response. “Think he got a lot of it last time. Could be good for him to go back to somewhere familiar… work with Luca again. You don’t think it’s a-?”

“No I do! I just-,” Sydney hesitates, though she knows her business partner makes a good point. “Familiarity will be good for him. To be around people he can trust.”

“You want me to uh-,” Carmy begins to offer, figuring he’ll make the call. 

“Probably best if I explain the situation. Just ‘cause, you know, I know more of what’s going on… just send me his info and I’ll call later,” Sydney interjects. 

Carmy agrees with a curt nod before adding in:

“Uh… okay yeah. Yeah.”

*

You get plenty of time to prepare for Marcus’ visit, performing all kinds of fancy footwork to arrange a proper visit – a week’s worth of time spent staging and living in Copenhagen. When Luca finds out that the prolific houseboat, a chef retreat of sorts that’s always been an option for lodging, is booked for the week and a half that Marcus plans on visiting, you offer up your place without hesitation. 

The arrangement goes as follows: while Marcus stays at yours at no cost, you’ll stay with Luca for the duration of the time. 

This is how you find yourself at the massive Ikea on Dybbølsbro on a Saturday morning with Luca, in search of a set of fresh bed linens intended for guests. 

“I really should host more. And Astrid said she and Lina were planning a trip out here so… why not kill two birds with one stone?” you’d reasoned to your boyfriend, making a strong case for why you and Luca should make this little shopping trip. 

“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you run your hand over a set of the display sheets, checking for softness. 

“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors. 

Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:

“No, I meant for me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new bedding.” 

And expensive ones too. 

But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily fall along the shelf. 

“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile. 

You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip. 

“I want you to feel at home… at my place."

“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him. 

“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be. You know… if you want it to be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes. 

“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”

“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store. 

“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?” 

“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”

Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.

Connection

When Marcus arrives in Copenhagen, you’ve arranged your home with the most comfort in mind, having already packed a week’s worth of things and left for Luca’s. You can only imagine what he must be going through, deciding that something like that – losing your mother – though inevitable, is your goddamn worst nightmare. 

“Marcus, 

Enjoy your stay and please reach out if you need anything. I can’t wait to meet you!”

…is the note that you leave him, along with a few morning pastries you picked up from your favorite baggeri across the street, and your number scribbled down at the bottom of the notepad. 

As Marcus arrives, his eyes drawn immediately to your note and gift, Marcus smiles to himself, noticing that you left a very nice looking bottle of wine on the counter as well. He’s moved by your generosity, considering you’ve never met, and the fact that you’re willing to take so much care, extend this much kindness to a stranger, causes a wave of softness to wash over him. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can find softness again – the last few months riddled with pain, grief, and numbness to get through the days. 

While he came here to work, encouraged by his friends that a change of scenery may do his broken heart some good, it’s the first time Marcus has had a chance to be still. His feelings of grief sit heavier here and it catches him off guard, uncertain that he’s quite ready to sit with them yet. He pushes aside the thought, focusing on exploring your home and unpacking his bags. Marcus knows how to stay busy – he’s become an expert at it by now – reminding himself that he’s got work at 5 am sharp tomorrow.

*

“A little too much, chef. Take it down by about 15 grams,” Luca directs, his voice even and sure as he inspects the balls of dough that Marcus currently shapes. 

“Yes, chef,” Marcus nods in understanding, plopping the ball of dough back on the scale to adjust the measurement. 

The two of them work like this for the rest of the morning, Luca treading carefully while keeping things professional, while Marcus buries himself in the work – something that feels good, safe, right. 

He’s missed this. While Marcus has one chef he works with directly at the restaurant, he’s the expert – the head patissier. He misses being surrounded by excellence, getting to be a student of someone who is just as driven, if not more, and inspired. It’s good, quiet, calm, yet there’s a focus and intensity in Luca’s kitchen that feels like a breath of fresh air. 

His stage trip to New York has been more of a mess than beneficial. Maybe it had been the chaos of the city, or the chaos of the chefs he was working with. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus, though hungry for a distraction, hadn’t quite been ready to walk directly into the line of fire yet.

As Marcus’ practiced hands move with the dough, there’s a newfound confidence in the way that he works that's not lost on Luca. Luca watches his friend carefully, pride swelling in his chest as his mentee makes the adjustment with ease and diligence.

“Can I join you?” Luca asks, gesturing towards Marcus' workstation. 

“‘Course, chef,” Marcus replies, his response short yet reverent. 

As Luca joins him, finding a space to the right of Marcus, he busies his hands with rolling each perfectly measured ball of dough into mini boules, ready to proof. The two of them work quietly, side by side, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. He can feel it – the weight that lays so heavily on Marcus' heart – but Luca doesn’t want to bring it up, uninterested in forcing the conversation. Especially about something so painful, something he knows that Marcus has barely begun working through. 

“Thanks, again. For uh… you know… letting me come work,” Marcus begins, momentarily checking in with Luca to gauge a reaction. 

“‘Course,” Luca replies, his answer instantaneous. “You’re welcome here any time, mate.” 

“Yeah?” Marcus asks, stealing a glance in Luca’s direction.

“Yeah,” Luca responds with a certain nod. 

“And uh… shit. I can’t thank your girlfriend enough for letting me crash at her place,” Marcus adds, as he works through his discomfort and overwhelm from the wave of feelings that begin to bubble up in his chest.

“You can thank her yourself on Saturday,” Luca brings up, excited over the fact that Marcus will not only be meeting his girlfriend, but staging at her restaurant too. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you.” 

Marcus nods slowly, his hands the only steady thing about him as he continues to focus on his work. 

“I just mean-, well, she didn’t have to-. ‘S not like either of you owed it to me or anything and I-. You guys just really came through…” Marcus trails off, wanting to make his gratitude clear. It means more to him that he can articulate so instead he settles for, “So thank you. Again.”

Luca shrugs with an aplomb about him as he returns with, “We got you, mate.” He pauses before continuing, fully aware that Marcus isn’t quite comfortable with the feelings that have presented themself in this moment. “And the way I see it, I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you – for our conversation the last time you were here – so we really do owe you for it.”

This time Luca makes an effort to check in with Marcus, gauging his emotional capacity as he concludes with:

“But that’s not what any of this is about: debts, who owes who what. We were both more than happy to host you. That’s what mates are for.”

It’s not till the end of the next shift that it hits him, and Marcus finds himself sitting outside of the restaurant on a bench across the street. He’s not sure whether it’s the jet lag or the exhaustion of the 5 am start time in another time zone, but it hits him all at once, like a ton of bricks. Suddenly consumed with the feelings that he’s been trying his best to avoid, all he can do is pause, completely caught off guard by the strength of them. 

Quietly, Luca joins him, having spotted him on his way home, rerouting himself in Marcus’ direction instead. 

All he can think of are the words you’ve asked him, and he you, time and time again – the ones that cut right to the core of you each and every time – that show you how much he cares. 

“How’s your heart?” Luca asks Marcus, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench together in silence. 

And how is his heart? 

He’s not sure how to answer, considering it’s been a while since he’s really had a chance to check in, the crippling reality of this great loss is too much to bear alone. 

His heart is broken, shattered into an infinite amount of pieces. 

He, and his heart will never be the same again and he doesn’t know where or how he’ll ever put it back together. 

His heart is… lost, in desperate need of finding a soft place to land. 

Marcus takes a while to answer, racking his brain for any semblance of a cohesive answer. 

He waits. And then he waits. 

Until finally, he can answer. 

“I uh… don’t know. But I’m hoping this trip will help me figure that out.”

Creativity 

“do you remember the 21st night of september? love was changin' the minds of pretenders while chasin' the clouds away.” (earth, wind, and fire.)

Everything about the way you run your kitchen feels different than what he’s used to. 

It’s sure as hell different from his last stage trip to New York, Marcus thinks to himself.

With Carmy and Syd, working with them, there’s a buzz of chaos that runs underneath even the most organized and efficient service. It’s something integral to what they have, gives an edge to The Bear that seems to make it hum in all the right ways. Even with Luca, who comes from fine dining and Michelin-starred restaurants, there’s a quiet and determined focus – an intensity to his work – even without the undercurrent of chaos. 

But this. But you. 

Your kitchen somehow teeters the line of organized chaos and reckless play so well that Marcus understands why this works – why it’s efficient. 

Still, he watches as you and your staff dance – no, literally dance – around each other to the highly recognizable Earth, Wind, and Fire tune. Mathilde sings along while chopping chives for the brothy mushroom grain bowl, while, mid-phrase, manages to yell out a short command to a line cook in Danish. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus catches Jesper working the dining room, while you finish plating two more dishes, ready to be walked out. 

It’s as if you find focus in the center of all the noise, somewhere between the electric energy between you, Mathilde, and your staff, and the feel-good vibes and homeyness of the restaurant that you’ve created. 

You had been more than welcoming when Marcus had walked through the doors of your restaurant, Kokuore, mere hours ago. You’d given him the tour, shown him which station he’d be working this evening, then warmly introduced him to your entire team before family meal started. Marcus can’t stop moving, too afraid to be still in fear of falling apart in the presence of how comforting you’ve been. 

And this? Your kitchen. It’s all joy, connection, and artistry. 

It’s not hard for him to see why Luca fell in love with you. 

“Marcus, feel free to take a break,” he hears you say, as you nod towards the dining room through the open kitchen. 

As Marcus follows your gesture, he notices that Luca’s arrived, remembering something about a standing Saturday date. 

“You sure, chef?” Marcus asks, looking to you for approval. 

“Positive,” you nod, reassuringly.

Marcus nods in return to confirm, before taking his apron off and making his way over to the dining room where Luca is exchanging a few words with Jesper. 

“Wassup, chef,” he greets his mentor. 

“You know, you can call me Luca,” Luca reminds him with a crooked smile. “At least when we’re off the clock.”

Marcus chuckles, “Uh… yeah alright. That’s gonna take some getting used to.” 

Luca chuckles in return, before Jesper shows them to his table, mentioning something about Americans being so afraid of fluidity. 

“She’s brilliant isn’t she?” Luca asks, in reference to you as his eyes catch yours from across the room. 

“Nah for real. Like… mad scientist vibes,” Marcus concurs with a smile. “She can throw down for sure.” He pauses as they sit down at Luca’s table. “So you come every Saturday night, huh?”

“When I can, yeah, which is… most Saturdays,” Luca replies honestly, before beginning to list why he’s kept up this routine. “But it’s nice. Keeps me inspired. I get to see my girl, walk her home at night which makes me feel better.” Luca leans back in his chair this time, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I never mind helping close down at the end of the night.”

Marcus hums in response before one of the waitstaff comes to their table, with a glass of wine in hand, on the house. They chat for a little longer before Marcus returns to the kitchen, his excitement for what you’re doing here filling him to the brim. 

As dinner service comes to an end, Marcus can’t help but notice the chemistry and how unique it is as you all work together in perfect harmony. There’s a warmth to it, something different, and he begins to understand why the name of the restaurant comes from the word, heart. 

Luca is quick to get up from his table, quickly finishing his glass of wine as he offers to help close down. The music volume goes from underscoring the buzz of a busy night of service, to the main attraction, as a motown throwbacks playlist begins to blare from the speakers. You all work quickly and efficiently, eager to close down, get home, and begin your weekends, but it’s when an old Otis Redding track that Luca decides to put a pause on the progress. 

“Dance with me, my love,” he says, offering his hand out to you as a huge gesture that earns a few looks and giggles from some of your staff. 

“Luca,” you begin to protest, looking around. 

“You can take three minutes,” he offers, exchanging a look with you this time. 

You nod, taking his hand as you agree with, “Okay.”

And as Luca wraps you up in his arms, engaging you in a slow dance to Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong my Love is,” you chuckle, relaxing into him.

“Oh, get a room, you two!” Jesper calls out after you, teasingly. 

“She pretends – always puts up a fight – as if they don’t do this every single week,” Mathilde adds, as an explanation to Marcus. 

“Every week?” Marcus asks, a little surprised by both you and Luca’s willingness to pause and revel in a moment with each other, instead of just pushing through. 

“Yeah. Romantics, they are,” Jesper chimes in. 

Marcus smiles to himself. It’s a reminder of slowness – something he hasn’t let himself experience in a long time – and for just a moment, he lets himself settle into the feeling. 

*

You don’t even mind that you woke up an hour before your alarm the moment you feel Luca’s arms wrapped around you, and his lips against your soft skin. The low rumble of his voice resonates across your shoulders, sending chills down your spine as you arch into his hands, his arms wrapped around you. 

“I know we’re only a few days in… of our little trial,” Luca begins, the bass of his voice reverberating through your shoulder blade.

“Our living together trial?” you clarify with your ask, letting out a gasp as he nibbles on your shoulder gently. 

“Yeah. Just wonderin’ where your mind’s at,” Luca murmurs, his eager hands beginning to explore underneath the oversized shirt you put on before bed last night. 

“Well… I really like this,” you reply, the sound that comes out of your mouth somewhere between a giggle and a moan. 

“Hmmmm?” Luca sounds, innocently. 

“This… Waking up to you thing.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mhm.”

Luca’s name escapes your lips as his fingers gently begin to play with your nipples, his erection hard against your back as you begin to grind your hips back against. 

“And the access to round the clock sex is really a bonus,” you sigh, blissfully. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks you again, a large tatted hand slipping between your legs. 

“Yeah… I’d even be… interested in leaning into that part… right now,” you hiss in reply to his touch. “Considering you’re distracting me with sex.”

“Hmmmmm. ‘S not just it, love. Have I told you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Marcus?” Luca asks, his mouth back on your neck. He presses your body against him, your back to his chest as he rocks his hips against yours. 

“Luca!” you protest, unable to focus on the conversation. 

“It’s your kindness. Your heart… I’m in awe of it,” he continues to praise you as the two of you begin to set a rhythm between your bodies. 

It’s all heat, and soft sighs of pleasure, and foreplay.

“Well, I know a little something about what he’s going through,” you answer breathlessly. You begin to impatiently push the hem of your shirt higher so that you can give Luca more access to your body. 

“That’s why I love you,” Luca murmurs into your skin, his hands all over you, his focus unbroken and your mind beginning to go blank. His hands are tearing your shirt over your head as he continues to praise you. “Your heart, the way you share it.”

“You helped me get there, baby,” you gasp, turning your head so that you can kiss your boyfriend. 

Instead of answering, Luca nods knowingly, before crashing his lips into yours. His mouth on yours feels like heaven, and you can’t believe that you ever fought your feelings for him. 

“Ah fuck it. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together,” you surrender to him, lost in the moment. 

“Yeah?” Luca pauses, pulling away, as if almost can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Yeah. I mean it, baby,” you nod, catching his gaze, certain in the way you answer. “I wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Me too, my love,” Luca grins, before pressing his lips to yours again. “Now will you please let me fuck you, darling?”

“Fuck yes.”

Luca spends the next hour showing you just how grateful he is for you, while you in return, spend the next hour showing him just how sure you are about this decision. 

And you are sure. If mornings like this are a constant for the rest of your life, you think you’ll die a happy woman. 

You’ve found a home in him, and he, you. He’s the person you want to come home to at the end of the day. He’s the man that puts a smile on your face every single time he gets on his soapbox about how Beyonce is the performer of your lifetimes, and he is unequivocally the best, most unexpected thing in your life. 

Luca Davies, in almost a year of knowing him, and eight months of getting to love him, has somehow become your favorite person. 

By the time you and Luca are both showered and decent-for-company, you’ve begun your mise en place for brunch, completely content with the fact that you’re running a little behind schedule (and in all fairness, the sex was worth it – it’s always worth it). The smell of bacon sizzling away on your carbon steel fry pan fills the entire apartment, and you’re glad that Luca opened a window earlier. It’s not exactly window weather yet, but the air ventilation is a must when it comes to smoked meats.

While you play catch up with your brunch plan, Luca’s busy welcoming Marcus in, pouring him a cup of coffee using the extensive ten-step pour over he’s been fixated on ever since he purchased it, while they chat here and there about what else he’s explored in Denmark. 

“Been too busy working, to be honest but… I don’t know. I might wander around today… see what kind of stuff I can get into,” Marcus answers frankly with a shrug. 

“Ah, mate. We just had a walk at the Frederiksberg Gardens. Definitely something I’d recommend checking out,” Luca suggests, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he mentions it. 

Luca continues moving through his list of recommendations, Marcus chiming in with places and things he did the last time he was here, excited to spend a few days exploring the city instead of just working. 

“Wanderin’ around. I dunno. There’s something about it. ‘S good for the spirit, you know?” Luca concludes. 

“Yeah,” Marcus nods in agreement, before turning his attention over to the French toast you’re working on. “Okay, I see you. What is that? Mascarpone?”

“Yeah, good eye. It’s just something new I’m working on: a mascarpone stuffed french toast. We’re actually talking about extending our hours… maybe doing weekend brunch,” you answer thoroughly, as you dip the stuffed pieces of bread into their egg batter, pre-cook. 

“For real? That’s sick,” Marcus compliments, watching you carefully. “I mean… shit. You could have a whole brunch spot.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your cutting board. 

“A Brunch spot,” Marcus repeats, simply, the excitement in his eyes at the new idea, evident. “Yeah, you know. Luca could do the morning pastries. You work your magic on the rest of the menu.”

“That’s a novel idea! What do you think, my love?” Luca asks, intrigue in his voice as he searches your face for a reaction. 

“I-,” you begin, looking from Luca to Marcus, then back to Luca again. “I… never thought about it like that.” You take a beat, eyeing Luca carefully. “We’ve never talked about going into business together.”

Marcus shrugs, before picking up his coffee mug, “Yo, it’s just a thought. I think you two would be unstoppable together.”

“Unstoppable, eh?” Luca asks, his eyes locked with yours. 

You only hum in response, raising a quirked eyebrow in Luca’s direction before adding:

“It’s certainly one hell of an idea, Marcus.”

Kokuore

Monday afternoon, you find yourself at your restaurant with Marcus Brooks, on a day off. 

“I might need a little extra help with something tomorrow. We’re closed tomorrow, but I want to get ahead on this special I’m working on. Could use the help of a pastry chef. What do you say?” you’d proposed to him, over one more espresso before he left. 

To Luca’s dismay, (“ you silly Americans just can’t enjoy a day of doing nothing,” he’d teased the two of you) Marcus had given you an unwavering yes, reassuring you that he was down to learn everything he possibly could from you, especially while he was here. 

And it’s true. You do need the help. But should he want someone to talk to – someone who gets it, even just a little bit – you want to offer him the space and the opportunity to do so.

“As a patissier, do you get tasked with pasta? At The Bear?” you ask Marcus, as you pleat a dumpling in hand with a speed that only comes with practice. 

“Nah,” Marcus sounds, his focus on the dumpling he’s pleating too. His concentration on getting the pleats right is reverent and unbroken, even as he answers your question. “Our head chef, Carmy, he uh… he comes from an Italian American family so when we’ve done a stuffed pasta… he usually takes the lead on that.” 

You nod in understanding, placing the dumpling you’ve just finished down on the full-sized sheet pan. The two of you sit across from each other, having pushed a few dining tables together as a makeshift workstation. 

“Think Luca’ll take over this kinda stuff when you guys open a restaurant together?” Marcus asks, lightheartedly pushing his agenda from yesterday. 

You laugh in response, your hands working quickly on yet another dumpling. 

“For someone with no skin in the game, you’re really insistent on this idea,” you tease him in return. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Marcus pushes right back, his tone still light. 

“I…” you sigh, trailing off as you pause your work for a moment. “You know, we just said we’d move in together. That and a restaurant? Feels fast.” 

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Like… a few hours before you came over for brunch,” you elaborate, earning a whistle from Marcus. The two of you exchange a look, and a laugh, as you pick up another dumpling wrapper that you and Marcus rolled out together earlier. 

“It’s a good idea though,” you add, stealing a glance his way so that he knows that you’re serious. 

“Well, when you two inevitably do open a restaurant… I want ten percent,” Marcus jokes, earning another laugh from you. 

“Deal,” you agree with him. 

You and Marcus work like this, exchanging a few words, the conversation light, underscored by a softer acoustic soundtrack from one of your Spotify radio stations.

“So how’d you learn to cook like this?” Marcus asks you curiously. 

“Uh…” you hesitate, treading carefully as you realize this conversation could open a can of worms. 

“I don’t know how much Luca’s told you about me… but I was married… before him,” you begin, cautiously. “And… well, I learned a lot of this… a lot of traditional Japanese cooking from my mother-in-law.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. These are her dumplings actually – her recipe. She passed away last Fall and… well, it was important to me to celebrate her – to celebrate her life – by creating a few dishes for her,” you continue, and it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “We’re bringing this one back as a special this month but um… yeah. I’m… still very much grieving and… it helps me remember her. Cooking her food helps me feel close to her, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marcus sighs, his heart heavy as he exhales. 

He waits a beat. 

And then another, having paused his work as he watches you pleat, head down, with expert hands. 

The silence between you and Marcus is full, heavy, connected by shared experience. You wait for Marcus to say something, and when he doesn’t, you decide to continue. 

“This restaurant… has so much of my heart in it: it’s got my love for Italian food from growing up in my best friend’s family’s restaurant, and it’s got my love for her – for Aiko – and everything she taught me,” you begin to explain. “And lately… it’s got a fresh perspective… inspired by the love I have with Luca, I think. Well, I know. Inspired by him… how this place brought us together.”

“The name itself is… totally made up, but means a lot to me. The Japanese word for heart is, kokoro, and the Italian word for heart is, cuore. Somehow an homage to my past… and was… Prophetic in so many ways too.” 

As Marcus listens, Luca’s previous question lingers in his head:

How’s your heart?

At the time he didn’t know how to answer, and after five days in Copenhagen – after five days of doing what he loves in a place that he loves – his heart is somehow so full, yet so broken all at once. He’s filled with deep sorrow and with the spark of creativity all at the same time, and he’s just not sure how to hold all of this feeling inside of him. 

Marcus waits a beat, opens his mouth, then lets the words fall out. 

“It’s evident. In your food,” is all he manages to say. “It’s got soul. It’s got heart. I-, it’s inspiring. That’s for sure.” 

“I made a dish. For Michael,” Marcus adds, his eyes on the dumpling he works on, but the guard on his heart beginning to fall away. “He was uh… well, he was the old owner of the restaurant, called The Beef back then. Carmy took over after he died. Felt right to honor him and his life, you know? When we reopened as The Bear.”

“Food is… it’s our art, you know?” you agree. “Sometimes it’s the only way I know how to express myself and… sometimes it’s just the thing that makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

A beat. 

“Maybe one day I can make one for my mom,” Marcus says, his voice stuck in his throat as he admits, “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I think… I think I’d like to eventually.” 

“Of course,” you reassure him gently. “You don’t have to be ready now. You don’t have to be ready ever. But when you are, your art will always be there.” 

“Thanks,” Marcus nods solemnly. 

You get up this time, realizing the sheet pan is full, and ready to be placed on the baker’s rack. As you return to the table with a new empty sheet pan, lined with parchment paper, Marcus finally asks you, his eyes soft, the heartbreak in them present. 

“How’d you get through? You know. Losing her? Your mother-in-law?” 

You return to your chair with a heavy sigh. 

“I’ll let you know when I do,” you answer, letting up a soft chuckle. “It helps to have good people and… from what Luca’s told me, you do. But… I had to let ‘em in, let ‘em help me. Let ‘em love me. And in all honesty, most days I’m still just… taking it day by day.” 

“Yeah, I-. I do. I got some really good people. Back home,” Marcus drags out slowly. 

“Then that’s all that matters. Your people and your heart. The rest… you just-,” you start. 

“Take day by day?” Marcus interjects, pausing to catch your eyes. 

You and Marcus exchange a knowing look, the recognition of each others’ pain is met with empathy. 

“Yeah. I think that's all we can do.”

By the end of your work session with Marcus, you’re ready to head home so that you can spend the rest of the day with Luca. 

“What’re you gonna do with the rest of your day?” you ask Marcus, curiously. 

With a sigh, and then a shrug, and a heart that feels just a little lighter, he answers with:

“Think I might wander around a bit. Someone once told me it’s good for the spirit.”

[jerzwriter]

Second Thoughts If it were cannon... AU

A million years ago, someone asked me if I'd write a series that mimicked canon but with Tobias Carrick as head of the Edenbrook Diagnostic Team. While I don't have the bandwidth to take on a series at this point, as I'm doing my Open Heart re-read, I will rewrite select scenes that I think could be interesting.

Part one was the first night at Donahue's when there was a serious connection building between Dr. Tobias Carick and new intern, Dr. Casey MacTavish. But now, they've had a chance to sleep on it, do things look different in the morning light? Lack of sleep, misunderstandings, and a dash of fear lead Casey to make a choice. Will it be one she comes to regret?

Book: Open Heart Book 1 / Chapter 3 Pairing: Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey) Featuring: Bryce Lahela, Jackie Varma, Landry Olsen Rating: Teen Words: 2,200 Series: If it were canon... AU Summary: See above

A/N: A quick thank you to @angelasscribbles for helping me come up with a new nickname lol I was at a loss. And thank you to @alj4890 - because of you I'm inspired to continue with this!

Series Masterlist Tobias x Casey Masterlist My Masterlist

The second day of her internship was not going as planned. Casey hardly managed to get any sleep in the miniature closet she called her room. At least the stairs above her came in handy today. She accidentally set her alarm for 5:00 PM instead of 5:00 AM, and if not for someone stomping down those steps, she would have overslept and likely decided to return to Philadelphia in shame. Now, with barely 30 minutes before her shift began, she threw on a ratty old Henly that paired perfectly with the wrinkled pair of jeans at the foot of her bed. Hair and make-up? Not today. A messy bun and brushed teeth would have to suffice. Somehow, she managed to arrive at Edenbrook with ten minutes to spare; when she saw a group of surgical interns playing basketball outside. Bryce Lahela was amongst them, and suddenly she wished she had spruced up just a little bit more.

“Up top! I’m open!” A shirtless Bryce barely got those words out before he flew by her, catching a pass and dribbling confidently toward the hoop. He dunked the ball, then screamed out in celebration. “Ha! Who’s the king now?”

“King?” Casey laughed, “You nearly killed me getting to that ball! I think the king should at least get a traffic infraction."

“Damn! I didn't realize. I would  have gladly given up two points for a chance to collide with you.”

Casey laughed as the other interns whooped and hollered when she saw the ball suddenly flying in her direction and caught it with both hands.

“Well, come on then, MacTavish!" Bryce goaded. "You gonna play, or you gonna send that back over?”

With a determined smirk, Casey slowly dribbled the ball, taunting him. “Come see if you can get it from me." Bryce sauntered toward her with what she’d come to know as his signature grin firmly in place.

“You’re making me look good,” he whispered upon approach. “I really am the king.”

“King of the surgical interns,” she laughed. “I guess that’s something, but....” without another word, she dribbled the ball around him, rushing toward the hoop with Bryce at her heels.

“Gonna make it tough on me, huh?” he laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist and spinning her around, but not before she shot the ball right into the hoop.

“That’s gotta be a foul, Ref,” she hollered, giggling in Bryes’s arms.

“It’s not a foul if you’re on my team,” Bryce defended. “And you are definitely on my team.”

Casey caught her breath as he put her on his feet, crossing her arms defiantly. “Says who?”

 “Says me!” He replied with a playful shrug. “But seriously, you want to join in?”

“Nah, my shift starts in five, and I’d really like to make myself look decent before it starts.”  

“You’re already looking good, MacTavish. Don’t go too crazy; I don’t want competition for hottest intern.”

“Ha!” she laughed, reaching up and flirtatiously pinching his cheeks. “I’ve already got that in the bag, Lahela!”

"Quite possibly," she beamed. "Hey, lunch later?"

"Sounds like a plan."

He smiled as he watched her run to the hospital entrance, pushing her way through a group of staff who had stopped to watch the game and assess the new talent.

“Excuse me. Pardon me,” she pushed through.

“You looked really good out there,” a pretty nurse winked.

“Thanks,” Casey smiled. Completely unaware that her handsome attending was quietly sipping his coffee nearby.

“She was impressive, wasn’t she, Dr. Carrick?” The nurse asked.

“Yep," he nodded. "She sure was.”

After a quick change, sprucing up her hair, and even applying a dab of lip gloss, Casey was the last of the interns to enter the atrium, but still on time. She was eager to meet her senior resident, and when Dr. Ines Delarosa called her name, Casey gently pumped her fist. “Yes!”

“Why are you so excited?” Jackie asked.

“I met her yesterday, she’s amazing! Bubblegum and rainbows incarnate!”

“Gross!” Jackie grimaced. “I’d rather take my chance with the grumpy ass I've got. I’ll catch you on the other side!”

Ines clapped her hands with joy to gather her charges. “All right, young ones! You’ve got your assignments! Go forth and shine bright!”

And Ines greeted her interns with the same enthusiasm when they returned a few hours later. “I hope you’re all excited! We’re about to begin rounds!”

“Woo-hoo!” Casey yelled as Ines gave a thumbs up with approval.

“That’s the attitude I want to see! You’ll be even more excited when I tell you we have a very special guest! Dr. Tobias Carrick will be joining us for rounds today!”

Casey turned to see Tobias leaning against a wall, looking up from his clipboard at the mention of his name. He curtly nodded at the interns, and Casey’s mouth went dry. Why did he have to be so beautiful? One glance made her knees go weak, and when his ice-blue eyes locked with hers, she could feel her cheeks begin to flush. She had been fueled by liquid courage when she approached him at Donahue's last night. What kind of intern flirts mercilessly with her attending on her very first day? But with his eyes still on her, she felt the heat rising. Yeah, she thought, that’s why I did. But when he turned away without acknowledging her, she began to question her judgment again.

“Let’s do this,” Dr. Carrick said gruffly.

“We’re doing rounds with Dr. Carrick? This is amazing! Also, I’m going to puke!” Landry whispered softly but loud enough to hear.

Tobias stopped short and looked over his shoulder, catching Landry chatting with Casey. “Less chatting and more moving!” He scowled. “Or do you think you’ve learned enough to keep your patients alive with just one day on the job?”

Casey’s brow furrowed. He didn’t seem at all like the man she met yesterday: the one who patiently guided her through an emergency procedure before her shift even began, one whose jovial attitude kept the interns energized throughout the day, or with whom she flirted shamelessly last night, perhaps that last one was the problem. Still, she shook her head and whispered to Landry.

“He was so cool yesterday. Why is he acting like such a jerk today?”

Dr. Carrick screeched to a halt again, causing several interns to trip over themselves to avoid toppling on top of him.

“Something to say, Dr. MacTavish?”

Her wide-eyed peers whispered amongst themselves. How did he already know her name? Dr. Carrick didn’t expect an answer, but Casey was giving him one all the same.  

“Yes, actually. I was wondering why you were so irritable today. I liked the Dr. Carrick I met yesterday much better.”

Tobias crossed his arms, biting his cheek to stifle a laugh, and Ines looked nervously between them. “Ha-ha!” She laughed. “Dr. MacTavish is so funny... haha! That will help make you a good doctor, but why don’t we get on with our rounds.”

“Wait,” Tobias held up a hand. “Dr. MacTavish, what role do you think attendings will play in your residency? Do you they – myself in particular -  are here to amuse and appease you?”

“Nope," she replied, not backing down. "Not at all.”

“Good. Because all of us will be putting in long hours, sometimes you won’t sleep for days on end. You’ll be dealing with life-or-death issues, and sometimes, the losses will nearly destroy you. No one is going to be rainbows and sunshine all the time. So I suggest you learn to deal with irritable colleagues and patients alike. It’s as much a part of this job as anything else.” He looked directly at Casey, and even as he was admonishing her, his gaze still made her melt. “Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” she grinned as Tobias forced himself to look away. Casey was completely unaware, she had the exact same effect on him. b

“Good. So why don’t we start rounds with your patient then?”

Landry wanted to question Casey as they walked away. He wasn’t sure if she was his hero, if she was out of her mind, or a combination of both, but he didn’t dare speak after that exchange.  

Casey and Landry went on to present. Or better said, Casey did. Landry was so starstruck by Dr. Carrick’s presence that he couldn’t bring himself to utter a word. Casey eyed him nervously, but when it was clear he was stalled, she jumped in to bail the duo out. Calmly and succinctly explaining that their patient had been in an accident and had internal bleeding as a result. She offered their prognosis and defended their treatment plan, even reassuring the patient when he expressed concerns about the length of his stay. Tobias was impressed with her, and halfway through her presentation, he couldn’t help but wonder why he was being so grumpy after all. It wasn’t like him at all.

“... so we have to get you healthy, Mike,” Casey said sweetly. “There are people counting on you.”

“Excellent, Dr. MacTavish,” Tobias approved, looking pointedly at Landry.

They proceeded to watch Elijah, Sienna, Jackie, Aurora, and other interns present.

“Congratulations!” Ines chirped. “You survived your first morning rounds! That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Landry droned.

“Landry,” Casey frowned. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a chance to...,” but Tobias began speaking and drowned her out.

“All right, doctors! Your patients are all alive... let’s make sure they’re still that way when I see you tomorrow. You’re dismissed.”

Casey turned and walked away with the other interns, but she didn’t get far when Tobias called her back.

“Not you, Newbie. You have one more patient to see.”

“I... I do?” she stammered.

“And do I?” Landry asked.

“Did I say you?” Tobias glared.

“Nope,” Landry gulped, turning to Casey. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

Casey walked toward Tobias; while some interns gossiped, not even attempting to hide.

“What’s with them? One asked “Nothing! She just made a good a good impression on him.” “Yeah,” Another sneered. “A good impression on him at the bar last night!” “Well, I guess that’s one way to get ahead.”

Tobias didn’t hear, but Casey did, and she couldn’t conceal a frown as she walked his way. Seeing her distressed, he hoped his attitude had nothing to do with it. He greeted her with a warm smile.

“Hey there, Newb. Why so glum? You doing OK?”  

“I’m good,” she sighed. “Very sleepy, but good. Hey, I want to apologize; I’m sorry if I was a jerk back there...”

“Nah,” he replied, and she realized his graveled voice had the same effect on her as his damn eyes. This would not be easy. “I was the one being the jerk. That’s why I wanted to talk to you...”

“Wait,” she crossed her arms with narrowed eyes. “Are you telling me there’s no patient? You just wanted to talk to me?”

“Two things can be true at once, grasshopper,” he smiled. “That’s good to remember in medicine. But I am sorry for being grouchy. It’s not like me; I guess we all have bad days.”

“And we're all entitled to them every so often,” she winked. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

She wasn’t your standard intern, and he couldn’t help but laugh when he caught a nurse looking at them intently. She scattered away when he met her stare, refusing to shift his gaze. Casey followed his eyes and understood at once. She lowered her eyes as he returned his attention to her, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Listen, about our talk last night..”

Casey felt herself becoming sick, and she didn't think skipping breakfast was the culprit. Her cheeks turned red, and her breath quickened. What would all the gossips say about the two of them standing this close? She was a kid from the wrong side of the tracks in Philly, worked her ass off to get here despite all those who said it was just a dream. She wasn’t going to have anyone saying her success was a result of flirting with her attending. But, God, she wanted to pursue him. She hadn't felt a connection like this in so long, and he had said they could find a workaround. Then she felt her blood go cold. Listen, about our talk last night...

Oh, God! She thought. I made a total ass out of myself, didn’t I? I’m an intern, for God’s sake. He’s Dr. Tobias Carrick; he likely has his choice of any person in this hospital. Any person in Boston! What the hell was I thinking? Convinced he was about to tell her he wasn’t interested. Her blatant flirtation was about to make her look like nothing short of a desperate fool, and Casey never wanted to be a desperate fool.

“It’s alright!” she interrupted, though right now, nothing felt alright. “We both had a few drinks, and it was late... it’s not surprising that we both said some things we didn’t mean.”

“Oh,” Tobias said, clearly taken aback. “I didn’t realize that...”

“Hey, Casey,” Bryce smiled, walking past with his team. “See you at lunch!”

“Oh,” Tobias repeated, images of the two of them kissing and their flirtatious game on the hospital court rushing to his mind. He recovered quickly this time. “It’s fine. I’m glad we’re on the same page then; this way, we don’t have to be awkward. We’re cool?”

“We’re cool,” she faked a smile, not understanding why his apparent dismissal brought the sting of bitter tears to the back of her eyes.

“Good! So, I do have a patient for you,” he said, nodding in the direction they were about to walk. “Her name is Kyra Santana, and her doctor thought a golf outing was more important than being here today. But, his loss is your and Ms. Santana’s gain...”

Casey took notes as he spoke. She never needed notes; she remembered almost everything, but she'd find any excuse to avoid looking into those eyes.

 “Hey, Dr. Carrick,” a beautiful nurse winked. Casey looked up momentarily but rushed her eyes back to the pad in her hand.

Thank God she quickly covered, she thought, her cheeks flushing with a mix of relief and embarrassment. He was Tobias Carrick. As if he’d have any real interest in her. It was bad enough that she had it this bad for her attending—the last thing she needed was for him to find out. That would be no way to start this phase of her life.

Tobias stood before the door, and, damn it, he smiled again. "You ready, Dr. MacTavish?"

"I like to think I am," she smiled as she walked through the door.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[tealin]

McMurdo Internet

Internet service is supplied to Antarctica via a geostationary satellite. This far south, the satellite is only a few degrees above the horizon, and unfortunately for McMurdo, it's behind Mt Erebus. So the signal is beamed to a receiver on Black Island, about 20 miles away to the southwest, and bounced over to the sheltered alcove at the end of the Hut Point Peninsula where McMurdo sits.

The Chalet, administrative hub, with Black Island in the distance

The Black Island telecommunications infrastructure was installed in the 1980s, long before the internet we know and love today. It was upgraded in 2010 to allow more data transfer, mainly realtime weather data to feed into global forecast models. For this reason, it's probably the only place I've ever been where upload speed is remarkably faster than download speed – 60Mbps for outbound traffic, but only 20Mbps for inbound. Most regular internet use is receiving, not sending, so that's an entire base running on a connection that's only marginally faster than the average American smartphone. As you can imagine, this is somewhat limiting.

The limits to one's internet access actually begin before one even reaches the Ice. At the orientation in Christchurch, one is directed to a URL from which one must download and install a security programme from the U.S. government. It may feel like a hippie commune full of nerds, but McMurdo is an installation of the American state, and as such its computer network is a target of whatever disgruntled conspiracy theorist decides to hack The Man on any given day. Computers that are allowed onto this network (such as the one on which I am typing right now) have to have an approved firewall and antivirus service installed, then this extra programme on top of them. I am not sure what it does. For all I know the CIA is spying on me even now. (Hi, guys!) But you need to install it to get on the McMurdo Internet, such as it is, so I did.

To be honest, I was rather looking forward to a month cut off entirely from the hyperconnected world, so I was a tiny bit disappointed that quite a lot of day-to-day communication is done by email, and I would need to be on my computer a fair bit to get it. Had I known just how important email would be, I'd have installed an email client that actually downloads one's messages instead of just fetching them; as it was, the cycle of loading an email and sending the reply, even in Gmail's "HTML for slow connections" mode, took about five minutes, not counting the time it took to write. Tending one's email was a serious time commitment; sometimes I felt like I was spending more time on the computer in Antarctica than I did at home.

Crary scientists waiting, and waiting, and waiting

In a way, though, I was lucky, because I was technically a scientist and therefore had access to the one building on base with WiFi, the Crary Lab. And don't think you can just waltz into Crary with your laptop and poach the WiFi – in order to access it at all, you have to get set up by Crary IT with your own personal WiFi login. If you do not have Crary access, your portal to the Internet is one of a handful of ethernet cables in each of the dorm common rooms, or some public terminals in the main building. You can hop on, download your emails, maybe check the news or Google something you needed to look up, and then leave it for someone else. When most online time sinks are either blocked or too heavy to load, it’s amazing how little internet time you actually turn out to need.

Things that we have come to take for granted in The World are not a part of McMurdo life. Social media is pretty much out – the main platforms are bandwidth hogs even before you try to load a video or an animated GIF. There is no sharing of YouTube links, and no Netflix and chill. Someone was once sent home mid-season for trying to download a movie. Video calls with family and friends? Forget it. People do occasionally do video calls from Antarctica, often to media outlets or schools, but these have to be booked in advance so as to have the requisite bandwidth reserved. Jumping on FaceTime does not happen – not least because handheld devices have to be in airplane mode at all times for security reasons. Your phone might be secure enough for your internet banking, but not for US government internet!

It is, unavoidably, still a digital environment, it just gets by largely without internet access. Nearly everyone has an external hard drive, mostly for media that they've brought down to fill their off hours. If you want to share files you just swap hard drives, or hand over a memory stick. When the Antarctic Heritage Trust wanted some book material from me, I dropped it onto an SD card and ran it over to Scott Base on foot – a droll juxtaposition of high- and low-tech, not to mention a good excuse for a hike over The Gap on a beautiful day. It took half an hour, but was still faster than emailing it.

There is also a McMurdo Intranet, which includes a server for file sharing. Emailing someone your photos will take ages, but popping them into a folder on the I: drive and sending them a note to say you've done so (or, better yet, phoning them, or poking your head into their office) is much more efficient. To conserve space, this informal server partition is wiped every week, so you have to be quick about it, but it's an effective workaround, and also a good way to get relatively heavy resources to a large number of people in one go.

The telecommunications centre on Black Island is mostly automated, but like anything – perhaps more than some things, given the conditions – it needs to be maintained. There is a small hut out there for an equally small team of electricians and IT engineers; Black Island duty attracts the sort of person who might have been a lighthouse keeper back in the day.

Towards the end of my time on the Ice there was a spell where they needed to shut off the connection overnight, to do some necessary work. Given that most people's workdays extended at least to the shutoff time at 5:30 p.m., this meant essentially no internet for a large portion of the population, and some amusing flyers were posted up to notify everyone of the impending hardship.

Someday, faster, more accessible internet will come to Antarctica.  It's more or less unavoidable, as communications technology improves, and everyone's work – especially the scientists' – depends more and more on having a broadband connection at all times.  It will make a lot of things more convenient, and will make the long separation from friends and family much easier.  But I'm pretty sure that many more people will mourn the upgrade than celebrate it.  One can, theoretically, curtail one's internet use whenever one likes, but even before the pandemic it was almost impossible to live this way with the demands of modern life: I know from personal experience that opting out of Facebook alone can have a real detrimental effect on relationships, even with people one sees in the flesh fairly regularly, simply because everyone assumes that is how everyone else communicates.  Being in a community where no one has access to assumed channels, and is more or less cut off from the rest of the world in a pocket universe of its own, levels the playing field and brings a certain unity.  The planned (and, unarguably, necessary) updating of the physical infrastructure of McMurdo will wipe out a lot of the improvised, make-do-and-mend character of the place; how much would free and easy access to the online world change it in a less tangible way?

I'm sure the genuine Antarctic old-timers would shake their heads at the phone and email connections we have now, and say that no, this has already ruined Antarctica.  It's not Antarctica unless your only link to the outside world is a dodgy radio.  It's not Antarctica unless you only get mail once a year when the relief ship arrives.  Doubtless the shiny new McMurdo will be seen as 'the good old days' by someone, someday, too.  Change may happen slower there than elsewhere, but just like the rust on the tins at Cape Evans, it comes eventually, regardless. 

For my own part, I'm glad I got to see 'old' McMurdo, such as it was, all plywood and cheap '90s prefab.  The update will be much more efficient, and tidy, but yet another generation removed from the raw experience of the old explorers.  My generation is probably the last to remember clearly what life was like before ubiquitous broadband; to some extent, Antarctica is a sort of time capsule of that world, just as the huts are a time capsule of Edwardian frontier life.  I hope they'll find a way to hang on to the positive aspects of that. 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to waste an hour mindlessly refreshing Twitter ...

If you'd like to learn more about the Black Island facility, there's a lot of good information (and some photos!) here: https://www.southpolestation.com/trivia/90s/blackisland.html

And this Antarctic Sunarticle goes into greater depth on the 2010 upgrade: https://antarcticsun.usap.gov/features/2114/

[literaticat]

Since I’m hearing that most author marketing doesn’t significantly move the needle on book sales - is it ok then for an author to not market their book?

I don’t mean not talk about it; I mean skipping out on doing book tours, launches, interviews, presentations, cringe videos with one’s pet to try to game the algo…

Authors "not significantly moving the needle on book sales" all on their own is probably true in most cases. However, authors WITH PUBLISHER SUPPORT can for sure move the needle.

I would suggest that you do everything the publisher wants you to do in terms of marketing, etc. That IS them trying to move the needle, and you need to help as much as you can.

Beyond that, on your own, it's nice for you to do what is in your power to boost your own work without sinking a ton of money or all your energy into it. Your being game and positive may well inspire the publisher to give you more support, and look, there goes that needle again.

Appearances: If your publisher is sending you to a conference, book festival, on a book tour or similar (ie, paying for the travel, setting it up, etc) - DO IT! This is marketing that not every book automatically gets, your publisher WANTS you to do this, they are PAYING for you to do this, yes, you should absolutely do this.

If you're talking about setting up your OWN book tour, or paying to travel out of state to some conference on your OWN dime -- well, if you really want to do that and can afford to do that, sure, but I wouldn't go out of my way to pay for that kind of thing.

School Visits - if it is something where the publisher is setting it up and they are considering it part of a tour or a marketing opportunity - DO IT! IF you want to do your own as a money-making venture (where you charge the schools) -- by all means! It's a good source of income for a lot of kid's authors! But if that's just not something you enjoy or have the bandwidth for, you can skip it.

Interviews and whatnot -- again, if it is something that the publisher is setting up, with a well-regarded magazine, review outlet, blogger with big reach, online influencer, fancy TV show or big podcast or something like that where it's not easy to get that kind of coverage -- DO IT! Do you need to hustle all over NYC to try and set up your own Vanity Fair article or Good Morning America appearance or whatever? Absolutely not.

Social Media -- THIS IS IN YOUR POWER, and is free. Yes, please. You don't have to GO OFF or anything - but some social media presence, ONE platform at least, would be helpful. I have written extensively about how to start social media stuff if you don't feel adept at it, look at the FAQ. No, you don't have to make "cringe videos with your pet" -- but yeah, you should do *something* if at all possible, if only so that librarians and whatnot can write to you and you can post starred reviews of your books or whatever.

Website -- This is in your power, and costs little, and is important. YES PLEASE. Keep it updated. Have a press kit on there. PLEASE.

Other things you can and should absolutely do: Have a local launch party to celebrate with your friends and family -- introduce yourself to local booksellers and offer to sign stock -- direct people to that bookstore to buy autographed books via your social media, website and/or newsletter. Be nice to people. ETC.

Anything beyond that is gravy -- fine if you want gravy, but if you don't like it, and it costs $$ -- it is not necessary.

[reds-writings]

snippet of the current fic that is kicking my ass rn pls send help:

Meanwhile, after hanging up on you Rust couldn’t help but bring a heavy hand to his tired eyes as he exhaled through his nose. Marty eyed him warily as he sat across from him in the depressing confines of the Texan's apartment. 

“So you lied to her.” 

Rust didn’t bother meeting the blonde’s disappointed look. 

“You don’t think that might blow up in your face? She’s sharper than you may realize…ain’t some fragile thing who can’t handle her shit-”

“I don’t need her on this, Marty.” Rust tried remaining passive at the mention of you. 

Things were becoming too complicated. A harsh consequence of his failure to keep his baneful desires in check. Giving in to such false hopes had him feeling more than weak and cheap the longer he had time to sit and think on it. To entertain such a notion with you was cruel to an extent he found himself severely uncomfortable with. It wouldn’t work. Not in this lifetime or perhaps any other that would exist in the infinite hell that was the universe. That's just how it was. If he backed away now perhaps he could still manage whatever little semblance of control he had left. 

“Don’t need her on this or don’t want her on this? There’s a mighty big difference, buddy.” Marty didn’t know about the recent developments between you two but it was clear he was becoming aware that something was afoot. The pair stared at each other long and hard.

“This is a two-man job. No need for added weight.” Rust broke first, taking a long drag at the cigarette pinched between his nimble fingers.

“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself. This is her case too and I don’t appreciate you havin’ me be part of some lie-”

“I can remind you that you haven’t had much of a problem with lyin’ as of late-” 

“Oi, don’t get all judgy with me just cause you’re scared of somethin’ you ain’t got the emotional bandwidth to fuckin’ handle on your own. Y/n’s a smart girl. Strong. It would be unwise of you to underestimate her abilities because of some holdup you’ve maybe got-”

“Marty.” Was Rust’s final warning. The steeliness of it had the blonde’s hands going up in mock surrender. If Rust didn’t want to unpack his growingly obvious partialness towards you then he wouldn’t bother. It’s not like he was much in the mood to help out the pissy curmudgeon he called a partner with his advances towards you. Marty saw you something similar to that of a little sister. He wasn’t sold on the idea of romance, if Rust were even capable of the notion, happening between you both. Your heart was too big for the likes of Rust in his opinion and he didn’t want to see you put in the monumental effort of caring for the hopeless loner only to be sorely disappointed in return. 

i hope to have this out by the end of this week or the beginning of next! i've found myself in a bit of a writing rut but we push forward nonetheless. my requests/inbox are open so don't be afraid to message me!

[succulentsiren]

How to Structure Your Life Like a BOSS: SucculentSiren X @femmefatalevibe

FemmeFataleVibe

• Set Priorities

• Write Everything Down

• Devise A Plan

• Prioritize Important Tasks Like Non-Refundable Appointments

• Consider Batching Similar Tasks For Better Time Management & Productivity

• Become Attuned To Your Natural Energy Patterns

• Develop Self-Awareness Around Your Self-Sabotaging Behaviors

• Drop Inconsequential Tasks and Conversations

• Find Mentors (Online or IRL) Who You Allow Into Your Inner Circle 

Ask Yourself: * What are the main 3 action items you could complete this week that would best serve your goals?

* Approximately what percentage of your to-do list each week aligns with your priorities?

* What are some habits you could add or eliminate that would help you feel more in control of your life?

✦•······················•

SucculentSiren

• Time Management - Become aware of how you are managing your time. Set timers to remind you of your daily goals. Things flows easier when you set time aside everyday rather than trying to do everything at once or procrastinating. It can literally be just 10 minutes a day. This builds consistency and habit. You’ll also become less stressful in knowing that you don't have to complete everything all at once.

• Self Awareness - Identify what you want, how you want your life to look, what things in your life you would like to change, who you want to be seen as, etc. Develop self belief where you believe you're capable of achieving and having all your desires. Take calculated action towards your goals. You don’t have to start big. Start small instead and learn from there. Stay persistent and always remember your end goal. ‘Rome wasn't built in a day.’

• Mentors - Learn from people who inspire you. Everybody influences you, so follow those who motivate you to be and feel better about yourself.

Q&A

Q: Many people find it challenging to put themselves first and make something of themselves. How would you recommend prioritizing yourself?

SS: If someone else can have it why can’t you? Build up your self esteem. Write down what it is that you desire most for your life and act in accordance to those beliefs. Nothing is too big or small for you to achieve.

FFV: Give yourself at least 30 minutes after waking up to focus on yourself. Do your skincare, have your coffee, listen to music, journal, read. Allow yourself to ease into your day.

Have your non-negotiables for the day. Get them done when you say you will and don’t push yourself to do more if you’re exhausted or get too overwhelmed. Communicate your bandwidth to others so you set realistic expectations involved for any project, event, get-together, or errand.

Ensure you give yourself enough time to eat 2-3 healthy meals daily, drink enough water, move for at least 20-30 minutes a day, and have a hygiene routine (shower skincare, home cleaning, etc.) that you perform daily/weekly depending on the task.

Give yourself at least an hour before bed to wind down – with a book, TV show, drinking tea, journaling, relaxing music, etc.

Incorporate daily/weekly rituals you enjoy into your schedule. Make these self-love practices as much of a priority as taking a shower or a work task. These activities could be doing a face mask, getting your nails down, have a great cup of coffee or tea, watching an episode of a TV show, a long walk around your neighborhood, calling someone you love, etc.

✦•······················•

Q: What are some tips to maintain balance between work, play and rest?

FFV: Give yourself “business hours” to do your work/important tasks – even if you don’t have an employer setting your schedule. This tip is essential if you’re self-employed, a business owner, or a student. I share my business hours in all of my contracts so my clients know when I’ll be available.

Timeblock everything: Your work tasks, cleaning schedule, errands/appointments and even your resting/self-care hours. This process allows you to stop decision fatigue from taking over your life. If you say you’re cleaning from 2 -3 pm tomorrow, get it done so you have from 3 pm onward to chill, take a walk, and watch TV later that weekend afternoon.

Decision on your must-do self-care rituals for the day/week and keep your promise to do them for yourself.

Become attuned to your social battery. Know how many hangouts per week or nights out helps you thrive (say 1-3 times per week if you’re more introverted or busy with work, school, family, etc.). Make an effort to plan these events on your social calendar ahead of time or know yourself well enough to remain open to last-minute plans on certain days/times of the week (if you’re prone to cancelling or flaking).

[nathanbatemanfucker]

summary: but it's coming down, no sound, its all around.

pairing: fem!reader x santi garcia

contents: song based fic, angst, jealousy, perceived unrequited love, best friends to lovers, love confessions, santi being a desperate simp, kissing

wc: 2k

an: yes this is a song inspired fic again bc it’s just who i am ok. listen i want them to fuck eventually but who knows if i have the bandwidth to write santi railing her into oblivion. if people really want it, let me know.

oscar characters masterlist | requests are open

“What’re you doing out here? It's cold, cariño,” He calls out to you, a healthy distance away.

He can tell that you’re brooding by the tension in your shoulders, the way you’re rocking back and forth as you stare straight ahead. He knows you better than he knows himself— possibly better than you know yourself— though he’s not sure why you’re upset in this instance. Not yet anyway.

He’s right– it is cold. Despite the extremely warm days in Miami, the nights can grow cold, especially standing on the sandy plains of a beach such as this one. You don’t bother turning around to look at Santi, continuing to stare out into the darkness of the ocean. It's stupid that you’re out here, that you feel a way about how tonight’s gone. Santi isn’t yours and the depth of your friendship, or your romantic feelings for him doesn’t change that.

There’s always a risk with bringing Santi anywhere. It’s not a deadly risk, but sometimes he looks so absorbed in someone else that it feels like your heart might give out. He’s good at it, at making someone feel like they’re the center of attention or all that matters to him.

He’s a natural flirt, so charismatic that most people don’t believe he’s been in the army or that his day job is in operations and the execution of them. People— including all of your single cousins, who have been all over him since the moment the wedding reception began. You couldn’t blame them, even if you weren’t in love with him, there’s no denying that he’s one of the most attractive men you've ever seen.

Tonight everyone is treated to a rare occasion. Santi’s in a suit; it’s black and fits him perfectly. The top two buttons of his crisp, white button-up are undone giving the most sinful view of his strong neck. His unruly curls are styled neatly for once and with the short stubble dusting his chin it's practically game over. He’s Santi, he rarely turns down showing a woman a good time– because that’s just what women deserve according to his creed– and being with your family means he’s pulled out all the stops, always trying to make a good impression.

You’ve been friends with Santi since college— you signed up to be pen pals with someone in the service. When you saw the name Santiago Garcia, you pictured some sauve man who wouldn’t give you the time of day if he’d seen you walking on the street. It made you nervous, and you didn’t send him a letter— except in a twist you never saw coming, he wrote you first.

You were correct, he was sauve— is sauve, but so incredibly charming. So understanding and playful in the short length of a single sentence. So devastatingly handsome. There was no resisting him. Your friendship with Santi unraveled parts of you that you were unaware of. The deep yearning, the lightness in your chest, the craving for adventure. With Santi by your side, whether in person or words on a page, opened a world for you. One you’re completely sure wouldn’t exist without him.

The first time you’d met six months after exchanging your first letters, you had to swallow the notion you’d been denying for months. You love him. Staring into his mischievous brown eyes, witnessing his bright smile for true and not just in the photo he’d sent you in one of his letters only solidified that. But, he’s Santi. You and Santiago… make sense as friends. And so you fake it. You fake not loving him until it’s almost believable.

“Cariño?” He calls again, breaking through the hazy thoughts of your mind.

You glance back at him for just a moment, and the smile that you flash him doesn’t touch your eyes, “Just needed some fresh air.”

“You’re gonna get a cold in this dress,” He murmurs, slipping out of his jacket as he closes the gap between you.

When he starts to drape the jacket over your shoulders, you turn to him, taking a step back, “I’ll be fine.”

The bite in your voice, the way you don’t look at him as you say it makes him realize that he’s done whatever’s put you in this state. He ignores you, wrapping you in the jacket before pulling you a little closer, dipping on his knees so that he can try to catch your gaze.

His eyes are pleading, “What’d I do? Just tell me, I’ll make it better, you know I will.”

“There’s nothing to say,” You insist stubbornly, looking down at where your feet are buried in the sand. You wiggle them, trying to do anything to distract you from this conversation you and Santi are on the cusp of. Maybe he’ll give up.

He sighs, using a finger to raise your chin so you must look at him. And when you try to pull away, his thumb grips you, holding you in place, “There’s plenty to say if you’re upset, so let’s stop playing this game, yeah?”

You fix him with an empty stare that chills him to the bone. “Fine, there’s nothing I feel like saying. Happy?”

He glares at you, tightening his grip on your chin, “Fuck, no, you know I’m not. Words. Speak. Tell me, right now, cariño.”

Getting both of your hands on his chest, you push him back gently, forcing him to let go of you. Angrily, you murmur, “Would you stop with the cariño and the puppy dog eyes, for fucks sake. Go back inside, I’m sure the girls miss you.”

Santi takes a step toward you, and he’s close enough that you instinctively take a step back— he prevents it though, grabbing you by the lapel of his jacket so you’re cemented in place. Santi’s eyes widen to an almost comical size as he realizes what’s happening.

Are you…jealous? Jealous that others would look at him, that he might be theirs. Do you want him?

“Is that what this is about?” His question is vague so as not to make a fool of himself.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m here for you.”

“I asked you to come with me, of course, you’re here for me. Not standing around while you whisk women out on the dance floor would be nice,” You grumble, fiddling with the lapel of his jacket so that you won’t have to meet his gaze.

“No, I’m here for you,” His other hand raises, cupping your freezing cold cheek.

“Don’t, please, I can’t. It’s not the same for us Santi. It’s never been the same for us,” You whisper desperately.

“You think I give a fuck about anybody in there but you? Do you? Hmm?”

You open your mouth to answer, though you’re not sure what you would say. He continues to speak, not even giving you a chance.

“You think I wore this ridiculous fucking suit to impress your cousins?”

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” You repeat, swallowing to try to rid your throat of its sudden thickness.

“You’re jealous?” He tests, too in disbelief to say it as a statement though there’s no other explanation for this.

Your mouth twitches, brow furrowing as you step back, “I am not.”

“I know when you’re lying, your mouth, it does this thing,” He says, eyes wandering your face with wonder.

Yes, you’re jealous. It thrills him— his heart pumping so loudly it drowns out the sounds of the tide.

“You’re jealous, and there’s no reason for you to be because I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, cariño. Understand?”

“What?” You whisper, taking yet another step back. You look like a wild animal, like prey looking predator in the eye, desperate for an escape route.

“I’m here for you— I need you. There’s no one else,” He murmurs, taking a slow step toward you.

“Is…is this real?” You stutter out, the fear in your voice palpable to both of you.

Slowly as not to scare you away, he takes both of your hands, pressing one to his chest, the other to his stubble-covered cheek as he gazes down at you, “Does this feel real? Do I?”

You blink rapidly at the feel of his stubble beneath your palm. It’s a new sensation, it almost tickles and his skin is warm despite the chill of the night.

“You’ve never felt real to me,” You admit quietly. “You came into my life like a shooting star, I’ve just been…”

“Yeah? What’ve you been doing?” He encourages softly.

“I’ve just been waiting for you to disappear like all shooting stars do.”

“I could never leave you, baby, don’t you get it? From the first letter…I knew. I knew,” He repeats firmly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You grumble, your hand twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

A humorless laugh leaves his throat, “You’re the most unreal thing I’ve ever had. I thought— I was afraid you would slip through my fingers. That I’d wake up and you wouldn’t be there, that this is all a dream. I don’t get things like this. I don’t deserve you. I got lucky. I’ve been waiting for you to disappear, can you believe that, cariño?”

“That could never be true. Walking away isn’t an option for me, trust me, I’ve tried to free myself from the torment that is having feelings for you.”

“Sweetheart—“

You cut him off, seeing the disbelief in his eyes, “It’s not, Santiago. It’s not, there is nothing more that I could ever want more than you. I want you so much that I can’t breathe.”

“Then I’m yours. All of me, for you.”

“This is unbelievable.”

“Believe it,” He implores, cupping both of your cheeks and pulling you closer. Your eyes flutter shut in anticipation but then he stops, his mouth brushing against your cheeks as he begs for you, Let me kiss you. Please, I’ve wanted it for so fucking long, querida, let me?”

“Yes,” You breathe, trembling against him. He smells divine, like fresh linen, a soft summer breeze, and something uniquely Santi.

You allow yourself to get lost in it, to get lost in him for the first time because it’s safe. He’s right here, getting lost with you.

He presses his mouth to yours and groans, gripping your face so tightly that his hands ache. He forces himself to take a step back and let you go, chest heaving as his eyes roam your face for any evidence of discomfort.

“W-why’d you stop?” You ask the whine evident in your voice despite its breathy tone.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, kiss me again, Santi. Right now,” You demand as you bury a hand in the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.

When Santi leans in once more to kiss you, you meet him eagerly, capturing his lips in a bold move that only he could elicit from you. He falters for a moment, still in shock that this is happening before he matches your passion, one arm curling around your waist while his other hand cups the back of your head so that he can dip you.

You smile into the kiss, gripping the fabric of his shirt a little tighter on instinct as he tips you back. It's impossible to not know that Santi’s a charmer and flirt even upon first meeting him, but this is different. You can feel the way he forces himself to be delicate with you despite his hunger. All of this is as painstakingly romantic as it is cheesy, something you’d never expected despite knowing him so well.

He breaks the kiss when he feels you clutching him, nuzzling his nose against yours as he whispers, “I won’t drop you.”

There’s no doubt in your mind that his words are true. Through everything, Santi has only ever done his best to take care of you, he’s shown up for you as much as you would let him. Now that you both have been honest with each other his devotion to you will only grow sweeter and deeper.

You grin up at him, closing the small space between you to press the tenderest kiss to his mouth, “I know.”

santi taglist: @honeybrowne, @jitterbugs927, @theconsultingdoctor10, @tanzthompson, @siezethenights, @clairevoyanceee, @moonmalice, @tiffanypooh, @dearvirtualdiary-blog1, @marc-spectorr, @xbellaxcarolinax, @toracainz, @roseqzpd, @rosecentaur1916, @mccn-bcys, @hotchs-bitch, @missdictatorme

[amethystfairy1]

Hellllllooooooo. Am the only person here who still waits for the happy ending of its gonna get me by the end of the night? Have you all forgot? Moved on?? Or did i miss something??????? Are you not gonna finish it?????????????????? TELL MEEEEEEEEE

I’ve actually mentioned this before, but something rather silly happened with that fic, by which I mean when I was writing the happy ending it spiraled into its own entire AU 😅 sooooooo I don’t really wanna post the happy ending chapter two because then I’d end up with THREE AUs running and I think that might be a bit much.

As of right now, I have plans for two new AUs other than TTSBC and TT. One of which spawned from the happy ending of ‘Its gonna get me by the end of the night’ the other of which is just another thought I had that’s gone out of control and is now like 40k in my private docs 😆

Like I said tho, I’m very happy with my current set up with two AUs. TTSBC and TT are such a great duo because they give me the opportunity to write literally everything, so no matter what I’m in the mood to write, that dynamic exists somewhere within my AUs.

TTSBC has a loooooooooooooong way to go. TT not quite as much so, but certainly still a good bit.

TL/DR: I have too many AUs already and putting out the chapter two for ‘it’s gonna get me’ will for sure trigger me making a third one and I don’t think I have the bandwidth for that right now 😅

[vibratingskull]

I am so wildly soft for the way you write Thrawn and especially your fics that revolve around his growing family! I particularly loved your most recent piece about his pregnant wife while stranded on the planet with the Chimaera crew. If you’re interested and have the bandwidth, I would love to make a request because I am so in love with this little AU that you’ve created and I’d love your thoughts on this. How would Thrawn react when his wife goes in to labor and they have to give birth on the remote planet? He specifically mentioned not having a lot of access to proper equipment, so I’m so curious if you think he’d be more cool, calm, and collected, or if you think he might panic and worry a bit more at seeing his beloved in so much pain? Especially if it’s a surprise they’re twins 🙈 Thank you so much for sharing all of your wonderful writing with the rest of us Thrawn Lovers 💙

I bow down to you, my dear. It is my pleasure to share my silly stories with you all! Big kiss on your cheek ❤️

Tag: Delivery, death of a character

You deeply breathe through your nose, holding your back.

It is time.

The Force is calling for you, murmuring to you time has come.

You are not stressed in the slightest, you’ve already given birth and the Force is here to support you, everything is gonna be fine.

You know it deep down your bones.

“Sweetheart,” You catch your daughter’s attention, “Could you go find your father for me, please?”

“Why?” She asks, barely raising her head from the wooden figurines Enoch so nicely carved for her.

“Your siblings are coming.” You rise from your seat and sigh.

She looks up at you in shock before jumping on her feet and sprinting through the corridors of  the Chimaera.

“Daaaaaaaaad!” You hear her screams from the depths of her lungs.

You can’t help but chuckle, she’s impossible sometimes.

You calmly walk through the corridors towards the med bay, until you cross path with Enoch focused on his datapad.

“Good day milady.”

“Oh, it will be good, Captain.”

“Why?” He finally raises his helmeted head from the screen.

“My waters just broke.” You chuckle

He remains still for a second, taking in the info before immediately putting down his datapad and offering you his arms as support.

“Are you alright?” He asks worriedly.

“I am very well, thank you.” You smile, amused by his distress.

He escorts you to the med bay and orders the droids around. You peacefully lay down the bed, taking deep breaths in as the droids start plugging their monitors and prepare the transfusions. You see Enoch agitating himself with his comlink, getting annoyed by anyone he has on the other side.

“I don’t care if you have orders, find him and tell him his wife is giving birth! Now!” He shouts.

You place your feet in the stirrups and wait for the morphine to kick in.

Everything around you is messy with agitation, but you feel very relaxed and calm. Your babies give you a hard kick in the stomach, making you groan in pain.

“Is everything alright?” Enoch asks.

You can’t imagine what Thrawn would do to him if something went wrong under his care, you understand his stress.

“It’s okay, Enoch. Just a kick.”

He seems completely out of his element right now, you can imagine his distressed face under his helmet right now, making you chuckle. He’s more used to death than birth, the poor man.

“Mom!” Your daughter bursts through the door, out of breath.

“Sweetheart, did you find your father?” You gently ask.

“I am here, Cha’cah.” Thrawn appears behind her. “Is everything alright, my love?” He immediately comes to your side, seizing your hand in his.

“I am well, do not worry.” You smile at him “You want to feel them?” You place his hand on your tummy to feel the kicks.

His shoulders seem to relax instantly.

“They are so energetic.” He sighs.

“Yes. Soon you will meet them.” 

He looks at you with love and adoration in his eyes while your daughter just looks worried.

“You are shining, cha’cah.”

“It’s because I am happy. Our family is growing, love. I have a present for you.”

“You giving birth is enough of a present for me.” He purrs.

“You’ll see.” You wink.

He leans in to kiss your forehead and you feel a hard contraction in your core.

“Oof…”

“Enoch, take Thiroy outside.” Thrawn orders.

Enoch takes your daughter's hand and escorts her outside the med bay.

The droids place themself around you, monitoring your vitals while Thrawn leans to circle your shoulders with his arm.

“Alright, cha’cah. You got this.” He supports you.

“Of course I got this, I am a Jedi.” You clap back.

You hear again the Force gently calling for you.

You got this!

“Heartbeat rising.” Note one of the droids. “You are dilated, we can proceed.”

You take the iron bars in your hand, ready for the pain to explode any minute now. The contractions get closer and closer, more and more painful each time but you are ready.

Pain suddenly explodes in your stomach, you feel a mass starting to go down, slowly pushing your entrails out of the way. You cry in pain but push with all your might.

“Here we go!” Says one of the droids.

You’re a jedi. You’re a warrior. You’ve already done this, you can do it again!

You grip the iron bars in your fists as you push. As you stop to take your breath back one of the droids takes out a towel under your legs soaked with blood to dispose of it.

“Heartbeat rising.” The second one reiterates.

You grit your teeth and push hard. Even with the morphine this is so painful.  You can’t receive a normal dosage to preserve the Chimaera’s stock of the rare drug. Your lighter dosage can’t keep the pain at bay, just slowly numb your nerves. An epidural is unfortunately impossible in your situation, you’ll have to do without.

Thrawn presses a fresh towel on your forehead to mop the sweat, you weakly smile at him before the contraction starts again. The droid takes out another towel soaked with blood while the other seems to agitate himself.

“There is the head!” it chants.

Thrawn kisses your cheek and heads towards your feet to welcome your baby. His face instantly hardens and he looks concerned.

“Is that normal?” He asks.

“What? Is the baby okay?” You ask between pushes.

“The baby is fine, Cha’cah. Keep pushing, you are doing great, love.” He comforts you.

But you can clearly see his worried expression.

It's harder than you remember.

“We don’t have the proper equipment to assure a safe delivery, my Lord.” The droid answers back. “We will do everything we can.”

You’re in so much pain.

Thrawn gives it a black look before turning to you with hopes in his eyes.

“Their head is out, love. Keep pushing, you are almost there.” 

You push with a powerful scream, determined to deliver a healthy baby.

You let yourself fall on the pillow as you hear a baby scream, you look between your legs to see Thrawn holding a blue baby in his hand, looking at them with so much love. The droid gives him a blade to cut the cord and he comes to you to show your little miracle.

“Hey…” You say to your baby, exhausted beyond measure.

“It is a boy.” Thrawn purrs, presenting you with your son.

“Oh Maker…” You just mumble, already feeling love puffing up your heart, “My baby boy…”

But your relief is short lived as the second one is ready to come up, tearing you apart.

“We have a second one.” The droid places itself immediately ready to receive them in its mechanical arms.

“A second…” Thrawns starts before turning to you with sparkling eyes.

“Surprise!” You weakly exclaim through the pain.

“Oh Maker, Cha’cah. Two children?”

“Are you happy?” You groan between contractions.

“I am the happiest man alive!” He presses his forehead with yours, purring deeply.

The second droid comes to take your baby to examine him while the other keeps monitoring you while getting rid of another soaked towel to place another one. Thrawn comes next to it and his expression worsens.

You don’t have time to worry about anything as your baby is determined to come out NOW!.

You push with your last strength, feeling the blood running down your legs.

Maker, this is so painful.

This is a real trial.

“Continue, Cha’cah. I am here with you, nothing can go wrong.”

Hearing your husband’s voice is so reassuring and gives you more strength.

You can’t wait to meet your other baby, you want them in your arms now!

The droid takes out another bloody towel. Your head is very light and you feel really, really tired. You can’t wait for it to be over.

“Do not close your eyes, Cha’cah. Stay with me!” Thrawn orders. Is that worry in his tone?

But you’re so tired, your eyes close themself.

You feel your grips on the bars loosening as you doze off.

“Are they here yet?” You ask with a little voice.

“Not yet, Cha’cah. Please stay with me.”

You sigh, exhausted. Between your half-closed eyelids you see another towel getting thrown off.

That’s a lot of blood, you think, amused.

“I am so… sleepy…” You murmur

Despite the atrocious pain, slumber is taking you.

“No, Cha’cah, stay with me. You hear me? Stay with me! Thiroy is waiting for you! Stay with-”

You don’t hear the end of that sentence, losing consciousness, following the Force’s call.

--------------------------------------------------

Thrawn stands still, stiff like stone, Thiroy in tears next to him. He gently caresses her head with his large hand, trying to console her.

But how consoling a child who lost their mother?

He leans forward to place a flower in your cold hands, a last present before closing the coffin. Thiroy presses herself against his leg, soaking his pants with her tears, he kneels and hug her, murmuring sweet nothing in her ears to appease her pain. She circles his neck and cries in the crook of his neck.

Everyone remains silent.

Everyone is here for your funerals, all the officers and stormtroopers behind their Grand Admiral, paying homage to the woman who kept their leader grounded in reality, who carried all their hope. You were never popular among them as a Jedi, but all wanted to be present to support their Admiral and his family through these hard times. All know this could have been any of the women pregnant in this room, this exile really propulsed them in their hardest trial, but it had to be you. The one keeping Thrawn sane.

They are all very conscious that something broke within him that day, a light has been extinguished in his eyes to let place to a more cold and calculated personality, with less regards for the lives under his care. The last remnants of his mercy seem to have definitively disappeared forever.

When the coffin is sealed the troops bow respectfully to their Lady, a final mark of respect for the warrior that you were. 

Thrawn remains eerily silent, with a very calm and composed expression it looks like he just buried a nobody. None is able to see the storm raging in his inner being. None could appease his solitude. He just lost the most precious being in his life, the one who gave him three children to brighten his existence.

But you are not here anymore.

And he is just an empty shell, the shadow of the Grand man he once was. 

Now stands a broken, merciless man. 

Is sanity is on the verge of collapsing, the only thing keeping him here is his three children, his three jewels, his three treasures.

He will let nothing harm them.

He failed you, but he won’t fail his children. No matter the cost, no matter the number of lives he has to sacrifice, he will keep them safe!

The ceremony ended, the hall is slowly emptying itself in a death silence. Nobody utters a word, to not make him snap.

Thrawn kisses the forehead of Thiroy and let her to her nanny, despite her cries to stay with him. He silently heads towards the nursery where is two baby boys are waiting.

You didn’t even have time to give them names…

He chose a variation of your own name, to always remember you.

Like he could ever forget his true love.

They are peacefully sleeping, unaware of the distress around them. He takes their little hands in his, squeezing them gently. They coo in response. They are so full of life. He looks at his second born, the one he also almost lost when you died with a smile on your face.

He was this close to lose both his wife and child.

But the med droids managed to save him, it’s the only reason he didn’t destroy them right there and here in a fit of rage and pain.

They couldn’t even save your life, what good are they for?

But they could save the life of someone else like they saved his son. So he didn’t destroy them.

He deeply inhales and kneels before the bassinets, breaking down crying.

He couldn’t let his daughter see him in this state, so he waited.

But now that he is alone, he lets all his bottled up emotions go free.

With his sons for only witnesses.

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

☆Tag list