#I sent in a notice to their customer service today but like I need to CALL them why won't you let me call

[silentspaces]

Rarely happens to me but it sucks when you're panicking so bad that you lose your appetite. I can count the number of times I've lost my appetite on one hand

[cantstoptheimagines]

Hunger (Carmy Berzatto | The Bear)

Summary — Things boil over between you and Carmy.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Smut (including a lowkey ‘Chef’ kink, Reader being referred to as ‘good girl’, also like one mention of birth control); Carmy mentions never having a girlfriend, so I’m rolling with that (aka Never-Been-Kissed!Virgin!Carmy is upon us!!); a little bit of angst on the side; mentions of childhood trauma and resulting body insecurities (Carmy); cursing (especially the canon-typical ‘Fuck!’); coworkers to lovers with a touch of idiots in love; some typical Original Beef arguments in the kitchen (including Carmy getting put in his place after being extremely mean); Reader accidentally gets burned by hot food; Reader is a waitress with an attitude; my attempts at casual, non-flowery, awkward, quiet conversation between Carmy and the Reader, so please don’t come after me if it sucks, lmao.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 7,942. This is a slow, slow, slow burn! Enjoy it, baby! ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ This is slightly inspired by the chaos of Season 1, Episode 7. I also want to add that this draft was started before the release of Season 2, so absolutely no spoilers in this one!

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Everything was a complete mess. An expected lunch rush had sent everything and everyone at The Beef into chaos.

You had a line of customers waiting on takeout orders while others were hoping for a table to open up. Some had immediately turned around at the door after seeing the crowd.

Richie stood behind the counter, trying his best to keep up. He gave you a nod as you cleared another table. The fake, ‘customer service’ smile on your face fell as soon as you left the dining room and entered the kitchen. Angel and Manny were both instantly by your side, taking the dishes from your arms. 

Your sigh of relief, however, didn’t last long. As soon as you turned, you were met by Sydney, who shoved a dish at you, shouting, “Hands! Once that’s out, I need you to come back for a sandwich and a salad!”

You barely caught the plate, replying, “Heard!” 

The plate was warm against your hands. The food, however, was burning hot when it flew off the dish and onto your exposed skin as someone interrupted your cry of, “Corner—!”

The plate shattered once it hit the floor, covering the tile in a mess of food. Sauce dripped down your clothes and practically seared your flesh. Amidst the hectic kitchen, only Sydney seemed to notice. She stared at you with a shocked expression as tears welled up in your eyes from the pain.

“—fucking going?!”

You blinked, clutching your blistering hand. You could already feel your skin becoming overly tender. Tears began to slide down your cheeks. Nearby, Tina had paused to see what the commotion was about with concerned eyes.

In front of you stood Carmy. Out of everyone who worked at The Beef, he was the person you were closest to. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole sometimes, especially when the restaurant was busy like today.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and then you quietly asked, “What?”

The flaring pain you were feeling made it almost impossible to focus on what anyone was saying or doing. Carmy’s words, on the other hand, were loud and clear as he took a step closer and shouted, “I asked if you can watch where you’re fucking going?!” 

Your cheeks were wet with tears, which you couldn’t stop from falling, no matter how hard you blinked. Carmy was toe-to-toe with you. He was so close that you could see the sweat on his skin and the red flush of his cheeks. His teeth were gritted as he stared at you with fiery eyes. 

“Carmy,” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, “don’t yell at me.”

He came even closer, shoes nearly slipping on the sauce that covered the tile. You avoided meeting his gaze as you continued holding your injured hand. Thankfully, the other one wasn’t as bad, though it still ached. 

“Why the fuck not, huh?!” he continued. “Open your damn eyes next time—!”

“Carmy, stop!” you demanded. “I’m hurting right now and you’re not helping—!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be if you used your fucking brain!” he snapped, taking two fingers and harshly tapping them against your temple.

You tried to take a step back, only for him to follow. You pressed your lips together in an effort to contain yourself. Sure, you were used to Carmy’s regular outbursts, but this was on a whole other level.

His nose brushed against yours with how close he was standing. Sydney reached out, placing an arm between the two of you, though it wasn’t much help. Tina was slowly coming closer. Everyone else in the kitchen had stopped working to cautiously watch the scene. Even Richie had paused service in the front to stand in the kitchen doorway, ready to step in if he needed to.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that, Carmy—!”

“I’ll do whatever I fucking want—!”

Richie finally spoke up, “Hey, cousin, leave ‘er alone, alright—?”

“I’m gonna fuck you up if don’t get outta my face—!”

Sydney was beginning to sweat, “Chef! Please calm down—!”

“If you can’t handle the heat, stay out of my fucking kitchen—!”

SLAP!

“¡Ay, mierda!” exclaimed Tina, mouth agape as your uninjured hand suddenly struck Carmy’s cheek.

The silence that took over was almost deadly. Carmy licked his lips and clenched his jaw. His cheek was already turning bright red with your handprint. A million thoughts ran through his mind as he stared at you.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say to me,” you glared, “then don’t fucking talk, Carmen! You can fuck off instead!”

Carmy kissed his teeth, refusing to open his mouth. Instead, he watched as you whipped around and stormed away from him. You were once again holding your injured hand, in which the pain was only growing worse by the second, as you disappeared around a corner without looking back.

Carmy closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. He didn’t even need to look at the expressions of his coworkers’ faces to know that he had fucked up big time.

His eyes met Sydney’s as he tugged at his thick hair. She, however, only turned away and returned to calling out orders after shaking her head. Richie, meanwhile, gave him the finger before going back to the front to continue lunch service. Everyone else in the kitchen either gave him harsh glares or stares of disappointment.

“Chef!” he called out, gaining Sydney’s attention. “I’ll be back in a few!”

Sydney slowly nodded, “Heard!” 

Carmy glanced down, looking at the mess that covered the kitchen tile, along with his work shoes. Pieces of the shattered plate were spread about as well.

“I’ll clean this up when I get back,” he said, gesturing to the floor.

“Heard!” repeated Sydney, though Carmy could tell she wished he would just leave already.

“Thank you, Chef,” he muttered.

As he passed by Marcus, the usually kind pastry chef glared at him, “You’re a real mess, Berzatto.”

Carmy sighed, slowly making his way around the same corner you disappeared behind only moments ago, “Tell me about it.”

Ebra shouted after him with a bark of laughter, “We don’t have to! You’re gonna find out when you go back there!”

Carmy rolled his eyes, turning the knob on the door that led to the back lot. That was where everyone, including you, disappeared whenever they needed to be alone.

He immediately spotted you sitting on the ground with the restaurant’s first aid kit in front of you. The injury on your hand was now covered with some burn relief gel.

You barely even glanced in his direction when the door closed behind him. The air outside was rather cold and Carmy could see the chills that covered your skin.

He nervously wrapped his hands in the hem of his apron, and then cleared his throat, “I’m sorry.” 

“Whatever,” you shook your head.

He paused, unsure of what he should say next as he blinked a few times. Finally, he licked his lips and stared down at his shoes, “Are you—uh—are you okay? I mean, you’re good?”

You scoffed quietly, shaking your head with a sardonic smile as you finished wrapping your injury with some gauze, “No, Carmy, I’m not good. Fucking asshole.”

Carmy took a deep breath, nodding slowly, “Yeah, yeah, alright. I deserve that. You—uh—gonna go early? Home, I mean? Go home early?”

You slammed the first aid kit closed, the latch snapping into place with a click! Standing up, you shoved it into Carmy’s arms, causing him to grunt at the impact against his chest. 

“Yes,” you said, “I’m going fucking home early.” 

He groaned as you pushed past him to go back inside. He slowly trailed behind you, watching you collect your coat and keys. He grimaced at the loud SLAM! of your employee locker. He knew everyone in the kitchen secretly had their ears open, each of them trying to figure out how badly Carmy had messed things up with you.

As you tried to slip past him once more, he reached out to place an arm across your front. He remained facing the empty room of employee lockers while you were facing the kitchen, forced to endure the cautious eyes of your coworkers.

With a sigh, you finally turned your gaze to him, unsure of what to make of his actions, “What?”

“Go to the doctor, alright?” he muttered, eyes gliding over your features.

Everything was much calmer now. Everyone in the kitchen seemed to have finally cleared out some of the crowd, leaving only a few stragglers. Each of them took an occasional glance at the two of you.

You bit your bottom lip. You couldn’t help but be fully aware of the way Carmy’s startling blue eyes suddenly dropped to focus on your mouth. And you definitely couldn’t stop your own gaze from doing the same, admiring the soft pink shade of his lips.

Maybe it was wrong to be so attracted to your boss. But when your boss was Carmy, you didn’t really care. And there were times, like now, when it felt as though he didn’t care either.

Sure, he could be a real asshole sometimes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t easy on the eyes. Your eyes, more specifically.

“Yo, cousin, we’ve got—! Oh!”

Carmy finally tore his stare away from you, and said, “Just a sec, Richie.”

“Yeah,” nodded Richie, tossing his hands into the air. “Yeah, sure. Didn’t mean to interrupt... whatever this is.”

Carmy rolled his eyes before finally returning his attention to you. His stare softened and his fingers dug into the clothing that covered your hip with a gentle squeeze.

“Doctor,” he whispered, “‘kay?”

You finally muttered, “Okay, Bear.”

Carmy gave you a nod, heart pounding when he heard his nickname fall from your lips. Your hip received a few pats and a gentle rub before his arm disappeared from your path. As you walked away, he finally turned to face everyone in the kitchen, all of whom had their eyes on him.

“Well,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “get back to fucking work!”

At the same time, he could hear you ordering Richie, who had followed you to the front, to ‘shut his fucking mouth’.

You unlocked the back entrance of The Beef. It was way past closing time and each of your coworkers had already gone home. In fact, you had only come back to get the tips you had left behind after your argument and semi-reconciliation with Carmy.

You flicked on one set of smaller lights before making your way through the kitchen and into the front room. Richie always cashed out your tips for you before his shift over and tonight was no different. On the counter, right next to the register, you found a wad of cash and a sticky note with your name on it.

Unfortunately, you were too focused on counting out the money to notice someone appear in the doorway. That is, until they spoke, “Hey.”

You gasped in surprise, clutching at your chest in a failed attempt to stop your pounding heart, “Fuck! Are you trying to kill me?!”

Carmy smiled down at his feet as he leaned against the kitchen’s door frame. He watched you shove your tips into the pocket of your heavy coat. He nodded towards your hand, and asked, “Rent due?”

You nodded back, “Yeah. Tomorrow morning.”

He hummed quietly, “See a doctor?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Gave me some stuff to put on it. They said it should be good in a week or two. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be.” 

“Right,” he said, twisting the hem of his apron around his hands.

He watched your eyes drift to where his fingers wrapped themselves in the blue fabric. The realization that the two of you were alone, without the stress of your loud coworkers or a line of customers, overwhelmed him.

“You do that a lot, ya know,” you said, gesturing to his hands, “when you’re nervous and stuff.”

He shuffled awkwardly, shook his head, and then shrugged, “Hard not to be. We cool?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. One of Carmy’s hands rose to his lips, allowing him to anxiously bite his nails, while the other disappeared into his pocket. The soft glow coming from the back of the kitchen made him look like an angel.

A tired, fidgety, nervous wreck of an angel.

It was hard for him to breathe when you suddenly moved closer and closer until you stood mere inches away from him. He stared at your hand that untucked itself from your coat pocket. Yet, it wasn’t until you gently wrapped your fingers around his forearm, tugging his hand away from his nail-biting habit, that he knew it was over for him. 

“Carmy?”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”

His mind flashed back to all the times Richie had caught him staring at you and made fun of him for doing so.

And how after Sydney had first met you, she turned to him after you had walked away and quietly asked if you were his girlfriend.

And the way Tina almost beat his ass earlier for shouting at you so viciously after everyone else had left for the night, leaving him to wallow alone in his office.

Or the way he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to your lips while your hand gently rubbed his arm, listening closely as you whispered, “We’re cool.” 

“Good,” he muttered.

Your lips parted with a soft, shuddering gasp. Slowly, Carmy had tilted his head and began leaning in. Your grip on him tightened just as his free hand untucked itself from his pocket. His palm slid under your coat and landed on the same hip he had held earlier that day.

His nose brushed against yours. His fingers dug into you, splayed out against your clothed waist. His eyes slowly fell shut as did yours. After that, it didn’t take long before your lips met his.

You could feel the warmth of his cheeks when you placed your palms against them. You pulled him closer until you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, intertwining your fingers in his hair.

Carmy’s lips moved against yours tentatively. His other hand slowly slipped beneath your coat to caress your back. He groaned at the feeling of you gently scratching his scalp as your fingers ran through his hair.

Slowly, he pulled away, but only slightly. Your hands dropped to his shoulders and then traveled along his strong arms before finally wrapping around his waist. His apron loosened when you tugged at the strings.

Carmy felt his cheeks warm as he allowed you to remove the blue fabric from his body. He watched it fall to the floor and then made an effort to copy your movements, gently pushing your coat off your shoulders before letting it join his apron.

He sighed softly when you pressed your lips against his in a series of short, gentle kisses, “I’ve—uh—I’ve never…”

He trailed off quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed. Richie had always given him shit for being a virgin. But Carmy had gone through life without friends, let alone girlfriends.

“Carmy?”

His lip quivered when his eyes met yours again. He was surprised to find your gaze void of judgment. Instead, you gave him a small smile and gently pressed your hands into his lower back. He hummed quietly when you repeated his name.

Glancing at his lips, you murmured, “Do you want to?”

Despite the millions of thoughts running through his mind, he was still very clear, albeit quiet, with his answer, “With you? Yeah.”

You nodded silently. One of your hands gently pushed some of his thick, messy hair behind his ear. His eyes fell closed at the feeling.

“Was that your first kiss?”

“You gonna laugh at me if it was?” he asked.

You smiled at the way his cheeks flushed with red, and replied, “‘Course not. It’s like that for lots of people.”

He licked his lips, opening his eyes. His fingertips went deeper into your hips. Fuck, you were being so nice to him.

“It was,” he confessed. “That was my first kiss. I’ve never done any of it. Dates, girlfriends, none of it.”

“Okay,” you said, still allowing your fingers to trace through his hair. “You still want to?”

He paused, eyes exploring your features, “Yeah.”

“We can stop any time you want,” you said. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” 

Carmy licked his lips again, hooded eyes drifting to your mouth. Slowly, he nodded and pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes closed and your noses brushed. He could his heart pounding in his chest, briefly wondering if you could as well as he collided his lips with yours once again. 

His fingers delved deeper into your hips. Your hands, meanwhile, tugged at his thick hair, forcing a grunt out of him. He was surprised by how much he liked the feeling. 

Pulling away, though not far enough to avoid the kisses that were now being pressed onto his jaw, Carmy quietly gasped for air, head tilting back as he asked, “Can we go to my office?”

He felt you nod against him in response. He then tugged you along in the direction of his office, biting his lip at the feeling of your mouth on his warm skin. He turned the two of you so that he could see where he was going. Not that doing so was much help since his eyes began fluttering at the feeling of a gentle bite sinking into the flesh of his neck.

One of his hands left your hip momentarily. His palm gripped at one of the metal counters in the kitchen, barely steadying himself. He was nearly tripping over his own feet, distracted by the pleasure you were already sending throughout his body. 

His hand quickly left the countertop. It found a new place on the back of your neck, but only after the two of you finally made it into his office, where he immediately pulled you into another kiss.

Slowly, your hands disappeared from his hair, opting to slip beneath the fabric of his shirt and gently scratch his back instead. You smiled against his lips, nearly breaking the kiss, upon noticing him shiver at the feeling. He practically arched into you, both of his hands moving to your cheeks in order to deepen the kiss.

His white shirt complimented the golden chain around his neck. It was something you had seen him wear plenty of times. And for Carmy, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that to change just yet.

He paused when you began to slide his shirt up, obviously preparing to remove it from his body. He gently wrapped his hands around your forearms to stop you. His lips then moved away from yours. His head ducked as he cleared his throat, avoiding your concerned gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, eyes beginning to burn. “I’m—uh—It’s just—I don’t—I don’t think—! Shit, I’m sorry! Sorry! Sorry—!” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” you interrupted, gently wiping away any tears that had started to make an appearance on his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Carmy.” 

He sniffled, cheeks warming with embarrassment, upon having felt your hands withdraw from underneath his shirt. His breathing had quickened, along with his heartbeat.

Carmy hid his face against your neck when one of your arms wrapped around him. You softly rubbed the space between his shoulders. Your other hand gently stroked the back of his head, fingers running through his hair once more. Meanwhile, his hands had dropped to your ribs in an effort to steady himself again. 

“We can stop—”

He interrupted you within seconds, shaking his head as he finally met your eyes, “No. I don’t want to. I—uh—I’m just—my childhood wasn’t the best, ya know? Parents were always fightin’ over stupid shit. And sometimes, my dad—well, he—uh—he’d take some of it out on us—”

“Oh, Carmy,” you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.

He continued, caressing your ribs with his thumbs, “He didn’t do it a lot, but, ya know, my back’s kinda, like, got scars and stuff.”

Pulling him closer, you nodded, still allowing him to lead the conversation, “Okay. Okay.” 

“I promise I wanna do this,” he sniffled again before taking a deep sigh, “but I wanna keep my shirt on. For now anyway. For this time.” 

You nodded again, giving him a small smile and lightly tracing the variety of small freckles on his cheeks, “Of course. Anything you want.”

Carmy hesitantly met your eyes. The startling ocean blue sent chills down your spine, especially when he muttered, “God, you’re so fucking sweet.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to reply. Instead, his hands traveled to your back and pushed you against him in a quick, unwavering motion. He groaned at the feeling of your fingertips imprinting themselves into the fabric of his shirt. His lips moved against yours in yet another heated kiss, though this one was much more desperate than the others had been. 

In that moment, as your hands wandered along his clothed back, venturing to the waistband of his pants, Carmy could picture himself falling in love with you.

In the space between your kisses, gasps of air escaped your throat, “Let me make you feel good, Bear.”

Carmy nodded. His lower back gently collided with the edge of his desk. He watched as you slowly undid his pants. He groaned and his cheeks flushed red at the sight of you lowering to your knees. One of his hands shifted to grip his desk while the other raked through his hair.

Before he knew it, his pants were pooling around his ankles and his hard-on was showing prominently through his briefs. His head tilted back and his gaze met the ceiling as your fingers delved into the waistband of the fabric covering his throbbing cock.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

“Carmy?” your quiet voice cut through the tension. “You still okay?”

“I’m fucking perfect,” he whispered. “Please keep going.”

Your amusement was obvious. Carmy hissed when your smiling lips met the flesh of his stomach. He slightly tugged up the hem of his shirt in order to give you more access to his briefs, trying to prepare himself for his first blowjob ever.

The hand that had been in his hair quickly entangled itself in your own. His briefs were slowly being removed with every kiss you gave his skin, your movements trailing lower and lower with every passing second. You stopped at the last possible moment, pulling away and giving a final tug at his briefs.

At last, they fell, finding their place around Carmy’s ankles, alongside his pants. He couldn’t help but watch as his cock sprang free, nearly slapping against his stomach. You eyed it for a moment, licking your lips at the sight of the dark vein on the side and the way it curved slightly to the left. 

Carmy took your pause for negativity. His thumb softly caressed your temple as he murmured, “You alright—? Oh, shit!”

He was suddenly on cloud nine. Fire burned in his chest. Both of his hands moved to tightly grip the back of your neck. One of your hands grasped onto his tense forearm while the other held his cock. Your tongue traced over the vein that you had been admiring. 

His eyes closed and his head tilted back. He could feel you smiling as you pressed a kiss against his cock’s mushroom-shaped head. Your lips trailed along his length until you reached his balls. 

“Fuck!” he groaned, mouth falling open.

The way your tongue lapped at his balls while your hand stroked his swollen length set his stomach on fire. He could feel a layer of sweat beginning to appear on his forehead.

You were a fucking god. And Carmy felt ready to worship you.

Suddenly, you were at the head of his cock again, slowly taking him into your warm mouth. Carmy looked down to watch it happen and nearly came at the sight of you.

Your lips stretched around him. His hands moved to be on either side of your face, gently caressing your temples with the pads of his thumbs. Both of your palms wrapped around his bare thighs.

Carmy hissed at the feeling of his cock disappearing into your mouth as you began bobbing your head along his length. Though when he felt you fondle his balls with a sudden squeeze, he couldn’t stop an abrupt buck of his hips. 

You gagged when the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. He furrowed his eyebrows, concerned, as you pulled away, gasping for air. He wiped away the saliva that had built up at the corners of your lips, “Shit! You okay? I didn’t—I didn’t mean to do that!” 

You sniffed, laughing as you brushed off the small tears that came from your eyes, “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Unsure of what to say, Carmy nodded silently. He continued tracing your temples in an effort to comfort you, trying to ignore his cock, which continued to throb between his legs. Meanwhile, you rubbed at his thighs, still trying to catch your breath. 

“Hey, hey,” he muttered, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze, “you sure you’re alright?” 

Your eyebrows rose, your fingertips dug into his flesh, and then you smiled, “I’m fine. But Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re fucking huge.” 

And in yet another wave of shyness, Carmy couldn’t stop the blush that appeared on his face. You chuckled, leaning forward to kiss the space above his pelvis, slowly wrapping a hand around his cock once more. Your eyes remained on him as his lips fell open and moans escaped his chest.

“Hey?” you muttered. 

He watched as you leaned against his stomach, resting your chin atop the fabric of his shirt to stare up at him. He shivered at the way your pupils grew. They nearly overtook your irises, leaving only a sliver of their nature shade. 

“Yeah?”

Your teeth dug into your lower lip. Carmy admired the glow that had overwhelmed your skin. He shuddered when your hand tugged particularly hard at his cock.

“Can you fuck my face, Chef?” you whispered. “I want your cock down my throat ‘til I can’t breathe.” 

“Fuck,” he muttered, thumbs softly caressing your cheeks. “You sure? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you breathed. “I want you to feel good, Carmy.” 

He hissed at the sudden feeling of your tongue once again tracing over his length. The head of his cock was then repeatedly kissed in a soothing pattern. One of his hands moved to tightly grip the edge of his desk. The other continued smoothing over the skin of your cheek as you took him back into your mouth.

With a hand on his thigh and the other shifting to wrap around his forearm, you slowly dragged his hand to the back of your neck. Carmy panted heavily at the feeling of his hard cock sinking deeper into your throat. He successfully held back his quivering hips, not wanting to accidentally choke you a second time. 

His fingers dug into your skin, his mouth fell open, and heat rose beneath his skin. He looked down to find you with nearly his entire cock in your mouth. The sensation of your tongue swirling around him made him want to cum on the spot. And he nearly did so when your lips finally met the base of his cock. 

Your nose dug into his pelvis. He then felt the mushroom-shaped head of his cock reach the back of your throat, only you didn’t pull away for a fresh burst of air this time. He caressed the back of your neck in an effort to ease the tension. 

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes, soaking your eyelashes. You were doing your best to breathe through your nose. His grip on you tightened when your eyes suddenly looked up at him.

The sight of you staring at him with tear-filled eyes and your lips stretched around his cock made him curse. Both hands quickly returned to your face so he could brush away the glistening tears. After admiring your flushed appearance, he muttered, “You ready?” 

He took the moan you let out around his length as confirmation. The vibrations of it, along with the way your fingers were now tightly grasping at the backs of his thighs in preparation, made him hiss with pleasure. 

He groaned at the wet sounds of your mouth as he began gently thrusting in and out of your throat. He cursed repeatedly, especially when you continued to moan around him. Upon seeing you shut your eyes, however, he patted your cheek to bring your focus back to him.

He smiled down at you when you met his gaze, “Eyes on me, alright? You’re makin’ me feel so—ah!—good right now. Oh, fuck! You’re fucking amazing, ya know that? Oh!” 

Heat was growing in the pit of your stomach when you realized how much pleasure you were giving him. You could feel yourself becoming wetter and wetter by the second. 

You couldn’t help but gag around him when he suddenly gave a rough thrust. You were sure his thighs would have finger-shaped bruises by the end of the night with how strong your grip on him was. 

Carmy’s thrusts were picking up pace. He tossed his head back, eyes shut tight and his mouth agape with silent moans. You wanted him to fuck your face? Then he would do exactly that. 

He repeatedly shoved you down to the base of his cock. With every thrust of his hips, he felt his balls slap against you. The sounds of you practically gasping for air as you choked on his length made him shiver with a blissful expression.

“Fuck!” he groaned. “So fucking good! You’re perfect, ya know?”

His moans continued. The echoes of his cock pumping in and out of your mouth caused warmth to slowly build up within the pit of his stomach. With a few final thrusts, he pressed himself as deep as he could into your throat.

You choked around the sudden release of cum that flooded your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as Carmy pressed you further onto his length. Your nose dug into the skin of his pelvis and you were slowly losing the ability to breathe.

Carmy grunted, now gazing down at you with heavily lidded eyes, as his cock released thick, white ropes of his cum. He huffed in an effort to regain his breath. You, however, made that difficult with each and every time you swallowed around him, taking in all of his cum without a second thought. 

His cock was still hard when you finally pulled away. Your tongue ran over the tip while one of your hands moved to stroke his length. Before you could send him tumbling into overstimulation, Carmy tugged you upwards. 

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, barely able to keep hold of you between heavy pants. You could practically feel his confidence finally starting to bloom within him. 

Twirling in order to switch your positions, you tugged him closer, urging him to help you onto his messy desk. He quickly did so after reaching out to shove aside what seemed like a million unorganized papers. They fell to the floor, some even crumpling beneath his shoes as he stepped on them. 

His large, tattooed hands slipped beneath your shirt as he moaned at the feeling of your lips against his neck. He grasped onto the back of your bra and tugged... to no avail. Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice. 

His face flushed red, especially when your clothed thighs squeezed closer to his hips. His cock began to throb as it met the covered space between your legs, desperate and eager for what was to come. 

Carmy furrowed his eyebrows and tried a second time to unclasp your bra. When it refused to budge, he couldn’t help but curse. And he nearly let out another when your affections came to a pause. 

Your kisses slowed. Pressing one against his ear, you whispered, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. 

You tried not to laugh when you felt another tug, “Carm? D’you need help?” 

He cursed a little louder. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to conceal a grin as you tucked your face into the crevice of his shoulder. When he confirmed your suspicions, you leaned away and did your best to give him a warm, comforting smile. You unhooked your bra and removed it from beneath your shirt with ease, tossing it aside. 

Carmy’s expression shifted into one of frustration, though his eyes shined with a bit of awe, “How the fuck did you do that?” 

Your hands ran over his shoulders as you asked, “Really wanna have that conversation right now?” 

He paused for a moment, seemingly taking some time to think over your words, “Fuck no.” 

You allowed yourself to laugh that time, “Then come here.” 

Carmy found it difficult to breathe when you tugged him closer. The scent of your shampoo fogged his mind as he hid your face against your neck. Your hands guided his, leading them beneath your shirt. He let out a deep sigh when his palms met the warmth of your skin. 

As his hands began tentatively exploring your breasts, he tried to ease his nerves by layering a series of open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat. Meanwhile, you busied yourself with undoing your pants. 

“You have big hands, Carm,” you muttered, leaning your cheek against his messy head of hair as he indulged him in his affections. 

Big, warm, tattooed hands. His thumbs ran over your nipples occasionally as he gently squeezed you. His fingers dug into the plush of your skin. 

Despite having little room with the way Carmy was leaning against you, you managed to push your pants off your waist, shifting your hips in order to do so. As he continued palming at your breasts, he flushed a deeper shade of red, thankful his face was still hidden from your view. 

“Is that a good thing?” he questioned. “Big hands?” 

He felt you nod in response, “It’s hot.” 

In more ways than one, he believed, due to the heat building up in his stomach. His forehead had developed a thin layer of sweat as well. He followed your lead when you directed his hands to your hips instead. When his fingertips met the hem of your underwear, he inhaled sharply. 

“Think you can get these off without any help?” 

He stopped pressing warm kisses against your neck to meet your gaze. With narrowed eyes, he tilted his head at your teasing tone, licking his lips with an amused grin, “Shut up. What happened to the nice, sweet, good girl from before?” 

Holy shit. 

His comment made you pause. Your semi-arrogant smile fell, becoming one of shyness instead. Carmy’s, on the other hand, brightened. He had somehow managed to turn the tables. Seems like it was your turn to be embarrassed. 

He ran his hands over your thighs, gently pulling you closer. He continued to smile as you avoided his gaze. 

“Hey,” he muttered, placing a hand on your cheek and encouraging your eyes to meet his, “d’you like it when I call you that?” 

His smile was softer now. His body language, however, was giving off a newfound confidence, something you didn’t get to see very often. But with the way he caressed your skin, palms rubbing you soothingly in a steady pattern, you could tell he genuinely wanted to know. 

He furrowed his eyebrows when you offered a mumbled reply, “Hmm?” 

With shivers running along your spine and an affirming nod, you repeated yourself, “I do. Yes.”

“Yes, who?” he asked, cursing himself only seconds later for the question.

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking a deep breath in surprise. Your eyes fell to his lips, thinking about feeling them on yours again. Carmy watched you carefully when they did so. His cock throbbed heavily between his legs as the head gently bumped against your clothed entrance with every move he made. 

You met his eyes again when his fingers delved into the flesh of your thigh. Admiring his blown pupils, you answered, “Yes, Chef.” 

Both of his hands came to your hips. His fingers sunk into the hem of your underwear as he whispered, “Can I?” 

He slowly slid the fabric down your legs when you gave him a whispered confirmation. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you pulled him closer. His lips hovered over yours with a groan as your free hand wrapped around his cock.

“Are you sure?” 

Carmy’s eyes, which had been squeezed shut, slowly fluttered open. They flew over your features before he finally nodded, “Yeah.” 

Your lips met his in a soft kiss before your forehead came to rest against his. With your hand gently stroking his length, Carmy couldn’t stop himself from letting out a gasp. He looked down to watch your movements with desperate, hooded eyes. 

You ran the mushroom head through your wet folds. Carmy would’ve been embarrassed by his fascination at the way his cock glistened with your wetness if he wasn’t too busy groaning in pleasure. 

“Gotta go slow, okay? I’ll have to adjust,” you said, and then a quiet laugh filled the air between the two of you. “Like I told you, you’re big.”  

Carmy was sure his skin was cherry red by now, due to a combination of the growing heat in his stomach and your compliments. His mouth fell open and his eyebrows furrowed when your hand eased the head of his cock into your entrance. He couldn’t stop his fingers dug into your skin, creating indents on your thighs. 

Arms encasing your lower back, he pressed himself closer, furthering the reach of his cock. His chest met yours, both of your shirts rubbing against the other. He could both see and feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. 

Your hand that had been guiding him moved upwards, threading through his thick, unruly hair. He didn’t even need to move for you to start letting out a series of gasping moans. The sheer size of him was enough. 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you nudged him as close as you could. His warmth melted into yours. His skin was aglow with heat, effort, and sweat. His length sinks deeper, stretching you wide and open for him. You hiss at the feeling. 

Oh, yeah. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever had. 

You kiss the bridge of his nose as you adjust to his size. Carmy quickly raises his head so his lips can meet yours. It’s a struggle, given how difficult it is for either of you to properly breathe at the moment. 

Carmy’s cheeks are flushed red entirely. He’s burning on the inside with a newfound desperation for you. His cock throbs inside your walls and he feels as though he’s being drowned in your body by the pressure. Meanwhile, you can hardly focus on anything besides the noises he continuously lets out. 

He hisses and groans with every shift, not expecting the feeling to be so tight. You’re dripping with so much arousal that it’s nearly soaking his pelvis and thighs. As his hands traveled under the fabric of your shirt to practically claw at your back, he can’t help but think about how the feeling of you around him is infinitely better than that of his own fist. 

In that moment, Carmy knew you had ruined him for anyone else. He was completely, without any doubt in his mind, yours. And fucking proud of it too. 

“You can move,” you whispered, strengthening your grip around his shoulders and tugging at his hair. 

One of his arms curled further around you. His palm landed between your shoulder blades, slowly gliding over your skin that was hidden beneath your shirt. The other wrapped around your lower back. 

His cheek leaned against yours as he gasped heavily into your ear after the first roll of his hips. Your hand continued to pull at his dark strands of hair, the other tangling itself in his shirt. 

Slowly, he rocked into you, the pace starting off easy and unhurried. Given his size, you could already feel the head of Carmy’s cock gently bumping against your cervix. You gasped heavily with each of his movements. Your body writhed against him. 

“Faster,” you muttered. “Carmy, go faster. Oh, fuck, please.” 

Carmy melted at the way your moans echoed throughout his office. He huffed repeatedly with effort as his thrusts steadily increased. The slapping of skin, along with the slick sounds of your wet entrance, filled the room. Carmy couldn’t help but curse when your teeth suddenly sunk into the crevice of his neck. 

“Shit!” he exclaimed. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Could stay inside you forever! Damn it! Wanna stay, wanna stay!”  

Your mind felt empty of anything besides Carmy. His warm breath hitting your skin as he rambled on and on. The way he clawed at you desperately, trying to bring you impossibly closer. How his balls were repeatedly slapping against your dripping arousal. 

“Carmy!” you whined, trying your best to redirect his grip on you, which was rather difficult due to his lightning pace. “Here! Touch me here! Make me cum! Make me let go on your cock! Oh, shit, you’re—ah!” 

You guided his fingers against your clit. Despite his state of pleasured delirium, Carmy seemed to understand what you wanted from him. He massaged the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves down your spine. 

The tightly wound cord within you finally snaps. You cry out, gripping onto Carmy in order to gain at least some sense of stability. He continues to rut in and out of you like no tomorrow.

The only inclination that he knows you’ve finally cum is the pitchy moan he lets out when your walls constrict his cock with every wave of release. His hand is covered in your cum and he can’t stop himself from pulling his face out of hiding.

With one arm still around you and his hips still slapping loudly, he’s quite the vision when he suddenly brings his fingers to his mouth. It’s then, as he gets a taste of you, that he decides you’re his new favorite meal. In just one night, you’ve made him insatiable.

His hand goes for another round, trying to collect more of your wetness on his fingertips. Meanwhile, you’re beginning to collapse into overstimulation. You take to pressing your forehead against Carmy’s shoulder, panting and huffing as his throbbing length continues to delve deep into your dripping hole. 

Carmy’s trying his best to take in every bit of you that he can, repeatedly collecting your release to press against his tongue as he pounds into you. He rubs at your clit with reckless abandon, craving more of the taste. 

“Please, please,” he begged, distressed at the very idea that you might not cum again. “Wanna keep tasting you! You’re so fucking good!” 

He’s unaware that your moans are no longer coherent. The only thing that continues to tumble from your lips is the sound of your uncontrollable gasps for air and an occasional curse.

Given it was his first time, you hadn’t expected him to have so much stamina. His thrusts seemed impossibly fast, pistoning in and out of you at lightning speed without a second thought. 

Sinking against him, another orgasm washed over you as your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Carmy groaned at the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock, “Fuck, I can’t—! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum, fuck, oh—!” 

His entire lower half rolls into you. He can feel crescents forming in his skin with how deep your nails are digging into him. He thrusts again, once, twice, and then a third time before he’s spilling into you. His cum seeps out around his cock, forming a white ring at the base. 

Despite hardly being able to breathe, he pulls you into a kiss. His lips move against yours in gentle movements. It’s a stark contrast to the way he had been pounding into you only seconds ago. His length is beginning to soften inside you, which you’re slightly grateful for. You weren’t entirely sure you’d make it through another round of that. 

“Are you okay?” he muttered, lips haphazardly meeting yours as his cock leaves you. “Shit, I didn’t mean to cum inside. I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head, “I’m on birth control. And I can get a morning-after pill.” 

He nods in response and then his eyebrows scrunch up. You almost laugh, wanting nothing more than to smooth out the ridges between them. Your hands glide over the fabric of his shirt, tracing over his chest absentmindedly. 

Pressing another kiss against his jaw, you ask him just to make sure, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, hands slipping beneath your shirt in order to rub your back. “It’s just—uh—I don’t know, it’s stupid—”

“I’m sure it’s not,” you interrupted, not wanting him to lose the confidence you had seen in him only minutes prior. “What is it? You can tell me anything.” 

His eyes quickly darted to the side. Although they only did so for a split second, you still noticed. Following the direction of his glance, your gaze lands on your discarded bra.

Carmy lets out a quiet curse as he zips up his pants, realizing that he had been caught. He ignores your smirk while he pulls you off his desk and helps you do the same. Even though helping you put your clothes back on is something no one else had ever done for you after sex before, you knew it was at least partially meant to distract you from your new revelation.

You quickly decide, however, that you can’t help yourself. With a smile, you quietly say his name in an effort to bring his attention back to you. 

“Hmm?” he muttered, trying to ignore the way your hands trace gently over his shoulders while he rebuttons your pants. 

You slowly tilt his head, leaving him with no choice but to meet your eyes. You repeat his name in a sing-song voice, “Carmy!” 

He grasped your hands in his and pulled them away from his face. He quickly distracts himself by playing with your fingers. After a moment, he sighed before looking at you with softened eyes. 

“Can you teach me the bra thing now?” 

Your face brightens with an amused laugh. Carmy instantly groans in embarrassment, throwing his head back and swatting gently at your backside with a muttered, “Stop that! I told you it was fucking dumb!” 

“No, no,” you shook your head, still chuckling as he rolled his eyes. “Pass it here, Berzatto. Then you can keep it as a homework assignment.” 

He muttered a curse under his breath, which only made you fall into another fit of laughter. He then picked your bra up from the floor and handed it over. With an arm on either side of your hips, he rests his palms on his desk that sat behind you. All his weight leans onto them and you can’t help but smile at how close he is while he stares intently at your hands, waiting for you to begin your lesson.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Hello! I love reading you work, i was wondering if you could make a story about sugarboo defending Al and Seth from nasty comments people make on them. I love the idea sugarboo popping off on someone to defend their loved ones

Insult MY boys? Nah come get verbally wrecked.

TW: homophobia, old people being fuck heads. Telling someone to kill themselves.

Idk if I can write the f word (I'm pan) but I just ended up using slur instead.

It was a normal day in the bakery, Boo was helping a new hire. The boy was a grandson of one of the sweeter old lady's in town. Teaching them how to take orders when, Susan, walked in.

"Great. Okay, Lucca can you go in the back please? Just tell Sally that Susan is here. She'll understand." Whispering Boo shooed the new hire to the back. They don't need to deal with this bitch on the first day.

"Hhmm, who did you just sent away? Afraid I'll scare them off?" Sniffing Susan then looked at he pastries in the glass displays. The baker kept their cool and shrugged leaning on the counter.

"Nope, don't want them to meet a person as colorful as you this early in the morning." Nonchalantly saying as they stood up as another customer came in. Susan was about to speak but the customer that came in asked.

"Oh! Susan, are you ordering or about to start something?" The old man huffed as he ignored her and began ordering his usual. A muffin with a coffee, Boo gladly ranged him up and giggled silently as Susan gasped.

"I was here first! Boo how dare-" A chim from the register interrupted her as Boo gave Wilson his change. Waving him goodbye before turning to the old lady again.

"Ma'am. You were browsing the pastries, not ordering. The gentleman who just came in did, you weren't skipped. Would you like to order now?" Putting on a fake customer service smile Boo looked at the blonde woman. Who, huffed and yelled as she walked pit of the bakery.

"So rude! How the hell are you even in business in this town?!" With a slam the front door was closed. Rolling their eyes again and sighing, they hears another door open. Turning they saw Lucca staring with wide eyes.

"How did you get her to leave so quickly? She's a nightmare with the other stores...." Mumbling Lucca came to Sugarboo's side. His boss shrugged and was about to speak but the door opened again.

Groaning they hope it wasn't Susan, but finally turning their smile brighten seeing their boys. Alphonse waved and Seth flashed a warm smile, both came up to the counter.

"Hey Boo. Saw Susan was she being the 'Queen Diva' she is?" Chuckling as he leaned on the counter. His partner nodded and then looked at Seth with a smile.

"Why're you here hon? Thought you worked today?" Asking Boo went around the corner and hugged him. Seth laughed a bit, hugging them back with the same love.

"Yeah, but Jonas. Tried to fight me, 'cause he saw me and Alphonse close together." Rolling his eyes, the mentioned of Susan's husband annoying him. That asshole always was open with how he didn't like the 'unholy' affection between the two men.

"Honestly wish they move. Would be better for the whole town if ya ask me." The pinkette voiced as he went behind the counter and picked up a donut. Causing his lover to scowl at him, along with folding their arms.

The three didn't notice Susan, red faced in the front door entrance. Who heard the whole conversation ready to yell. But Lucca did trying to get one of the trio's attention.

"Hey! Don't just eat that, just because your-" A bang made everyone snap their heads to the source of the noise. Seeing Susan looking like the she devil herself as she stalked to them.

"Listen here you unholy and disgusting gay people! Me and my husband can see how ungodly you are. EXPECIALLY you pink fairy and his dumb fake cowboy!" Growling out she panted angrily. Alphonse and Seth just blinked at her.

Then looked at Boo who was looking at Susan crazy, but the old lady didn't see it. So, she continued with her insults.

"You should have stayed gone! Your parents were brought to shame as soon as we found out about your unholy relationship! Honestly two men? It's absurd! You both don't even deserve to be-" Boo interrupted her by getting in her line of sight. Susan froze up, seeing Boo glaring coldly at her and slowly walking to her.

"Listen here, you STUPID. IGNORANT. WANNA BE GOOD CHRISTAN!" Hissing out Boo stopped in front of Susan and pointed at her. "How dare you try and judge MY BOYS for being themselves. Also how DARE you speak about Alphonse's parents! They were good people who brought Seth in because of his fucked up dad!" Yelling Boo slowly made Susan backed up to the front door.

Lucca flinched at every word Boo said, looking over he thought one of their partners would step in. The young man only saw Alphonse continuing to eat his donut and Seth leaning on the counter watching the whole thing. Turning away from the yelling in the background he decided to ask them quietly.

"Are...are you not gonna stop them?..." shyly asking the boy looked at the taller men. Seth made a noise and turned to him, Alphonse shook his head.

"Once Boo gets like this they won't stop till they rip you down and leave nothing behind." Swollowing the rest of the donut Alphonse wiped his mouth. Letting Seth finish his sentence, who turned back to the yelling their Sugarboo was making.

"Their protective of us. Sugar doesn't care if you make a jab at them. But try and strike for us? They'll make a banshee seem quiet by their hollerin'." Answering Lucca, Seth then smirked as he saw Susan cowering before Sugar.

"Yeah, should have seen them holler at old man McKellen last year when they first moved in. He called me a slur, then told me to off myself. Boo was NOT happy. Never seen a old man apologize so quickly." Turning back to his partner he smiled widely. He loved when Boo got protective showed everyone they weren't just a sweet baker. They were also a badass.

"-AND ANOTHER THING! YOU AND YOUR HUSBAND ARE BANNED FROM MY BAKERY! GET THE FUCK OUT!" Screaming Boo pointed to the door. Susan still suprised by the screaming she enduring listened and left quickly. Standing g there Sugarboo was panting angrily before turning with a worried look. Before they could speak Alphonse spoke first.

"Were fine Boo. Words from these old fucks don't do shit anymore." Comforting the pinkette went to Boo who hugged him. Seth then pushed off the counter and joined the hug. Kissing their forehead gently, whispering to them.

"Were fine, Sug. You gave that lady a holler she'll never forget. Wanna take the rest of the day off? I think Lucca can handle himself." Words made Sugarboo realized their new hire was standing there. Turning they saw his eyes sparkling with awe as he began to speak.

"That was so cool! Holy shit, Boss you ripped into that lady!" Excitedly saying, he turned hearing someone opening the back. Seeing Sally, a older woman smiling at them.

"Just go, ya big softy. I can handle the fort. Suzanne is coming over in a little while anyways. Go." Sternly saying the cook smiled. Alphonse then tugged gently on Boo, Seth then went to the front door.

"See? Their good! Let's bounce!" Chuckling at Sugarboo who was shuttering trying to reply. Sally shook her heads as the raven haired woman watched them.

"Ah, young love. I'm glad those three found eachother. They, they know each other you know? Ah, what am I sayin'.....come on kid I'll teach ya the ropes." Mumbling to herself she then addressed the young man. Who nodded and listened to her every word, wondering a but what she meant as them knowing each other.

[neppy-34]

Puzzle pieces

3900 words/lee Lyla ler Miguel/romantic relationship

The orange lights of Miguel’s office illuminated his facial structure, highlighting his cheekbones and extenuating the contours of his face.

Tapping away at numerous screens, watching and cataloginging, almost as if it was Miguel's second nature.

His efforts were tireless, consistently observing different encounters between anomalies and spidermen alike, outsourcing locations and listing the number of captives that needed to be sent to their original dimensions.

His posture was a rigid Miguel‘s shoulders hunched as he put all focus and energy into the screens in front of him. Steady breaths were the only thing that could be heard beyond the whirrs and hums of the machines surrounding him. Totally engrossed in his work,Miguel was unable to register the gentle, yellow hue that materialized itself next to him.

The yellow contrasted with the orange light, yet miguel still was unaware of the presence next to him.

“Hey, big guy”

Miguel had to force himself to refrain from jumping at the newly noticed noise, simply bristling for a moment then smoothly looking over to the source of the noise.

Miguel's eyes landed on a pair of bright pink glasses, much too large for the face they were resting on. The yellow light shone like an angelic presence. Illuminating the dark room with soft, hopeful hues.

“Lyla, don't sneak up on me like that”

Miguel's voice sounded more disinterested than he had hoped, the cold tone seeping into his now shared environment with venomous vigor. Red eyes glowed in the darkness, the velvet colored spheres seeming almost to float, the rest of Miguel's body fading in the background.

Both of them glowed, watching each other.

Miguel opened his mouth, fangs falling on his bottom lip. He tried to conjure up some type of an apology, he hadnt meant to be so cold. The tone of his reprimand now creating an uncomfortable, awkward silence.

Before he could speak, lyla glitched closer to him, her hologram standing at what would be her regular human height. Still so much smaller compared to the monument Miguel's physique had become after all these years.

“I want to be in my body today.”

Lyla blinked a few times, and Miguel had to suppress a smile at how unneeded blinking was for her. Finding a sense of amusement in the undeniably human behavior that she had picked up.

Lyla’s physical body was finicky to say the least it often disconnected her from its metal casing. It often ran out of battery prematurely. It often felt strange for lyla to walk.

Her body was still a glorified prototype, but Lyla loved it all the same. Finally to interact with her world, with Miguel. To cling to him, to finally connect with him in a tangible sense.

“Okay”

Miguel blinked, realizing how sterilized his answer had sounded.

“Yes of course, we can do that Lyla.”

Still awkward, but at least he sounded more enthusiastic. Lyla only smiled, her thick eyelashes clumping together behind her glasses.

“It will get me away from these screens anyway.”

Miguel chuckled, glancing at lyla as he took a step from the abstract orange inner workings of his technology.

“Just like how you've been asking me to do all day”

Sass seeped out of Miguel’s words, his hips swinging to the side as he fully turned away from his tech. A smug smile appeared on his face before he smoothly jumped off his platform. Looking back at lyla, waiting for her to follow.

Lyla’s glitching form cascaded down, jumping from place to place, before settling herself next to miguel.

“Margo, please see to it that all the channels are being monitored, Lyla and I have some matters to attend to”

Miguel spoke gently, yet confidently into his watch. His long legs allowing him to stride across his office with ease.

Lyla giggled, wondering if Miguel had noticed that he had used what lyla proclaimed as the “Miguel customer service voice”

Miguel turned his head to the source of the giggling, his eyes half lidded. While his mouth remained in a neutral line, his brows had remained unfurrowed.

He was sufficiently amused.

——————-

The doors to the “special lab” as Miguel liked to call it, opened with a woosh, closing right behind Lyla and her companion.

Despite its flaws, lylas body was beautiful.

Silicone casing that mimicked human skin so perfectly, near flawless wiring, and implanted synthetic hairs. Ignoring the seams, and the mechanical core of the body, she would look fully human.

The yellow cast of lylas body glitching around the room brought a small smile to Miguel’s face, slowly striding to follow Lylas excited glitches

Finally reaching the table her body rested upon, Miguel sat beside the husk, reaching to support the back of its head with his hand. Holding it gently, like a glass sculpture.

“Go on then”

Miguel encouraged motioning for lyla to connect with her physical form.

A bit surprised at her lack of hesitation, Miguel chuckled to himself when Lyla immediately began to synchronize with the husk, her holoform slowly fading away.

After a few moments, the machine wirled to life, the hydraulics began to generate noise as Miguel helped lyla slowly sit up. Still acclimating to her physical form.

Her body hummed with life, electric fields resonating inside of her.

Deeming Lyla able to properly sit up by herself, Miguel slowly got up, padding over to retrieve her coat from the hook it was hung upon. Acquiring an exact replica of Lyla’s fur coat had not been easy, Miguel had to scout multiple tailors before finding one who was willing to embed such an intricate design onto the soft, near fuzzy material of the coat.

Yet he didn't regret any of it. Miguel would do anything for his Lyla.

Miguel slipped the coat around lylas shoulders, taking extra care to make sure the garment wouldn't fall off. Fastening the lapels firmly around her chest.

Lylas giggles caught Miguel by surprise, rearing his head to the side to look at her. Yet Lyla, absolutely loss in a haze of giddiness, puzzled him slightly.

“Lyla?”

Miguel's inquisition was nearly cut off by Lylas exclamation.

“It tickles!”

Puzzled, Miguel looked down at his hands, unbenounced to him, he had begun to rub and massage the base of lylas neck. Subconsciously trying to sooth the AI, not realizing her sensory settings had still yet to be fully developed.

“Oh- sorry Lyla I didn't mean-”

“It’s fine”

Lylas interruption utterly perturbed miguel, such an adament statement with such a large smile on her face.

Miguel knew lyla, he knew her quirks and the way lylas eyebrows would knit when she was being serious.

But the expression on lylas face was far from serious. A wide, toothy grin was plastered on her face. Her glasses slightly crooked from lylas hyper giggling.

“Don't be sorry Miguel”

Lyla leaned into Miguel's frame, nuzzling her cheek into his wide chest.

“It feels nice… I like it when you tickle me”

Miguel's face burned a deep shade of red. Something about lylas casual confession embarrassed Miguel to his very core. Perhaps it provided an unwanted looking glass into his own desires.

Miguel shook away the thought with a series of blinks, noting to himself to never indulge in such a thought again.

Rather Miguel chose to focus on Lyla, the culprit of his newfound confusion. He watched as Lyla’s grin held steadfast, looking up at Miguel expectantly. As if Lyla had hoped her confession would be rewarded with more of the sensations she enjoyed so thoroughly.

Miguel only stared back at her, feeling more than compelled to provide her with all she desired.

He waited a Moment, averting his gaze. Unsheathed claws began to pick at one another before Miguel raised his wrist towards his chin.

“Unexpected obligations have come up, please excuse my absence.”

Miguel didn't think he could register a portal fast enough. The omni colored hues of the gateway illuminating both him and his Lyla.

————————-

His bedroom was dim, just how Miguel liked it. Lyla felt nearly weightless in his arms, despite the metals she was composed of.

Despite Miguel's ornate urge to playfully throw Lyla onto the large bed the two often slept together on, He simply laid Lyla down gently. Taking great care as to not jostle her too hard.

“Miguel you big softie”

Lyla smiled, wrapping her arms around Miguel's neck as he maneuvered himself to cage her between his muscular arms.

Miguel's eyes glowed an invigorating bright red, as he stared Lyla down, analyzing every little feature of hers before leaning down, and softly locking her lips with his own.

Miguel always felt some ornate guilt every time he indulged in moments like this with Lyla. He always felt as if he was taking advantage of her in some way, despite her protests and reassurance. Some part of Miguel was afraid that Lyla had some predisposed reason to love him. That she felt required to love him due to Miguel being her creator.

“Miguel, don't be an idiot.”

Lyla’s round eyes stared back up at his, her lips forming into a disapproving pout. She always knew what he was thinking. All these years together it was a bit impossible not to understand every little change of expression or falter in words.

“I like you, that shouldn't be wrong.”

Her pout morphed into something akin to a scowl, lylas brows furrowed as her eyes narrowed. Obviously she seemed to be frustrated with Miguel's constant self retribution.

Lips locked once more as Lyla leaned up, kissing the corner of Miguel’s mouth in quick, succeeding pecks.

Miguel leaned down, resting his forehead on his companion’s, breathing steadily. He would give up his disapproving thoughts for now, Miguel never enjoyed making Lyla unhappy.

“Did you still want me too uh…”

Miguel swallowed, his words no louder than a murmur.

“You know”

He closed his eyes in an attempt to avoid Lyla’s gaze, focusing on peppering kisses along her neck. Keeping his attention at the junction between her collarbone and jugular. Miguel hoped that keeping Lyla entertained in this way would deter her from prying about his sheepishness. Unfortunately Miguel’s efforts proved futile.

“I'm the one asking to be tickled, but you’re the one getting embarrassed”

Lyla chuckled, mostly due to the barrage of kissing but the humor of her current situation failed to escape her.

“That's pretty funny”

Her chuckle transitioned into bubbly giggling as Miguel’s fervent kissing began to contain more fangs than lips, as he began to gently nibble at the vulnerable skin on lylas neck.

Lyla eagerly craned her head to the side. She hoped that if Miguel gained access to more skin, he would continue his love bites with ease.

And so he did.

Passionate kisses and nibbles trailed up Lylas neck with no hesitation. Causing electric shocks to glide through her body and settle in her chest. Her giggling never faltered. Elated chirps of laughter filled the room as Miguel began to wander his hands up and down Lyla's sides.

Miguel relished in Lyla’s sweet laughter, lifting his head up from her neck in an attempt to see her smile. Lyla’s teeth were ever so crooked, and her nose crinkled in her mirth.

His admiration for lyla had overshadowed Miguel's self doubt, egging him on. Beckoning his fingers to wiggle and squeeze just a bit faster.

“Miguehehel!!”

Lyla squeaked, her hands smoothed down Miguel's back, clutching onto the excess fabric of his shirt. Completely lost in her joyful hysterics.

Her pink,heart-shaped glasses sat crooked on her face, jostled due to the cheery wiggling that Lyla seemed to be unable to contain.

Miguel felt a response was unneeded, he simply remained listening to Lyla's laughter. Wiggling his fingers into the backs of her ribs, or at least the welded steel that mimicked where her ribs would be.

“Miggy!”

Lylas use of his nickname caused Miguel to look up from his diligent work. Slowing his motions down slightly, in fear that he was pushing Lyla too far.

“Lyla?”

His inquiry was soft, barely heard over the residual giggling that was escaping Lyla’s lips.

“It tickles” lyla took in an unneeded breath “Tickles real bad”

Lylas smile never faltered, her brown eyes glistened behind her glasses. Looking up at Miguel, she slipped her arms down from miguels back, dragging her fingertips down Miguel's shoulders, finally holding his large biceps in both hands.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Miguel frowned, concerned about a possible short circuit due to the constant stimulation being provided to Lyla’s servers.

“Do you want to stop?”

Lyla’s smug smile taunted Miguel and his patience. He knew full well that lyla was only trying to get a reaction out of him. goading Miguel into really letting loose and devouring her like she desired..

He could see as lyla began to calculate the most plausible outcome of her teasing, hoping that she would receive the response that she so desired.

How could Miguel deny her such a thing?

With a sort of playful roughness, Miguel pressed Lyla into the bed with his own weight, nuzzling into her neck to nip and gnaw at her nape. He dragged his fangs across her jugular, letting out small snarls and growls as he did so.

Miguel didn't mind playing monster for her, for his Lyla. Whatever made her happy, made him happy. Not to mention the playfulness seemed to actively draw out dread from his heart, leaving him feeling lighter, happier.

Lyla’s gleeful giggles and squeals filled his mind as he snuck his taloned fingers under the hem of her top, dragging the pinpoints ever so gently on her pseudo-skin.

“Miguel! Oh god- it's so bahahad!”

Lyla was wriggling fully, the tickling and teasing seemed to cause her software to somewhat lose control of her bodily function. This only made Miguel chuckle fondly, retracting his claws to skitter up and down Lylas' bare stomach with his blunt nails.

“I'm glad to see your body is functioning better now”

Miguel observed with an utterly neutral tone, trying to tease Lyla even further, as if he wasn’t currently drawing a barrage of sweet giggles from the AI. It was interesting to see how functional she was, a mere 2 weeks ago and this interaction was most likely impossible.

“I think the- the software!”

Lyla cut herself off with a hearty round of giggles, accompanied by a couple snorts.

“The software update helped, I think!”

The sentence was very much rushed out, Lyla obviously trying to fight against the steady stream of laughter. She tilted her head back, subtly signaling to Miguel that she wanted him to nibble there once more. If Lyla wasn't Lyla, and Miguel wasn't Miguel, the signal may have not worked. But Lyla was so very pleased when it did.

Miguel lightly blew cold air on Lylas neck, chuckling when she flinched.

“Just making sure your sensors are working”

Lyla simply scoffed, it was easy to catch Miguel in such a silly lie. She knew exactly why he did it; to mess with her. Miguel could be such a pain sometimes, especially when he was feeling playful.

Fangs suddenly unsheathed as Miguel nipped and nibbled at the exposed skin below Lylas ear. His fingers continued their expedition, wiggling up and down Lylas torso. He even lingered around her hips, giving them a few rapid squeezes before climbing up to just below her underarms.

Her body tensed up at the constant changing of sensation. Her algorithm could hardly keep track of the stimulus changes detected by her sensors. The preoccupation caused the underlying mechanisms of her psyche to cloud. Leaving her mind in a blissful state of static. Just what she wanted. No having to track Miguel’s vitals, or categorize the many anomalies that still occasionally slipped through the metaphorical cracks of space and time.

Lyla loved Miguel, loved him as much as her pulsing wires and chips could manage. But she got tired, so many hours of watching, learning, teaching. She needed a break, and she was so grateful Miguel was here to give her one.

All she could think of was his kisses, and his fangs, oh his fangs. Lyla had grown to adore the sharp canines that Miguel possessed. How they so gently poked into her skin, how they peeked out of his lips in every smile, how the fangs would often catch on his lip, causing her to giggle and point out the accident as Miguel would flush and look away as he adjusted his lips.

Right now, Miguel was nibbling into her with utmost care. Dragging his teeth across her jugular as he growled out praise and horribly embarrassing observations about Lyla arching her stomach up towards him. Miguel was so warm, such a soft and comforting force emitting from such a stark and rigid man

His hand lay its palm flat on lylas stomach, flexing and relaxing his fingers in a steady pattern. Miguel's fingertips played with the silicone, feeling the incredibly smooth surface. Gently prodding and guiding his fingers along her softness, savoring how her body ebbed and flowed along with his perfectly.

Even when lyla arched her back, her stomach and hips seemed to connect perfectly with his torso. Two puzzle pieces perfectly intertwined.

“Should I.. no.. no that’s childish.”

Miguel cut himself off before his thought could be fully realized, shaking his head and continuing to wiggle his fingers gently into lylas middle.

“Whaha- what, what is it miguel?”

Lyla fought back her giggles for a moment, forcing out coherent words. Giddiness be damned, her desire to make Miguel express himself won all her mental battles.

Miguel flushed for a moment, his ears becoming hot. He looked away, changing focus to the neatly printed on freckles that sprinkled Lyla’s arms.

“Miguel, I’m waiting”

He bit back a growl, keeping himself from scribbling his talons wildly into her stomach. His fingers stilled and he lay his head onto Lyla’s shoulder. Positioning himself so that only his cheek made contact with her form. Laying on his side next to her, he let out a sigh.

“Do not laugh at me.”

“Wouldn't dream of it, Miguel.”

Despite her situation Lyla possessed a rather smug grin, finding joy in his awkward and self conscious mannerisms. She found it quite amusing how Miguel bore embarrassment for his theoretical next move, but none for the barrage of tickling he had just put the AI through.

Miguel swallowed, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them. Zeroing in on lylas exposed midsection. He lifted his hand and dangled his fingers about a half foot above her body.

“The.. uh the itsy-bitsy spider, crawled..”

Talons were unleashed, and his hand plunged ever so softly into the soft synthetic flesh right below Lyla’s belly button. Crawling his fingers ever so slowly up her torso, acting as if his hand was a spider itself.

Miguel's brows knit together as he fought the blush currently creeping up his neck. Scrunching his nose as he pushed through the shame.

“… up the water spout. Down came the rain and…”

Miguel grimaced, crawling his talons all the way up to the middle of Lyla’s ribs. Taking a moment to tweak a couple of the bones. Which earned sweet giggles from Lyla, which were already bubbling up due to Miguel’s both goofy and reluctant singing.

“Washed the… spider out- oh god. okay okay I’m sorry Lyla I just can’t .”

Miguel let out a dramatic sigh, burying his face into Lyla’s shoulder and letting out a defeated breath of air. Lyla burst into bright laughter, partly due to Miguel dragging his claws down her stomach, but mostly because of Miguel’s now shattered ego.

Miguel chuckled as he shook his head into lylas shoulder, the cringing feeling of shame rushing over him. It was an uncomfortable chuckle, a sort of laugh whose only purpose was to attempt to alleviate some of the tension accumulating onto his psyche.

Lyla smiled and adjusted her position, bringing her knees up and planting her feet flat on the mattress. Focusing on how Miguel’s tickling turned into gentle rubbing.

She sighed happily, focusing on how her sensors registered the palm of Miguel’s hand, repeating soft, circular motions on her stomach. Settling herself into her pillow, she wiggled against Miguel’s frame. Settling herself between his arms.

Miguel followed her lead wrapping his body around hers. Strong arms crossed over her chest and he tucked lylas head under his chin. Puzzle pieces fully pressed together. Making one perfect, beautiful shape.

He leaned his head down, nuzzling his nose into Lyla’s head before inhaling gently. She smelled soft. A sort of gentle, nearly bland smell. A slight hint of mild perfume, and the fresh scent of laundry. The calming smell began to release the tension between his shoulders. As Miguel’s body began to relax a soft purr began to rumble in his throat.

His body closed comfortably around his Lyla, clutching her like a stuffed toy. She was so perfect, so soft. So comforting. Lyla was Miguel’s perfect companion; she combated his worst and complemented his best.

They were two different people intrinsically intertwined. Fated to never be fully apart from each other. Both Miguel and Lyla held the other in their hearts, never to be discarded.

Miguel opened his mouth to speak, mumbling into the top of lylas head. His words were soft, lacking the edge they usually did when Miguel held the persona of the spider society's leader.

“I love you Lyla.”

He spoke gently, yet with confidence. Miguel's words were not a confession, rather an affirmation.

“I love you too Miguel.”

Lyla intertwined her fingers with Miguel’s, feeling the rough calluses that had formed where his talons would emerge. Such rough hands always treated her so gently, with utmost kindness and care.

The pair laid there, both taking the other in. Miguel nearly began to dose off, sleepless nights finally rearing their heads to nip at his conscience.

That was until his eyes shot awake with realization.

“I left Margo alone”

His words cut off as he unlatched himself from Lyla’s body, rolling off the bed and landing on his feet in quick succession.

“Alone to monitor all the channels.”

Lyla finished Miguel’s thought for him, scooting off the bed herself before she was able to touch the tips of her toes onto the floor.

Miguel stretched out an arm to Lyla, offering a stabilizing force to help the AI steady herself as she stood.

“Please excuse my uh, long absence. My obligations seemed to draw on longer than I had expected.”

Miguel took a short breath, changing the channel of his watch and speaking once more into the device. His voice much less authoritative in tone.

“Margo please take a break at your earliest convenience”

He paused before continuing, playing with his claws.

“Sorry for leaving you for so long, I’m back in the building already, so don’t worry.”

Miguel winced at his own awkward attempts to sound friendly, and the blatant lie he had told. Yet some of the shame was relieved when Margo responded to his message with a deadpan, albeit playful response.

“Back to work Miguel?”

Miguel flicked his wrist and opened another portal, the orange hues lighting up the cool tones of his bedroom.

“Back to work Lyla.”

The pair held hands as they stepped through the portal. Always together, fitting like matching puzzle pieces.

———————————

thank you everybody for taking the time to read my fic!! I know lyla and Miguel can be a bit of a rare pair but this ship is very near and dear to my heart. I hope that you enjoyed reading! If you have any suggestions for another fan fiction please leave me a message in my ask box!!

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Friends With Benefits Part 4/6

Summary - Reader and Ruben have been in a friends with benefits situation for over three years now, with Reader eventually looking for something more serious. But what does Ruben want?

Enjoy!

"So what's Joshua up to?" Your friend Tina asked, as the two of you stood folding the newest collection of sweaters.

"My boyfriend?" You blushed.

After months of recollection to get back on track with your life, you were determined to put your past behind you and focus on your career at Ralph Lauren. Your colleagues even noticed the change in you and with each passing day you found yourself becoming more dedicated and committed to your job. You were always the first to arrive and the last to leave. You poured all your energy into creating exquisite displays and styling customers, making sure they walked out of the store feeling confident and satisfied.

As your career soared, so did your love life. You met Joshua, a kind and charming man who appreciated your passion for fashion. You shared an instant connection, and you found yourself falling for him. Your relationship was filled with laughter, support, and encouragement, serving as a stark contrast to the toxic dynamic you had experienced with Ruben.

"He's actually in town, looking for an apartment to rent."

"He's not staying with you?"

You shook your head. "Not yet. But I don't think it will be long before he does."

"Wow, so you and Ruben are really over?"

"Yes." You were quick to answer, ignoring the sudden jolt of your heart.

"Good for you."

Tina left you with the pile of sweaters to deal with a new client that just entered the shop. All though she was right that you and Ruben were truly over, you didn't care to mention the many text messages he still sent you, and how you read them all but never replied.

Ruben: I miss you. Let's meet up and talk soon, okay?

Ruben: Y/N, is there anyway I can fix what happened between us?

Ruben: Y/N, you up?

The messages would flood in during all hours of the day. Your theory for this was that Ruben would have his moments of weakness and think of you at random. In reality he probably had plenty of other women lining up outside of his bedroom door.

"Y/N, a little help please?"

You had been daydreaming, folding sweaters mechanically, when Tina came back, looking flushed and in need of your assistance.

"What's going on?" You frowned.

"You'll see." She said and practically pulled you with her to the front of the shop. There he stood....

"Ruben?"

After having been on your mind seconds ago.

"Y/N! I thought that this was where you worked." He grinned, that familiar grin of his, that you've worked so hard to forget.

"What are you doing here?" You frowned.

Tina hit you in the arm.

You winced. "Ouch."

"He's a costumer, Y/N."

She gave you a stern look, indicating that you should be treating Ruben like any other costumer.

"Of course." You said,  bowing your head apologetically.

"I hope I didn't come in a bad time?" He said.

"Of course not." Tina waved, having already put on her best costumer service smile. You, on the other hand, struggled with that.

"What can we do for you today, Mr Dias?"

Ruben looked to you, flashing an amused smile. "I saw your new collection in the window." He said. "I thought, why not try it on?"

"All of it?" You spat.

Tina stepped in.

"Of course you can!"

Ruben smirked. "Great, how about we start with some of the plain whites?"

"Right this way Mr Dias."

Tina led him to the dressing rooms, snapping her fingers at you to prepare the mandatory tray of fruit that all costumers were offered during a fitting such as this one. Those kind of fitting usually lasted an hour though, with costumers trying on an outfit or two. If Ruben was going to try on a whole collection, how long would that take?

"Since when do you wear Ralph Lauren?"

It turned out to be a busy day at the shop. Tina left you to deal with Ruben as your costumer, since you "happened to know" all of his measurements already.

"Since when do you wear Saint Laurent perfume." He chuckled.

"Just answer my question Ruben, what are you doing here?"

"Shouldn't you be calling me Mr Dias?"

You rolled your eyes.

The two of you were confined to his dressing room, where you helped him roll up the sleeve to the shirt he was trying on.

"I came to see you of course?" He said,  tilting his head a little, meeting your eyes.

"Is that so?" You muttered, too busy with fitting him into his clothes.

"How have you been , Y/N? I've missed you."

"Ruben please." You sighed.

"What?"

How could he do this to you, showing up out of the blue?

"I haven't seen you for months and now suddenly here you are?"

"Here I am." He shrugged.

"I've been trying so hard to forget about you and now..."

"With trying, you mean...not succeeding?" He raised a brow.

You rolled your eyes.

"Y/N, I'm just fucking with you. I just happened to be in the neighborhood."

"Really?"

"Really." He nodded. "I've got an event in the evening and thought I might as well try on some outfits when I have someone who can give me their employee discount."

"Who, me?'

He shrugged.

You burst out laughing. "Ruben I'm not giving you no discount."

"Why not? Because I'm rich? I'm sure that counts as discrimination at this day and age."

You laughed again, throwing your head back. "Ruben, what do you know of any form of discrimination? At best I bet your mom didn't let you have dessert before eating your vegetables."

"Hey?" He frowned. "Don't talk about my Mamãe." He nudged your arm that held onto his sleeve.

"I'm sorry Ruben, but you have to admit, you're not the on to talk."

He muttered something inaudible under his breath.

Your hand left his sleeve and went to the buttons on his chest, his large pecs resting underneath the palm of your hands.

"Like this right, that's how you like it?"

You unhooked two of his buttons, avoiding eye contact at all cost.

"One more." He whispered.

You raised your head, a big mistake. You were now looking deeply into his eyes.

"One more should do it." Ruben winked.

You lowered your gaze, hiding you flushed expression, staring blankly into his chest.

"Y/N, I..."

"Ruben don't. "

His hands had gone rest on both sides of your waist a long time ago. You left them there because the rush that flooded your veins when they did felt so good, but also so wrong.

"Y/N, I..."

"I said, don't...say another word Ruben. Not a single word."

You were afraid that if he did, if he said something to win you back, you'd be too weak to resist him and jump into his arms right there and then.

"Okay, I won't say anything."

"You just did."

The pressure on your waist increased as Ruben moved his hands upwards, caressing your ribs.

"I just wanted you to know that I made a mistake and that I want you back."

You looked up, meeting his soft expression with a frown.

"I want us to try again Y/N, I want you to be my girlfriend."

"Um...what?"

He bent down, his large frame already towering over you. The kiss came as a surprise, but you quickly made yourself familiar with his lips. Soon Ruben had you pressed to the dressing room wall, a hand up your skirt. You were drowning in his kisses, deep and laced with a lustful wanting.

"Y/N, I think you should..."

Tina pulled the dressing room curtains and gasped. You and Ruben managed to pull away from each other, but not fast enough to avoid your colleague from seeing the explicit show that you had just put on.

"Tina, I can..."

She put up a hand, silencing you.

"But I..."

She shook her head, with an expression of terror. "Joshua is here."

"What!" Quickly, you wiped your lips and straightened your skirt.

"He says he brought you lunch." Her gaze shifted over your shoulder to where Ruben stood. "But I guess you're not so hungry anymore?"

"Who's here?" Ruben frowned.

"Fuck me." You sighed.

The universe seemed to revel in finding new ways to torment you. Just when you thought that you had your shit together. "There you are!"

Your eyes widened as you beheld your boyfriend Joshua's familiar form striding in. His humble gaze connected with yours, however, somthing shifted in his expression as you approached him with something, or should you say someone, walking closely behind you.

You turned, noticing Ruben. His gaze intensified, a mixture of curiosity and envy dancing within his piercing eyes.

"Joshua, what are you doing here?" You said.

"Lunch break?" He said holdingup a briwn paperbag. He approached you, planting a swift kiss upon your already plump lips.

"Oh, well I..."

You had been too busy dealing with Ruben all day that you had forgotten that you and Joshua were supposed to meet up for lunch.

"Are you busy with a costumer? Don't worry I'll wait."

"Oh...okay."

Ruben made his way over to the cash register, a predatory glint in his eyes. You weren't sure of which items he had decided to buy, since he had barely finished trying on the new collection.

"Joshua?" He chuckled, low enough so that only the two of you could hear

"Yes, he's my boyfriend." You muttured.

Ruben's eyes widened, a hint of a smile on his lips.

You scanned the clothes that he had brought forward, a sweater and two pairs of pantaloons.

"That'll be 699£." You said.

Ruben pulled out his wallet without saying a word, swiping his credit card, paying for his items.

"Your receipt?"

He looked down on your outstretched hand, offering him the piece of paper.

"Keep it." He winked.

Ruben left the store without acknowledging Joshua, without even throwing him a second glance.

"So..." Tina said, standing by, observing all of your drama unfold. "I guess you're going off to have lunch?"

You nodded, tossing Ruben's receipt in the trash. "I'll be back in an hour."

Tagslist:

@kathb59

@riyayaa

[chaoskirin]

Today, While I was in the middle of typing an email, Microsoft Outlook 365 popped up a window demanding feedback. And boy did I have shit to say.

I had to keep the swearing out, because apparently any report I make is duplicated and sent to the IT department. But the text I ended up sending follows:

---

God, I have so much to tell you. Thank you for giving me the opportunity. First: Stop messing with everything. Outlook works fine, but you keep changing things that don't need changing. Moving buttons around. Turning on features that I have explicitly turned off for not working before. Just today, you turned on the auto-suggestions again, which would be great if it actually worked. Instead, when it suggests anything you don't accept, it just mashes words together. Do you know how it feels to be typing a professional email and you miss one of those failures and send your email anyway? I mean, to be fair, I caught ten, so I still got a 90% on the ol' Microsoft-sanctioned-typo-factory. But the person I emailed doesn't see it that way, do they? They see that I mashed three words together like there was a wasp on the space bar.

Plus, my signature keeps getting deleted. Not just switched to nothing, but completely deleted. Which means I have to re-make that every time your developers get bored and decide to re-haul a program that absolutely never needs re-hauling. I remember once a couple months ago the attachment button just disappeared, and there was no way for me to attach a final bill. I had to actually use my personal gmail address to send an email to a customer because for about 16 hours, it was impossible to attach anything.

But, you say, I should have sent error reports. And I did. But the question in my mind always comes back to "why are you messing with something that does not need changing?" The only thing that ever happens is that you change aesthetics. Colors. This time the boxes are gone. Do you think you're at risk of losing customers? Do you think you have to keep things new and fresh? No. People are shackled to you. You have a quasi-monopoly and a stranglehold on a whole lot of workflows. People cannot leave you. In the world of word processing and spreadsheets, you are Alcatraz. You don't have to change things to keep people here.

Instead, long-time bugs continue to plague everything I do within this hell-suite of software. Sometimes when I try to start typing in the body of the email, outlook decides that, no, I don't want to type an email! I want to send the other emails in my inbox to the archive, where, if I don't notice this, they will sit and fester forever. There's also the bug where I create an email and it duplicates it and puts it in my drafts. Or the bug where it just creates a blank email and puts it in my drafts. Do you want to know how many blank emails I've deleted from my drafts folder? There are not enough numbers in existence to count this.

If you REALLY want to know how to improve Outlook and this message isn't just going into the wilderness like all those notebooks from the hit-TV-show-where-nobody-liked-the-ending, LOST, then please. Listen. From the bottom of my heart and from the top of my lungs: Stop changing everything. Nothing needs changing. Just run a good service. Get your programmers onto fixing longstanding bugs instead of trying to make an email and scheduling program look like a fashion show in Paris.

And if I seem a little ticked off in this message, it's because your request for feedback popped up in the middle of me compiling an email, which was just about halfway done. Outlook, in all its wisdom, decided that I didn't actually need that email and went ahead and deleted all the text in it. All of it. So after I finish giving you an earful, I'm going to have to retype it.

Hope this helps. Have a wonderful day.

[cielcreations]

Lifeless Platter - Ending 5: Made With Love

Very similar to my original Made With Love book, but this time with roles reversed!

Trigger Warning: Cannibalism at the very end.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 [ You Are Here ]

"Oh, hey, you actually showed up for training!" The redheaded chef smiled brightly, "Quite early, too!"

"If you're not five minutes early, you're late." The raven haired man replied, voice deep and gruff.

The redhead chuckled, putting his hands on his hips, "Well, that's good to hear, it means you're serious! This is a highly sought after position and you're already off to a good start, Vincent! However, I noticed your resume, you didn't have many customer service jobs, so I hope you don't mind if I help you out a bit and teach you how to do this." The man then hummed, "Though, forgive me if this comes off as rude, I'm just confused why you would go from a high paying job you've had for years to a mere server?"

"Must I answer or can we just move on, Chef Lamoree?" The raven narrowed his eyes.

"Ah, just call me Rody, no need for formalities!" The redhead chuckled, ignoring the hostility, "Like I said, I'm just confused, but I won't push!" He smiled, "Well, with serving, it's pretty easy! All you have to do is seat customers, take their orders, and bring food to them! When seating people, keep in mind how many people are dining. You don't want a large group crowding around one area. Once they put their menus down, that's when you should go check on them!"

Vincent grabbed a menu and opened it, "'What we're serving today?'" He read aloud.

"Yes! Customers don't pick what they eat, we have a menu that changes daily! It did say that in the interview."

"Well, yes, I read that. Just wondering about it."

The redhead chuckled, "Well, once you've taken their order, bring it to the marker between the window and the door. That way, it'll be sent to the kitchen. The cooks will start working on whatever order you have right away, but keep in mind they prioritize cooking the dessert, side, meal, and appetizer. In that order." Rody then got serious, narrowing his eyes a bit, "Do not pester or distract any of the cooks if it's taking too long. Perfection is key and if you're pestering them, it won't be perfect."

"Understood."

"Good." Rody smiled once more, "Once the order is ready, you'll find it at the window to then serve to the customers. They'll ask for more after their appetizer, so don't make them wait too long. Once they're ready for the bill, go behind the counter to check them out. Once they're done with their meal, make sure to clean their table too, okay? I don't want guests thinking we leave messes out in the open! The garbage is in the kitchen, right next to the back door. When it's full, take the trash and bring it out to the alley behind the kitchen to throw it out."

"Understood." Vincent repeated.

"Make sure to study the menu, too! What I just told you are the basics to any serving job, but you need to be able to know what we are offering. If you're stuttering or confused, it'll make us look bad and I don't want our customers thinking we're anything less than professional."

"If anything, your demeanor screams unprofessional..." The raven muttered more to himself.

"It's hospitable, which is professional!" Rody argued, smiling brightly.

Hardly. Vincent thought.

"Well, I'll be in the back, helping the chefs and such. If you need me, just come on back! Good luck!"

With Rody in the back, Vincent began to clean off the tables, officially starting his shift. He made sure to seat the customers, smiling softly (though, it was a bit difficult and forced, but the customers didn't seem to care) as he took their order before handing it off to the chefs. He cleaned and bused the tables, making sure to take out the trash when needed. He focused on his job, making sure to never make a mistake.

By the end of the day, the restaurant was probably cleaner now then when Vincent first started the day.

"Ah, Vince!"

The raven turned around, raising an eyebrow, "'Vince?'"

"Ah, sorry, did I say that? I hope you don't mind the nickname!" Rody smiled, offering a plate, "Anyways, I have some Green Onion Rolls!"

"...What about them?" Vincent responded.

The chef laughed, "Take them! I need to make sure my staff is well taken care of so, please, the food is yours!"

"Oh, truly?" The raven asked, eyes widening, "Well, thank you. Do we have a to-go box that I may use?"

Rody looked around. He grabbed an empty box and slid the plate inside, "Not a to-go box, but it'll have to do."

"Thank you again, Chef Lamoree."

"Please, Rody is just fine!"

Vincent took the box and left back to his apartment. His phone started ringing, making him groan. Stop calling me. He thought, knowing exactly who it was. He went to the bathroom and got himself ready for bed, changing into pajamas and sitting down on the couch. When he finally was relaxed, he opened the to-go box and smelled the onion rolls. They smelled good...

He took a bite of one and widened his eyes.

These are fantastic! He thought to himself, I'll have to thank Chef Lamoree once again. 

He ate them all and went to bed.

***

"M-My apologies for being late!"

"You're sorry?!" Rody huffed, turning around, hand on his hips as he looked up from his papers, "An apology isn't going to cut it when you're late and it's only your second day-" He paused, eyes widening as he finally faced Vincent, "-Why do you look like that?"

"I was hoping to wait until the rain stopped before I biked here, but it didn't seem to be relenting anytime soon." Vincent explained, standing on the porch and squeezing the water out of his shirt, "I truly am sorry for being late, I know it's unprofessional-"

"It's alright." Rody reassured, gently taking his wrist, pulling the other to his office. He offered a chair, "Here, sit."

Vincent did so.

The chef then took out two towels, wrapping one around Vincent's shoulders before using a smaller towel to begin to dry off his hair, "Here, let's get you dry before we have to open."

Vincent nodded, hugging the towel more around his body as the redhead continued to dry off his hair.

"Do you have an umbrella?"

"No, I do not."

"I see." Rody's voice lowered, almost sadly, "Well, then, I'll give you mine for the ride back! Just try not to let this happen again, okay?"

"Thank you for the offer, but I can't possibly use your umbrella."

"And why not?"

Vincent looked up at the chef, "How will you be getting home without it?"

Rody laughed, "I live here!"

"...I'm sorry?"

"My apartment is upstairs!" Rody gently pushed his head down, continuing to dry it, "There's no need for me to have it, at least not now."

"I... see. Well, I suppose that makes more sense."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, it's nothing." Vincent looked up at the other once more, "Is that not worrying, however? If something were to happen to the building, it'll all be gone."

The redhead chuckled, gently poking the other's nose, "Aw, cute, you're worried about me!"

"T-That's not-" The raven blushed, looking away.

Rody chuckled, drying off the last little drops, "I only tease, Vincent! Now, freshen up a bit and get ready for a nice day at work!" He cooed in his ear.

Vincent blushed more, "T-Thank you."

"Of course! It's nothing! Not only do I not want customers to see that, but you could catch a cold!"

"S-Still, thank you."

The raven folded the towels and placed them on the redhead's desk. They walked out of the office and Vincent readied himself for work before seating the first people who walked in. Once he seated the people, he smiled and took their orders, served them, cleaned the tables, checked people out, balancing it out pretty easily. Eventually, when everyone had left, he took out the trash, throwing it away in the back alley before coming back inside. He saw Rody, staring at the chefs, leaning against the wall, face blank.

"Chef Lamoree, may I ask you something?"

"'Rody.'" The redhead jokingly corrected, "Can you say it with me? 'Ro-dy!'"

Vincent sighed, "Right, uh, Rody, may I ask you something?"

"If you have the free time, I don't mind. Just don't let the customers go unnoticed!"

"Of course not. If I may, why do you stand here?"

"My job is to observe and monitor the chefs." Rody explained, smiling, "They are to cook my dishes to absolute perfection! If they are to even slightly stray from the way I cook, then I will jump in there!"

"Then it's no wonder why your food is so good."

Rody looked at the other, tilting his head.

"Your food was delicious. I've never tasted something so good." The raven explained, "It filled me and made me crave more. It's no wonder you're a truly amazing chef, you food made me feel warm."

Rody's face dusted a light pink and he smiled brightly, "I'm so happy to hear that!"

Vincent nodded and left the kitchen, getting back to work. He continued to seat people and take their orders, cleaning up after them and checking them out. After another few hours, his shift ended. He finished cleaning what he needed to and got ready to leave.

"Oh, Vince, wait!" The raven turned. Rody walked offering, offering his umbrella as well as a small box with a smile, "Inside is Blueberry Crepes! You said you liked my food and so I made sure to save you some!"

"...Thank you, Ch- Rody." Vince took the items, the redhead giggling.

With the chef's umbrella and food in his hand, Vincent went home. Once he got back to his apartment, he once again got himself ready for bed. He ignored the loud phone as he opened his to-go box. He took a bite of the crepe and it practically melted in his mouth, making him sigh contently. Rody is such an amazing chef. And quite considerate. He thought as he continued eating. Once he finished, he threw the box in the garbage before laying on the couch, falling asleep once more.

***

The shift started out normal. Vincent seated who needed to be seated, took the orders to the kitchen, served the food, checked them out, and bussed tables. He was beginning to make very decent tips and was extremely upbeat and happy with his progress. Eventually the trash got full and he had to take it out-

"Ow!" Vincent exclaimed, looking at his hand as he dropped the bag, "S-Shit-"

"Vincent."

The raven turned, facing Rody, who stared at him. Seeing the other so stoic, he turned nervous, "I- It- I-I apologize, there was something in the trash!" He looked at his hand, "I-I believe it ripped the bag open when I dropped it!"

"Vince." The chef repeated, taking a step forward.

Blood spilled from his palm, a large cut on it, "I-I- It cut me! I didn't throw anything I wasn't suppose to, I don't think!

"Vince." Rody gently tapped his face, the raven stopping, The redhead looked at him, concern plastered on his face, "You don't need to worry about that, let me see." He hummed, spreading the other's fingers, Vincent wincing as the redhead assessed the situation, "Hm, a shallow cut, nothing too serious."

"I-I apologize, I'll clean-"

"Don't worry about that. Someone else will clean it." Rody face sharply turned, two immediately jumping to follow his directions. The redhead turned back and smiled at Vincent, "Let's get this cleaned up! We can't have you serving people like this."

He gently took Vincent to his office, setting the other in a chair. He carefully applied ointment to the raven's hand before gently wrapping it, Vincent watching Rody's delicate work.

"I-I really do apologize-"

"Accidents happen, it's fine."

"I understand if you wish to reprimand-"

"Was it intentional?"

"No, of course not-"

"Then there's no need." The chef reassured as he finished, "Is that why you got a bit nervous?"

Vincent was silent.

"I see." Rody smiled, "Why don't you stay here for a bit and collect yourself?"

"I-I can-"

"Vincent, I'm not asking." Rody interrupted, gently holding his shoulder, "You are a little shaken up, which is fine. Take your time calming down, I will handle the customers in the meantime."

"I-" Vincent bit his bottom lip, looking down, "T-Thank you..."

Rody smiled and stood up, leaving as Vincent sat, calming himself. He took deep breaths and, once he felt he had calmed down enough, he left. He went onto the floor, where Rody was finishing taking someone's order. The woman giggled and smiled flirtatiously at the redhead, who merely smiled back. Once he finished, he walked back to give the order to the kitchen, his smile immediately falling.

"I can take over." Vincent offered.

The chef sighed in relief, smiling at the other, "Good, you're feeling better! I'm terrible with customers!"

"Really? You seemed to be doing well."

"Customers annoy me." Rody answered honestly, before giving one last smile, "Be careful, okay? If your hand starts to hurt, I can step in again, okay?"

Vincent nodded as the other disappeared into the kitchen once more. Vincent finished his shift and cleaned everything up. Once he was sure everything was ready for tomorrow, he went into the kitchen to bid his goodbyes. Rody gave the raven a plate of Squid Ink Pasta with Shrimp, the raven thanking him. He then went home, got ready for bed, and laid on his couch. His phone began ringing and he merely stared at it as he began eating.

"Perhaps I should get Rody something in order to thank him properly..." The raven thought aloud.

With every passing second, he grew more and more annoyed, he couldn't help but wonder what made her want to call him so bad. When it finally stopped, he sighed in relief. Thank you. He thought, happy with the silence, falling asleep.

***

"Who the HELL do you think you are?!"

Vincent jumped, unsure what he was walking in on. He was working his shift and was bringing in some dirty dishes and to take out the trash when he saw Rody, standing in front of the cook, glaring down with such hate and malice, a stark contrast to his playful, bubby personality.

"I-I apologize, Chef-"

"A 'sorry' isn't going to fucking cut it, now will it?" Rody hissed, accenting his words.

Vincent shut the door behind him, not wanting customers to hear as he watched the scene.

"Is your brain too small to realize a dish like that is not at all acceptable in my kitchen?!" Rody grabbed the plate, slamming it into the other's chef, smearing it on their coat.

"N-No, Chef-"

"Then why is it even here?!"

"I-I don't know, Chef, I m-must've-"

"'You don't know?!'" Rody repeated, his voice raising, "You 'don't know?!' How is it that you don't know?!"

"I-It must've slipped my mind, Chef!" The cook managed to squeak out, "S-Some flour had been left near the stove and I-I didn't want to get burned-"

"You didn't want to get burned?" Rody mocked, "Oh, well that just makes it aaaaaall better~!" He cackled. He grabbed the man's hands and put it behind his back. One of the Chef's hand held the cook's arms in place as the other grabbed the man by the back of his hair. He then shoved the man's face towards the burned stove, keeping it just out of reach of the flames.

The man squeaked, Vince gasped.

"NOT." Rody growled, snickering darkly, "Don't talk back to me in my own fucking kitchen, you damn pig! If you plan on being a semi-decent cook, you can walk your shrimpy legs right~ on~ out~ of~ here~! There is no conceivable reason to be scared of something as minor as a stove. If you're stupid enough to get burnt, then that is your fault and, as long as you are in my kitchen, you. Will. Keep. Cooking."

The chef gulped, whispering out, "Y-Yes, Chef."

"I can't hear you~!" The redhead sung.

"Y-YES, CHEF!" The cook yelled.

Rody hummed, seemingly satisfied. He lifted the man up and smiled, letting go, "Well then, back to it~!"

He turned and his green eyes met Vincent's onyx ones, the raven staring with awe. Rody stared back for a second then winked teasingly, moving to go stand by the wall once more. The raven blushed and shook his head, putting the dirty dishes away and taking the trash out. When he came back, he walked over to Rody, who was back to smiling.

"Hello, Vince, fancy seeing you here! If you're going to criticize how I run my kitchen, you can leave."

"Are you single?"

Rody's face turned a bright red as he looked down at Vincent. He then smirked, "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious if that is how you treat your partner."

"Heeeeey~!" The redhead laughed.

"I'm only teasing." Vincent chuckled a bit, "I ask because I wish to know a bit more about you. You do own a restaurant, so you must be quite popular among women, hm?"

"And men." The redhead said confidently, again winking.

The raven blushed, looking away, "Well, do you plan to settle down with anyone? Perhaps get married, hire a manager to run the place?"

"This is me settling down. I do this for myself!" The redhead smiled.

"You have yet to answer my question."

"Hm?"

"Are you single?"

"...Yes, I am." The redhead shrugged, "I swing both ways, so not sure if I'd want a wife or a husband. Kids are a maybe as well. What about you?"

"Pardon?"

"Wife? Husband? Kids?"

"...I'd want a husband."

"Kids?"

"With the right person, perhaps. Haven't found the right person yet." Vincent smiled slyly, "Perhaps you're the right person?"

Rody's face turned beet red but before he could respond, Vincent quickly moved to get back to work. He finished his shift and went to the kitchen. Rody had a proper to-go box ready for him, the Chef giving it to him and turning away, face still a bright shade of red. Vincent smirked, proud he was able to get the redhead flustered for once instead of the other way around. He thanked Rody and left. He got home and opened the to-go box.

Strawberry Shortcake.

The raven happily ate the food before turning on the TV. He then grabbed a magazine that was dropped off with the daily newspaper. He browsed through it and looked at all the ads before he widened his eyes. Oh, that's it! That's what I need! He thought. Rody shut the TV off, grabbed a marker, and circled it before laying down on the couch.

He looked at the phone as it rang before falling asleep.

***

The next two days were uneventful in terms of work. Vincent and Rody continued to talk between shifts when they could, the redhead smiling, his playful and friendly nature never wavering. Vincent truly did relax around the redhead, feeling butterflies in his stomach whenever he was around the other. His posture and stiffness went away so naturally. Only one person was able to do that and he... well, he was so scared of being "found out" while Rody was so open. It made him happy knowing he could just be himself and not have to hide it, not have to feel like he was doing something wrong. Rody sent vince home with a Croque Madame and Lemon Tart, in which Vincent ate both and praised the redhead for the next days. 

However, today, Vincent went to the kitchen and Rody wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere, as when the raven knocked on his office door, he got no response. Vincent sighed. Granted, he wasn't owed any food, but he did appreciate the food and he did want it, simply because he loved Rody's cooking.

No matter, he went home, got changed, and began to think of what to order offline. However, the phone started to ring. He ignored it, knowing once there was no answer, it would stop. The ringing stopped and Vincent was just about to get ready for bed when the phone rung again.

For the love of- Vincent snatched the phone and put it to his ear, growling, "Listen, Miss, I am not-"

"Miss? I don't think I'm a Miss!"

"A-Ah, R-Rody! I-I apologize!" The raven blushed in embarrassment, "F-Forgive me, how can I help you?"

"Well, are you free tonight?"

"Pardon?" The raven blushed more.

"I'm hosting a dinner party at my apartment and was checking if you're available!"

Oh, that- "Yes, I am."

"Perfect! I'll see you soon!" Vincent went to hang up, but the redhead spoke again, "Hey, um..."

"Yes?"

"..."

"Rody?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? For what?"

"I-I disappeared before you came into the kitchen and I wasn't able to give you a plate of food."

He... actually remembered? Vincent smiled slightly, "It's fine, Rody, I don't-"

"I do mind. I really... I like cooking for you, okay?"

"Well... I like eating your food."

"Great, because you'll have plenty of it!"

The redhead hung up and Vincent blinked. He rolled his eyes with a chuckle and got dressed in more casual clothes. He went back to the restaurant and Rody was waiting outside for him. The redhead led the way up to his apartment, the raven looking around. It was a bit of a mess, but the redhead was definitely a minimalist. He had a nice green couch with a coffee table, sitting in front of a large TV, a kitchen with a long counter and some highchairs, a rug on the floor, and a few small shelves with his books, some plants, and his trophies.

"Very... cozy..." Vincent muttered.

"Of course! I go for cozy homey vibe!" Rody smiled.

"...I thought you said this was a dinner party. Where are the other guests?"

"They will arrive shortly. I, well..." The redhead took Vincent's hand, kissing his palm with a wink, "Wanted you to myself for a bit."

Vincent blushed and looked away. Rody sat him down on the couch before leaving to grab some plates.

When the Chef returned, he was balancing three plates; a plate of escargots, a cheese plater, and deviled eggs. Vincent smiled a bit and happily took a couple of eggs and a bit of cheese, humming contently as he ate. Rody smiled brightly he watched other.

"Your food is phenomenal. I wish I could eat it forever." Vince said.

"That makes me so happy!"

Before they could continue, the doorbell rang. Rody groaned before he stood up, going to the door. He allowed the people in, Vincent watching as the people came in. He stood up, the people coming in and beginning to mingle. The raven, feeling nervous and out of place, moved to stand in the corner as Rody left to get some wine and champagne for everyone. The raven stood to the corner, looking over the rewards Rody had gotten.

"Is that-? Hey Vincent!"

The raven turned, confused as a brunette approached him.

"I thought so, it is you! It's me, Antonie from Mr. Vacher's office!"

Vincent went stiff, his blood turning ice cold, "I... I see."

"I stopped seeing you and Gabriel, whatever happened to you? You were, like, the best writer there!"

Vincent clenched his fists, "It's, uh, private."

"You know, I heard Manon Vacher? Mr. Vacher's daughter? She was spreading some nasty rumors about you." The brunette hummed, "Is that why you left? I'm sure if you-"

"I have to use the restroom." Vincent hissed out, quickly pushing past him.

"Ah, wait, Vincent-"

The raven pushed passed the man, going into the kitchen. He went into the kitchen and then into the connecting hallway, walking down it. He pushed the door open and walked inside, closing it behind him. He leaned his back against it, sighing and shaking a bit. Vincent took a deep breath and looked up before gasping.

"O-Oh, this is not- wait..." Vincent blinked, staring at the scene in front of him, "...This is Rody's room... I wonder if I can find anything of interest." He hummed.

The raven looked around the room. At the back corner, there was a desk with some paperwork. It looked like it was for the restaurant, but the handwriting was barely eligible. He hummed before he looked at the typewriter, seeing Rody must've been typing out recipes. The shelf beside the desk was filled with books and the Chef's diploma was resting on the top. He walked towards the bedside table, opening the drawer.

A key? Oh, the freezer key! He thought, putting it in his pocket. He closed the drawer and turned towards the window.

"Looking for anything specific~?"

The raven turned around quickly, jumping, "A-Ah, Rody, you scared me!"

"You didn't answer my question."

"I-I, well, I was looking for the bathroom." Vincent shrugged, looking away, awkwardly."

"Mhmmm?" Rody teased as he stepped forward, the raven stepping back, "And, if I may, when you realized this wasn't the bathroom, you decided not to leave?"

"Well..." The raven trailed off as his back leaned against the window, "Would you believe me if I said I have short term memory loss?"

"Not a chance." The Chef laughed, putting one hand beside the raven's head, effectively trapping him.

"What about if I said I simply wanted to get to know you better?" The raven blushed as he looked up at the other, "On a more... personal level?"

"How personal are we getting?" Rody teased, leaning forward to kiss at the raven's neck, hands going to his hips.

Vincent wrapped his arms around Rody's shoulders, leaning into him as he grinded against his legs, "Depends on how personal you want it."

"Oh, I want it more than you know~" Rody began to suck marks into Vincent's neck, his leg going between Vincent's.

The raven moaned, leaning into him and grinding against his legs. Rody kept kissing at his neck and ear, the raven throwing his head back, eyes half lidded and-

He pushed the redhead back.

"What? Is something wrong? Did I-"

"Someone's out there." Vincent said, looking out the window, shaking a bit.

Rody looked and narrowed his eyes. He sighed and looked at the raven, who seemed a bit nervous, uncomfortable. He smiled, "Why don't you go home?"

"Well, I- w-wait, what about the party?" Vincent turned to face the redhead.

"It's over, it was more for marketing and such. You just made it more bearable." Rody gently poked his nose before offering his hand, "Come on, I'll walk you out."

The two left to the front door of the restaurant, Vincent turning around to face Rody. He went to say something, but the redhead caught his chin and pulled him in for a sweet kiss, the raven kissing back immediately, fireworks going off in his head. When they pulled away, the redhead smiled at him.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself." Rody winked.

"I see." Vincent teased, "Well, I guess I'll have to get back at you tomorrow then."

"I guess so. Have a good night, Vince."

"Goodnight, Rody."

***

Vincent came into work the next day, face a little pink, on cloud nine, butterflies in his stomach and chest. He set up the tables and cleaned what he needed to before going to the kitchen. He didn't see Rody anywhere, which was odd. He went to the office door and knocked, only to get no response. The door was locked but, seemingly, no one was inside. I need to return the freezer key. Vincent thought. He looked around and wondered how the chef's were going to cook if the freezer was locked. No one was in yet, so, he decided to unlock the freezer.

Curiosity got the better of him. He began looking around, seeing blood. It wasn't too abnormal, it was probably from the animal meat. As he glanced around, he saw something sparkle. 

Vincent turned his head to the meet grinder. He blinked, walking towards it and picking up a golden locket. He began to shake as he opened it, eyes widening as he saw the picture inside.

Him.

Him and him.

Him and Gabriel.

"What...?"

THUNK!

***

Vincent's eyes fluttered opened for a second, confused. He was bound in ropes, laying on the freezer floor. He blinked and looked around, not bothering to struggle. His lip quivered as he curled into a ball. The door opened and he looked towards it. He managed to sit up, glaring at the Chef.

"Get away from me, don't come any closer-"

"Shhhhh, shhhh, stop, stooooop~" Rody cooed as he stepped forward, heels echoing with the buzz of the freezer. He carefully, delicately, cleaned off a knife, "Just calm down, Vince, you don't need to do that!"

"Was it all a lie?"

The Chef widened his eyes, staring down at the raven.

"The flirting we did? I-I actually thought you liked m-me? W-Was it just me?" Tears began to fall down the raven's face, despite how hard he tried to hold them back, "Y-You played me! I-If you were just going to kill me for G-Gabriel, why didn't you just do it?!"

"What are you talking about, Vince?!" Rody yelled, swinging his knife down, "First off, that idiot is not my type! Second off, I killed him to get to you!" The redhead knelt down, the sharp tip of his knife teasing at Vincent's throat, "Had to kill Manon too, she was so obsessed with you, it pissed me off!"

"So... the locket...?"

"I forgot to throw it away after I killed him, duh. I wanted you not him, and he was in the way."

"So... the blood? The meat?"

"I made on dish from him and planning to make a dish from Manon-"

"May I try it?"

Rody widened his eyes, staring down at Vincent. The raven stared up at him, his onyx eyes wide in wonder and awe.

"Is it done, Rody? May I try it?"

Rody stared at him, lowering his knife, "You... want to taste it?"

"Of course!" The raven nodded, leaning into the other's neck, nuzzling into him, "It's your food! You're gonna cook them so well! I-Is it going to be smoked? Grilled? Boiled? What sides are you going to serve with them? Are you going to serve all of them? Please, Rody, you have to tell me, now!"

The redhead cupped Vincent's cheeks pulling him back so they could stare into each other's eyes, Rody smirking devilishly, "Are you that desperate to ear them?"

"It's not the fact that it's made from Gabriel or Manon, it's the fact it's from you!" Vincent leaned more into the chef's hand, smile manic, "It's your food! I don't care what you cook for me! I'd eat whatever you give me, even if it's made from pigs' brains!"

"I would never serve you that-"

"The point is-" Vincent interrupted, leaning forward, brushing their noses against one another, "-I will eat anything you make me. I want it. So bad. Your cooking makes me feel so warm. It makes me feel so good. I want it so bad, I need it. I need your cooking more than I need to breathe, please-"

Rody shut the other up with a kiss. Vincent moaned into it, kissing back as the Chef cut the ropes around him. The raven wrapped his arms around Rody's neck, moving to sit in his lap as he deepened the kiss. Rody held Vincent's hips as they pulled away, the raven smiling brightly down at the chef.

"How are you going to cook them?" Vincent asked, "Tell me please?"

Rody giggled, poking his nose, "It's a surprise~!"

***

Vincent sat on the bed, legs crossed as he hummed a tune to himself. He waited patiently (okay, not patiently, but he still waited!), barely able to control his excitement. The doorknob twisted and he smiled as the Chef walked in, a plate in his hand.

"Is it done?"

"I wouldn't have brought it up if it wasn't~" Rody teased, chuckling at the raven's excitement. He offered the plate, "Sorry for the wait, my dear! Dinner is served, Coal-Fired Heart!"

Vincent accepted the plate with a smile. He took his knife and fork and cut into the meat. Once he had a small piece, he put it on his tongue, chewing slowly, savoring the food.

"Well?" Rody cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb across it.

Vincent smiled brightly, genuinely, lovingly, "Amazing as always, Rody."

Rody smiled, "I will cook for you for the rest of our days." He kissed Vincent's forehead.

"I'm holding you to that." Vincent hummed, taking another bite.

[welcome-to-maniac]

HyunLix – Free Fall

tw for; attempted murder, yelling, falling from height, severe injury

“I’m gonna kill you.”

Hyunjin grins, turns to Felix as he lays in the younger man’s bed and watches as Felix paces back and forth. He’s not afraid of the threats Felix throws his way – not when Felix makes no move to carry out the threats he so often deals out. Felix is just as much wrapped up with Hyunjin as the bartender is with him, and they both know it. Sunshine’s burning a little hotter today, he thinks, humming as he sits up and pictures himself running his hand through Felix’s blue hair.

His Sunshine. His Yongbok. Pretty little monster.

“You say that a lot Bbokkie~ when are you gonna put your money where your mouth is, hmm?” He taunts, swinging his legs over the edge of Felix’s king size. “You’re giving me blue balls just waiting for you to do something, pretty little—”

“Shut the fuck up Hyunjin!” Fire burns in Felix’s glare as he grabs the brunet by the neck, and Hyunjin? He can’t lie, it’s only a little intimidating. Just a little. Felix’s voice is deep, deceptively so, and his volume raises the more he screams his frustrations out.

“Bringing up his dead boyfriend?! You’re an actual fucking cunt – are you trying to ruin the one good thing we have? Have your fucking outburst, be a toxic asshole, I don’t care! Just don’t go around spouting shit that gets both our toxic asses dumped!”

Felix’s tirade goes on: every grievance he’s kept buried inside spilling forward like magma, voice getting louder and louder by the second until Hyunjin is silently grateful that they’re currently the only people inside the apartment. Apart from Minho’s cats, of course, but they’ve seen and heard worse. Neither man notice when Felix goes from holding Hyunjin’s collar to slowly strangling the man, not until Hyunjin’s rasping for breath, panic seeping into his eyes as his mouth opens and no sound comes out.

Felix drops his hands.

Hyunjin splutters, coughing. He smiles.

“So close…you could’ve finished the job Yongbokkie~”

“Get. Out.”

Working at the bar does nothing to tame Felix’s anger, blood boiling under the skin as he goes through the motions of making order after order for paying customers. His body moves on autopilot while his mind tortures him with images of the past few days.

The marks on his neck. Hyunjin’s smug expression. Ace’s heartbroken frown. He just keeps excusing it. It’s just Hyunjin. Hyunjin gets like this. It’s nothing, I swear.

He’s tired of excusing it.

Felix knows the other six are worried. Worried about Felix’s mental state, about the lingering air of threats to Hyunjin’s life. He wants to shrug it all off, tell Minho to stop looking at him with those suspiciously concerned eyes every time Felix stares holes into the back of Hyunjin’s head at the end of service. To tell Chan he can stop trying to calm him down, because there’s nothing he needs to calm down from. He doesn’t want the others to worry about him. He doesn’t need the others to be worried about him.

He’s fine. It will all be fine. All he needs to do is get rid of Hyunjin.

His phone buzzes after he sends a text to Dionysus, silently glad that Hyunjin so eagerly gave the god of wine his number when they met, reading the reply, and scoffing. Dionysus was clueless, they were all clueless. Of course, Felix tries to hammer his point home, telling Dionysus that the deity has no idea what Hyunjin put him through, has no idea about the night terrors Felix has almost daily of the moment he nearly lost his life.

At least Hyunjin’s boyfriend knows to expect a funeral.

Felix considers texting his boyfriend during his break, sipping an energy drink he blindly took out of the fridge that’s already gone flat, before sending the texts and shutting his phone off. That’s enough reaching out to people – anymore and the chef knows there’ll be more than enough evidence if somehow the police find out. He doesn’t feel like checking what Ace sent back in reply; the cupid hates his guts and Felix?

Felix does too.

Though, Felix’s curiosity eventually does get the better of him at the end of service, the last of Maniac’s patrons leaving in a much more cheerful mood than the Australian as he sits by the bar counter. He switches his phone back on, swiping through social media notifications until he finds the notification from Ace. The preview message isn’t looking good, and opening the message doesn’t do him any favours either.

Text from Ace.

♥️: don’t call me love

♥️: and don’t say you love me when you clearly don’t

♥️: after your little apology I’m actually more mad with you

♥️: I also don’t fucking believe you anymore

♥️: I’m tired of Hyunjin my ass

♥️: go have fun with him forget about me

The anger’s burning under his skin, itchy and screaming at him to fix everything, fix every mistake he’s ever done, and Felix is listening to every word. He’ll get rid of Hyunjin and prove to his boyfriend that the one who owns his heart is the cupid, not Hwang Hyunjin. He takes several sips of the drink Seungmin places in front of him, a soft cocktail that goes down easy, and exhales. Once. Twice. Hyunjin is looking right at him. The fire in his eyes burns, locking the older man in a staring contest that Felix revels in winning.

“What’s that look for?” His Boss muses, getting Minho to pour them a glass of whiskey as they sit beside the burning sunshine. Felix nearly jumps, not expecting to see his employer at all, but then again, he knows they’re not going to stop him. After all, they let him and Hyunjin stay near each other almost constantly. “Something on your mind, Felix?”

“Mhm. Murdering Hyunjin.” He answers plainly, his gaze locked onto Hyunjin’s laughing-with-Changbin form.

“Very well. Don’t do things by halves then.” Boss is gone soon after that, their drink in hand and Felix is left mulling their words in his head. Is he being encouraged to do this? Not that he needs anyone to validate him, but it helps.

“…pretty Yongbokkie…” Felix’s mind is yanked into reality as Hyunjin’s words filter through, the fine thread of his sanity snapping with it. That’s the last time he’ll hear Yongbok out of Hyunjin’s mouth. He throws himself off the bar stool, nearly sending the furniture in question flying, and storms his way over to his target, six other pairs of eyes watching in shock as he all but drags Hyunjin up the flight of stairs, Hyunjin struggling to stay upright with Felix’s furious pace.

“…Chan hyung, he’s gonna do it.” Minho comments, pulling the older man with him once the shock wears off and his legs start functioning. They need to stop anything from happening. As much as he understands the anger, Minho cannot let Felix murder Hyunjin. Felix has all the valid reasons in the world, yes, but Minho can’t let this happen.

Not here, not like this.

Hyunjin crashes as Felix throws him forward, pain blooming across his wrists and arms as he breaks his fall. The door locks, and perhaps the gears are finally connecting; Felix is serious. Felix is going to kill him. The bartender feels small under the younger man’s gaze, scrambling back until he gets himself onto his feet in a panic. The rain lashes down, only aided by the wind whipping through the night air, soaking the bartender as he freezes, eyes locked onto the sight of the younger man stalking his way over.

Nothing prepares him for the sheer force with which Felix punches his gut, pain blooming across his abdomen as Hyunjin’s survival instincts finally start working with him, long and lean arms desperately trying to fend off the attack. He’s stepping back with each dodge of Felix’s fury, a wide-eyed realisation on his face when Hyunjin feels the edge of the room, the ledge hitting his ankle and making him stumble forwards into Felix, who gladly uses it as an opportunity to land a blow to Hyunjin’s ribs and get his hands on his neck.

Small, pretty, and dangerous hands.

“Yong— Felix, please...” Hyunjin rasps, trying and failing to pry Felix’s hands off his neck, his mouth opening and closing, yet unable to get any more words out, his supply of oxygen cut off.

“No! No more of your bullshit, no more of your fucking sweet talk!” Felix screams, his voice ringing out over the harsh weather. This was his chance. His chance to put his nightmares to bed, to get the revenge he so craved. “I’m sick of you! I’m sick of your voice in my head every fucking NIGHT! JUST SHUT UP HWANG HYUNJIN!”

The anger radiates off Felix in hot waves, his chest rising with every breath as he pulls Hyunjin to stand on top of the rooftop ledge with him, the perfect echo of the night everything went wrong. Felix admires the irony of their situation, the perfect parallel to his accident, but it doesn’t stop him from achieving his goal. He pushes Hyunjin, teasing the older man’s demise as Hyunjin’s back bends and Hyunjin gets to observe the twenty-or-so foot drop from the roof of the bar.

“Feels familiar, doesn’t it? Pretty, pretty Sam, don’t you want to see what it feels like? What it feels like to fall to your death?”

He’s so close... just a little further until Hyunjin is nothing but a bad memory and—

“FELIX!” “HYUNJIN!”

What?

Chan is panting, Minho quite literally on his heels, as he kicks the door down, met with rain, wind and the sight of Felix about to throw Hyunjin off the roof. He needs to stop this. Stop Felix’s burning trail of revenge before it gets to a breaking point. But he doesn’t have to do anything because the two eldest’s worst fears come true.

Hyunjin slips, falling backwards and pulling Felix down with him.

“NO! HYUNJIN, FELIX!” The security guard cries, running up to the ledge in time to see Hyunjin hitting an awning and flailing, while Felix’s body is caught against multiple poles, throwing him around until the pair are hitting the ground. Chan can’t move, frozen by the horrifying sight until he feels Minho tugging on his arm and running back down the stairs they came from. His legs move on their own, Chan’s mind reeling at the sight that he knows will forever be burned to the back of eyes. If only he never let them meet, if only he tried harder to keep Felix and Hyunjin away from each other.

He vaguely hears Minho bark orders at the others to call an ambulance, too mentally preoccupied to do anything else but run, run, and make sure his boys aren’t dead where they lay. Pushing his way through doors, corridors and holy fuck where is that damn back exit door—

He swings the door open, shielding his eyes from the rain as he searches for Hyunjin and Felix, crashing to his knees as he eventually finds them, panicked hands reaching to try and fix Felix’s posture.

“Don’t move him hyung!” Minho calls out, dread filling his voice as he approaches Hyunjin’s side, his hands itching with a need to ease the pain he knows the younger bartender is going through. Hyunjin grabs his hand, and Minho snaps out of his daze, looking to the younger with tears in his eyes.

“Hy-hyung…” Hyunjin whimpers, “Is, is Felix…?”

Minho looks over to Chan and Felix, the older of the two sobbing. Felix isn’t moving, he isn’t responding to Chan’s pleas.

“He’s going to be fine pup,” Minho insists, clasping Hyunjin’s hand in his own. “So will you – I’m not letting anything happen to you Hyun-ah, you hear me?”

“…’s my fault, this— all o’ this is my fault, hyung. I kept, kept—”

“Enough. You will be okay, understand? The ambulance is coming baby, just stay awake for me, okay?” Minho bargains, panic seeping into his voice as Hyunjin’s eyes slip closed, only a little appeased by the weak nod Hyunjin gives him in reply.

“’m sorry hyung…please, forgive me…”

[thenovelartist]

The Mystery Man - Ikemen Prince fanfiction

Blame @atelieredux for this story idea that somehow, despite me not being the biggest Gilbert fan, hooked me and refused to let go until I did something for it. Maybe I'm a sucker for single parent AUs and the opportunity of a kid finding their second "parent". (Eyes "Second Chances".) Yeah, definitely...

“My son wants one thing for his birthday. One!”

“And it’s the one thing you can’t get him?” her co-worker deadpanned.

“Yes!” Emma shouted, flinging her arms about. “He wants tickets to go see a filming of his favorite tv show ‘The Mystery Man’, and they’re sold out everywhere.”

“Ohhhh, yeah. I forgot your son likes that creepy show.”

Emma rolled her eyes, then took a step forward when she noticed that the food line she was standing in had moved up. “It’s… not your average children’s show, sure, I’ll give you that. But quality-wise, it’s fantastic in comparison. I’m not opposed to sitting down and watching this with him compared to some children’s programming.”

“It’s creepy.”

“It’s not.”

“The main guy looks every bit the James Bond villain, dressing in black with an eyepatch. My children run screaming from the room every time.”

“Your loss.”

This time, it was her coworker’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Next!”

Emma marched up to the food truck to place her order. It wasn’t common to see them out and about, but one happened to be at the park by the office building today, so she thought “why not?” After placing her order, she stepped off to the side to wait for her food.

“Watch it, kid!”

Turning around, she watched as some middle-aged man began chewing out some kids who looked to be in elementary school, maybe middle school. Their apologies could be heard loud and clear, but the man just wasn’t having it, his voice growing louder and louder by the second.

Even before she had her son, Emma knew she frequently stuck her nose into other people’s business, but this time, her mama bear instincts were just too strong to ignore the situation. Before she could think, she found herself storming over.

“Something the matter, sir?” she asked, putting on her best customer service smile as she placed herself in between the man and the two kids who looked to be on the verge of tears about now.

Just as he opened his mouth, the smell of alcohol hit her, and warning bells went off in the back of her mind. Someone was having it rough if they were drinking mid-day, but that also meant he was in a volatile state where the smallest thing could set him off.

“Stay out of it!”

Suddenly, he swung a hand out at her, one that she dodged only because of how unsteady he was. But that was a good excuse as any to make a swing of her own.

Her fist collided with his jaw, and the man stumbled back into the park fountain.

“Go go go,” she hissed at the kids, shooing them away from the situation.

Not needing to be told twice, the two kids took off at breakneck speed, sneakers slapping loud against the pavement as they disappeared.

“You bitch!”

The man tried to climb out of the fountain, but out of nowhere, a cane tapping against his chest sent the unsteady man straight back in with a splash.

“Now, now, that’s not very polite,” a smooth voice spoke. “You swung out at the lady first, and you have the audacity to say she’s in the wrong?”

With a growl, the drunkard tried to stand up again, but with a tap of the cane, her savior sent the man right back into the fountain.

“Forgive me.” Her savior soon turned towards her, allowing Emma to take in his fierce gaze that was only made more intimidating by his eyepatch. “Are you alright, my lady?”

It took Emma a moment to figure out who this man was, but it was unmistakable. After all, this was her son’s “hero”, Gilbert von Obsidian. “Yes,” she answered, rubbing the lingering sting away from her knuckles. “I’m fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Lifting his cane again, he tapped the end against the drunkard’s chest, preventing him from leaving the fountain once again as he collapsed with a splash. “That was quite a swing you’ve got on you. Color me impressed.”

Honestly, she wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Uh, thank you?”

He chuckled. “Well, your son surely must be thrilled to have such a fierce mother. I have to wonder if he’s as spicy as you. But that said—” With his cane, he tapped the cussing drunkard’s shoulder, preventing him from so much as getting to his knees now. “—you best be careful. Your sense of duty is admirable, but don’t you think it wise to keep your sense of justice under wraps for your son’s sake? What would he do if his precious mother ended up hurt because she was too selfless for her own good?”

Emma’s brow furrowed. How did he know she had a son? Was he listening to her conversation just now while waiting in line for the truck? She’d sworn she hadn’t seen him, but maybe she wasn’t paying close enough attention.

“Don’t give me that look,” he said, giving her a smile that seemed friendly and calculating all at once. “I am ‘The Mystery Man’, after all. Maybe you should listen to your friend and treat me like the James Bond villain I am.”

With that, he once again tapped the drunkard’s shoulder, keeping him in the fountain and away from Emma. “Now, I’ll bet they’re about to call your name any second now. And entertaining this fool isn’t worth letting your food get cold.”

Words seemed unforthcoming, but she had enough good sense to show her appreciation to this… strange man. “Thank you. For your help.”

His smile seemed to cause his lone red eye to glow. “You’re quite welcome. It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Emma.”

“Order for Emma!”

At the shout, she whipped her head around towards the food truck, where her name had just been called. He really had heard everything, hadn’t he?

Though unsettled, Emma turned back to Gilbert. “Excuse me.”

And she scurried off, his gentle chuckle hitting her ears as she went.

Maybe her friend was right about the creepy thing.

* * *

“Emmaaaaa!”

With a chuckle, Emma turned towards Rio, the front deskman at the book publishing firm she was an editor at. “Hey, Rio. Have you been lonely?” she teased.

“You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone!”

Her brows furrowed as she tilted her head. “Huh?”

“Huh?”

The duo blinked at each other for a second before Emma shook her head. “I’m not seeing anyone, Rio. What makes you say that?”

“But then…” Scowl on his face, he glanced towards the door before turning a concerned look back to her. “The guy who left this said you were his sweetheart of justice?” Fishing in a drawer, he pulled out a letter, one with her name written in an elegant script.

Curiously, she took it, flipping it over to reveal a wax seal with a tiger on it. One that looked a little familiar.

Wait…

“Did this man have an eyepatch and cane?”

“So you do know him?”

Dread welled up in her gut. This was the same wax seal Gilbert used on his tv show. How did he know where she worked? Was he stalking her? It had only been two days since they happened to cross paths, so how had he discovered so much about her so quickly? “Er… something like that.”

Rio’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, Emma, you know I’m always here for you, right?”

It was impossible to keep the sweet smile off her lips. “I know, Rio. You’ve been too kind to me.”

“You saved my life and got me this job. My thanks will never be enough,” he finished with a wink.

“You got this job on your own merits,” Emma countered.

“The other point still stands.”

Knowing this spiral wouldn’t stop, she simply shook her head. “Okay, okay. There’s no point in arguing with you, anyway.”

With a bright smile, Rio sat tall in his chair, chest puffed with pride. “So, if you need me to walk you home and clarify that you’re not available because you already have a man in your life, then I can do that, too.”

Playfully, she rolled her eyes. “It’s not fair to lie to them, is it?”

Rio sighed. “You’re too nice for your own good. Look, it’s not lying when you have little Cedric. But if they happen to mistake me for that ‘special man in your life’, then I’m not going to correct them.”

With an amused grin, she shook her head. Her son Cedric really was the only man in her life; after a sad parting with his father, he was all that remained. And she was determined to focus on being the best mother she could to him.

Looking down at the letter burning her hands, her curiosity was unable to be stopped any longer. If this was going to be a problem, she really should let Rio know, if only so he didn’t fuss over her for the next three months. So, if only to put his mind at ease, she popped open the seal of the envelope, taking out the letter only for two slips of paper to fall out and land on the front desk. Upon picking them up…

She froze. No way.

In her hand were two VIP passes to “The Mystery Man” show she had been so desperate to get her hands on.

“Wait, weren’t you looking all over for those?” Rio cried upon seeing what they were.

Numbly, Emma handed the two tickets over to Rio to examine as her gaze fell upon the neat script of the letter.

Ms. Emma,

I hope this letter finds you well. However, I’ll wager you don’t care much for small talk, so there’s no point in wasting your time. Instead, I’ll simply say you’re welcome for the tickets. I’m sure your son will have a happy birthday knowing his mother obtained his wish. Truly, what a sweet and doting mother you are.

As to how these tickets find themselves in your possession, it’s simple process of elimination, really. Your bag had a company logo on it. I had been in the park before you and watched you walk from the direction of the office buildings rather than from the parking garage, so with that, I made a simple deduction.

Lastly, I’ll insist you accept them, not that you can return them anyway as I’m not there to take them back. Furthermore, it would be a tragedy to simply throw them away. After all, your son wants these most of all gifts, correct?

I look forward to seeing you again and to meeting your son. If he’s anything like his spitfire of a mother, I’m sure it will be a joy to make his acquaintance.

Gilbert von Obsidian

Lips pursed, she squeezed the letter. That cocky sonova—

“Emma?”

Breaking out of her trance, Emma turned towards Rio. “Huh?”

“I said you were lucky to score those. But who was that guy who gave them to you?”

She opened her mouth, trying to find the answer as she took the two tickets back from Rio.

“A James Bond villain.” With that, she put the letter and tickets back in the envelope.

Well… villain or no, her son would surely be happy. And it’s not like anything could go wrong at a professional show, right?

Right?

* * *

Cedric was, to use his own words, super-duper excited.

Emma did her best to take as many pictures as she could of this event, capturing the unabashed joy on her son’s face.

Then came time where they could go backstage and have a meet-and-greet with the cast.

Cedric could have exploded with excitement, but Emma was filled with a certain amount of dread facing… well, her son’s hero.

And that dread doubled when Emma realized she’d caught said hero’s eye toe moment they stepped backstage.

She took a breath as they stood in line to do the meet-and-greet. They’d somehow ended up being the last in line, much to her son’s disappointment. But she was able to keep him busy by playing “I spy,” and considering they were backstage with a plethora of props around, there were plenty of things to spy.

When it was finally their turn, Cerdic was fidgeting with excitement that couldn’t be contained. Particularly when Gilbert gave him a smile and extended his hand. “Well, well, how wonderful to meet you.”

Cedric bounced up to Gilbert with all the energy of an active four-year-old. “Hi! You’re my hero!”

Gilbert chuckled. “Your hero, huh? You know who is a hero, too?”

His eye widened. “Who?”

“Your mom.” Gilbert glanced up at Emma, giving her a smile that made her a little uncomfortable, if she were honest. Though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. “I got to meet her once, and I must say, she’s very brave. You must be very proud of her.”

Cedric looked back to Emma, his eyes glowing with love and admiration. “She’s the best.”

Gilbert chuckled, a soft, gentle chuckle that didn’t appear to have any other meaning behind it than true mirth. “I’m very glad to hear it. Tell me, what’s your name?”

“Cedric!”

“That’s a very cool name.”

And just like that, they chatted for a bit. And then a bit more. That’s when Emma started to realize that Gilbert hadn’t done this for any other child, only hers. Which made her slightly suspicious. Emma got the impression that there was much more to Gilbert von Obsidian than what met the eye. He produced and starred in a children’s show, and clearly, he enjoyed being around the children that had VIP passes to meet him. But why did she get the impression that there was something… strange underneath that, oddly, didn’t frighten her. And why was she not concerned that her son was right there, chatting with this man. Idolizing him, even. And yet, she felt secure enough with that.

She best keep her guard up.

“Emma, you should come in for this picture, too.”

Gilbert’s words brought her fully back to reality. “Oh, sure.”

After the photographer took their picture, Gilbert knelt down to Cedric’s level. “It was nice meeting you. It would be cool if we could meet again.”

Cedric looked up at his mom. “Yeah! Can I?”

That dread was back as Gilbert looked over to her. “I can organize it quite easily.”

“No,” she quickly insisted. “I can’t accept your generosity any more than I have.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“No, really. I thank you for the tickets tonight, but I cannot accept any more.”

He hummed, his red eye sparkling mischievously. “Well, that’s a shame. I wonder if I’ll have to simply… forget an invitation at your work again.”

Emma fixed him with the best glare she could while still smiling.

“Oh, no,” he purred. “That’s a scary look.”

And yet, Gilbert seemed to be more amused than intimidated.

“Then, I’ll concede,” he acquiesced. “For now. Cedric, it was wonderful meeting you, but I believe it’s time for you and your mom to go back home for the night.”

“Awww.”

Yet, Cedric said his good byes and got in one hug before Emma guided him out of the studio.

“Did we have fun today?” she asked as they marched back to their car.

“Yeah! It was so cool!”

“I’m very glad.”

And as much as she was loathe to admit, she was very thankful to a very odd eyepatch villain for being the hero of her son’s day.

[abronzeagegod]

ETS WIP Chapter 8: The Time Between

Aeth took two weeks off. They needed and it, and honestly after everything that had happened, they just wanted to be without technology more complicated than their microwave for a while.

Part of the problem was the dreams.

The hospital had medical grade wards against dreams and outside interference. Along with the drugs, they prolonged the subconscious torture that Aeth always seemed to save up for themself.

The first long stretch of their time off was just fixing their sleep schedule, trying to get rest, and letting the nighttime horrors play themselves out.

It was a less than ideal situation.

They saw Lyta a few times over the extended break. She still had to work, and Aeth was terrible company in the beginning when they still weren't fully sleeping. She would drop off some food and stuff for Aeth, but left them to their own devices and spaces.

Lyta knew when to pull, when to push, and when to leave well enough alone.

Eventually, Aeth did start to feel better, to sleep better, but they were stuck in their routine of feeling bad for themself and not doing anything.

The routine that had helped them recover from the events their went through had started to become the crutch that was holding them back.

Finally, what broke them out of the habit of feeling bad for themselves was a phone call.

Aeth reluctantly answered the phone.

"Hello, this is Jer Ollowollu, you assisted me and my family with our computer and the small god we had in it," the voice on the other side of the phone.

Instantly Aeth's mood shifted. "Yes, I remember. How is everything going?"

"Well! We're actually expecting our little god to be cleared in the coming days. In the meantime we're looking for a computer to put them in. Something stable and we can use for a while without having any work or maintenance or upgrades we'll need to do. We hoped you would have a recommendation for us, and maybe help us put everything together with the Lance Corporal returns."

"Of course, I can send you a couple of recommendations tomorrow," Aeth said. "And we can get an install and tutorial set up for a few days from now, so that everything is ready."

They set up a time to install a computer and quickly sent an email of some good computers that the company had on hand that would fit the needs of the small family.

After that was done, Aeth sent an email to their boss. They would be back to work tomorrow.

<run-script-timejump></script>

Returning to work felt odd.

It wasn't that they had finally broken out of their routine of mild depression and were forcing themself out and into a new routine. It was that everyone at work was behaving oddly.

One of the first things Aeth noticed when they got in was that their coworker Yir was at the fridge pulling out a canned triple espresso drink. Which was something she had sworn off a few months ago because it was very badly effecting her mood and sleep since she had found herself drinking too many a day. Even her doctor had told her to slow down on the high caffeine drinks.

"Yir, you OK?" Aeth asked as they put their things away in their locker.

"Great, what's it to you?" she snapped.

"You haven't been drinking that stuff in a while, I was concerned."

"Thanks for being my parent, I'm so glad you're concerned. Fuck off."

Yir stopped off, drinking their caffeine down at a pace that seemed unhealthy. Aeth was left feeling attacked and like today was going to be a long day.

Aeth already found their mood souring and it was hard to not reflect the general feeling of animosity back at everyone.

They worked really hard to keep their customer service voice calm and steady on the phone but even the people calling in were being rude, mean, and demanding impossible things.

Sure enough it was a very long, very tiring day.

As Aeth was clocking out and getting ready to go, they found Lyta coming back in from being out in the field.

"These dumbasses!" Lyta loudly yelled at her phone, her anger was radiating off of her, almost turning up the room's temperature.

"You too?" Aeth asked.

"What?" Lyta asked looking up from her phone finally.

"Everyone seems to be having a day today and it's exhausting."

"Yeah, it's just a good day to be mad at shit," Lyta said. A moment later she finally put her phone away. "How was your day? Was it good to be back?"

Aeth shrugged. "Fine, but people everywhere have been really annoying."

"Let's go find something to eat, and then we can sit in front of the TV," Lyta offered.

"That sounds good."

When they found themselves at Lyta's place with some takeout, watching the first episode of a new scripted show, Aeth's mood hadn't really improved.

Lyta was back on her phone, watching short videos that were causing her to yell things or curse at them, and even worse, leave terrible comments.

Eventually, Aeth reached over and took her phone out of her hands.

"Give that back!" Lyta snarled.

"You're not paying attention. You wanted to watch this with me," Aeth said. "You're not watching."

"I'm paying attention!"

"Watch with me, or I'll give you the phone back and go home," Aeth said firmly.

Lyta crossed her arms and pouted. "Fine!"

By the time the episode was over (they had to restart it), without her phone to distract her, Lyta was back to herself.

"Sorry," she apologized when Aeth was starting to head home. "Sometimes it just feels good to be angry, even if it's not actually good for me."

Aeth just nodded. They didn't have anything really to say, so they just accepted the apology and went home to shower and try to find a moment of solace in the day that was too long and too annoying.

Their apartment was something of a refuge, finally a safe space away from all the nonsense and people that were making this day so much harder and stupider than it reasonably should have been. The shower washed away the remains of the day, the last of the nonsense went away down the drain with the dirt and the grime that came with it.

Aeth was feeling this day more than most other days. This whole week, month, year had been nothing short of a fiasco.

Really, they were just ready for it to be over.

Or for something to change.

There was a sigh that came from them while they were still in the shower. It was the kind of sigh that came from the base of their spine and in the depths of their guts that built until it touched every nerve and then the release was long, slow, and robbed them of every inch of breath in their lungs.

Aeth was ready for something different, for some catalyst to cause a change that pushed them into something hopefully better.

When they got out of the shower there was a message from Lyta.

They looked at the message, even if they didn't feel the energy to respond.

It was a link, and another apology.

"Sorry. You had a day and I didn't make it better. Wish I could make your days better instead of worse ;(" the text said.

The link sent Aeth to a site, since their phone did not have whatever app this was sent from it took them to the website mirror.

Eventually there was a video of an absolutely adorable void-cat trying to absorb an entire tuba which resulted in a series of very funny noises, both from the tuba, and the very distressed tubist. It was a very cute video and it did make Aeth smile.

The algorithm and whatever driving force behind the app automatically started playing "exclusive content only on the app" and considering that Lyta sent them a video of a void-cat there was no shortage of cute animal videos.

Aeth didn't respond for several minutes because they were sucked into the world of the app and the animal videos they kept showing them.

Eventually they did respond a short message.

"It's always better with you. but going from worse to bad ins't the best"

"but i appreciate you"

It was with only a small reluctance that Aeth downloaded the app Swwarm.

i have a kofi where you can read chapters early

[wikifuck]

Keep it fresh!

I have been struggling with a project of mine for ages now, and one of the many ways I have tried keeping it fresh has been this: I wrote a spinoff/fanfiction piece of my own work.

Considering that this is a piece based on a different writing project of mine I find it ironic that the temporary names I ended up giving these characters make it sound like Batman fanfiction.

Dear Tumblr, I call this one Office Work

“Sorry,” Joker said with a bothered voice as he quickly wheeled himself past Bruce as he held the door open.

“Don’t apologize.” Bruce smiled. “It’s no problem."

Joker held his gaze down and continued to the reception area. At least this time he didn’t respond with another apology. Bruce hurried after him.

“Wait.” Joker glanced up in surprise. Bruce came to a halt next to him. “I was thinking about going to the coffee shop down the road on lunch today…” He explained. Joker blinked up at him, perplexed. “Did you want to come with me?” Bruce continued, now a little unsure. To his relief, Joker gave him a quick smile. 

“Maybe… I wasn’t thinking of leaving my office today, but sure.” With that, Joker gave him another quick smile and disappeared off to the elevator banks. Bruce watched in that direction, wondering if he had fucked up. He had thought helping Joker with going to physiotherapy had given him enough brownie points to ask him out, but the bothered look in Joker's eyes still haunted him. Should he have ignored Joker coming to work in a wheelchair again, had he asked too soon? With many questions repeating in his mind, Bruce wandered to his work desk on floor four. His fellow cubical slaves greeted him, some tried to start small talk, but Bruce barely noticed them, deciding to drown his worries in work. 

It was 10 minutes before lunch when he awoke from his work-induced trans. He rubbed his eyes, making charts and numbers float in front of his eyes as he closed them. He tried to get some more work done when a message on his phone caught his eye. 

Joker:

“Sorry, I can’t leave the office right now, a meeting is dragging on. I hope you have fun without me though.”

Bruce sighed. He shot off a quick response.

Bruce:

“np. I can still grab you something, what would you like?”

No answer. Bruce’s logical brain assured him that Joker was still busy in the meeting and couldn’t see the notification, but the louder, emotional side told him that it was just an excuse, obviously Joker had had the time to send the rejection text. Defeated, he thought of just going to the cafeteria in the same building, but the fear of seeing Joker there alone, or worse, with someone else made him go to the coffee shop anyway. The excuse he came up with greeted him as he entered the reception area, Leslie, the receptionist was still with her hands full as usual, probably dealing with some idiot's IT problems that the IT professionals didn’t have time for. She looked eternally grateful as Bruce promised to grab her a coffee and a sandwich on his way.

With that, he made his way to the coffee shop. The scent of fresh brew flowed through him when he stepped into the tastefully decorated shop. Black pipes and dark wood decorated the walls and all the seating and tables were assembled from different recycled materials. Behind the display glass sat everything from muffins to croissant sandwiches to burrito wraps. As he stood in line he started idly scrolling his phone. His subconscious got him to open his texts with Joker. As he scrolled up the messages, a picture he had sent of a muffin with dark and white chocolate chips on top, two weeks ago caught his eye. Joker's response read “Oh wow! I need to try that, it looks amazing!” A lightbulb went off in his head. 

When Bruce got to the front of the line, the clerk greeted him by name.

“Can I get you the usual?” She asked with an upbeat customer service tone.

“Yeah, that, and couple other things.” He smiled back. The cashier packed his things into a to-go bag and soon he was out of the door. He quickly dropped off Leslie’s lunch and then made a beeline for Joker's office.

Praying that Joker was done with his meeting, Bruce knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Joker’s muffled voice called from inside. Bruce opened the door, pondering if Joker had sounded distracted or if he had imagined it. He froze when he saw Joker at his desk, with another man leaning on a file cabinet next to him. Both were sipping on coffee. Joker seemed positively surprised seeing him, that at least as positive.

“Um… I figured I would bring you a muffin and a latte…” Bruce started wearily. “In case you don’t get to the cafeteria on your lunch at all.”

Joker's eyes lit up. “My goodness, you shouldn’t have, thank you.” The string of sentences blended together as they escaped his lips. He thanked Bruse again as he handed the items over the desk.

Bruce finally noticed the orange cups the two had been drinking from were the weak stuff from the cafeteria, the cheapest coffee available. Joker’s expression was like that of a kid on Christmas as he pulled a pretty plastic cup of latte and the muffin out of the brown paper bag with the coffee shop's logo on it. 

He held the muffin in the air. “This looks delicious.”

Bruce smiled coyly. “Yeah, you said you wanted to try one.”

“And here I was planning to get through the day with just coffee!” Joker laughed and looked to the other guy. The stranger forced a lopsided grin onto his lips. Bruce stole a couple of glances in his direction. Had he seemed disappointed by the intrusion? The man pushed off the cabinet and stood. 

“I’m gonna head to my office now, have a good break.” He smiled to Joker and gave Bruce a nod as he passed. The genuine expression made him question if he had imagined everything earlier. 

Bruce’s gaze followed the stranger as he disappeared out the door.

“You did get lunch for yourself too, right?” Joker's voice startled him back to reality.

“Yeah, of course, I always get a latte and a croissant.” 

Joker gestured to the seat in front of his desk. “Care to eat with me?” His voice had a hint of insecurity hidden in it. Without thinking, Bruce plopped down on the soft chair and spread his lunch on a free spot on Joker’s desk. 

They shared a couple of bites of each other's lunch and before Bruce knew it, their break had stretched 10 minutes over time.

[no-code-chatbot-builder]

Transforming My Fitness Journey with Botbuz Gym Chatbot.

As I lace up my sneakers and head to the gym, I reflect on how far I’ve come in my fitness journey. But if you had told me a year ago that a chatbot would become my virtual workout partner, I would have laughed. Fast forward to today and I’m amazed at how much the Botbuz Gym Chatbot has transformed my fitness routine and motivation levels.

It all started on one hectic day when I couldn’t decide whether to hit the gym or stay at home. I’d been struggling to keep up with my goals, juggling work, family life, and a million other tasks. My workouts were inconsistent and I often found myself skipping them due to a lack of motivation or poor planning. But then, I stumbled across the Botbuz Gym Chatbot and everything changed.

A New Beginning : The Introduction to Botbuz Gym Chatbot

I had heard about chatbots being used in customer service and sales, but never in fitness. When I first heard about the Botbuz Gym Chatbot, it piqued my curiosity. Could this be the solution to my fitness challenges ? After some research, I decided to give it a try, hoping that it might help me stay on track.

From the moment I activated the bot, it felt different. Unlike traditional gym apps that seemed to be all about tracking stats, the Botbuz Gym Chatbot took a more personalized approach, offering tailored fitness plans and workout suggestions based on my goals, fitness level and preferences.

Personalized Fitness Plans and Recommendations

One of the most impressive features of the Botbuz Gym Chatbot was how it offered personalized workout plans. I’d tried various fitness programs before, but most of them felt generic and failed to consider my specific needs. With the chatbot, I was able to input my fitness goals—whether I wanted to build strength, lose weight, or increase flexibility—and it created a custom plan just for me.

The bot didn’t just offer a list of exercises; it walked me through every movement, showing me how to do it correctly and explaining the benefits. As someone who had spent time in the gym but never really learned the technicalities, this was a game-changer. I didn’t need a personal trainer on-site; the chatbot acted as my virtual coach, providing guidance, motivation and adjustments based on my progress.

Tracking Progress and Staying Accountable

Staying consistent with workouts is one of the biggest challenges many people face. With the Botbuz Gym Chatbot, I didn’t have to rely on memory or paper logs anymore. The chatbot automatically tracked my progress after each workout, recording the exercises I’d completed, my sets, reps and weights. It even asked how I felt after each session—whether I was sore, tired, or energized.

I started to notice something surprising: the more I used the bot, the more motivated I became. It wasn’t just about completing a workout; the chatbot gave me insights into my performance. It would show me trends over time, reminding me of how much stronger I had gotten or how my endurance had improved. The visual feedback helped keep me motivated, especially on days when I felt like skipping the gym.

The chatbot also made it easier to stick to my workout schedule. It sent me reminders about my upcoming sessions and checked in with me after a few days of inactivity, offering encouragement and tips to get back on track. Having that constant support, even in the form of a chatbot, made a significant difference in my commitment to my fitness goals.

Interactive Features and Motivation Boost

Fitness can sometimes feel like a lonely journey, especially when you're doing repetitive exercises. But with the Botbuz Gym Chatbot, it was far from isolating. The chatbot didn’t just tell me what to do—it engaged with me. After every workout, it would congratulate me on my progress, celebrate my achievements and encourage me to keep pushing forward.

The motivational messages weren’t generic either. The chatbot would reference my personal goals, making the encouragement feel relevant and meaningful. It felt like having a workout buddy who knew exactly when I needed a motivational boost and when to challenge me to go further.

Moreover, the chatbot didn’t just focus on fitness—it also provided healthy eating advice and recovery tips. It suggested post-workout meals that aligned with my dietary preferences and even recommended stretches or yoga poses to help me recover from intense workouts.

Seamless Integration with Other Fitness Tools

As someone who likes to track all aspects of my health, I was thrilled to discover that the Botbuz Gym Chatbot seamlessly integrated with my other fitness tools. It synced with my smartwatch to track my heart rate and calories burned, and it even integrated with my calendar to schedule workouts during my free time.

The ability to sync everything together meant I didn’t have to juggle multiple apps or devices. All my data was in one place, making it easier to evaluate my progress and adjust my fitness strategy as needed. The chatbot acted as the central hub of my fitness experience, connecting all the dots and ensuring that my routine was balanced and holistic.

A Personalized Approach to Fitness – Beyond the Gym

The Botbuz Gym Chatbot didn’t stop at just workouts. It began to evolve with my needs. Over time, it learned more about my habits and preferences. If I told it I was feeling stressed or had a busy week, it would suggest mindfulness exercises, quick workouts, or stretches that could fit into my schedule.

On the days I couldn’t make it to the gym, the chatbot offered alternative exercises that I could do at home. If I was traveling, it recommended portable equipment like resistance bands and bodyweight exercises to ensure I wouldn’t miss a workout. It had become more than just a fitness coach—it was my personalized wellness companion, always ready to adapt to my changing needs.

The Final Results : A Fitness Transformation

Looking back, I can confidently say that the Botbuz Gym Chatbot has been a major part of my fitness transformation. I’ve achieved goals I once thought were out of reach, like improving my strength, reducing body fat, and increasing my overall stamina. But more importantly, I’ve gained a newfound sense of consistency and confidence in my fitness journey.

The convenience of having a virtual assistant to guide me, track my progress, and keep me accountable has made all the difference. Whether I’m at the gym, at home, or traveling, I always have the support I need to stay on track with my fitness goals.

In conclusion, the Botbuz Gym Chatbot has revolutionized my approach to fitness. It’s not just about automating workouts—it’s about creating a personalized, adaptable and engaging fitness experience that empowers individuals to take control of their health. If you’re looking to elevate your fitness routine and get the most out of every workout, I highly recommend giving the Botbuz Gym Chatbot a try. It’s more than just a chatbot—it’s your new fitness partner.

[touchstoneaf]

So, I've been watching some sea-rescue type videos today, where people help animals who've been engulfed in our trash or whatever it is... and one thing I've noticed in a lot of these videos of late is that species that should have nothing to do with each other (like for instance reptiles like turtles and mammals like dolphins and bony fish like sharks) are actually looking out for each other, because you'll have like a dolphin coming to communicate with the humans (or even a whale and some dolphins)... and then when they bring a human to where the problem, is it's like a manta ray or a sea turtle that's in trouble.

Which tells me a couple of very interesting things: (so let's get fucking cerebral for a min, my neurospicy armchair-science crackheads!)

1) There are a lot of animals in the ocean that are intelligent enough to recognize mutual needs, and mutuality in their wider environment. That they don't only pay attention to their own species or their own type of animal or their own individual survival only. In fact, they clearly recognize their interdependence (which takes actually contemplating your environment, and the positions of other creatures within it, and shows a very interesting model of intelligence that is not just instinctual in nature),

2. They also recognize how to manipulate humans into doing what is needed (for instance, they appear to recognize that humans respond better to porpoises and whales, or occasionally turtles), because we recognize that they are similar to us in some way; or perhaps they recognize that the air-breathing creatures in the ocean can function as go between with the air-breathers on the surface?, and that therefore we more swiftly assume they are communicating something to us than we would if we had like for instance some random fish waving around underneath the surface of the water nearby... so these guys get sent as like the diplomats to make the first contact with the weird land mammals... And then they bring us to help their wider society in the water, which means either...

3. Possibly they are aware that, like, "you guys caused this problem with your trash, so come fix it." (SEE: Battle Orcas @ end). Or at least it's definitely recognized that we have the appendages and/or tools to fix this situation, which shows a recognition of cause and effect, and of tool use, or the difference in abilities based on different bodies, and...

4. And then they actually give beautiful displays in return for services rendered, things that humans normally wouldn't see in their fish societies, like manta rays doing a dance for the humans in gratitude (or what we assume is gratitude, more on this later)... dances which are something that normally no human would ever see, because it's a custom/behavior normally kept within the manta rays' families...

5. Which shows not only the understanding that you can give a gift in return for a service rendered (aka understanding of economy), or a recognition that we to fit into the interdependence model they have already shown they understand, which means extending that model to creatures who live on land, which is fascinating, as it also maybe possibly shows that they believe that we have a mutuality or an interdependence with them as well, even though we're not part of their local environment?

6. Which also may be shows that they possibly understand the concept of this whole world as an interrelated entity on which we all live, and maybe even how we interact with and affect each other in our existences, not as separate biomes but as a part of a larger whole?

Seriously, this is Galaxy brain shit, y'al! We don't seem to be picking up that there is a hell of a lot happening here that we have underestimated! It makes one think that there's a lot more going on in the internal lives of these creatures then we had ever given them credit for before now!

This is me flapping my hands in excitement, cuz this is just crazy. I feel like we've hit a new level in the game or something, here. Add in that some Orca pods have recognized that some specific humans are a problem above and beyond other humans? And that they are willing to start taking action in that vein, like they recognize that they are the ferocious enforcers of the ocean (*Battle Orcas), so they will do what even massive creatures like whales aren't choosing to do with their huge tails? (ie, recognizing they have a different role from these other creatures... or they just simply have the nature to understand the concept of Vengeance where the whales don't? Or who knows what.)

Add that together with the clear understanding of other marine animals that they are all in this together, and we have some very interesting conclusions to consider. Seriously, the world has leveled up, and we need to join hands/flippers with our marine friends and effect the revolution!

[sunnyworldwidelogistics]

Shipping to Jamaica: How We Helped a Client Solve an FBA Rejection Problem

Shipping to Jamaica: How We Helped a Client Solve an FBA Rejection Problem

We recently had a client from Jamaica, Dwayne, who ordered three containers of products from China. Dwayne wasn’t too familiar with Amazon operations and was worried something might go wrong. Before shipping, he had already sent the FBA labels to the factory. But things didn’t go as planned. When the goods arrived at the port and I arranged for a local driver to deliver them, Amazon’s warehouse refused to accept them. This happened because the paperwork wasn’t complete, the labels weren’t correct, and other issues didn’t meet Amazon’s requirements. When this happens, Amazon sends feedback to the customer’s order dashboard. In this case, the rejection was likely due to the labels not meeting Amazon’s standards.

If a rejection isn’t handled quickly, it not only incurs various fees but also delays Dwayne’s product listing. So, when I received the driver’s rejection notice that evening, and with the weekend just around the corner, I immediately contacted Dwayne at 1 AM to check the rejection reason on his Amazon dashboard.

Dwayne wasn’t very familiar with Amazon’s dashboard, and after searching for a while, he still couldn’t find the rejection information. Both of us were anxious, but we needed to find a solution. The first step was to help Dwayne locate the feedback from Amazon. Since many of our clients run Amazon businesses, I reached out to a client who was more experienced. I asked him to record a video tutorial on navigating the Amazon dashboard, and I sent it to Dwayne.

Following the steps in the video, Dwayne finally found the relevant feedback. As expected, the rejection was due to the labels not meeting Amazon’s requirements. I immediately relayed this information to the truck driver. That same day, I arranged for the goods to be returned to our warehouse in Germany. We then re-labeled the products according to Amazon’s standards and rescheduled the delivery to ensure the goods would be listed on time.

Dwayne was thrilled and said, “Today we picked up all the goods from the warehouse. We are very satisfied. Tell your boss he should increase your salary because you always have time for us and are doing a very good job. See you on the next order.”

As a large international logistics company with nearly 100 employees, we’ve managed to stay competitive in the tough logistics industry by continuously improving our services to meet our customers’ needs. With the growth of e-commerce, our services have evolved as well. Whatever our clients need, we provide it in a timely manner—whether it’s quickly handling Amazon customs clearance, securing an appointment date with Amazon, solving rejection issues, or ensuring timely listing on Amazon. Our goal is to simplify FBA logistics so our clients can focus on their business without worrying about the details.

At Sunny Worldwide Logistics, our service isn’t about being the cheapest; it’s about providing value for the price. That’s why many of our clients are repeat customers. We offer full tracking of goods, stay online during holidays, and respond to issues within 24 hours. Many clients who work with us once can’t imagine working with anyone else. They are very satisfied with our promptness and service. We focus on every step of the logistics process, and our inquiry-to-sale conversion rate is 83%—you won’t find another company in Shenzhen with those numbers.

[bindupthesebrokenbones]

Hello everyone! I'm breaking the formula today as we observe Self-Care Sunday here.

Originally I had planned a post about having a spa day - basically a comfort/relaxation self care post.

However!

I actually have something else to talk about today, and it's something that will roll very nicely into tomorrow's Mindful Monday post. So what happened?

Yesterday I went to the flea market to work on offloading my extra belongings, and I got heat exhaustion.

Yep, you read that right. The author of a blog about taking care of yourself got heat exhaustion. So how did that happen? What did I do about it?

Nabbing a table at the flea market is a part of my weekly routine that I've been building in part to keep myself from wallowing in grief, in part to re-teach myself good customer service, and in part so that I get out of the darn house at least once a week.

Here's what yesterday's weather looked like while I was at the market:

The flea market hours are from 7am to 4pm, so as you can see, we started the day off with warm temperatures, HIGH humidity, and light breezes. The other vendors and I were all sweating by 9am.

In the afternoon, the temperature rose, as it does, and we were still dealing with over 50% humidity. Still sweating, and the breeze was still pretty light.

I was lucky enough to nab a table under a canopy, but with the breeze so light when it did blow through, the stagnant, humid air was enough even without direct sunlight.

It's very important to stay hydrated at all times, but especially so in high temperature situations. If you're sweating a lot, you're getting dehydrated, and you have to drink more to balance it out again.

And here's where I went wrong. I didn't drink more than I usually would. Part of this was that I was on my own and didn't want to leave my table multiple times to get more drinks and, inevitably, go pee. Part of it was that I didn't recognize that I was dehydrated until I was already starting to feel sick. I dozed off in my chair multiple times, and I would get up and move around to wake myself up.

As soon as I realized what was happening, I went to get two 12 ounce drinks from the concession stand, and a snack because I hadn't eaten in a few hours either. Now, I don't know if you've ever had heat exhaustion, but rehydrating in that state is a delicate balancing game, at least for myself. If I drink straight water especially, I have to take small sips every few minutes. If I drink large, or even regular sized mouthfuls, my stomach will lurch and I'll lose all that water, plus more.

So here I am, steadily downing 24 ounces of fluid and nibbling on my snack. After a few minutes, the nausea goes away and I think to myself, ah! I caught it in time and I'm fine.

And I was fine. For about 90 minutes. And then the symptoms hit me like a freight train.

Symptoms of heat exhaustion include dizziness, feeling faint, cool/clammy skin with goosebumps, blurred vision, fatigue, headache, nausea/vomiting, heavy sweating, rapid heart rate, shallow breathing, swollen feet/ankles/hands, and a drop in blood pressure when you stand.

If you've never had heat exhaustion, good. I hope you never do. I sent my mom a message that I needed to pack up and leave early, and while I waited for her to show up, I packed my totes. It was so hard, dear readers. I had to keep one hand on the table almost constantly so I didn't fall. I had to pause for several minutes at a time to just gasp for breath.

By this point, almost all the vendors around me had already left. The only ones left either didn't notice what was happening, or I was hiding it very well. Either way, a task that I normally could have completed in ten minutes took me thirty. And my mom still hadn't arrived with the car yet.

I sank into my chair and pulled up Discord to chat with some friends, and just prayed that I wouldn't completely pass out.

When my mom arrived, we loaded up the car and climbed in.

Now, I want to take a moment to tell you all that the correct thing to do when someone is experiencing heat exhaustion is move them as quickly as possible to a cooler environment, preferably an air conditioned room, provide them with plenty of fluids and loose clothes, and if they can, get them to take a cool shower. If they can't, use a mister or cool wet towels to bring their temperature down.

You should also avoid giving them fever reducing medications like acetaminophen (Tylenol) or ibuprofen. And if they aren't starting to feel better in 30-60 minutes, you want to take them to the hospital because heat exhaustion can very easily become heat stroke.

The reason I'm telling you this is because what my mom and I did was pretty much the exact opposite of all of this. Our plan was to get a room at a hotel together (it's a long story) and cool off in the AC for a while. Due to some circumstances that I don't completely remember (I was really fucking out of it by this point), we didn't go to the hotel. We went to the auto shop where my mom works, and I spent several more hours in the hot office there. They have AC there, but it's not great. We did get me a couple of cold drinks, and I drank them all, and then I spent the next few hours dozing on and off.

Sitting in that office, half asleep and miserable, I had a terrible headache and chills. My mouth was dry no matter how much I drank, and I was miserable. More than once, I thought about asking my mom to just bring me home, but we'd had plans. We were going to go swimming, and get dinner, and go see a movie. I still wanted to do those things - or rather, I wanted to want to do those things.

So even when I should have said something, I stayed quiet. We spent about six or seven hours in that office before finally going to the hotel. There, I quickly rinsed off in the shower, then so did my mom and stepdad, and instead of staying there and just resting for the night like I probably should have, I agreed to go to the movie still.

I was uncomfortable, agitated, and aggressive right up until the movie started, and even during the movie, every little thing pissed me off. Someone fell asleep mid movie and was snoring (don't do that guys, that's rude). People kept getting up and leaving. Like five people in front had their phones out with the screen brightness at max.

I felt like tearing off all my skin, I was so uncomfortable and miserable, and my mom seemed like she was getting frustrated with me, which made me more miserable.

Somehow, I made it through the movie. We went back to the hotel. I crawled into bed and promptly crashed for about 6 hours. By this morning, I felt better for the most part, but even now at 6pm, over 24 hours after getting out of that heat, I can still feel the lingering nausea and exhaustion.

I made a lot of bad choices yesterday, and I can only really blame myself for the situation that I found myself in. There was a lot that could have been done better, but that's for me to reflect on in my journal tonight.

The biggest mistake that I made however was failing to listen to my body and practice the most basic, practical self care - providing my body with food, water, shelter, and rest. I could have ended up in the hospital yesterday, and I'm grateful that not only did that not happen, but I also recovered enough to be able to share the story with you.

Now excuse me, my lovely readers, while I get a little more rest before making a healthy snack.

[cielcreations]

Lifeless Platter - Ending 4: Best-Served Hot

Trigger Warning: Canon typical death, violence, and blood at the end.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 [ You Are Here ] Pt. 5

"Oh, hey, you actually showed up for training!" The redheaded chef smiled brightly, "Quite early, too!"

"If you're not five minutes early, you're late." The raven haired man replied, voice deep and gruff.

The redhead chuckled, putting his hands on his hips, "Well, that's good to hear, it means you're serious! This is a highly sought after position and you're already off to a good start, Vincent! However, I noticed your resume, you didn't have many customer service jobs, so I hope you don't mind if I help you out a bit and teach you how to do this." The man then hummed, "Though, forgive me if this comes off as rude, I'm just confused why you would go from a high paying job you've had for years to a mere server?"

"Must I answer or can we just move on, Chef Lamoree?" The raven narrowed his eyes.

"Ah, just call me Rody, no need for formalities!" The redhead chuckled, ignoring the hostility, "Like I said, I'm just confused, but I won't push!" He smiled, "Well, with serving, it's pretty easy! All you have to do is seat customers, take their orders, and bring food to them! When seating people, keep in mind how many people are dining. You don't want a large group crowding around one area. Once they put their menus down, that's when you should go check on them!"

Vincent grabbed a menu and opened it, "'What we're serving today?'" He read aloud.

"Yes! Customers don't pick what they eat, we have a menu that changes daily! It did say that in the interview."

"Well, yes, I read that. Just wondering about it."

The redhead chuckled, "Well, once you've taken their order, bring it to the marker between the window and the door. That way, it'll be sent to the kitchen. The cooks will start working on whatever order you have right away, but keep in mind they prioritize cooking the dessert, side, meal, and appetizer. In that order." Rody then got serious, narrowing his eyes a bit, "Do not pester or distract any of the cooks if it's taking too long. Perfection is key and if you're pestering them, it won't be perfect."

"Understood."

"Good." Rody smiled once more, "Once the order is ready, you'll find it at the window to then serve to the customers. They'll ask for more after their appetizer, so don't make them wait too long. Once they're ready for the bill, go behind the counter to check them out. Once they're done with their meal, make sure to clean their table too, okay? I don't want guests thinking we leave messes out in the open! The garbage is in the kitchen, right next to the back door. When it's full, take the trash and bring it out to the alley behind the kitchen to throw it out."

"Understood." Vincent repeated.

"Make sure to study the menu, too! What I just told you are the basics to any serving job, but you need to be able to know what we are offering. If you're stuttering or confused, it'll make us look bad and I don't want our customers thinking we're anything less than professional."

"If anything, your demeanor screams unprofessional..." The raven muttered more to himself.

"It's hospitable, which is professional!" Rody argued, smiling brightly.

Hardly. Vincent thought.

"Well, I'll be in the back, helping the chefs and such. If you need me, just come on back! Good luck!"

With Rody in the back, Vincent began to clean off the tables, officially starting his shift. He made sure to seat the customers, smiling softly (though, it was a bit difficult and forced, but the customers didn't seem to care) as he took their order before handing it off to the chefs. He cleaned and bused the tables, making sure to take out the trash when needed. He focused on his job, making sure to never make a mistake.

By the end of the day, the restaurant was probably cleaner now then when Vincent first started the day.

"Ah, Vince!"

The raven turned around, raising an eyebrow, "'Vince?'"

"Ah, sorry, did I say that? I hope you don't mind the nickname!" Rody smiled, offering a plate, "Anyways, I have some Green Onion Rolls!"

"...What about them?" Vincent responded.

The chef laughed, "Take them! I need to make sure my staff is well taken care of so, please, the food is yours!"

"Oh, uh, truly?" The raven asked, "Well, thank you. Do we have a to-go box that I may use?"

Rody looked around. He grabbed an empty box and slid the plate inside, "Not a to-go box, but it'll have to do."

"Thank you again, Chef Lamoree."

"Please, Rody is just fine!"

Vincent took the box and left back to his apartment. Once inside, he put the food in the fridge. An... odd feeling swirled in his stomach, making him not want to touch or eat it. He moved to the bathroom and got himself ready for bed and went to lay down on the couch. However, before he could truly relax, his phone started ringing He groaned, grabbing a pillow, laying on his side, and covering his ear.

Stop calling me. He thought.

***

"M-My apologies for being late!"

"You're sorry?!" Rody huffed, turning around, hand on his hips as he looked up from his papers, "An apology isn't going to cut it when you're late and it's only your second day-" He paused, eyes widening as he finally faced Vincent, "-Why do you look like that?"

"I was hoping to wait until the rain stopped before I biked here, but it didn't seem to be relenting anytime soon." Vincent explained, standing on the porch and squeezing the water out of his shirt, "I truly am sorry for being late, I know it's unprofessional-"

"It's alright." Rody reassured, gently taking his wrist, pulling the other to his office. He offered a chair, "Here, sit."

Vincent did so.

The chef then took out two towels, wrapping one around Vincent's shoulders before using a smaller towel to begin to dry off his hair, "Here, let's get you dry before we have to open."

Vincent nodded, hugging the towel more around his body as the redhead continued to dry off his hair.

"Do you have an umbrella?"

"No, I do not."

"I see." Rody's voice lowered, almost sadly, "Well, then, I'll give you mine for the ride back! Just try not to let this happen again, okay?"

"Thank you for the offer, but I can't possibly use your umbrella."

"And why not?"

Vincent looked up at the chef, "How will you be getting home without it?"

Rody laughed, "I live here!"

"...I'm sorry?"

"My apartment is upstairs!" Rody gently pushed his head down, continuing to dry it, "There's no need for me to have it, at least not now."

"I... see. Well, I suppose that makes more sense."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, it's nothing." Vincent looked up at the other once more, "Is that not worrying, however? If something were to happen to the building, it'll all be gone."

The redhead chuckled, gently poking the other's nose, "Aw, cute, you're worried about me!"

"E-Excuse me?" The raven blushed.

Rody handed the other the towel, chuckling, "Just teasing! Now, take your time, finish cleaning up, and get ready for work, okay?"

Vincent shook his head, embarrassed, drying himself off. He looked away, "T-Thank you."

"Of course!"

The raven folded the towels and placed them on the redhead's desk. They walked out of the office and readied himself for work before seating the first people who walked in. Once he seated the people, he smiled and took their orders, served them, cleaned the tables, checked people out, balancing it out pretty easily. Eventually, when everyone had left, he took out the trash, throwing it away in the back alley before coming back inside. He saw Rody, staring at the chefs, leaning against the wall, face blank.

"Chef Lamoree, may I ask you something?"

"'Rody.'" The redhead jokingly corrected, "Can you say it with me? 'Ro-dy!'"

Vincent sighed, "Right, uh, Rody, may I ask you something?"

"If you have the free time, I don't mind. Just don't let the customers go unnoticed!"

"Of course not. If I may, why do you stand here?"

"My job is to observe and monitor the chefs." Rody explained, smiling, "They are to cook my dishes to absolute perfection! If they are to even slightly stray from the way I cook, then I will jump in there!"

"Is that not a bit... harsh?"

"Not to cut this conversation short, but I heard the bell."

"Oh-!" Vincent eyes widened, turning to leave the kitchen.

He continued on with his work, seating people and taking their orders once more. After another few hours, his shift ended. He finished cleaning what he needed to and got ready to leave.

"Oh, Vince, wait!" The raven turned. Rody walked offering, offering his umbrella as well as a small box with a smile, "Inside is Blueberry Crepes! I hope you like it!"

"...Thank you, Ch- Rody." Vince took the items, the redhead giggling.

With the chef's umbrella and food in his hand, Vincent went home. Once he got back to his apartment, he once again put the food in the fridge. He got ready for bed and laid on the couch. The phone began to rang and the raven groaned. Doesn't she have better things to do? He thought, letting it ring. Once it stopped, he sighed in relief, closing his eyes to sleep once more.

***

The shift started out normal. Vincent seated who needed to be seated, took the orders to the kitchen, served the food, checked them out, and bussed tables. He was beginning to make very decent tips and was extremely upbeat and happy with his progress. Eventually the trash got full and he had to take it out-

"Ow!" Vincent exclaimed, looking at his hand as he dropped the bag, "S-Shit-"

"Vincent."

The raven turned, facing Rody, who stared at him. Seeing the other so stoic, he turned nervous, "I- It- I-I apologize, there was something in the trash!" He looked at his hand, "I-I believe it ripped the bag open when I dropped it!"

"Vince." The chef repeated, taking a step forward.

Blood spilled from his palm, a large cut on it, "I-I- It cut me! I didn't throw anything I wasn't suppose to, I don't think!

"Vince." Rody gently tapped his face, the raven stopping, "You don't need to worry about that, let me see." He hummed, face calm. He spread the other's fingers, Vincent wincing as the other assessed the situation, "Hm, a shallow cut, nothing too serious."

"I-I apologize, I'll clean-"

"Don't worry about that. Someone else will clean it." Rody face sharply turned, two immediately jumping to follow his directions. The redhead turned back and smiled at Vincent, "Let's get this cleaned up! We can't have you serving people like this."

He gently took Vincent to his office, setting the other in a chair. He carefully applied ointment to the raven's hand before gently wrapping it, Vincent watching Rody's delicate work.

"I-I really do apologize-"

"Accidents happen, it's fine."

"I understand if you wish to reprimand-"

"Was it intentional?"

"No, of course not-"

"Then there's no need." The chef reassured as he finished, "Is that why you got a bit nervous?"

Vincent was silent.

"I see." Rody stood, "I understand striving for perfection, my restaurant is an example of that. However, mistakes are bound to happen. The best thing to do is correct those mistakes, not freak out over them." He smiled, "Why don't you stay here for a bit and collect yourself?"

"I-I can-"

"Vincent, I'm not asking." Rody interrupted, face serious, "You are a little shaken up, which is fine. Take your time calming down, I will handle the customers in the meantime."

"I-" Vincent bit his bottom lip, looking down, "T-Thank you..."

Rody smiled and left the office as Vincent sat, calming himself. He took deep breaths and, once he felt he had calmed down enough, he left. He went onto the floor, where Rody was finishing taking someone's order. The woman giggled and smiled flirtatiously at the redhead, who merely smiled back. Once he finished, he walked back to give the order to the kitchen, his smile immediately falling.

"I can take over." Vincent offered.

The chef sighed in relief, smiling at the other, "Good, you're feeling better! I'm terrible with customers!"

"Really? You seemed to be doing well."

"Customers annoy me." Rody answered honestly, before giving one last smile, "Be careful, okay?" 

Vincent nodded as the other disappeared into the kitchen once more. Vincent finished his shift and cleaned everything up. Once he was sure everything was ready for tomorrow, he went into the kitchen to bid his goodbyes. Rody gave the raven a plate of Squid Ink Pasta with Shrimp, the raven thanking him. He then went home, got ready for bed, and laid on his couch. His phone began ringing and he merely stared at it.

With every passing second, he grew more and more annoyed, he couldn't help but wonder what made her want to call him so bad. When it finally stopped, he sighed in relief. Thank you. He thought, happy with the silence, falling asleep.

***

"Who the HELL do you think you are?!"

Vincent jumped, unsure what he was walking in on. He was working his shift and was bringing in some dirty dishes and to take out the trash when he saw Rody, standing in front of the cook, glaring down with such hate and malice, a stark contrast to his playful, bubby personality.

"I-I apologize, Chef-"

"A 'sorry' isn't going to fucking cut it, now will it?" Rody hissed, accenting his words.

Vincent shut the door behind him, not wanting customers to hear as he watched the scene.

"Is your brain too small to realize a dish like that is not at all acceptable in my kitchen?!" Rody grabbed the plate, slamming it into the other's chef, smearing it on their coat.

"N-No, Chef-"

"Then why is it even here?!"

"I-I don't know, Chef, I m-must've-"

"'You don't know?!'" Rody repeated, his voice raising, "You 'don't know?!' How is it that you don't know?!"

"I-It must've slipped my mind, Chef!" The cook managed to squeak out, "S-Some flour had been left near the stove and I-I didn't want to get burned-"

"You didn't want to get burned?" Rody mocked, "Oh, well that just makes it aaaaaall better~!" He cackled. He grabbed the man's hands and put it behind his back. One of the Chef's hand held the cook's arms in place as the other grabbed the man by the back of his hair. He then shoved the man's face towards the burned stove, keeping it just out of reach of the flames.

The man squeaked, Vince gasped.

"NOT." Rody growled, snickering darkly, "Don't talk back to me in my own fucking kitchen, you damn pig! If you plan on being a semi-decent cook, you can walk your shrimpy legs right~ on~ out~ of~ here~! There is no conceivable reason to be scared of something as minor as a stove. If you're stupid enough to get burnt, then that is your fault and, as long as you are in my kitchen, you. Will. Keep. Cooking."

The chef gulped, whispering out, "Y-Yes, Chef."

"I can't hear you~!" The redhead sung.

"Y-YES, CHEF!" The cook yelled.

Rody hummed, seemingly satisfied. He lifted the man up and smiled, letting go, "Well then, back to it~!"

He turned and his green eyes met Vincent's onyx ones. Rody stared at him for a second then winked teasingly, moving to go stand by the wall once more. The raven blushed and shook his head, putting the dirty dishes away and taking the trash out. When he came back, he walked over to Rody, who was back to smiling.

"Hello, Vince, fancy seeing you here!"

"Was... that really necessary?"

"If you're going to criticize how I run my kitchen, you can leave." The redhead spat.

Vincent changed the topic, "Are you single?"

"Oh? Why do you ask~?" Rody teased with a wink.

"Need to make sure you're not treating a poor woman like that."

"So mean, Vince! I'll have you know, I'd treat my partner well!" The redhead laughed.

"I suppose. You do own a restaurant, you must be quite popular among women, hm?"

"And men." The redhead said confidently, again winking.

The raven blushed, looking away, "Well, do you plan to settle down with anyone? Perhaps get married, hire a manager to run the place?"

"This is me settling down. I do this for myself!" The redhead smiled, "I don't want anyone to take this from me, so I do it myself." He then teased, poking Vincent's nose, "Now, dontcha have to get back to the customers?"

Vincent blushed, but did so. He finished his shift and went to the kitchen, Rody already having a to-go box ready for him. Vincent's face turned a light shade of red, muttering out a thanks as he took the box and left. When he got home, he opened it to find a Strawberry Shortcake inside. He put it in the fridge and laid down on the couch.

The phone rung and he ignored it, falling asleep.

***

The next two days were uneventful in terms of work. Vincent and Rody continued to talk between shifts when they could, the redhead smiling, trying to be overly friendly to ease the raven's tension. Vincent was skeptical of his smile, but tried not to show it, loosening his body as they talked so he wasn't so stiff. Rody also gave him food after every shift.

A Croque Madame were put in the fridge, untouched.

His phone rang each day. Usually, it would ring once and he would fall asleep.

However, as he was putting the Lemon Tart in the fridge, his phone began ringing for a second time. He groaned, moving towards it and picking it up.

"Listen, Miss, I am not-"

"Miss? I don't think I'm a Miss!"

"A-Ah, R-Rody! I-I apologize!" The raven blushed in embarrassment, "F-Forgive me, how can I help you?"

"Well, are you free tonight?"

"I... suppose."

"Perfect, I need your help! Can you come to the restaurant? I am having a dinner party!"

"...You are... inviting me to a party?"

"Yep! I'll see you soon!"

The redhead hung up and Vincent blinked. He rolled his eyes, hung up, and got dressed in more casual clothes. He went back to the restaurant and Rody was waiting outside for him. The redhead led the way up to his apartment, the raven looking around. It was a bit of a mess, but the redhead was definitely a minimalist. He had a nice green couch with a coffee table, sitting in front of a large TV, a kitchen with a long counter and some highchairs, a rug on the floor, and a few small shelves with his books, some plants, and his trophies.

"Very... cozy..." Vincent muttered.

"Of course! I go for cozy homey vibe!" Rody smiled.

"...I thought you said this was a dinner party. Where are the other guests?"

"Huh? Oh, no, no, you're not a guest! I need you to serve the actual guests!"

"...You called me here for work?"

"I'll pay you, don't worry! It will be on your check!"

"...Fine." The raven grumbled.

"Dishes are on the kitchen counter!"

Vincent went into the kitchen and picked up a plate, taking them into the living room for the guests to enjoy. Once he finished, he went to stand in the back.

"Hey, wait, Vincent?"

The raven turned, confused as a brunette approached him.

"I thought so, it is you! It's me, Antonie from Mr. Vacher's office!"

Vincent went stiff, his blood turning ice cold, "I... I see."

"I stopped seeing you and Gabriel, whatever happened to you? You were, like, the best writer there!"

Vincent clenched his fists, "It's, uh, private."

"You know, I heard Manon Vacher? Mr. Vacher's daughter? She was spreading some nasty rumors about you." The brunette hummed, "Is that why you left? I'm sure if you-"

"I have to use the restroom." Vincent hissed out, quickly pushing past him.

"Ah, wait, Vincent-"

The raven went to the kitchen and into the hallway to find the bathroom. He wasn't sure which room was the bathroom and ended up going to the door further from him. He walked inside and saw it was actually Rody's bedroom. He should have left, he should have just left to find the bathroom once again. However... curiosity got the better of him. The raven looked around.

At the back corner, there was a desk with some paperwork. It looked like it was for the restaurant, but the handwriting was barely eligible. He hummed before he looked at the typewriter, seeing Rody must've been typing out recipes. The shelf beside the desk was filled with books and the Chef's diploma was resting on the top. He walked towards the bedside table, opening the drawer.

A key? Oh, the freezer key! He thought, putting it in his pocket. He closed the drawer and turned towards the window.

"Looking for anything specific~?"

The raven turned around quickly, jumping, "A-Ah, Rody, m-my apologies! I-I was looking for the bathroom!"

"Hm, and when you realized this wasn't the bathroom, you juuuuust...?" Rody trailed off, leaning against the doorframe, one hand on his hip, the other behind his back.

"I wanted to... look out the window." Vincent cleared his throat, "The moon is beautiful and I got distracted."

Rody didn't seem convinced but he smiled, "Well, you can look at the moon from your apartment!"

"...I beg your pardon?"

"Party's over, so you don't have to serve the guests anymore!" Rody smiled, "Come on, I'll walk you out!"

Vincent nodded, leaving the bedroom. Rody walked him out and Vincent went home, the two bidding one another a good night.

***

Vincent came into work the next day, setting up the tables and cleaning what he needed to before going to the kitchen. He didn't see Rody anywhere, which was odd. He went to the office door and knocked, only to get no response. The door was locked but, seemingly, no one was inside. I need to return the freezer key. Vincent thought. He looked around and wondered how the chef's were going to cook if the freezer was locked. No one was in yet, so, he decided to unlock the freezer.

Curiosity once again got the better of him. He began looking around, seeing blood. It wasn't too abnormal, it was probably from the animal meet. As he glanced around, he saw something sparkle. 

Vincent turned his head to the meet grinder. He blinked, walking towards it and picking up a golden locket. He began to shake as he opened it, eyes widening as he saw the picture inside.

Him.

Him and him.

Him and Gabriel.

"Oh-" He shook more, "O-Oh god, oh god-!" He fell to his knees, tears coming to his eyes, "G-Gabriel, n-no, no-!"

THUNK!

***

Vincent's eyes fluttered opened for a second, confused. He blinked before his eyes widened, realizing what was going on. He laid on the freezer floor, tied in ropes. Oh, oh god, oh god, oh god-! He struggled in the ropes, looking around desperately.

"Shit, shit, shitshitshitshit-!" Vincent struggled more, "He-! O-Oh my god, he-!" He struggled, "C-Come on!" 

The ropes were too tight, he was unable to break out. Luckily, he was able to reach into his pocket, grabbing the matches he had stashed in there. Never thought smoking would save my life! Vincent thought, managing to light the match. It was a struggle, but he burned enough of the ropes to get his wrists free, breaking the rest off. He looked around, I-I need to get out of here! Vincent stood and pushed on the freezer door.

Locked.

Of course. He shivered, the cold affecting his body. With how cold it was, he couldn't focus on pushing the door open, his strength would be useless. He looked around, turning the saw on, allowing it to cut the animal meet down to the bone. He dragged over some bags of flour to stand and reach the freezer fans and pushed the animal bones in, effectively breaking them. With his body no longer focusing on the cold, he tried the door again. He pushed and pushed and pushed, slamming his body into the door. Eventually, he broke the window on the freezer door, hissing as the glass cut his arm. He reached for the handle and freed himself. He stood there for a second, taking it all in. He went to run around the stoves, not wanting to run past Rody's office to escape to the front door.

Unfortunately, the commotion seemed to alarm the redhead, as he emerged from his office with a stone, cold, murderous look on his face.

Vincent stepped away, "R-Rody, we can talk about this-!"

The redhead didn't listen, running towards him.

Fast-! "D-DON'T COME ANY CLOSER-!" Vincent screamed, trying to run away.

Rody grabbed him by the shoulder and leaned towards him. He bit at his ear and tugged, Vincent screaming and pushing him off. Vincent stumbled back, holding his ear.

Or, rather, where it once was.

Rody stood in front of him, nibbling on Vincent's ear like it was a chew toy.

Vincent held his head, "A-Ahhh... Ahhhh-!" He screamed as the pain came rushing to him, tears falling down his cheeks, "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

Rody blinked, giggling as he spat out the ear, wiping the blood from his mouth.

"I-I DON'T EVEN KNOW W-WHAT TO SAY!" Vincent screamed, holding his head, "H-HOW COULD YOU-?! F-FOOD?! OUT OF THAT?! I-Is all your food-?!"

"No, of course not, don't be silly~!" Rody giggled, "That's so gross, I'd never serve that in my kitchen!"

"B-But my ear-! You just-!"

"Oh, please, it would have been better cooked!"

"S-So you do eat-!"

"Meh, not really." The redhead twiddled with a corkscrew in his hand, "I hate eating, I can't stand it. Everything I eat, it always tastes bitter. But then you-! You showed up, begging for a job!" He laughed, "You, who Manon had tried to ruin after finding out you weren't interested!"

"Y-You-! You know her?!"

"Of course, she's my ex." Rody licked his lips, "She dumped me for a serious guy she met at daddy's office. But then, she caught that man kissing another man and, since daddy was a biiiiiiiig homophobe, she threatened to blow his cover~! When both men quit and ran, hiding from her, she came crawling back for a second chance! Oh, and her second chance was glorious! Called serious man's little boytoy and allowed me to make two dishes!"

Vincent watched as Rody held up a plate, a dead plate.

The redhead smiled, "Would you like to try it?"

"F-Fucking psychopath-!" He glared, "I-I still can't believe you tried-! You were planning to feed me-!" He huffed, "T-Thank g-god I never ate any of the f-food you made!"

"You... haven't?" That seemed to affect the redhead more than anything else, his face falling, looking like a sad, kicked puppy.

But Vincent didn't care, "I-It's all sitting in the fridge! Rotting! I don't need to try them to know they don't taste good! You always made me feel unease, made me lose my appetite, and now I know why!"

The raven ran into the redhead's office, knowing he kept the alcohol in there. He broke one of the bottles, spilling red wine and glass all over the floor. Rody was not far behind, slamming open the door and running towards him. Vincent ducked out of the way, getting back to the kitchen before Rody could stab him. He spun around, the redhead running towards him. The redhead reached for his arm, but Vincent stepped out of the way, stabbing the other in the neck. Rody fumbled and Vincent slammed him against the floor, stabbing his neck again and again with the broken wine bottle.

He panted, sitting on Rody's hips, the redhead still alive, but unable to move, holding his throat, choking on his own blood and glass.

Vincent stared down at him, panting, shaking, dropping the broken bottle as he stood up, stepping back. He blinked, I... I did it... I can't let this happen, not again! H-He needs to be gone, erased! He patted the redhead down, finding the restaurant's key. He then moved to the freezer, looking around and grabbing the cooking oil. Once he had it, he began pouring it all over the kitchen, leaving a trail. As one bottle began to run out, he walked to where Rody was, slamming the bottle beside his head, letting it mix with the redhead's blood.

Rody stared at him before he smiled, coughing a bit, "You... would have... made such... a good... dish..." He choked out.

Vincent didn't bother with a response, opening another bottle, creating a trail to the the front door of the restaurant. Once he did, he took out a match and dropped it next to the oil. He then stepped outside, holding the side of his head as he stumbled across the street. The fire cackled, spreading fast, engulfing everything. He stared, one hand holding the bloodied golden locket that held him and Gabriel in it, the other hold where his ear once was.

...I should get something to eat...

He managed to get a Whiskey Lemon Cake from a nearby restaurant as he waited for the police and ambulance.