#I'm so fucking sorry if you've sent me an ask in the last. two years ashdfksajd. tumblr sure is a site!!!! esp when it DOESN'T WORK LOL

[seventhstrife]

I love your stories on ao3! However, the latest chapter of Safekeeping gave me a question...How old are you depicting Ezio? I've imagined him as early to mid AC2, but I think I've been wrong given your descriptions of him in the paintings and Desmond saying he was visibly older in person than the paintings. Thanks for answering!

this ask, for some reason, is the only alert I've gotten recently from my inbox??? and I have a TON of asks that tumblr just DIDN'T tell me about so. what the hell. LOL

I'll get to those other asks for sure, but to answer THIS one:

your instincts were so so right, I'm depicting Ezio in Safekeeping in his peak brotherhood dilf-era haha, so visibly older than he was at the start of ac2, when he was around 17, I believe? more muscled, facial hair, some silver in his hair—the full package, basically 😂

ezio was already a casanova at the start of ac2, but by brotherhood he was more middle-aged, so that's the age/look I'm picturing him in Safekeeping. as well as most of my fics LOL

desmond, who's only known ezio-the-vampire, would be really aware of the sharp contrast of a teenage ezio (in the portraits) vs vampire ezio, so yeah! not revelations-era just yet haha. I'm just so weak for brotherhood ezio...I am but a simple, humble person...

there's the overly-long (my brand) answer!🤣

thanks so much for reading and for the ask! I love hearing what other people think about my ridiculous fics <333

[carmenized-onions]

Loosen Your Grip. | R & D

logline; even when it seems counter-intuitive.

[!!!] series history; so many parts, so many words.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. 8 hour mark officially! Lets go!

portion; 15k knowing the next chapters, this trend isn't going to change. they have started to line up with the chapter number, to my chagrin.

possible allergies; i think this one is relatively harmless? Stress though. Everyone's stressed. Idk what to tell you man, it's the bear. oh but more things were yoinked from Season 3!! Think that's just gonna be ongoing tbh. also if this is bad don't tell me. tell me it's really good, actually. i've never doubted a chapter more than I do this one.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader it's so fem. it's so she/her'd it's so girl'd i'm so sorry

kofi; if you’ve enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!

i'm so sorry for the delays beloveds, can you say 'most high stress but high reward month and a half of my life'? i can!!!

The Monday morning after New York— The first morning waking up in your own bed in a day or two— Comes rudely. Well, not immediately. First you have to roll over and grab aimlessly at your nightstand, searching for your phone to turn off your alarm. Through blurred vision you slide it to snooze, and as you debate going back to bed, your eyes glaze over some texts you’ve received in your sleep, from numbers you never bothered to put in your contacts. It takes a minute to absorb the information and register it as real, but once you do—

“...Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

—You’re definitely not gonna be heading back to bed anymore. You’re wide-eyed and wired— You can probably skip coffee this morning. Maybe every morning forever.

“Oh— I fucking hate this fucking city, I fucking hate Chicago— Fuck this!” 

In lieu of coming to terms with your world shattering news, perhaps this is an important moment to express gratitude, for the things that have gone well in the past few days. 

The rest of the weekend in New York was as lovely as a last-minute trip in a cramped car full of kitchen equipment and four neurotics can be.

Gratitude. Highlight reel?

There’s a bag M and Ms monogrammed with Syd’s, Richie’s, Carmy’s, and your faces in your pantry now. Eva shouldn’t be the only one allowed to have fun. Though snacking on all your cute little faces does make you feel like a slight monster.

Managed to get a good gift for Richie. Thank you Tiffanys. It was certainly an interesting moment when everyone tried to come up with lame excuses as to why they had to split up from the group to definitely totally not go get Christmas presents.

 Carmen’s knife guy wasn’t able to do engravings on such short notice, and you’re not the type to settle for less, especially not with Syd, so that’ll be a next year gift, it seems. You came up with a serviceable back-up while strolling through the MET— Which was a mostly fun field trip, it was very inspiring. You all could've done without Richie's pretentious prattling about postmodern absurdist dadaism. Mostly because you're pretty sure half of it was wrong; but still a good trip, all told.

Still lost on what to get Carmen… You’ve got a week, it’s fine. You’ve done more with less before. How do you subtly ask a guy, ‘hey, what the hell else do you like besides your job?’ You’ll figure it out. Figure it out like you figure out everything else, like you always do. Hopefully.

It's Monday. You've got a week. It's fine. Stop looking at your phone. This is such bad timing. This is awful fucking timing. You’ll figure it out. Stop looking at your phone, stop looking at the texts. Do the Connections, send it to Carmy, he already sent his, be normal… Just such bad timing—

At the very least if you can't bear to look away from the life ruining texts, just shut your phone off. You’ve got to stop ruminating or you’ll rot in bed forever. And you really have to get out on time, today. 

“God wants me to kill myself—” Gratitude. Express gratitude.

The drive back went ‘well’. Everyone had their licenses so the squad took shifts either driving or sitting on the uncomfortable console. Or, in your case specifically, sitting half on Carmen’s lap in shotgun on occasion despite the many complaints from Syd and Richie. You had a good excuse! Neither of you slept for the entire trip just to work on the cocktail and coffee menu. It was practically a sacrifice! It was just easier to sit up front together, okay!? You had to be close, you were scribbling ratios and drawings of glasses into a stolen notepad from the Holiday Inn with pencil crayons bought from FAO Schwarz—

Oh, hey, put that on the gratitude scoreboard, that was another thing that went well. Pretty cool to go to the oldest toy store in America. Might not have gotten the chef in your life anything yet, but the kids in your life are covered— You’re winning best Aunt for sure.

Oh, huge highlight�� Didn’t say love you, like some idiot. Got away with that by the skin of your teeth, honestly. Hard to stare up at the Rockefeller Christmas Tree next to the guy and not blurt out something fucking stupid. Thank God for Syd, who stomped on your foot when you seemed a little too doe eyed.

With great pain and bemoaning, you finish expressing gratitude, which hasn’t helped much. You slam your phone screen down on your nightstand and roll out of bed. 

Today’s Monday. Today’s your first day at The Bear. Today that is the priority and there is nothing else to worry about.

You signed your contract last night. Talked to Syd for hours about it, planning next steps and goals and classes and budgets and a million other things. You’re both a little easily excitable, when it comes to lists and plans. Watching you sign yours gave her the ‘confidence’ to sign hers, if you can call it that. Not like you knew she needed the help, though.

“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life…” If you keep saying it while washing your face in the bathroom, it’ll become true, right? …Where’s Sara’s card again?

The Bear doesn’t run service on Mondays, so it’s a good day to do onboarding— Good day to do R and D. …What does one wear to R and D? Don’t need the serving uniform. Don’t need to dress up. Don’t need the jumpsuit… This is the first time you don’t need a uniform and that is bizarre.

You’ll wear your dad’s flannel, at least. Feels illegal to not wear the patch worked flannel. But besides that, you’re just a normal… restaurateur… part of the team…

Your hand hovers over where your necklace sits, in the small jewellery box on your vanity. “Mikey, if you want me to keep wearing it, make my ceiling cave in or some shit.”

You give it ten seconds and nothing falls. With a curt nod to no one, you pick up your book bag filled with loose tools and the menu filled notepad. Leave your bedroom, put your shoes on, grab your keys out of your clay dish tray on the way out.

It’s snowing.

That’s a lot of stuff falling, so to speak.

That’s basically a sign. That’s basically what you asked for.

You head back in, grab the necklace, hook it over your neck, and tuck it under your shirt. Baby steps. You head back out.

…And then soon after, head back in— Forgetting one of the most important things you need today. “The fucking glass, goddamn it!”

There’s a chance that today might be a little bit of an off day for you. No one’s gonna notice that, though.

“Mikey, why didn’t you tell me? You want me to look stupid on my start day, don't you? Fucker.”

You’re good. You’re you. You figure shit out. You’re compartmentalising perfectly and no one’s gonna be able to tell that you’re internally scrambling to figure out where you're gonna live once your lease gets terminated.

“ ‘Sup with you?” Okay, so Tina did immediately notice upon opening the back door for you. She tries to help you with the huge sheet of plexiglass you’re carrying, but you wave her off, stumbling further inside The Bear. Thankfully it’s a slow start to the morning, so the walk way is clear for your fumbled steps.

“I got it, T, just spot me—”

“Woahwoahwoah—” But alas, immediately Carmen is rushing over, making a big deal over nothing, “Fuck are you doin?” And grabs the thick sheet of glass from you. “Wait by your car next time, why do I gotta keep tellin’ you?”

“I am very capable—” You grunt, but you’re relieved when he takes the weight off you. You nod to the table in front of expo. “Put it on the island.”

“What’s it for?” Carmy asks but he follows direction without hesitation.

“Syd’s idea.” You walk with him, sidling up to Syd who’s already stationed up on the island with what looks like way too much paperwork for Chefs. You bump her shoulder as a greeting, she bumps you back. She lifts up the stack of papers and you pick up her deli container of Coke and ice, letting Carmen slide the glass onto the table.

“Unless it’s bad—” You correct, putting the cup down and digging through the tool bag on your shoulder for the right parts. “If you hate it, then it’s my idea.”

Syd snorts next to you, putting the papers back down on top of the glass. “Nice save.”

“What’s your idea, Chef?” Carmen taps his fingers against the glass, bemused.

You finally fish out two lock hinges from your bag, gesturing to them with a little flair like you’re Vanna White as Sydney explains. “For R and D. Thought since we’re like— Constantly changing shit and needing to review, it’d be like, useful to have a whiteboard— But those are huge and inconvenient for a restaurant— Duh— So—”

“Glass!” You come in with the assist as she rambles on. “On hinges— These one’s lock so you can have the glass sort of tilted up like an easel, or on the station— And then when you start service you can just flip it down off the counter for the night. Easy!”

“And—And—” Like a TV ad, Syd points out, “We can put paper under it and still be able to see— So it’ll make editing clearer— I-I think.”

Carmen always takes a nerve-wracking amount of time to think through other’s ideas, but once he nods, you both breathe easy. “Smart idea. Thank you, Chefs.”

You just smile, and this seems to bother Carm. Or at the very least, something is bothering him, as he frowns. “You got a second?”

Your brows furrow, for a moment, worried. You nod, putting your tools down. Glass can wait. “Always.”

Carmen comes around the counter, before he pulls you aside, Syd whispers over your shoulder, “Trouble in paradise.” Making you snort. When has it ever been paradise?

The two of you lean across from each other in the doorway of Carmen’s office, not quite in, not quite out. He looks worried, and his worrying is making you worry. He’s first to say something, concerned hand on your shoulder.

“Are you good?”

Fuck, he caught you too? “Hmm? Yeah, I’m good, do I not—”

You’re halfway through your response when he interrupts, he seems even more panicked by your words. His hand abandons your shoulder. “Right— Stupid, stupid fucking question— I just— Sorry—”

“Woah—” You grip both his shoulders, rubbing down his sleeves lightly. “Are you good, Carmy? You’re right, sweets. You caught me. I’m a lil’ off today. What gave me away?”

“Right, yes— You’re nice.” He’s saying it more to himself than you, like he needs to remind himself. Even so, it still hitches your heartbeat. “I— I’m good, I was just—You didn’t text me back this morning.”

“Oh.” You say it so breathlessly, with relief. It’s cute that that’s what’s got him freaking. “Sorry, yeah, I’ve been trying to not look at my phone, I just got some…” You shake your hand in the air for effect. “Bleh news. Put a wrench in some things for me, that’s all.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Ah—” You shake your head, waving it off, “Too much to get into. Later, though?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whenever you want.” He nods. “Ah, I wanna get into uhm—” Carmen snaps his fingers a few times, finding the words. “Get into drinks, today. I made all the concentrates and syrups ahead of time—But Uncles gonna come in first with The Computer to go over some numbers shit— Should be here in thirty?”

You nod, squinting. “Is it like… A special computer or something?”

“Computer is a guy.” Carmen says, while Syd yells the same in tandem with him, “Why wouldn’t he be!?” Walking past you both as she carries produce out of the walk-in.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” You grin, reiterating. Your smile soon sobers though, as you finally notice a giant silver blob of machinery behind Carmen. “Baby, what the fuck is that?” 

You’re already walking past him, quickly winding up all over again. It’s a gorgeous espresso machine— “It’s an Ascaso.” Explains Carmen. “It’s the best.” And it’s sitting exactly where your beautiful beat up mistake of a heavily-stained coffee machine used to be. 

“Baby, baby, baby—” you’re looking above and below the station for your rusted companion, hushed and panicked. “Don’t tell me you threw away the old one—” 

“You want the old one?”

Richie’s timing is perfect, as he walks in from front of house, and even from just hearing the last sentence, “Fuckin’ told you, Carm.” He knows the context. He keeps walking— On a mission, seemingly.

“I’m grateful— I- I am.” You kneel down and shove some mixing bowls aside to see if it was tucked in the back of some shelf— It’s not here. She’s not here. “New is good— New is nice— I’ll learn how to use the new one— I will— But— I— I need the old one— You didn’t throw it away, did you?” 

When he stays silent, you turn and look up to Carmen from where you’re crouched on the ground, pleading. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I— I—” The Chef is nearly sweating from this line of questioning alone. “It— It barely worked—”

“I know it didn’t! That’s the point!”

He blinks. You just seem to be saying all his trigger phrases, today, huh? “That’s the point?”

“I knew how she worked.” You push yourself back up onto your feet. “It’s got an espresso function that doesn’t work, if you tamp the basket the basket literally breaks off so you have to hold it and burn your hand a little— You have to hold the hot water button at the same time as the grind button for some reason or it won’t dispense— It’s literally a fucking nightmare— I covered it in like ten sticky notes of instructions at one point and they became pointless because no one but me was willing to use it. And— And I’ve got it memorized.”

“...And you want that?”

“No one’s gonna know how to take care of her, she’s my baby!” You gesture, albeit a bit too dramatically, speaking with your hands. “If you throw her away or donate her, no one’s gonna take the time to figure it out— They’re just gonna think she’s broken but she’s not, she works! She just needs the right hand!”

A dull silence falls between you, as Carmen purses his lips, squinting. There’s an ever slight chance your ‘I’m totally fine’ facade is cracking. “...Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your thing right—” 

“I’m good!” “...Okay.” “Did you get rid of her?”

“Relax, Handy!” Carmen does not say this. 

You grimace, looking behind Carmen to see Chi-Chi yelling from around the bend, in The Beef’s corner territory. Looking over him with the blue apron calling you your least favourite nickname by far— Well, second least favourite, only to— “She’s over here, Jack-Off. More our speed than rich boy’s ack - queso bullshit…” It’s nostalgic. Bad nostalgic but nostalgic. 

He slaps the top of the machine, you and Carmen both wince as a random spigot falls off it. Chi-Chi clicks his tongue, staring at it in silence. “...Refresher would be good, though.”

You’re already walking back to your damaged darling, patting Carmen on the shoulder as a form of goodbye, he pats your hand back. You don’t get to see him smile, as he watches you get to work. “Don’t fuckin’ call me Jack-Off and don’t touch her, I’ll show you, I’ll break your hand Cheech, I swear—”

The man in question shrugs, a devilish and terrible smirk on his stupid face. “Ey, love a woman in charge. Show me the ways.” 

Even on your most off days, working with The Beef will always be second nature for you. Even when the space is significantly more cramped than it used to be. 

You rewrite directions on how to use the coffee machine while showing them to Ebra and Chi-Chi. Ebra tends not to learn new tricks, so he stops listening by the time you get to syrups. That’s fine. No one ordered syrups in their coffee at The Beef back in the day all that often either.

Mikey really shouldn’t have invested in all those syrups back then. He really only did it for you and the staff. To be fair, when he did convince regulars to try your coffee they always changed their tune. The people don’t know what they like yet. They will like this. You were his proof that that idea was true.

“You gotta toss these, Boss. Slows you down.” You overhear Cheech saying behind you. You turn to see his arm on Ebra’s shoulder, holding the small blue baskets for sandwiches in his other hand. “Just the wrapping is fine. These people are gonna throw this shit out anyways, waste of plastic.”

Cheech turns his head to you, “Right, Handy?”

“...Don’t call me Handy.” Don’t freak out about throwing the old stuff away. Don’t freak out about throwing his old stuff away. You shrug, looking at Ebra over your shoulder. “Maybe just offer them, if they ask for one?”

“Y’know what the people are asking for, babe?” Cheech sucks his teeth, pulling Ebra closer, who looks nonplussed. “They’re asking where the nearest brick is to throw through our window. This rich people shit is getting on their nerves.”

You sigh, eyes flitting to Ebra for confirmation. “Yeah?”

He shrugs, nodding. “Ninety-eight percent, Jack-Off.” Cheech and the gang have been a terrible influence. How are you going to undo this?

“C’mon, E…” You scoff, but nod as you turn around, arms crossed. Gesturing with the frother as you do. “Well, I’ll make note of that. Now back to the fuckin’ hand frother, Cheech?”

“I know how to crank it, Handy—” “I swear to fucking God—”

“Ey!” Tina comes up to your corner, smacking the back of Chi-Chi’s head with a hand towel when she does. “Don’t talk to the baby like that, clean your mouth.”

He puts one hand on the back of his head, hissing, and another up in front of him, in defense. “Ey, T, it’s all love, aright? Playing!”

“Yeah well, you’re not gonna wanna play wit’ this one. ‘Specially not now—” She nudges you, smiling that coy ‘I’m about to blow up your spot’ smile.

You grimace, attempting to interrupt her. “T, don’t—” “That she’s Jeff’s.” “—Goddamnit.”

“Oh! Oh shit!” Cheech laughs, delightfully shocked. “You finally closed on Charmin’? Congrats—” It’s a blessing and a curse that Carmen, the guy you only ever saw in photos and heard in stories that you had a very minor and not vocal crush on, is now your… boyfriend? Undetermined.

You wave a hand in his face, “Shut the fuck up—”

“So where should I send flowers?”

You hate this family. “For the record, I have not closed shit.”

“What’s closing?” Tina takes a half step back, surveying your face, it doesn’t reveal anything. “What’s that? Gramps?” She turns her question on Ebra, who shrugs, equally as old and unknowing. 

“Well Jack-Off’s a little Mother Mary for my taste—”

You scoff, “So not true, for the record—” but Chi-Chi continues his tirade. “So I suspect she just means they haven't had the ‘are we datey-wating carmy baby?’ talk.”

You all but growl, crossing your arms as you wait for the second tutorial coffee to finish dispensing from the beloved whirring machine behind you. You can get the fuck out of here as soon as it’s done, and you’re praying that’s soon, because this interrogation is about to turn terrible. “We are currently unlabelled, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

Tina kisses her teeth, poking at your shoulder. “Richie told me you spent the whole wedding together and you come back with no label?”

You sigh, composure falling apart. You are not ready for a mother’s disappointment. “We talked out a lot of important stuff—” “Mija, that is important stuff!”

“I just— We’ll talk eventually—” 

Chi-Chi conveniently interrupts you when it looks like Tina’s about to go off into a full rant on the downfall of romance in modern relationships. “So you’re still on the market, Handy?”

“For you?” You smile, then drop it. Pushing your hand against his forehead. “Never. Now froth the fucking milk.”

He mumbles an endless series of expletives, but gets to work. You give him a quick tutorial on the hand frother— You fought hard for the old machine, but you are overjoyed to see an automated steamer and frother on that Ascaso. That part is gonna be a dream. You can make so many new drinks for Carm— The menu. 

When you finish, you take the latte from Cheech to hand to Tina; and when you do, you catch her looking… off. She’s staring at the piled up diner baskets, next to the unused napkin dispensers. 

You put your hand on her shoulder, massaging it lightly. “You good, T?”

Your hand shocks her back into reality, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, baby.” It takes her a second to remember where she is. She takes the latte, nodding. “I’m good. You good?”

“I’ve got my complaints.” You shrug. “But nothing I won’t survive.” Probably.

Tina takes a sip of her coffee, continuing to nod. She wants to dig deeper into your thing, you want to dig deeper into hers, but the painful groaning from the front of the kitchen, “And when did I fuckin’ greenlight this?” interrupts both your trains of thought. Uncle Jimmy tends to have that effect.

With a knowing nod, you walk together to the front, leaving Ebra and Cheech to continue experimenting with the coffee machine before they open their side of the restaurant. 

You watch from the sidelines as Carmen defends his choices, “The old one was shit, she was burning her hands on it. She’ll need the three groups to keep up.” and you’re able to quickly glean they’re talking about the new espresso machine.

“Okay, I hear that,” Jimmy nods, “but why the fuck did it need to be ten grand?”

“Ten?!” You can’t help but shout, you slap your hand over your mouth. Budget is none of your business. But fucking ten? You part your fingers to mumble through your hand,  “Sorry, continue.”

Carmen cares too much about your drink menu. Berzattos tend to invest too much into your special interests. Though this time, instead of syrups, and in addition to a 10k coffee machine, you see on the stainless steel table your shared sketches laid out alongside all the ingredients needed– Including the concentrates, whips, and other compounds Carmen made ahead of time for you. He’s so sweet. God, you love him. God, that’s disgusting. They have all, of course, been haphazardly shoved aside though, to make room for The Computer’s— Computer. Carmy’s nonplussed by that fact, it seems.

Jimmy gestures to you, deadpanning to Carm. “See, Chip understands the power of the dollar.”

“I’m not involved.” You add, waving your hand, it’s a terrible moment for your favouritism to shine through. Though you do enter the radius of this trainwreck of a quarterly review, kneeling down by the kitchen island to finish what you started with the plexiglass and hinges. “Ignore me, continue.”

The men stand on either side of you, as you bolt down the hinges. Carmen brushes off the dollar comment with a simple, “It’s the best.”

Why do you need the best? You think; Jimmy concurs with your brain, speaking for both of you. “Why do you need the best?”

The question seems to make no sense to Carmen. He freezes, blue-screening. “Cause—”

You duck your head under the counter at just the right moment— Or just the wrong moment? Because you don’t get to see Carmen looking down at you, then back up at his uncle. “Because.” 

You don’t see Uncle Jimmy practically roll not just his eyes but his entire body back into himself, witnessing the puppy love that is going to ruin his credit score. “Chip…”

When you slide yourself out from under the counter, Carmen puts his hand on the edge of the counter to make sure you don’t hit your head— Because you have an awful tendency to do so. You’re too focused on the way Uncle Jimmy says your name like you’re in trouble to notice though. “What’d I do?” 

“You’re you.” Jimmy grimaces, shaking his head. It’s not your fault. Not completely. “F-Y-I– Your boss just cut your bar budget by ten grand.”

“Hm.” You squint, lips in a line. “And what do I do if the budget I was planning was just ten grand?”

“Well respect yourself more than that.” Cicero scoffs, arms crossed. “Take twenty, now you’re back to ten. You’re welcome.”

“Generosity knows no bounds.” You shake your head, laughing him off as you duck your head back under the counter. “Thank you, Unc.”

“Sorry, who exactly are we giving twenty thousand?” 

“Oh fuck—” Despite Carmen’s best efforts, you still manage to bump your head on the roof of the counter, alarmed by the new voice— The Computer, you assume. “Fuckin—Ow— Sorry! Y’know what, hol’ on, let me just finish up here—”

“It’s the drink budget. Tony’s the new mixologist.” Natalie answers for you. “And sommelier.”

“Ah,” hums The Computer. “She’s the one we’re paying Quarter-Master for?”

“Nah, that’s me.” Gary strolls by, calling out to wherever his manager has gone, “Richie, you find that book yet?!”

“I’m taking them too!” You finally pop your head out from underneath the counter, finished bolting in the hinges. “Apparently I need actual W-S-E-T certification and a bunch of memorized google searches, youtube videos, and wine review blogs do not legally make you a sommelier.”

“I think it’s impressive you made it this far on basically nothing.” Syd taps the top of your head, she’s the one who made the call on schooling. She looks to her co-owner. “Classes are coming out of the advanced.”

“So is this.” You tap the plexiglass, nodding up to Carmen as well. “You’re workin’ with like… A thousand left for pre-paid work?”

“Hm.” Carmen nods, looking at The Computer, and you turn your head to him too. “Did you account for that?”

“Did I account for a thousand dollars?”

Carmen shakes his head like a white flag immediately, hearing the sarcastic tone, “Alright, you don’t—”

“A thousand dollars does not take you out of the hole, man.” He’s right, but you don’t love the tone. He tilts his head, reading something off his screen. “Payroll is a little high, for a somme.”

“I don’t disagree—” You try to say, because yeah, your contract does have a weirdly high salary.

But Jimmy, Nat, and Carm all speak over you. “It’s not.”

“That’s not pay for a somme, that’s a pay for Chip, you don’t need to enhance on that.” Jimmy deads the topic then and there. “You’ll see. Just trust me. You were sayin’ somethin about tiny plants?”

“Microgreens.” Says Syd. 

“Yes. Do less of that.”

And you just watch, from the sidelines, as this crew flows into a bit of a repetitive we’re doing this, which gains the response, well stop. Do less, charge more, figure it out, duh, don’t duh– What’s that you’re hearing about a daily changing menu? Carmen seems to be the only one campaigning for it. At a point he just starts pacing, pointing at numbers on The Computer’s screen that he doesn’t understand but pretends he does.

You’ve got a million ideas, but it’s none of your business. It very literally isn’t your business, until Jimmy turns his head just so, grimacing at the non stop debate, to see you standing aside, arms crossed.

He sighs, beckoning you to the table, like it’s a witness stand. “What’s that fuckin’ face on your face, kid?” Oh, for the love of God, why are you so easy to read?

You pfft, shrugging. “I’m not makin’ a face—!” But you come forward nonetheless as he boldly speaks over you. 

“You’re makin’ a face,” — “This is just what I look like,” — “Y’know how I know you’re makin’ a face?” — “Enlighten me.” — “Cause it’s the same fuckin’ face—”

He takes this moment to point at the face on your face. “That your dad makes.” A man that gambles as well as Cicero is a man that knows your dad’s tells. And a man that knows your dad’s tells is a man that knows your tells. 

You bite down on your inner cheek, poorly pretending to be confused, shrugging again, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come off it.” “I’m not on anything, Unc—” “You’ve got a problem, say it.” 

“I don’t have a problem!” You have a lot of problems, but they can’t know that. That makes you judgy and pushy— You don’t know enough about the business to have an opinion. “I’m just observing, that’s all.”

Uncle looks up, to Heaven, to Mikey, and sighs the world’s heaviest sigh. It sounds painful. When he finally tilts his head back down to you, it’s to say, “C-K.”

“Cicero.”

“Y’know why I’m able to pour mas queso into this fuckin’ kid?” He loosely gestures in the direction of Carmen, who in response seems to bite down a lot of venom. It’s bad to think he’s pretty when he’s annoyed, isn’t it?

You tilt your head, “Honestly, I always assumed some sort of mob association.”

Jimmy holds back his laughter, it comes out as a disgruntled cough. He shrugs. “It’s because when I saw your dad at the table, makin’” —He gestures to you— “That fuckin’ face, I knew to pull back.”

“You don’t need to pull back.” Your reply is a touch too panicked and instant for anyone’s liking, makes it a little less believable. But Cicero smirks, and you know that face as well as he knows yours. Check. He’s got you. 

“Then speak on it.” And he pushes you forward, just slightly, like a slap of support on your back. You grimace, looking to Carm and Syd for permission to have opinions, and they both nod, like it’s obvious. With great hesitation, lips pressed together, you finally allow yourself to come off as judgy, opinionated, a fixer. 

“I think the chargers are kinda stupid.”

A plate no one eats off of, that they still have to clean, that’s on top of another plate? Definitely super necessary. Definitely not some rich people NOMA bullshit.

You look to Syd, apologetic. She shrugs, open mouthed, head tilted, “I– I mean, I didn’t invent them.” 

“It’s presentation.” Carmen nods, to himself. He doesn’t like to budge. “That first look at the table affects everything.”

“Yes.” You nod, directly across the counter from him. “I agree, I just think the plates are stupid.” 

“You got somethin’ better?”

“Think so.” You hum, tilting your body back to yell to the back of the restaurant. “Ay, Cheech! Pass me a fuckin’ basket!” 

It’s without hesitation that you hear, “Hut!” before even seeing the man. You see the blue basket being hurled towards you before you see the man. You catch it, albeit a bit clumsy, but you catch it. 

You toss the basket on the table. Everyone stares. You defend yourself before anyone even criticizes it, “Easier to clean than plates, because you just need to rinse the plastic. Ties together a colour scheme, costs nothing, they’re gonna be tossed anyways.”

“It looks cheap.” Carmen tuts, but he really does seem to be trying to hear out the idea, despite his reservations. 

“It looks purposeful.” You double down, leaning on the counter just so, “It carries a story, that we didn’t forget where we started.”

“Ooh.” Marcus, clocking in just in time, hums behind you. “Kind of a bar, Chef.”

“Thank you, Chef. Morning, Chef.” You fist bump him over your shoulder, not looking. Too focused on convincing the man before you, you let him think in silence for some time before asking. “Think on it?”

“No.” Carmen shakes his head, and you’re a little crestfallen, for a second. “It’s good. Let’s do the baskets, yeah—” He then remembers to ask for permission, he turns his head to Syd, “Yeah?”

“Yeah? Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah. Baskets are good.” Syd nods to Nat. “Can you look into, uh—”

“Returning the expensive as fuck earthenware shit? Happily.” Nat is far too cheery upon receiving a paperwork rabbit hole of a mission. She brushes past you, excitedly whispering, “Please keep going.”

“Oh, uh—” Are you some sort of thought leader now? “Well, uhm, I think I heard you sayin’” —You snap your fingers at The Computer, “That R and D cost is a little high?”

“A lot high.” He corrects.

“Kid with crayons.” Jimmy tuts, “Need to pull back a little.”

Carmen’s screwing and unscrewing the cap of a mason jar— Marmalade, it’s for Syd’s drink. He made it this morning, it’s labelled down to the minute.  Just let him work on his fucking drinks menu, please God. He’s been dying for this moment and it’s being thrown off by this bullshit. 

He can’t keep biting his tongue, “Hey, uh, why don’t you just tell us to do everything a little bit less so we can skip this and get back to work, huh?”

You hear Uncle Jimmy inhale as preparation to verbally beat Carmen’s ass. You put one hand up in front of the old man’s face, the other hand grabs a dry-erase marker. “He didn’t mean it like that and he apologizes, Unc.”

“Does he now?”

“He does.” You drop your hand, focusing on lifting the glass panel, clicking the locks in place to keep it up. You nod to Carmen through the pane. “Right, Carmy?”

Poor Carmen nearly deflates, “...I’m tryna be the guy.” 

“Not what the guy does, baby boy.” You hum, uncapping the marker with your teeth. You turn your head to Cicero. “Guy had a lapse, he forgot you were his boss and just thought of you as family, so he spoke to you like family, cause he loves you, Unc.”

Cicero nods, tilting his head just so at Carmen. “S’that right?”

Carm manages to shake his head and nod all at the same time, “S’a facet.” 

“....Well, just don’t do it again.” A crisis is averted and an uncle is softened. 

“I love to see a family come together.” You hum, nonchalant, writing on the glass, ‘R & D - Cost: Bad’

“Bring it from bad to good.” The Computer notes very helpfully. “You can cut—”

“Hol’ on.” You put your index finger up, effectively shushing him, “Just think about it first. We don’t have to go straight to cutting. Let’s look at our options.”

“Your options are fucked.”

“Just—” You tut, rubbing the bridge of your nose, man, you really are becoming your dad right now. Loosen your grip, Jack. “Widen the scope. We cut costs through returning those chargers— How else can we ‘return’ shit? Carmy?”

Thank God you’re the guy, because Carm can’t hack it. “Heard? Yes?” And frankly, he doesn’t want to.

“What’s the main cost on R and D?”

“Supplies. Food— Y’know, lot of trial and error.” He nods to a bus tub filled with failed attempts over this morning’s session. But you like that, right? “Trying new things, y’know?”

“...Carmen.” He doesn’t answer, because he can hear he’s in trouble. He is staring at you stare at the tub in what seems like a sort of contemplative, serene, searing anger. “Sweetheart, are those four wagyu filets in a fuckin’ bus tub?”

“Yes, it’s got a blood orange reduction, but– But Syd suggested mint—” 

You don’t let him finish, “Is it poison?”

“It’s not.” “It’s edible?” “It is.” “Okay, so then, babydoll, why is it not being eaten?”

Syd winces from the sidelines, hissing under her breath, fist over her mouth. Carmen cannot help but notice. You’re perhaps… a dash upset.

“We can’t eat everything.” “Did you offer it to the crew?” “Yeah—” “You offered it to Nat, Unc, Cheech— All the servers? Or did you just offer it to the cooks?” “...Heard.” “Did you take a bite of all of these?” “Not all.”

You start writing on the glass again, explaining as you do, “Okay. So then uneaten food from R and D should be sold on one of those fuckin’ food waste apps— Too Good to Go, or somethin’. We advertise it to The Beef regulars, try to get the other side of our city to understand the finer things, prevent any brick through window incidents, how we feel ‘bout that?”

You remember small things far too well. You did make note of the rich people shit getting on The Beef customers' nerves. You make note of the people who live on your block, who cannot afford to eat here. You make note of the fact that Carmen resents subtracting with a passion now, so you find another way. He can still try new things, just needs to handle the results better. 

“...You keep a binder or somethin?” Is all Carmen can think to ask. 

“Steel trap memory.” You tap the cap of the marker to your head, “Good though?”

He nods, “Good.”

“Good.” You take a breath, dragging a hand down your face, practically coming out of a fugue state. Carmen knows your need to have something to do, just as much as him, so he slides the jar of fig marmalade to you from across the table. You take it happily, unscrewing the lid. You’ve also been dying to get to this menu.

But Richie comes up from behind, scratch and sniff wine book in hand— Didn’t Mikey get you that? It  was meant to be a gag gift but it’s actually quite useful. “Chip, can you also tell Chef Carmen the daily menu fuckin’ sucks?”

“Re-lax.” You sigh, pulling over all the ingredients and tools you need for Syd’s drink. “Syd told me ‘bout this though, daily pre fixe, or whatever it’s called?”

“It’s—” Carmen crosses his arms over himself, immediately defensive but trying his best not to be. “It’s an idea I’m floating, for now— It’s what the best restaurants do, and— And even if we don’t have full intent on getting a star, right now, it’s still important.”

“I just think…” You hum, trying to figure out the most delicate way to say it. “It doesn’t exactly give you the most room to collaborate or create—”

“The whole point of it is to collaborate and create—”

“Oh yes,” —As if waiting in the wings for this, Richie pops out behind you again, “What wasssit? ‘Vibrant Collaboration’ and ‘Constantly Evolve Through Eating My Own Head like a fucking ouroboros’.”

“Relax.” You hiss this time, putting a hand up in front of Richie. You can speak for yourself. “You don’t have time to be creative or collaborate when you’ve gotta make decisions in less than twelve hours.”

Carmen tries to defend, he gestures to the one good plate of wagyu with mint that came out of this morning, “But the—”

You nod and hum, knowingly. The sweet sound stops him. You already know the answer, but you ask anyway, as you scoop fig marmalade into your cocktail shaker. “Did you get to try the pop rocks thing yet?”

“Well, no, it’s not viable to perfect that in such—”

“A short amount of time, angel?”

“Oooh…” Richie mimics Syd’s movements, air whistling between his teeth as he takes a sharp breath. He gestures, standing behind you, staring at Carmen as he slides his thumb across his neck. He mouths, ‘Mad mad.’

Carmen’s two closest friends are freaking him the fuck out and one of them wasn’t even doing it on purpose. How do they know that? How can they tell that? Are you gonna break up with him? Are you even dating? This work together thing was a terrible idea—

“You don’t have time to be thoughtful about things, if you do an entire menu every day, you’re gonna have to cut corners on what you’re willing to experiment with.” You reword, more productive, better for his brain. “Plus, prix fixe is a fuckin— In—In my opinion, is sort of a lacking idea, maybe, for a new restaurant.”

Carmen’s willing to give up the daily rotation, he’s not so willing to give up the pre fixe. “It’s what the best restaurants do.” Carmen loves the word best, huh?

“Have those restaurants—” You bite your tongue from what was going to be an immediate catty response.

You try again, measuring out orange liqueur and lemon juice as you do so. “You’re thinking like a Chef and you need to think like a customer— A- A guest, for a second.”

Carmen gives you the floor, mostly because he cannot compute the command. You continue, “Let’s do a little roleplay, alright? Let’s say we’re just average people, not workin’ at The Bear, and we’re goin’ on a date.”

“When?” “...When?” “When is the date?” “No, I’m— It’s— This is hypothetical.” “Yeah but in the hypothetical.”

You shrug, clicking tongs together as you grab large chunks of ice for your shaker. “I dunno, Friday nights? We have like a Friday night date night.”

“Oh, so you’re doing good.” Richie hums, proud of this hypothetical you, “Weekly date night is a cornerstone.” 

“Moving on.” You elbow Rich behind you, shaker sloshing in hand, “I’m not a foodie, you are— In this hypothetical. You’re looking around at restaurants in the area for the date, you find The Bear— You find through their website with an improper hyperlink that the menu is,” —You list off on your free hand— “prix fixe, unavailable online, and changes daily so you can’t go off of reviews either. Also, it’s a new place, so you can’t really ask around for opinions.” 

“Right.” Carmen nods, as does Syd. Uncle Jimmy’s got that stupid smirk he gets when he sees his kids fall in line. You pour the ouzo over the ice, focus on the drink, not Carm’s mopey expression. 

“So, we probably wouldn’t go, right?”

Carmen keeps nodding, eyes downcast— Not upset, just can’t take feedback without keeping his head down. “Prob’ly not, yeah.” 

You pound the shaker shut, shaking it lightly in one hand as you try as hard as you can to sweetly explain. “People are open to like, two surprises on an outing. New place, new food— But they will need a set menu and they will need to have it available beforehand— And they’ll need to be able to choose.”

He looks like a cat in the rain, so you add, “But. Maybe we can do a daily special? Or weekly, depending on burnout, but like, y’know, a semi-frequent one new thing. And maybe on like, Valentines or some holidays we do a fresh prix fixe. That’s how some of the best places do it.”

Carmen’s eyes upturn, smiling with them, at that last part. “You do keep a binder.”

“Syd does. I just pay attention.” You shake your head. “She mumbled about it all night when we got back.” 

Adamu is immediately aghast, she should’ve realized ages ago, you were practically quoting her. “You said you couldn’t hear me!”

“No, I said you weren’t bothering me, and you weren’t.” You can’t hide your smile as you break the seal on the shaker. Syd sucks at sharing her ideas, but you’re happy to act as a good mouth for her good brain. “Hand me a lowball.” 

With a grumble, Syd walks off in search of  the lowball; while everyone does seem to agree this is best practice, Carmen does still seem a little sore about it.

“It’d probably also serve us well to do a seasonally rotating menu, right?” And so you throw him a bone. “Like Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall? Base it on what’s in season with local vendors?”

“What grows together goes together.” Tina says, nearly sing-songy. “Farmer’s market is rough though, Jeff.” 

“Fuck a farmer’s market— With love, fuck a farmer’s market.” Back to writing on plexiglass you go. “We gotta do vendors, maybe f’ like, eggs and dairy we can do farmer’s market, but it’s just not feasible. Maybe for holiday pre fixe or daily specials? But full stock, it’s just not— It’s not it. And I say that while having farm fresh eggs and local honey in my pantry, alright?”

Carmen agrees, like a bobble-head this guy. He nods to Tina. “That cool with you, T?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool with me.” Tina is a millisecond off to pipe in, which is really not noticeable– To anyone but you, that is.

“Why’s— Why would T not be good with that?”

“She’s in charge of farmer’s market.” 

“Hm.” You bite the end of the dry-erase marker. “T, would you be cool with rotating that, now and again?”

“Ooh?” She tilts her head, shrugging, “Yeah, yeah, kid. If you wanna take the reins.”

“Not me.” You return to scribbling on the glass board. You point at Carmen and Syd through the glass. “Them.” 

“I’ve paid my sous chef dues.” Says Syd, returning to the table with your glass. You tut, shaking your head. You refocus your vision from your writing to beyond the plexiglass, at them. 

“You need it for inspiration! You fuckers keep forgetting you like cooking, I need you to visit the farmer’s market once in a while to remind you.” You take the lowball glass and tong a few ice cubes in. “Non-negotiable. Heard?”

A soft, simultaneous, “Heard, Chef.” from your cats. 

“Good.” You strain the mixed concoction out of the shaker, into the lowball glass. It’s a very pretty peachy pink. You tweezer a slice of dried fig and place it on top. You grab a toothpick, stick it down the glass, pull it out, and taste the toothpick. Balanced, solid flavour, should be good.

You slide the drink over to Syd. “I can’t drink everything obviously, so first dibs goes to whoever the drink is based on— I don’t care who drinks it, just let me know if it goes down smooth.”

You also in turn hand Syd the recipe card and sketch, and you’re quick to move on as she reviews and sips away.

Ouzo. Dry anise tasting spirit. It’s got a licorice aftertaste, but oddly sweeter for it. It’s strong. Resilient. It’s made from remnants of unfermented wine grapes and a mix of other distilled and unused spirits. Better than the sum of its parts. It goes well with figs. Muddle it together with fig marmalade— Sweet yet earthy, spring-like. Orange liqueur to marry the flavours, lemon juice to brighten. Shaken, pour over ice into a lowball, serve with a dried fig on top.

Syd manages to reserve her reaction to a slow but repetitive nod, like entering deep space. She only comes back to reality when Richie reaches for the drink, wanting to try. She’s quick to pull it away from him, coveting the glass. 

“Ah… what else? Rapid fire.” You knock your head around, remembering what The Computer talked about, and in quick succession, you line up every problem and talk through them, possibly solve them— As best as a newbie can. At the very least, you open the floor to actual discussions as you make drinks all the while. 

“Opening a full sixth day I think will shoot us in the long run, especially if we ever get a kitchen plague going. Maybe we just open for half the day on Mondays going forward, try out breakfast? Stop booing me, I’m right.”

Richie’s. Also served over ice in a lowball. It’s similar to a whiskey smash. Nixing the mint. Whiskey bourbon— A good one, but not too good that it’s a sin to mix. Something with a cinnamon spice, that's warm all the way down, but never burns. Water it down a bit by stirring peach juice over the whiskey with ice for a brief moment. Float blueberry syrup on top. Add a toothpick, spearing two blueberries and one peach halve, balance it over the glass, for stirring. So the drinker can mix the blueberry syrup in and have a cute colour changing experience. 

“Wine pours, me and Gary got that. We can also just start charging by the bottle by default— Whatever works.” 

Marcus’. Simple but effective. A rum and coke ice cream float. Made complex by the fact that the ice cream is on a rotating schedule, based on whatever Chef Brooks is feeling that night and what’s in stock. Right now? Pistachio. So tonight it’s actually rum and seltzer, and it will probably continue to be rum and seltzer, based on the way Marcus’ eyes light up by the opportunity to get weird. More often than not, you’re going to need that neutral base. Served in a milkshake glass, because what else?

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t just grow these microgreens myself in house. They’re just plants you murder early, are they not? Am I missing something?”

Tina’s. Varied take on a spiked agua fresca. Fresh blended mango agua fresca— With ginger, of course. A healthy kick is a necessity for a mom drink. Sweetened with simple syrup, spiked with white rum, dash of agave bitters, top with coconut water. Served in a tall glass, because why would you skimp on portions?

“Why are we shipping flowers from New York? No, fuck that, go to Violet’s Violets— I fixed her cooler once, she falls in love and gives a discount to literally anyone who’s nice to her. Just send Marcus with some dessert and you’ll be set for life.”

And of course, Carmen’s aperol spritz. You go with the cherry syrup rim for now because it’s important to try. You’re almost certain it’s too much though.

“Napkins…” You rub your icy cold hands— From shaking up so many goddamn drinks— Over your eyes. “Why are we renting?”

“Buying is insanely overpriced.” Answers Computer. 

You nod, shrug, but nod, fingers tapping the glass, “Well, it’s like renting over owning right? It might be better to own because, y’know, you might suddenly get told by your napkin vendor, like, like years down the line, after basically paying for these napkins in full through rent, ‘hey, actually, we’re gonna jack up prices or just take those napkins back’ even though you’ve —again— Literally had them for years—”

“Chippy, are you good?” Richie tries to massage your shoulder, tries to break you out of the doom spiral, but admittedly, it was never his forte. Still isn’t. 

“We—!” Your voice hangs and is grating in a way it usually isn’t, ignoring the question. “We can produce our own napkins if we buy linens by the yard and hem ‘em ourselves. We—” You snap your fingers a couple times at Carmen, praying he backs you up. “We can even get The Bear monogrammed on them.”

“That sounds nice…” It’s Carmen’s turn to ease you off the ledge of insanity, gently. “It also sounds expensive, were you gonna do that?”

“Fuck no.” You’re quick to shake your head. “I fucking suck at sewing, my own jumpsuit is covered in my blood— No, my—” Oh. “Hold on.”

Your hand immediately goes for your back pocket, quickly pulling your cell-phone out, and dial one of your first starred contacts. Richie, over your shoulder still, sipping his blueberry and bourbon cocktail, excitedly mumbles. “Oh, put it on speaker.”

You’re annoyed before he’s even answered, knowing the headache you’re about to get. “Trust me, the first thirty seconds minimum will not need—”

“Hey!” It’s impossible to convey how earth shatteringly loud and drawn out his voice is, immediately upon answering. There may be eight seconds of the sustained vowel? Maybe more. Almost everyone flinches, par for Syd, Carm, and Rich. Though for all different reasons. 

A touch grating, in the same way your voice just was. Like father, like occasional daughter, you suppose. “Hey kiddo baby darling sweetheart angel princess—” Oh, he’s mad. The whole ‘slew of nicknames when you’re pissed off’ thing? Yeah, that didn’t start with you. “Did someone die? Because that’s the only reason my darling baby only daughter calls anymore!”

You sigh, immediately exhausted, putting your weight on one leg. “Y’know, once a month is honestly a lot of times a year for a fully grown woman to call their dad, on average. I absolutely call you more than my friends call their dads.”

Richie almost chokes and whispers over your shoulder, hesitant, internally preparing for a dreadful future. “Please tell me that’s not true.”

“Oh, and you should be so lucky that you have a dad to call! Cause I bet those friends are calling funeral homes, aren’t they?!”

“Dad—”

“I should have never taught you independence. Worst mistake of my life to teach you how to be your own person. Richard, never teach your kid how to use a screwdriver, it will be the last day you are a father.”

“Noted, Big C-K.” Richie goes for your dry erase to actually write it down, you pull it away from him. That’s gonna require a long talk down later. 

Carmen mouths to you, across the table, he meant to ask earlier when Cicero said it but there wasn’t time. ‘C-K?’

You mouth back, gesturing to the logo on your very own flannel ‘Chicago’s Kindest.’ He’s not the best with acronyms. 

“Oh— And thank you for bringing that up! And what’s this I hear about you cutting your hours with C-K? I hear this from Tony of all people ‘fore I hear it from you?”

“I got a long-term bartender gig that’s actually gonna keep my bills paid, alright? And I like it. Putting that mixology double trade major to good use. Cicero’s got stock in the place, actually.”

“How you doin’ C-K?” Cicero pipes in next to you, waiting for his moment.

“Ah… I’ve got my complaints. For one, my Jack keeps you more company than me!”

There’s a series of hums and haws, that weird uncle secret language of heavy exhales that manage to say more than any actual words they could say. 

You let the heaving run its course for ten seconds before cutting it short with, “Anyways, I’m still gonna keep the business running, just only in the mornings. It’s not like I brought in that much business anyway, I’m not pulling a foundation.”

“Everytime a small business dies, a rich man laughs, Jack!” 

“It’s not dying! It’s alive! It’s present and alive!” Don’t get flashbacks. “Anyways, speaking of small businesses, I need a favour—”

“Ooh, the truth comes out, princess calls cause she needs bail—” 

“For the love of God, let me get through a sentence, Pops!” You grumble, continuing. “Remember that overpriced monogram machine you bought for no reason?”

“It was not for no reason, it was invaluable because it saved my mitts from hand embroidering all those logos— And and— you have to remember—” You mouth the words along with him, mimicking him, because you know exactly what he’s going to say, “that it all starts in your community— And now you have like eight beautiful outfits, cause of me… And also it’s fun.”

“Well… If it’s fun, would you consider making some linen napkins?”

And it flows like ping pong, because your dad is a repairman— Well, former, but still. He’s simple. He handles negotiations simple. So do you.

“For who?” “Restaurant. The Bear.” “Why?” “Cause they need linen napkins.” “How many?”

You look over your shoulder to Richie, he does the math in his head pretty quickly, “Bout seventy to a hundred covers a night.”

“Six hundred.” “Pay?” “We’ll pay supplies, and I’ll give you like—” You look to Syd, expectantly. She has no answer, so you put your advanced on the line. “A thousand?”

“A thousand!? Less than a dollar a napkin! Is this pre-housing crisis?!” “I work here, okay?! Discount me!” “My God, princess, are you in love with the owner or something?”

That world feels like it's choking, but that's probably just you. You blow hot air out of your mouth, looking anywhere but Carmen. Refusing to see him even in your periphery. Refusing to see his blue screened but ever so slightly expectant expression. Well? Are you? …Or something?

After a long moment, you find a way to avoid the question. “Ah–Uh, Syd co-owns the place.”

“Oh, Adamu?!” 

Syd pipes in, leaning over the table. You hold the phone out for her. “H–Hey, Mr. CK.” She waves, despite the fact that it’s a phone call.

“Hey kiddo. Aw, what a sweetheart. Lead with her next time!”

“Alright!” You bring the phone back to your face— It’s remained off speakerphone this entire time, but he continues to yell loud enough for the table. “I didn’t realize you were best friends.”

“Of course we are. Y’know she brought me this uh– this salmon mushroom risotto the other night? Unbelievable.”

You squint at Adamu curiously, whispering. “You bring my dad food?”

She whispers in return, defensive. “He lives on my block, don’t be weird.”

“For her, I’ll do it for eight-hundred, okay kiddo? I know how tough it is to start up a business, can’t imagine trying to move on top of that.”

Your turn to blue screen. Moving? You’re immediately over the love thing. “...Pardon?”

“...I’ll do it for eight—”

“No– Yes, sorry, yes dad that’s great—” You arch the phone away from your face, focusing your attention on Syd. “Syd, you’re moving out?”

She sighs, “Trying to.”

“Pops.” You straighten up, not looking away from her. “I’ll call you back to sort details later, okay?”

“Sure. You also need to let me know holiday plans, are we going up to Oak Park or—”

Somewhat disrespectfully, you speak hurriedly, “Yeah, we’ll figure it out, love you, bye!” and hang up. Still locked on Syd, you ask. “When you tryna move?”

“Like, soon as possible.” She stretches out her shoulders. “My own dad is sort of… Encroaching on my space.” 

“Right.” Your eyes flicker with too many ideas, and you’re trying to temper expectations. “You wanna live by yourself?”

“I mean, I don’t really know anyone on the same timeline as me, with the same ‘low budget’ as me.”

The Computer attempts to interrupt the interruption of his review, holding a finger up, “And why are we talking about—”

But you hold the palm of your hand up, continuing on, “I need to move out asap and have a ‘low budget’.”

That’s Carmen’s queue to chime in, he loves your place. “What happened?” 

Also Richie’s, “What? Chip, your spot’s like a historical site, ya can’t move.” and this is generally agreed upon by a sea of dismayed voices.

“To make an extremely long story short, I don’t have a choice.” You wave your hand in the air, silencing murmurs. “My sweet old lady landlord— The only landlord I’ve ever respected, got bought out by a fuckin’ big business gentrification ass company— I’m not in a rent controlled zone so they’re gonna keep jacking the rent until I move out so they can tear it down and build a new spot— They also may or may not have found out that me and Loretta— My landlord— Haven’t exactly been keeping up to date on my lease.”

“Meaning?” Carmen knows the answer will be bad. 

But it’s somehow worse. “Meaning I pay my rent on time in cash and she texts me once a year saying ‘do you want to keep living here?’ and I say ‘yes’, and we continue on.”

“Well, hold up—” Richie holds a hand up, like he’s a genius. “Squatter’s rights?”

“I thought about going that avenue, but—” You gesture to Syd. “If you’re already moving, and looking for a roommate?”

She looks up and around, thinking about it. You decide to join her in the brainstorm, scooching yourself just an inch to the right, writing on free space on the plexiglass screen, ‘pros and cons’

“Pro.” You murmur as you write. “I have a better credit score than you.”

Syd sputters, half sarcastic. “Well, that’s just uncalled for.”

“It’ll give you more options for places! Better ones! Ones with in-unit laundry!” You defend.

“In-unit laundry…” “Your eyes just lit up in such a sad way.” “Con. You are an ass.”

“That’s a pro. A real con would be that I have a lot of plants and if I ever go on vacation I’m gonna need you to take care of them, and I’m not gonna have a binder for you, because I water them based on vibes, and if I come back and they’re dying I’m gonna be pissed off and very passive aggressive about it.”

“Violently honest.” “Pro. Mostly direct. Aside from when I’m not.” “Con. I’m not direct.”

“Con. That’s fine but if I get the idea that you’re mad at me I’m gonna act really weird about it until you reassure me that everything is okay and you don’t want to throw me out the window.”

“Yeah. Con. Same.”

“Pro. I’ve lived by myself for a while, which is good to have when you’re moving out of your parents for the first time. Con. I’ve lived by myself for a while, and I’m very used to the lifestyle of big t-shirt no pants, I’m not giving that up.”

Now that one takes Syd a second to unpack, “But, but like, underwear though, right—?”

“No shit I wear underwear!”

“Okay! It’s important to note!”

“Don’t be weird.” Richie grumbles behind you, solidly directed at Carmen.

Who’s whole face really just scrunches up in confusion. “‘Don’t be weird’? You don’t be weird.”

“I’m not bein’ fuckin’ weird—” “Then why are you up in my shit—” “Up in your shit? Oh wow—” “Fully not what I was referencing—” “Don’t be weird, cousin!” “I literally— I did not even move— Not a single cell in my body—” “And— And you only know that ‘cause you had to lock it down, you dog—”

“I don’t remember having kids, why the fuck am I in a Kindergarden?” Uncle Jimmy interrupts.

“I’m just takin’ care of my boy, Unc.” Richie raises a hand in defense, feigning innocence. “Can’t be too careful.”

“You super can, and you super are.” You grimace, elbowing him again. “And also, not important–!”

“Actually, no, very important.” Syd of all people interrupts. “Non-negotiable, like you can’t— …Like you— …When I’m home it’s like— Don’t—” Ah.

You roll your eyes and save her before she just about breaks out in a feverish sweat. “Syd, I wasn’t planning on it. That’s like roommate rule one.”

“Syd.” Richie points to his own eyes, then to hers, ‘watching you’. “Don’t be weird.”

“What the fuck—”

“Everyone shut up, pros and cons—!” You shout, gaining the attention back. “Pros. I have a car, we work at the same place, I have all the furniture for a living room already,  you'd never have to wait for a landlord to fix something ever again, and I could probably do a bunch of D-I-Y renter friendly projects, if you wanted.”

“...Oh my god, a French-door pantry.” “I think I could swing that.” “Pros. You’ll never have to cook again. I guess that’s my only pro, actually.”

“Con. I have been feeding the cat on my fire escape for like a year and if I’m moving I am going to have to adopt her, so we’re gonna have a cat. She’s cute, she has five toes on each paw. Something dactyl, it’s called.”

“What’s her name?” Squid’s not excited per se, but she’s not saying no. 

You shrug. “I never named her, let’s name her together.”

“No, that’s too much pressure—” “No, you’ll do great—” “What do you mean I’ll do great—?” “Three–” “Oh like together together? No! What—?!” “Shut up, just do it, head empty, two—” “No! I’m just not gonna say any—” “Yes you will, Squid. One!”

And together, perfectly in sync, like it was planned all along, you both say on queue, “Calamari!”

“There we go.” You write ‘Calamari’ on the plexiglass. “That’s my girl— That’s our girl, actually. I’m still not sure if she’s a girl.”

You click your tongue against your teeth, knocking your head back and forth in thought as you look at the scribblings on the glass. “Non-negotiables?”

Syd leans forward on the table, chin propped up in her hands. “I need forty-five minutes of bathroom time at the beginning of the day.”

“...Do you have a fuckin’ lactose intolerance?” “It’s my me time!” “Alright! Fuckin’ fifty minutes of toilet time for Syd. Ah, I need east facing windows… and uhm…”

Syd stares at you, and alas, she can tell, “You have a big non-negotiable…”

“It’s not that big… It’s more a group thing than a roommate thing, really…” “What is it?” “I think… It would be fun… If we all started playing Dungeons and Drag—” 

There’s an immediate, staggeringly loud array of groans, you’re still writing it down nonetheless, all the while defending, “I honestly think a little roleplay and math would fix you assholes! I really think it would! I’ll D-M, I’ll make it so easy— Please?”

Syd grimaces, but inevitably nods. “Y’know what, you’re never gonna get a concrete schedule for that down, and no one else is gonna agree so yes, sure from me.” Still a win. 

“Okay.” You hum, capping the marker. “So… Aim to move first of February? You down?”

It takes some time, and you realize as Syd’s brain frozen, that you might be overstepping. “Sorry, that’s going too fast, you think on it—”

“...I’m down.” You make it very easy for her to say yes, by giving her the option to say no. “Yeah, let’s do it. February. I’m down.”

“I’m so happy for you two, but I’m still fuckin’ reeling— Chippy, it’s– it’s— So many memories—” Richie’s being overly dramatic on purpose, hand on your shoulder, really laying on the vocal fry in his voice; but it is true. “I mean, come on, first time I’d ever been stabbed was on your block.”

“Sorry, what?” Carmen was having fun watching his two favourite employees figure out they’d be perfect roommates. He loves to be a fly on walls around you more than he’d like to admit. Richie managed to ruin it with one line. “Stabbed on your block?”

“Yeah,” You suck the air between your teeth, trying to think of some sort of white lie, but slowly shake your head, “I— Yeah, there’s no real way for me to down play it, I was so fuckin’ scared.”

“You were tweaking!” Richie laughs, clapping his hand against your shoulder, to him it’s a charming story— You’d probably be laughing too, if Carmen didn’t seem so… unpleased, let’s say. “You fuckin’ thought I was gonna die!”

“You fucking were!” You slap Rich’s hand away. “It was so close to a cerebral artery— First and last time I’ll administer stitches in my fucking kitchen, hand to God—”

“What’s the story?” Oh, new face from Carmen you haven’t seen before, bewildered annoyance, you’d describe it as, it’s going in your bottom five. “You live in a bad neighbourhood?”

“It’s rustic—” You try, but Richie opts to speak on your behalf. “Oh, Chip lives in a terrible neighbourhood, Cousin. You’ve been there, haven’t you?”

“Yeah but it didn’t seem that bad— No— Hold on, go back, stabbed why?”

“So I heroically defended a boy from crooked—” Richie tries, but you opt to speak on his behalf. “Richie was helping me bring up groceries, we saw some highschoolers shaking a kid down, Richie tried to break it up, one of ‘em stabbed him with one of those shitty switchblade comb things.”

“You got stabbed by a kid?” Syd snorts, but immediately regrets it because she has perfectly set him up for—

“Yeah, and wouldn’t be the last time, would it?”

“Richie, c’mon…” You reach up, patting the guy’s shoulder. “It was an accident and she apologized—”

Richie just raises his eyebrows, interrupting with a simple, “Mm-mm.” 

And so yours raise in tow, “...Fuck you mean ‘mm-mm’?” And your head turns to Syd, alarmed. “Syd, you apologized, right?”

Her mouth just sort of hangs, sputtering noises do come out of it, but nothing that strings a sentence together. You grow more agog, repeating again, astonished, nearly laughing from the shock, “Syd?! You apologized, right?! And told him it was an accident, right?”

Syd takes a beat, but she gets there. “I— I. Am. Sorry I stabbed you by accident, Richie.”

“Hm.” Richie crosses his arms, considering, mostly sarcastically. “Yeah, I’ll take it, I guess. Would’ve liked a card.”

“I am not getting you a card.” “I’m jus’ sayin’ I’d’ve liked one.”

Carmen’s still five steps behind, “Are you gonna be fine living there? In January?”

You choke back a laugh, because this is how men try to show they care, one must imagine. “I’ve been fine for the past handful of years living there, I think I’ll be fine for another month, sweetheart.”

“Crime is bad in January.”

“I was a first responder, and I know that’s not true.” You shake your head, shirking off laughter. “It’s actually in the summer that you see shit go down. Again, I will be fine. But you are free to visit.”

“Point of order.” The Computer finally pipes up again— Might’ve forgot he was here, if you’re honest. “What are we talking about anymore?”

“Point of order— I feel like numbers— Talking numbers is great but it’s all just like— Paper, y’know?” You unlatch the plexiglass, gently settling it back down on the table. “We should be talking more.”

Tina nearly whistles in agreement, nodding by your side. “Heavy that, Jeff.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’, like—” You snap your fingers to the rest of the crew, hand moving to and fro to point at everyone, “Did y’all know until right now that Syd was moving? …No, right? Let’s like— Fuckin’ remember to check in, like y’know, family, Chefs.”

And without calling her out, you can feel Tina’s demeanor next to you change, relaxed. 

“Heard, Chef.” Is the agreement from the crew, however, The Computer nor Cicero seem convinced, so with a sigh, you put on your most authoritative voice.

 “Y’know. Three Cs! Caring cuts costs!” A phrase no one has ever said, but it sounds legitimate when you put it like that. That gets them to acquiesce. 

Thank God, Marcus helps you move the conversation along, “...What’s everyone doing for the holidays?” Alas for both of you, the silence is deafening. “...Or not.”

You volley back for him, “If no one has hard plans I was thinking of having a lil’ Holiday party? Nothing big. Sort of a ‘goodbye old apartment’ party? Come by after you hang out with your families or whatever?”

“Not gonna go up to Oak Park?” Rich leans one arm on your shoulder, nursing his whiskey cocktail in the other. 

“Meh.” You shrug, attempting to push him off you, but he doubles down. “We’re not so intense about holidays since everyone’s aged. I’ll visit my nephew on New Years.” 

“I’m doin’ Eve with Eva, but I’ll be free on the day. I’ll come by. We doin’ gifts?”

“I mean I got you something, so,” You tap the bottom of his glass as Rich takes another sip, making him flinch. “Catch the fuck up.” 

Syd pipes in, sniffing. “Me and my dad only celebrate on Christmas Eve now, so I’ll come.”

“Incredible. Two down.” You gesture to Marcus and Tina across the table. “You guys? Tina I assume you’ve got a loving family and shit?”

Tina smiles and nods, rightfully proud. “I do have a loving family and shit, but maybe I’ll come by late with them too?”

And Marcus tacks on with her, “I’m gonna be with my mom most of the night, but I’ll come through for a couple hours.”

“Perfect, perfect. Invites open to any plus ones as long as you text me first!” You hum, writing names down on the glass board. It’s kind of a nightmare of different lists at this point. “Richie, can you make sure Fak and Sweeps get the invite?”

“Yessir.”

“And us!?” Shrieks Cheech in the back, who really shouldn’t be able to hear you, he should be in the zone, slinging sandwiches.

You yell back without turning to him. “Yes, fucker, you and E can come, if you want! No fuckin’ plus one for you though!”

“Oh come the fuck on, Jack-Off!”

“Oh, make me a fuckin’ sandwich, big man!”

“Oh, I’ll make you a fuckin’ sandwich!”

“Oh, my dick!” A response that makes no sense, consistently the perfect bookend. You sigh, and finally, your eyes flit to the most terrified two in the room. “Berzattos… Holiday plans?”

“I think we’re gonna do dinner on Christmas Eve, and then the morning together? Well, I am.” Sug hesitates, she’s looking between Uncle Jimmy and Carmen. “I was gonna ask what Carm’s plan is…”

“I’ll go. I’ll go.” Carmen has to stop himself from biting the skin off the tips of his fingers. “I’ll go. And I’ll come to the party, after.” 

“I’ll probably just go home with Pete after. Baby’s first Christmas, y’know.” Natalie hums and nods awkwardly. There’s a question both of them want to ask. Neither of them are brave enough to ask it. And while you can sense there’s something dancing in the air, you’re not going to overstep on this front. 

“Mazel. I can buy silly decor with reason now. …Now let’s talk about the important grievances.” You hum, happy to end that chapter.

You turn just slightly to gently slap Richie’s cheek as he stands next to you. “Rich, you need to line your beard up, this neckbeard shit is pissing me off—”

“What’s with the fuckin’ drive by?!” “It’s been on my mind forever— You can’t be wearin’ suits and then be rockin’ that unkempt shit, clean up—” “I’m clean! I’m fucking clean!” “Who said? Who fuckin’ said? Cause I sure didn’t!” “How’m I s’posed to be linin’ my shit up every mornin’—” “You do not grow a beard that fast—” “Oh fuck you, I’m not fuckin’ Carmen, I grow a fuckin’ beard.”

Carmen’s just surprised to hear his name out of any name come up. “What– Now that’s a fucking drive by, what the fuck?” 

“If we’re voicing grievances, I’d like to voice my fuckin’ complaint with Captain Crash-Out over here—” “Who the fuck is sublimating now?” “You’re not usin’ that term correctly, cause you’re not integrated—” “I thought you two worked this out on the road trip!” “We did!”

You only half regret starting this feud with the beard comment— To be fair, you’re right. “This is it working?” 

“This is, in fact, it working.” Syd confirms plainly, her disappointment more than apparent. Rubbing the tips of her fingers to her temples. The fight is out of her, at this point. 

“Alright.” You slap your hands together. “Richie, what is your complaint?” Are you just union rep now? You might be a union rep now. 

“Carmen is fucking killing me.” The cocktail swishes and nearly spills as Richie points at the Chef, emphatic. “He won’t change shit for guests!”

“No substitutions!” It’s almost cultish, the way Sydney and Carmen yell it out together. 

Richie scoffs, head reeling back. “What happened to it bein’ about hospitality?” 

“I mean…” You suck air through your teeth, squinting. “If we’re sayin’ no substitutions, it’s no substitutions— Unless it’s like an allergy or sensory thing— But even then, it shouldn’t be like a major component getting replaced.”

“See? See?” It’s almost maniacal, rabid, how delighted Carmen is that you’re on his side. “Fuckin’ thank you. This is why I lo—” 

Before Carmen can finish his sentence, Richie flails about to suddenly throw the peach and blueberry skewer from his drink at Carmen— Not the pointed side, he doesn’t want to stab the guy. Just wants to save him from running his mouth. The peach slice hits Carm’s chest as Richie stutters out, “F-Fuck you, fuck you, fine. No substitutions— What the fuck am I supposed to say then?” speaking over whatever syllables fell out of Carmen’s mouth, muddling them. 

You cock your brow, but Carmen seems to quickly let the childish toss go, more than eager to move on. So you do too. “...Say some bullshit like, like, The Bear encourages —uhm— explorative culinary experiences where you let your taste buds go beyond your limitations and comforts— So eat a fuckin’ mushroom, you’re not gonna die.”

“If they don’t like mushrooms—” “Then they shouldn’t order it!” “How hard is it to just fuckin’ switch it out!?” “So hard! So hard! I think! I could guess!”

“I could do it.”

“Could you?” You cross your arms, leaning your weight onto one leg, pivoting to Richie. “Okay, roleplay, you’re Carmen, I’m you—” Just as Richie opens his mouth, you hold your index finger to his lips. “I know you wanna be a bitch, I’m askin’ you to just skip that part for me.”

His shit eating grin is only a little endearing. “How am I supposed to be in character if I’m not allowed to be a bitch?”

You clench and unclench your hands in the air, but let it go, opting to move on to your little thought experiment. “Chef, patient—” Instincts never give out, huh? “Christ, patron doesn’t want mushrooms in their anolini, I need you to sub it.”

“Ah, well I’m happy to do that for you, Host Richie, I—” He’s going to go into some scathing spiel, and you love the guy, but you have to rub dirt in the wound for the lesson to stick. 

You speak over him, voice stern, “Chef. In order to keep pace, I need you to make this call in fifteen seconds, what are you subbing it for?”

Richie’s head shakes back and forth as he scrambles to get his brain to work.“Fuckin— Fucking– Eggplant.” 

“Eggplant?” You ask politely, tone unsure. Carmen asks it with you, tone ridiculing. 

“It’s a sauce isn’t it?” You squint, turning your head to the actual Carmen. “It’s like a really thick mushroom sauce stuffed pasta?”

He tilts his head from side to side, but nods. In gist, yes. “It’s a ragout. Low and slow cooked stew—” Carmy’s ready to rave about it and teach you every facet of the dish, but perhaps that’s too romantic for a public setting. God, he’s weird about love. “We keep it going on our back burners all day— It takes an hour minimum to make from scratch, you can’t just sub it.” 

“Yeah, well…” Richie stops himself short of getting snarky for no reason all over again, taking a second to think about it. “Well, I didn’t know that. You didn’t explain that shit to me.”

“I don’t have time to hold your fuckin’ hand—” Carmen stops short of getting catty when you give him a very soft and yet gutting disappointed look. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sniffing. “I can’t explain why I do everythin’ I do when I’m— When we’re in a middle of a rush, I just need you to trust when kitchen says we can’t do it. Trust that I thought it through.”

Richie has to control himself, has to make sure the corners of his mouth don’t upturn just slightly, has to make sure it’s not clear that he is overjoyed that there’s finally middle ground, can’t get his hopes up. He nods. “I just wanna make everyone happy, y’know?”

“I know. You’re—” Carmen’s nose scrunches up for a second, God, he’s never had to say that he think’s Richie’s good to his face. And he’s not gonna start now, “Eggplant would be a good sub, if we had time.”

Richie prods his tongue along the side of his cheek, thinking. “Maybe I could look into knowin’ restrictions faster and estimatin’ their orders, so you can have ‘em on deck?”

And Carmen does think that’d be a waste of time, but he’s learning. He hears it out. “Could give it a shot, yeah.”

“Same team.” Richie reaches across the counter, and Carmen actually takes his hand, a quick dap. Civil.

“Same team.” First time you’ve heard Carmen adopt your idiom; you can’t help but smile, though you’re trying to hide it. You’re too focused on arguably the two most important men in your life to notice the silent conversation Uncle Jimmy is having with The Computer, speaking solely through nods and exchanged glances. 

Pay is for Chip. Cicero nods, and The Computer nods back. He gets it now. Pay is for Chip. Not just the mixologist, not just the sommelier, not just the repairman, not just the not-quite girlfriend, Chip. You’re Chip. You’re the cog, the piece. The grease between everyone. 

You’re the guy. Always have been, always will be. 

The silent conversation and the warm feeling in the room is cut short though, by The Computer. “Can she deal with the butter thing?”

“What the fuck is the butter thing?” You immediately jump onto the case, when Carmen looks down and away from you, you frown, leaning in. “What’s the butter thing?”

Jimmy snaps his fingers at The Computer, he hands him an invoice, which is then handed off to you. Old Major Farms, Orwellian Butter, salted and unsalted. $11,268. You just. Stare. The math comes all too easy to your head. Worth a week? 

“It’s the best.” Carmen repeats as your eyes remain worryingly unblinking. “It’s—”

“Carm.” Syd all but hisses, shaking her head in tight swivels, waving her hand around her neck for him to cut it. “Making it worse.”

“Angel is like, the worst it can get.” Hums Richie. Recalling your barometer of anger. Recalling the times when Mikey would say ‘what’s the point of paying bills?’ And you’d have to pull him aside. “Can’t get much lower than that besides—”

“Light of my life.” You look up from the paper in your hand, and both Richie and Sydney wince. Your voice is terrifyingly delicate as you nod over to the room behind you. “Apple of my eye. Can I speak to you in your office, please?”

Carmy’d like to say no. “...Yeah.” But you already started walking before he even answered, so there’s not much of a choice here. You head in by yourself, and thankfully, the door closes behind you, so Carmen’s got a second before he gets devoured. 

He walks around the counter, and as he nears the door, Richie grabs his arm. He whispers as he hands Carmen what’s left of his cocktail. “You need to lock the fuck in.”

“I know.” Carm returns, shooting down all that’s left of the lowball. Why’s Richie’s the sweet one? Why’d Carmen get the cough syrup drink? That’s not fair. Do you not think he’s sweet? “Thank you for the— Intercept.” 

Richie nods, he’s been unwillingly playing quarterback for Carmen since going to Rockefeller and seeing that goddamn giant tree and Carmen couldn’t stop opening his big fucking mouth after seeing you under the star. “Just think with your brain, not your—”

“Don’t.” “Was gonna say heart.” “Sure.” “Don’t be weird.”

“I know it’s expensive.” Carmen gets it out before even fully closing the door behind him, “But it’s normal prices, for high-end restaurants. I know it’s different—” He stops short when he finally turns around from the closed door, to see you, holding your painting. 

It’s facing you, you’re reviewing it in your hands where you sit in the office chair; the brown wrapping paper freshly ripped and on the floor. Carmen still doesn’t know what’s on the piece. 

“Carm.” You twist the piece around in your hand, turning it to him. He can see the nine squares. The Beef to The Bear. Mikey. “This is not another restaurant.”

Carmen continues to stare, silently, though he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out to graze over the canvas. You keep going, clarifying. “We’re not just another high-end restaurant. We’re us. And so we should be doing things like us. We’re the best, we don’t need the stuff to be.”

He was with you until that last part. His pursed lips say as much.

“It’s—” You smack your lips together, haphazardly handing him the canvas, he’s very quick to grab it with both hands, not wanting it unstable for a second. “Hold on, let me show you somethin’ — I think I left one in here.”

You roll the office chair back a bit, sinking down in the seat to reach far behind a tall cabinet; you have to pad your hand around in the dark nook for quite some time before you pull out— A screwdriver. An oddly shaped one, at that.

“...Has that been here the whole time?”

You nod. “Like threeish years at least, I think I threw it back there while telling it’s origin story. It’s part of the first set I ever got.” You grip the flat wooden handle. “It’s the worst screwdriver on earth, like, by far.” 

That gets a little chuckle out of Carmen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You look up from it to him. “It’s a handmade set. Dad’s dad made it.” You awkwardly roll closer to him, he leans over, head next to your head as you both look down at it. “It’s got a flat wooden handle, made of poplar— So not only is it fucking impossible to get a good grip on, it’s also so fucking slippery. It’s part of a whole set, passed down from my grandpa to my dad to me.”

“Sounds fucked.”

“It is.” You laugh, and so does he. “It’s purposefully meant to piss you off.” You rub your thumb over the dent marks in the wood— All from the times you threw it at something— Including the very cabinet that it hid behind. “You ever wonder why I took over the handyman gig, bein’ the youngest and all?”

Carmy shrugs, glancing from the screwdriver to you. “Just assumed you were the best.”

That gets another laugh out of you, and Carmen’s overjoyed by the sound. “Yeah, I’m probably the best. But that’s only cause I kept up with it.”

You turn your head up to face Carmen again as you explain, “When our dad started bringing us to jobs as kids, he would make us exclusively use this set of screwdrivers— Sort of as a secret test. My brothers would get pissed off, as planned, and they’d quit and cry. And I dunno, I guess I’d cry and keep going? And I learned a couple tricks, eventually.”

“Tricks?”

“Like.” You pull back in the chair and run your hand across the office desk. The corners of it are screwed into the metal cabinet below it. “It’s really good if you’re screwing from the top down.” Using it as an example, you start to unscrew it. “It’s balanced. And it’s really all in the grip— Always loosen your grip with this one. Even if that seems counterintuitive.”

You get it to unscrew just fine with your loosened grip. “But if that doesn’t work, and you just can’t get it to work—” You lift the screwdriver in front of his face, showing off the sides of the handle. He smirks at the— “Just make your own grooves, it’ll be easier to hold.” Tiny teeth marks. 

“Carm.” You tap the handle to his nose as he zones in too much on it. “I’m the best repairman because I can work with anything. You’re the best Chef because you can work with anything. You don’t need the best when you’re the best.”

He’s the best? 

He’s the best. 

He’s the best. 

“I truly think you could make just as good a plate with Becel as this fucking Animal Farm butter.” 

Carmen’s the best. You think he’s the best. 

He’s gotta think with his head and not with his heart and not with anything else, either. Lock the fuck in, Carmen.

“I dunno bout all that.” He shrugs, bashful and attempting to hide it, trying to shake the praise off his back. 

“Well I know ‘bout that.” You shrug back, “I’m actually kind of a genius, when it comes to knowing who’s good and who’s not.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Carmy hums, and the sound is sweet without reservations. “...Painting is very good.” He nods to himself, on repeat, like a bobblehead. “Or I guess it’s less a painting and more a buncha photo transfers?”

“Yeah.” You set the screwdriver aside on the desk. “Most of them I took.”

“They’re good. It’s—” He pauses, tongue against his teeth. “It’s nice to see evidence he kept up, or somethin’.”

You nod, seeing Carmen’s brain struggle to keep pace in real time. “We took that one I think the day we talked to Uncle Jimmy about The Bear? Had to print out articles as proof we could make it work— Or, that you could make it work, rather.”

Carmen sniffs, crossing his arms, hands in tight fists— Probably too tight— where they hide. “Yeah, kinda fuckin’ up my end of the bargain, hm?” The light laugh that follows is hollow.

“Eh. You both did.” You smile, though it’s hesitant. “ But at least you’re still here fixing it.”

Still here. Still fixing it. That is in essence, the piece. Carmen gets lost staring at the squares, so you speak as he does. “I was trying to like. I dunno, replicate your brain.” He can see it. The messy yet coherent, controlled yet chaos. The love. The grief. The progress. The home. You see him. He can see that you see him. 

“11k for butter,” Carm’s head doesn’t move but his eyes raise to you. “Is a week. More than a week.”

Ah. Carmen can see you too, see your thought process. The Ascaso, worth one of the worst weeks of Mikey’s life. The fucking butter. Worth more than a week of Mikey’s sobriety. 

All you can do is nod solemnly. “It is, yeah.” 

He nods back, tongue prodding his cheek. “That’s too much.”

“I’d agree.”

“I’ll switch to local.” You make it easy for him to fix his mistakes, by giving him the space to realize them. 

“I think that’s the right call.” You nod, smiling. After a moment, you reach for Carmen to uncross his arms, and when he does, you take his fist and uncurl it— Your hand is a very soothing balm to the spots where he dug his nails into his own hand.

“Loosen your grip, Carmy.”

And so, he does. With a laugh and a look to high heaven, he loosens his grip. Really loosens his grip. Well— Not completely, he’s not going to say that, but he will say something that is just nearly as difficult but not quite. He'll bite down a little. He’ll make the grooves, for now, until his grip is good enough.

“Come to dinner with us?”

would you believe me if i said I had to rewrite a bit of this last scene because intially it went so rom-com and I was so disgusted when I reread it in the morning I had to stare at it in the subway ride to work like "what the fuck am I gonna do"

was this chapter good? God I hope so. I felt like with where we're going, it was kinda necessary to do Chip's onboard, set the stage for what work is like for her. I had to loosen my own grip with this one lmao. just allow myself to be a LITTLE messy. if it's bad, lie to me. tell me sweet little lies peach

DAD REVEAL THOUGH EH? MR CK!!! So much did happen this chapter. Chips on board! Squid Ink moving in together era commences! Christmas party!! Also. Would you believe me if I told you no shit syd was gonna move, she was planning it in S2, but I was planning this whole time for Ink to get evicted!! I want those fuckers to be roommates STAT!!!

anyways, i really hope i remembered to write down everyone that asked to be added to the taglist, i might've not. i'm very sorry if i didnt

oh also if you wanna be added!! send in your thoughts!! words for words baby, essay for essay cmonnn gimme ur character analysis!! (oh and also ask to be added, ofc)

@hoetel-manager , @fridavacado @sharkluver , @spectacular-skywalker , @silas-aeiou , @deadofnight0 , @sunbreathingstuff , @anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @blueaproncarmy @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @mrs-perfectly-fine @thefreakingbear @anytim3youwant

[sturn-saturn]

the diamond lab

pairing: fem!reader x bf!chris

warnings: suspisions of flora and chris together, cutesy stuff, chris and y/n arguing, not proofread!

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this

part 1 part 3

word count: 1,733

you reach under his pillow to grab his phone and type in his passcode, your birthday.

you press the photos app and see a notification pop up from your best friend flora that reads...

"don't let y/n find out."

"what the fuck." you whisper, your heart dropping. "don't let me find out what?"

"y/n? whats wrong?" your boyfriend asks with a confused look on his face as he walks towards you.

you look up at him with your heart beating 100 miles per hours. "don't let me find out what?"

"huh?"

"chris don't fucking play dumb with me because that is the last thing you want to do right now. don't let me fucking find out what?" you asks sternly getting out of bed showing him the message you, well he received.

he grabs his phone reading the message your best friend sent him. "this? this is nothing."

"are you cheating on me? with my best friend?"

"baby, no. i'm not cheating on you with your best friend. i would never in a million years cheat on you." he says reaching out for your hand causing you to pull back.

"SO THEN TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON. WHAT DON'T YOU WANT ME TO FIND OUT!?" you shout. chris is taken aback by your rage taking a step back.

"SHE'S PREGNANT!"

"w-what?"

"flora's pregnant and she wanted to keep it a secret. i went over to drop something off at matts place a few days ago and i heard someone crying in the bathroom so i walked in and she was holding a pregnancy test." chris explains.

"well is it yours?" you ask quietly still trying to take in the information your boyfriend is sharing.

"good lord, y/n!" chris throws his head into his hands. "no, baby, it's not my child because i’ve never had sex with her nor have i ever cheated on you, ever."

"why didn't she tell me? does matt know?"

"she said she wanted to tell you when she was ready. don't tell her i told you because then she'll be upset that she didn't break the news to you. and yes matt knows."

"so that's why she didn't drink last night."

"exactly." he says walking towards you. he places his big hands on your shoulders and rubs your arms up and down.

"i shouldn't have assumed. i'm sorry, baby"

"you're okay. don't get yourself all worked now. we have an exciting day ahead of us, angel, why don't you get washed up, yeah?"

"okay." you coo looking up at your boyfriend.

"you're so beautiful. you know that?"

"yeah, so you say." you grin.

"alright, go brush those teeth." chris says smacking your ass playfully.

after you and your boyfriend get ready, you both decided to take some time to yourselves and grab some breakfast. you found this really cute cafe that seemed to have a great menu. you got french toast with mixed berries and a smoothie while chris got an avocado toast with scrambled eggs and orange juice.

"baby?" he says.

"hmm?"

"i think we need to move here."

"oh yeah? i cant argue with that." you laugh as you take a bite of your strawberry.

"can i have a bite?" chris asks.

"have as much as you want, angel."

after breakfast you two walk hand in hand and explore the area, going to gift shops, trying on shades, and making memories.

"wanna head back for a little afternoon nap?" chris asks squeezing your hand gently to get your attention.

"yeah, i'd like that." you smile.

you make your way to your shared room and chris takes out the keycard and opens the door to the hotel room for you.

"mm such a gentleman." you say wrapping your arms around his neck and gently pulling him into the room and into a kiss.

"for you, always." he whispers against your lips.

he taps your hips and you take the signal to jump into his arms. he lays you on the bed and softly kisses you neck causing you to whine when he reaches your sweet spot before pulling away and lying beside you.

"okay, sweet girl. i would love to continue and show you what a good girl you've been, but i have to meet matt and nick and figure out some stuff for work."

"you're leaving?" you pout. "i thought we were gonna nap together."

"i know, i know. i'll try to be quick, okay? rest as much as you need to. we're all going out for dinner later."

"okay, fine. don't be too long. i love you."

"i love you too, honey." he says placing a long kiss to your forehead.

while chris makes his way out the hotel room, you head to the bathroom to take your makeup off and change into something comfortable to take your nap. you woke up pretty early today and chris kept you up pretty late last night.

chris' pov

chris makes his way down to the lobby and meets his brother and flora.

“thanks for helping me guys.” chris says with a nervous smile.

“chris i'm grateful you want my help. i’m so excited!” flora smiles.

“you’re her best friend. i’m sure she’s told you what she wants, yeah?”

“oh she definitely has.”

“shall we get going?” matt asks you both as he claps his hands together.

“yeah, lets go.” chris nods. “oh, also, y/n saw you text telling me not to let y/n find out so she thinks i was cheating on her with you so i just told her you were pregnant to cover up the surprise.”

“YOU WHAT!?” matt and flora both whip their heads to chris. “you are unbelievable, you know that?”

“yeah, i’ve heard that once or twice.” chris grins.

“more like a million times.” matt playfully punches his brother.

“i mean, we’ve been talking about kids lately so who knows.” matt smirks.

“matt! stop it!” flora blushes lightly.

chris, matt, and flora finally make it to the place, ‘the diamond lab.’

“looks like we’re here.” chris says opening the door for flora and his brother.

"yeah, looks like it." matt responds.

the three walk in and are enchanted by the beautiful jewelry cased behind the glass.

"hello! welcome to the diamond lab!" a lady who works there greeted.

chris glances at flora as a sign to share the details of what his girlfriend likes.

"hi! i'm flora, this is my boyfriend matt and his brother chris."

"its nice to meet you three! is there anything i could help you with today?" she asks.

"okay, i'll give you the rundown." flora smiles as she leans over the glass.

"tell me about it girl." the worker says leaning as well.

"chris here has been dating my best friend for about 4 years now. they've been wanting to visit aruba together for sometime and we decided to make a whole trip out of it and invited our friends right. but y/n has already been here before and she fell in love with the island so chris thought it would be a great idea to propose to her on her favorite island and we need help finding the perfect ring."

"oh my gosh! well chris, congratulations on finding the woman of your dreams, and i would be more than happy to help you find the perfect ring!"

"thank you so much. honestly i'm very nervous for it all but she's so worth it."

"i bet!" the worker smiles.

"okay now, are you the maid of honor?"

"i am!"

"how exciting! okay so what kind of rings does she like? tell me everything."

"okay. so, she really likes white gold. she talked about an oval shaped 1 carat diamond, but the band part of the ring, she wants small diamonds on it but wants a smooth look so it doesn't get caught on anything."

"i have one exactly the way you described it. i'll go grab it from the back, we actually just had them made the other day!"

"perfect!" flora smiles.

while the three wait, matt is in his own little world looking at all the different kinds of diamond cuts, carats, platinum, sterling, gold, white cold, you name it.

"whatcha thinkin about mr. matt?" flora asks her boyfriend.

"just trying to find a ring to propose to you with one day."

"matthew, don't joke around about things like that." flora says a bit upset.

"who says i'm joking, sweetheart."

"okay i got them!" the worker calls out grabbing our attention. "now, we have these in a size 4 1/2 to an 8."

"that's perfect, she's a 4 1/2." chris says looking at the ring he will get down on one knee with in just a few days. "i'll take it."

"do you want to set a payment plan?" the worker suggests.

"that won't be necessary. i'll just pay for it now. i made sure to call the bank letting them know i'll be making big purchases."

"woah, okay mr. big bucks." flora laughs.

"alright chris, the total is 11,463.00."

chris pulls out his card and just as he's about to swipe matt stops him. "chris. wait."

"what?"

"nick uh, nick gave me his credit card. i have mine on me." matt begins. "nick and i wanna pitch in and help you pay for the ring so you can save more money for the wedding."

"the fuck. are you out of your mind? no. i'm not letting you do that."

"chris, you're my brother. you're the first one out of me, you, and nick to get married. let us do this for you."

"matt, are you sure man?"

"absolutely, save the rest for the wedding."

"i don't know how i could ever thank you and nick, seriously."

"don't. you being our brother is enough." matt smiles.

"matt that's really sweet of you and nick." flora says rubbing his back smiling at how she got blessed with such a sweet man.

"you guys seem like such lovely bunch." the worker says as she collects nick, matt, and chris' credit card.

"thank you for your help." chris tells the worker.

"absolutely. now i'm hoping you two will come back and get a ring from us soon." she winks at flora and matt. "alright, you're all set! congrats again chris and thank you for visiting!"

chris grabs the bag with the ring carefully placed in the box and you all wave goodbye and step out the shop.

"well, this is where it all begins big guy." flora says patting chris' back.

[trulyhblue]

MISS AUSTRALIA (PART TWO)

Katie McCabe x Aussie! Chelsea! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, jealousy, praise kink, semi-public sex, coarse language, Chelsea mentions, little age gap, humiliation, drinking.

Masterlist

______________________________

You don't know what coerced you to spend the night in Katie McCabe's bed, but it felt amazing.

Chelsea's loss against Arsenal sent shockwaves through the WSL side of social media, with a skyrocket of tweets spreading the news regarding the Blue's greatest defeat in five years.

It was not a surprise to see your name mentioned in thousands of these messages, and your connotation to Katie hadn't seemed to surprise anyone either. Lots of people were reeling over the interactions between the two of you on the field, but you wondered what their reaction would be if they found out what happened off the pitch.

Somehow, you didn't want to know.

Despite the thrashing you received from Emma, you, Jessie, Erin, Millie, Sam, and Guro all found yourselves in a pub in North London. It seemed hypocritical — the location — but the vibes were good, and it was a well-known, crowded bar, so the chances of you being seen were slim to none.

While Jessie was the designated driver for you that night, the rest of the girls didn't hesitate to start drinking. You were playing with the straw of your third vodka cranberry, savouring the taste between your teeth, smiling at the quips and jokes the girls would pose, checking the time on your phone as the hours passed later in the night.

"I just know I'm going to regret this tomorrow." Guro sighed, shooting down the last of her drink before standing up. "My shout now, what do you all want?"

Sam and Millie ordered a bulk of shots. Jessie and Erin chose the drinks they had before. You shook your head towards Guro, lifting your half-full drink that you were still nursing.

Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulder, waving Guro off. "You've been on the same drink for an hour. C'mon, have a shot with me."

You glanced across the table to find Erin shuffling a deck of cards. Jessie was on her phone, leaving you sandwiched between Bright and Kerr. You were a football player, an athlete, but you weren't as bulky as your two Chelsea companions. You tried hard in the gym, and anyone could tell that it paid off, but too many drinks would sway you in the wrong direction.

"Are you old enough to drink?" Millie asked, half sincerely, ruffling your hair when you gave her a pointed glare. "I'm only joking, Kid."

"I'm twenty-two. I just like taking care of my body." You spoke with a huff, throwing your arms over your chest, eyes dancing between your two skippers.

"Oh, and all those hickeys are taking care of you, are they?" Guro retorted, Erin's smirk matching hers as she returned with the tray of drinks. You watched her slide a shot towards you, which you took instantly at the looming eyes on your neck from your Australian Captain.

"Since when were those there?" She swooped, her hand reaching out to poke at the marks. You hissed, the exposed blotches still sensitive, shrinking in your seat as all five of your teammates caught your reddening cheeks.

"Fresh ones, eh?" Millie grinned.

While the girls found this new susceptible mystery a highlight of the night, Sam continued to prod at the marks, her protectiveness prominent by the furrow in her eyebrows.

"Who gave you those?" She let out, and you felt your face flame up.

"I'm not talking about it."

"You didn't have them this morning." Guro quipped, earning Jessie to push her scoldingly, feeling slightly sorry for the interrogation you were receiving.

"Jesus, y/n/n, I didn't know you had it in ya—"

"— had what in her?" A voice called out from beside the table, making each of your friends move their eyes away from you and to the source.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, you thought. Great, just your luck.

Katie was standing behind Beth, who was linking elbows with Jordon Nobbs. Caitlin, Leah, and Steph all stood among them, Steph being the one who spoke.

"Nothing. Where's Ky?" You sounded, your voice meek underneath the prying Arsenal eyes.

"Wrong side of London, Skipper." Caitlin laughed.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Good drinks, though."

You shuffled across the lounge you were sitting on, attempting to maneuver yourself over Jessie's lap to escape. You felt a hand grip the back of your skirt, causing you to plop on one of Jessie's legs.

"You can't just avoid the conversation."

"Sammy, stop." You squirmed over Jessie, who used her hands to lift your waist up. "Where's Kyra?" You asked again, hopelessly avoiding the Irish woman's levering eyes. She was watching Jessie's hand on your waist; how her fingers played with the hem of your top as you battled to fight Sam's hand away. Katie noticed how Jessie spread her legs out, engulfing your body weight more comfortably, as if she was used to having you in that position.

The Irish woman wanted to mock the playful whines that left your lips as everyone questioned what the two Australians were fighting over. She caught sight of the bruise she had left under your ear, recalling the heavy whines and desperate breaths that followed as her lips lapped over the delicate skin. The mark offered Katie some comfort in your current situation. The grand display of pink smearing across your freckled cheeks was admirable to most, but Katie found you much more pleasurable when you beat red at the sound of her voice, when you were grinding against her knee, not Fleming's.

"She went to the bathroom, I think." Beth Mead spoke, her friendly, maternal smile glowing back at you. "Actually, she could be anywhere. 'Can never sit still, that girl."

"Alright, let me go check."

You didn't wait for anyone to stop you, stumbling off Jess' lap, head spinning from the alcohol running through your system. You could handle your liquor to some extent, but it was after this that you went beyond tipsy. Your journey to the bathroom was quick, wasting no time to find your best friend, wherever she may be.

The cubicles were all empty. You tried calling out her name, calling her on your phone, but the little shit didn't answer. The pub was now reeling with people, with all levels of tipsy and drunk being shown by the dancing of the crowd. You were struggling to find your way back to your girls, forgetting the way you came. You gave up trying after five minutes, turning around and opening the bathroom doors once more.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, pushing and pinning you against one of the cubicle doors. It slammed shut, your back planted against the wood. You felt your hands fondle together, your heart racing at the hungry, lustful eyes of the woman in front of you. Her breath fanned over your face, causing your lips to fall agape, a loss of words leaving you speechless. It wasn't long until Katie's lips were on your neck, this time on the opposite side, nibbling on your pulse point.

"You really can't hold it in, can you?" She uttered, her accent rasping as she spoke. You groaned at the notion of her fingers latching onto the top you were wearing, tugging it in warning before discarding it on the floor.

"What?" You sighed, hands wrapping around Katie's neck as she lifted you up, gripping your thighs as they swathed around her waist.

"On Fleming's lap, Kerr's hand on your arse. Are you always so desperate for attention?"

She wasted no time in moving her lips down to your breasts, freeing one of her hands from your thigh to massage the one she wasn't sucking.

"Katie—"

"Shut up."

You grind your hips against hers, hoping it will relieve the growing tension between your legs. With your bra still on, Katie laughs at your flushed state, pushing up the fabric of your skirt so it would bunch up against your hips.

"Did you shake everyone's hands?" She asked, her lips leaving your chest to move up to your face. She hadn't ever properly kissed you, so she made sure to hover as she waited for a reply, her fingers slowly squeezing the column of your neck.

You nodded, still trying to gain some friction, but were met with nothing. The only noise that came from your lips was a whine. Katie shook her head, kneading your thigh as she rubbed her nose up against yours. The action was intimate, but somehow Katie found a way to make it sensual.

“Use your words, Baby.” She made a point of tapping your neck with her finger, toying with your skirt as her hand crept up your thigh.

“I- mh… I did, Katie.”

“Good Girl.” She whispered, and you pushed your lips forward to catch the girl in a kiss. You were grateful she reciprocated with just as much force, asserting her dominance by bringing her hand up to your lips, dragging your bottom lip down, making you audibly cry out.

“You like that, do you?” She chuckled, her hand inching closer to your heat. “Had to shake everyone’s hands before getting off on my thigh, didn't you? Had to make sure you did as you were told.”

“Katie, please—”

“But good girls don't sit on other people’s laps, do they Baby?” She whispered, ghosting her hand over your underwear. “Answer me.”

“No, Katie.”

You pushed your head back against the door, groaning as Katie ran one of her fingers through your folds teasingly. Your legs gave way, no longer trying to hold yourself up around Katie’s waist. Despite the lack of warning, the Irish woman wasn't fazed at the sudden shift, instead using it to her advantage.

“Look at you… so desperate for attention. Is that why you landed on top of me today? Bent over for me and everything in a sold-out stadium weren't you?”

You felt her hand rub your clit, making you squirm. “You tripped me.” It was a whisper, but Katie heard it all the same.

Her eyebrows raised. “I did. But you went off before I could show everyone how well you could take me.”

Without warning, she slipped two of her fingers into you, gnawing at your neck as she thrust in and out of you rhythmically. You moaned, and blushed furiously because of it.

“Does Fleming touch you like this?”

“Can you fuck off about Jessie for one second?”

Katie scoffed, adding another finger, inserting her fingers into you until her knuckles were kneading your clit. You moaned at the sting, crying out when Katie didn't wait for you to adjust. She did this for a while, and you felt the coil in your stomach churn as she curled her fingers inside of you, slamming them as deep as she could, resonant and rigid strokes leaving you writhing in ecstasy.

“Katie— Katie—”

She stopped, her fingers leaving you clenching around nothing. You were so close, feeling your high fizzle out the moment her fingers moved to her lips.

“I asked you a fucking question. ‘Spose you just get too dumb when you're being fucked.”

You whined, your hands clawing her biceps, beyond annoyed by the way she left you. “I- Jess and I are friends.”

“I bet Fleming wasn't too happy when you scored that double against her in the World Cup.”

You gaped at Katie, legs shaking and lips puffy. “You definitely weren't when I scored against you.”

Katie was off you now, standing against the bathroom sink, watching as you tried to fix your skirt.

“What happened today then, hm? Miss Australia lost her touch as soon as she was bent over.”

“Stop calling me that. And I wasn't bent over, you tripped me!”

“Did I tell ‘ya to fix your skirt?” She ordered, crossing her arms over her chest when you sauntered in front of her.

“You’re not the boss of me, McCabe.”

“Then how ‘bout you show me some personal autonomy and get yourself off?” She quipped, lust flooding her eyes. She propped herself on the sink, watching intently as your eyes widened at her suggestion. It seemed that all of your prior confidence had dispersed.

“I'm not doing that in here.” You muttered, suddenly repentant of the setting you were in.

“You nearly just came on my fingers. What's the difference?”

Whatever dominance you seemed to gain over Katie didn't work, the woman making no sign of backing down from her proposition.

“I— Katie… I'm not going to beg.”

She simply hummed, causing you to sigh. You were desperate for a release ever since that afternoon when you had been too stubborn to get off her knee, feeling the desperation of your hormones haunt you ever since. The thought of getting yourself off in front of the girl you hated so much made you squirm. The thought of someone walking in and seeing such an illustrative sight would've sent you into a frenzy.

But all of these thoughts dispersed at the sight of Katie in front of you, leaning against the mirror with her signature smirk. You reeled in the jumper she was wearing that hit the veins and muscles of her arms you always looked at during games. You noticed the crumple of her trousers, where you had inevitably been. Her hair was sweaty, her cheeks tinted at the sight of your unruliness. It made you repent. It made you want Katie even more.

“I want you.” You stated matter of factly, walking forward so that you were standing in between her legs.

“Do you now?” She looked down at you possessively, pretending to be in deep thought.

You nodded. She leaned in, taking hold of your chin. “Beg for it, Baby.”

She moved down from her place on the counter, dragging you to face the mirror. Pushing your hips against the cool marble surface, you watched as Katie caged your figure, sucking gently on your shoulder, taking her sweet time to reach your preexisting hickeys.

“Please, Katie, I need you so bad.” You whined, feeling her hips grind into you from behind. “I need you, you— you make me feel so good. Want you really bad.”

“Mhm, what else, baby?” She continued to place wet, sloppy kisses up your neck, licking across the new bruises, smirking at the mess she was turning you into.

“Wanna feel you inside of me. Wanna cum so hard from your fingers and your mouth, everything. Just want you to touch me, use me. Please use me, Baby, I‘ll do anything.”

The nickname she had been calling you fell from your lips before you had the chance to stop yourself. You knew that Katie would never let you live this down, but, for utterly selfish reasons, you made sure your voice was extra whiny, extra innocent, hoping your plea would help you get off.

Katie stopped kissing you, turning you around and smashing her lips up against yours. You knew your begging had worked when her fingers worked their way back into your underwear. When she entered two of her fingers this time, you weren't surprised at the lack of warning. Instead, you relished the feeling of pleasure shivering through your body. You moaned as her knuckles grazed over your clit, her hips pushing her further into the counter, making you lean back on your elbows.

“Bent back for you, Baby.” You moaned, hoping she’d keep going if you were louder. “I want to be— wanna be good.”

“That's it, nice and loud for me. Wanted me so bad you needed to beg. Good girls get rewards; don't they, baby girl?”

You groaned as she pounded into you relentlessly, her spare hand holding your hips in place as you neared your high. Katie felt your walls clench around her fingers, the wet juices of your arousal squelching in and out, coating Katie’s fingers. The sound of your wetness, alongside your moans, echoed throughout the bathroom, earning Katie to groan and the smell of sex surrounding you two.

“I’m— close.” You chocked out, feeling your clit grow sensitive as Katie’s knuckles pinched it hard.

Katie groaned, the sight of her head falling back bringing you to the brink of falling over the edge. “Ask nicely.”

“Please, Baby, I need to so bad. Want to cum around your fingers, please? Please, Baby.”

“Be a good girl for me, baby girl. Let it out. Show me who makes you feel this way.”

You felt Katie thrust into you harder and faster, causing you to let go of the pent-up climax closing in on you.

She continued to hit your G-spot deeply as you rode out your high, feeling your orgasm leak all over her fingers and into her hand. You cried out at the relief of it all, trying to catch your breath by settling into your elbows. You found Katie watching you recover, her lips swollen and eyes fully blown in euphoria at the sight of you post-sex. Her hair was messier than before, her smirk widening as you tried to stand up properly, whining when your legs violently shook.

She kissed the alcove of her neck, taking off her jumper to reveal a vest that displayed her arms in the perfect way.

“Should've taken that off before.” You managed to breathe out, accepting the way Katie scooped you up onto the counter, grabbing tissue paper and running it underwater, letting you fix your clothes up. You did this by putting your shirt back on and fixing your underwear.

“Put that jumper on.” She muttered, moving over to you, using her hands to open your legs. She began to clean up your thighs, which had been covered in sweat and arousal that couldn't have been concealed underneath your short skirt.

“Why?” You sighed at the cool temperature of the tissue, turning the top half of your body to face the mirror, nearly choking on air when you saw the number of hickeys decorating your neck.

“Oh my fucking god, Katie. I've got training tomorrow!”

Katie straightened up after cleaning you, flushing the tissue down the toilet. She walked up to stand between your legs, smiling at the bruises littering your neck and chest.

“Will Fleming be there?”

You scoffed, observant of the way Katie rubbed your thighs. “Obviously.”

“Then I've done my job well.”

You tried to hide your smile by picking up your phone, eyes bulging when you saw the missed calls from Kyra.

Now you were fucked.

[archangeldyke-all]

No bc I keep thinking of modern Sev trying to get into the dating game because she wants to settle down and she gets on a dating app because Jinx had mentioned in a conversation with Silco and she ends up matching with reader,,, ahh it’s stuck in my brain

i changed this just a bit to make jinx even more of a shithead hehehe i hope u love it

men and minors dni

"aunt sevy." sevika rolls her eyes at the nickname she hates, and looks up from her book at jinx.

the girl's ten years old now, old enough to know just the right buttons to push to annoy sevika. and sevika's stuck on babysitting duty, because she's an idiot and agreed to be the shithead's godmother when jinx was still a harmless, quiet baby.

"what?" she grunts.

"why don't you have a wife?" jinx asks.

sevika groans. "did your dad put you up to this?" she asks. silco's been bothering her about the same thing lately.

"no." she says. "'m jus' wonderin'. when we have birthday parties and stuff, all the adults bring their boyfriends and girlfriends and wives. but you never do. why not?" jinx asks.

sevika tries her best not to kick jinx's shin. she manages, but not without flicking the kid's forehead.

the truth is that sevika's been asking herself the same thing lately. but she's realized that after so many years of emotionless hook-ups, she's got no idea how a relationship would even fucking work, and she's decided it's easier for everyone if she just... doesn't try.

"mind your own buisness." sevika grunts eventually. jinx studies her with those frighteningly inquisitive eyes of hers, before she smirks, turns on her heel, and runs to her room.

sevika's too relieved by jinx's disappearance that she doesn't even consider that the girl could be up to something.

three days later, sevika gets a call from silco at five in the morning.

"do you know what fucking time it is?" she groans into the receiver as she rubs her sleepy eyes.

"i'm sorry."

"what's so fuckin' important that you couldn't wait to tell me at work?" sevika asks.

silco's responding sigh is long enough for sevika's stomach to sink. "you should dress nice today. a suit, maybe, or at least nice slacks and a button up."

"why? do we have a meeting?"

"no." silco says. sevika waits for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. she huffs.

"silco what the fuck is going on?" she asks.

"you have a date tonight."

it's silent for a few moments. sevika tries to remember if she'd drunkinly given out her number to someone, or if silco asked her to butter up a client. she draws a blank. "...i do?" she asks.

silco sighs again. "jinx got the idea in her head that you need a wife, so she made you a dating profile."

"what?!"

"she's been cat fishing some poor person as you, and she's scheduled a date for the two of you tonight at seven."

"she what!?" sevika screams. her neighbor pounds on the wall that they share. sevika pounds right back. "silco, there is no way in hell i'm going on a date jinx set up for me."

"yes, i figured you'd say that." silco sighs. sevika's phone buzzes. "check your messages."

sevika pulls her phone away from her face and checks the new text sent from silco.

she gulps when your picture pops onto her screen.

you're... everything. if sevika was asked to describe her type, she'd have described you to a tee.

silco starts talking on the other line, and sevika blinks down at your picture one last time before pulling it back up to her face.

"fine." sevika grunts. she can hear silco's smile, and she huffs. "shut the fuck up. which suit should i wear?"

silco cackles on the other line.

sevika almost passes out when she meets you in person. you're stunning, and she's nervous, and she knows absolutely nothing about you even though it seems like jinx has told you everything about her.

it's only when you've ordered your dinner and are chatting over bread that sevika finally confesses.

"i have to tell you something." she mutters.

you pause mid-chew, your lame story about a fat squirrel you'd seen earlier today entirely forgotten at the sight of your gorgeous date's grimace. "don't tell me you're straight." you groan.

sevika cackles, and you relax a bit into your seat, smiling as you watch her catch her breath. "no!" she laughs. "god, no." she wipes her eyes. "i am very gay. and i find you..." she trails off, her eyes darting down to your lips for just a flash, before she blinks and shakes her head. "very attractive." she says.

you gulp, ignoring your sudden arousal. "so... what's the problem?" you ask.

sevika sighs and looks down at her hands. "you've been catfished."

you frown. "uh..." you study the woman in front of you. "you are sevika right? i mean... you look just like your pictures..."

sevika chuckles and shakes her head. "yes, that's me in those pictures. but you haven't been talking to me all week."

"so..." you're beyond confused. "who have i been talking to?" you ask.

sevika cringes. "my fucking shithead niece." she says.

relief floods your body. this isn't a scam or a fucked up prank-- it's a real date with a beautiful woman who's looking at you like she's expecting you to throw your glass of wine in her face.

instead, you burst into laughter. "you sound awfully fond of her."

sevika's stiff posture relaxes, and she huffs her own laugh. "she was cute before she could talk." she says, shrugging. you laugh even harder, reaching across the table to take sevika's hand and squeeze it as you try to compose yourself. "but now she's old enough to ask me why i'm still single and work a smartphone..."

"well, that explains why you had so many typos in your texts."

"oh, god." sevika groans.

"you misspelled 'restaurant' like five times."

"it's a hard word." she chuckles.

you pull the gorgeous woman's hand up to kiss her knuckles, and watch in fascination as all her worry and embarrassment melts away. "so." you say.

"so." sevika repeats.

"if you'd like to leave i understand, i won't be offended. i'm not sure i'd be into the dates my little cousins would pick out for me."

"no!" sevika shouts. she cringes as half the restaurant turns to look at her. you giggle. "no, that's not-- i really want to be here. i just-- i just wanted you to know that you weren't talking to me... you were talking to a ten year old."

it's quiet for a minute as you try to wrap your mind around the situation. so you'll have to re-introduce yourself to the woman in front of you-- that's fine. you're looking forward to getting to know her, and it seems like she wants to get to know you too.

you take a sip of your wine, then giggle when a thought occurs to you. "god, i'm so fucking glad i didn't try sexting with you." you say.

sevika bursts into surprised laughter, and she has to pinch herself to keep from launching over the table and kissing you.

(jinx never lets sevika live down the fact that she married the first person she picked out for her aunt.)

(jinx also officiates your wedding.)

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob

[avatar-anna]

Already Over

A story told through text!

Your ex (don't pick up!): So...same time again next weekend?

You: No.

You: That was the last time.

Your ex (don't pick up!): You said that last time

Your ex (don't pick up!): And the time before that...

Your ex (don't pick up!): Come on babe, when are you gonna drop the charade?

You: Three texts in a row? Someone's desperate

Your ex (don't pick up!): You drive me crazy baby. You always have.

You: Sorry. I'm serious this time.

Your ex (don't pick up!): You're really going to let THAT be the last time?

Your ex (don't pick up!): You didn't even get to sit on my face!

You: I'll live.

Your ex (don't pick up!): I won't!

Your ex (don't pick up!): And what about your tits? I need to say a proper goodbye

Your ex (don't pick up!): Please baby I'm aching for you

You: In the two years we were together I think that's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said

Your ex (don't pick up!): You're really going to be satisfied with that being the very last time? I just think we can do better

(five minutes later)

Your ex (don't pick up!): You're not answering because you know I'm right

You: I'm not answering because I'm not entertaining this conversation anymore

Your ex (don't pick up!): Because you know I'm right

You: We. Are. Not. Together. Anymore.

Your ex (don't pick up!): See you say that but then Saturday night rolls around and you're asking if I'll come over

Your ex (don't pick up!): But don't worry baby I won't judge you I promise. I'll even let you sit in my face even though you've been so mean

You: Don't hold your breath

(five days later)

You: You busy?

(six minutes later)

Your ex (don't pick up!): Already on my way

*.*

Ames👯‍♀️:: Seriously?

You: What? Did something happen at work?

Ames👯‍♀️: No...

Ames👯‍♀️: You're really gonna make me say it?

You: What are you talking about?

Ames👯‍♀️: I saw Harry sneaking off to his car this morning

You: It was the last time I swear!

Ames👯‍♀️: This wasn't the first time?! Y/n!!

You: I know I'm weak :(( We just have a lot of history and he just knows me so well and he's hard to resist when he wants something

Ames👯‍♀️: So are you back together then?

You: No of course not

Ames👯‍♀️: So you're just sleeping with him? I thought that wasn't what you wanted

You: No I swear that was the last time. It was just for closure or whatever. He's just...we have a lot of history you know?

You: And not to get into dirty details but he's just...so good you know?

Ames👯‍♀️: Yeah please don't elaborate

Ames👯‍♀️: You have to stop seeing him babe

You: I know. I think I got it out of my system

Ames👯‍♀️: Next weekend we're going out to take your mind off him. We'll get dressed up, go out the whole thing

You: Good idea!

Ames👯‍♀️: Try not to sleep with Harry until then

You: You have my word!

*.*

Harry: Hey I think I might've left a couple things last time I was over. Mind if I swing by?

Baby🍒: What did you leave? I'll get it together for you

Harry: You don't have to do that. I'll be quick I promise

Harry: Unless...

Baby 🍒: Unless what?

Harry: ;)))

Baby🍒: I already told you that was the last time

Baby🍒: And don't even start because it was a great last time

Harry: JUST great? What do I have to do to make it excellent?

Baby🍒: I'm not answering that

Harry: Sooo there's an answer??

Harry: Let's see...maybe riding my thigh? You've always had a thing for my tattoos

Baby🍒: Stop

Harry: Reverse cowgirl?

Baby🍒 is typing...

Harry: Reverse cowgirl in my shirt?

Baby🍒: I don't like this game

Harry: That's because I'm right

Harry: Oh I know! We didn't do it in the shower

Harry: Let me and the showerhead make it up to you. Please???

Baby🍒: Swing by in an hour. I'll have your stuff for you

Harry: And...

Baby🍒 sent an image

Harry: Fuck baby

Harry: I don't think I can wait an hour. I'm calling and you better pick up

*.*

Your ex (don't pick up!): Baby...

Your ex (don't pick up!): You're killing me

Your ex (don't pick up!): Posting a picture like that just to tease me? That's mean

Your ex (don't pick up!) sent an image

(ten minutes later)

Your ex (don't pick up!): Don't ignore me now baby. Let me know when you're back I'll come over

You: Not your baby Harry

Your ex (don't pick up!): Oh come on don't be like that

Your ex (don't pick up!): And since when do you call me Harry??

You: Leave me alone

You: I'm finally moving on from you

Your ex (don't pick up!): Really? So yesterday was the last last last last last time?

You: Yes. We broke up for a reason. I'm not falling back into old habits with you

Your ex (don't pick up!) is typing...

(one minute later)

Your ex (don't pick up!): That sounds like some shit Amy would say

You: You caught me. I confiscated Y/n's phone for the night. She's having fun and meeting new people that aren't you. Maybe she'll even go home with one of them

Your ex (don't pick up!) is typing...

Your ex (don't pick up!): Bullshit

Your ex (don't pick up!): She was in my bed last night. I'll spare you the details but I don't think she's interested in going home with someone else

You: Maybe she will maybe she won't. It's her choice. You two are broken up. It's time you start acting like it

Your ex (don't pick up!): What if I don't want to be? Y/n is the one who broke up with me out of nowhere

You: Because you took your relationship for granted! And she doesn't want to wait for you to grow up Harry. Let her find someone who deserves her

Your ex (don't pick up!): Fine. Whatever.

*.*

(the next day)

Harry: I didn't take my relationship with Y/n for granted did I?

Niall (Whore)an: ...

Harry: Seriously?!

Niall (Whore)an: not for granted but...

Niall (Whore)an: but you went out with her less and less in the last year

Niall (Whore)an: and to be honest even i had a hard time figuring out what the whole situation was between you two

Harry: So because I didn't want to suffocate my girlfriend I'm a bad boyfriend?

Niall (Whore)an: i didn't say that! need i remind you you came to me for help

Harry: I know I'm sorry

Harry: I just don't want her to move on. What do I do?

Niall (Whore)an: maybe stop sleeping with her and actually talk to her.

Niall (Whore)an: and don't bother pretending. i know you're still hooking up

Harry: I'm taking what I can get man. It's the cold shoulder unless we're fucking

Niall (Whore)an: don't. you need to show her you're more than just a late night booty call

Harry: You know I've never really done the whole relationship thing before. Y/n was the first and I clearly failed epically

Niall (Whore)an: what do you want then? a relationship or a situationship?

Harry: With her I always wanted more, but I don't know how to BE more

Niall (Whore)an: start with no more hooking up. she'll never see you as more if you keep giving in or offering yourself to her that way

Harry: What if that just pushes her away for good?

Niall (Whore)an: it won't

*.*

Baby🍒: Come over?

Harry: I can't. I promised Niall I'd be his wingman tonight

Baby🍒: You can come after? Amy's spending the night with her girlfriend

Harry: Must be nice

Baby🍒: What's that supposed to mean?

Harry: Nothing. I just can't tonight.

Baby🍒: You haven't come over in forever

Harry: Like you've said a hundred times, we're not together anymore

Baby🍒: When has that ever stopped you?

Harry: I guess I realized I want more

Harry: I know now that I wasn't the best boyfriend, but I want to be

Baby🍒: What are you saying H?

Harry: If you'll let me, I'd like a second chance. I want to take us seriously. I know I wasn't the best boyfriend in the world the first time around but maybe we can talk about it? Lay all our cards on the table and figure out where we go from there?

Baby🍒 is typing...

Baby🍒: I don't know if that's what I want

Baby🍒: We did this whole back and forth thing for two whole years and you're now realizing you're ready for a relationship? I just think that window is closed

(four minutes later)

Baby🍒: H?

Harry: I get it. I'm sorry I couldn't get my act together soon enough for you

Harry: I hope you find someone who gives you exactly what you need

Baby🍒: Thank you

*.*

(one month later)

You are typing...

You are typing...

You: Hey

You: It was nice seeing you last night

Harry S.: Yeah. You looked good

You: So did you

You: Sorry if this is awkward I feel like I don't know how to talk to you

You: Maybe I shouldn't have said anything in the first place

Harry S.: Why did you?

You are typing...

You: I don't know

You: That's a lie. I know exactly why but it's embarrassing

Harry S.: What is?

You: I saw you

Harry S.: I know I saw you too

You: No I mean I SAW you. With another girl

Harry S.: Oh

You: And I guess I just got jealous which is totally stupid

You: But I think it made me realize what we could've had

You: And that sucks because I still really care about you even though I tried to pretend I didn't. I just didn't want you to hurt me anymore than you already had

You: You were ready and I pushed you away when maybe I shouldn't have

Harry S. is typing...

Harry S. is typing...

(five minutes later)

You: And...I've definitely scared you off. Or your girlfriend saw this

You: I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything

(twenty minutes later)

Harry S.: Where are you?

(ten minutes later)

You: What?

You: Sorry I just got out of the shower

You: Is that you banging on the door??

Harry S.: Yes!!

Harry S.: Come answer it it's freezing out here!

You: I thought you were with that girl

Harry S.: She came up to me at the bar

Harry S.: I haven't been with anyone since we broke up. I told you I was serious baby

You: You waited for me?

Harry S.: Of course baby

Harry S.: Now can you let me in so I can confess my undying love for you in person?

You: Coming!

Harry S.: You will be ;))

[solradguy]

hey whatever happened to that post of you defending sol x ky and sol x sin

Lmao. Ok. Alright. You know what? I've been putting up with this shit for six fucking months now. I'm done with you, Xavier, and your little echo chamber on Discord. You're telling people I'm into pedo shit now and you're straight up pulling it out of your ass. I'd call you out by your handles but you're a coward that gets everyone else to do your dirty work for you.

Six. Fucking. Months.

I haven't posted anything about you publicly, and have never said a single word to you, because of the sake of the wiki and the people in that project that are/were friends with you, and cared about you. But it's clear you're absolutely out of your mind. You've crossed a line with this Sol/Sin shit. This probably isn't you that sent this ask, but I'd be willing to bet it's someone from your echo chamber Discord server because no one except the people in there hate me as much as you do. Even the transphobes on Twitter that sent me death threats have moved on better than you have.

Here's the entire story about my (not even direct) interaction with you and your server for everyone to know.

Back in March—which was nearly six months ago, I cannot stress that enough—you wanted to edit the Bedman page on the new wiki and put information on there that wasn't verifiable, namely that he was a legal adult. We had the page locked because of other people that wanted to vandalize it and weren't willing to unlock it for you specifically, but we were willing to put any additions on there that you suggested. One of our admins spoke with you to try to resolve this. You wanted full editing credits for everything put on there that was written by you. Even if you were editing the page yourself, that just isn't how wikis work. During all of this, we were made aware that you were shit talking us and writing death threats about us. You also trash talked my translations, for some reason. When the negotiations with our mod didn't give you the outcome you wanted, I believe our mod blocked you.

We thought that was the end of it. Over the past few months we'd get little updates about you from concerned people that thought we should know. Other than those updates, we forgot you even existed.

Last night I was made aware that you've been stalking my blog, and trash talking me, for the past six months, and now spreading rumors that I'm into Sol/Sin. I made two vague posts about it, the first ones I've made since this situation started six fucking months ago. I deleted them after being told they were making the situation worse, which they were. You've also been manipulating one of my friends and saying you would kill yourself if any more posts were made about you or this situation.

Then I got this ask.

Xavier: You're a lying, manipulative, piece of shit that needs to stay in his damn lane. I'm sorry for whatever situation led you to become this obsessive over not being able to edit a VIDEO GAME WIKI PAGE to say that the maybe-minor is legally fuckable, but it's not my problem. Guilty Gear and Bedman are clearly bad for your mental health if you're still this mad at ONE PERSON who HASN'T EVEN SPOKEN TO YOU for as long as half a year now. You've made me out to be a demon in your mind entirely based on vague interactions and reading too much into my Tumblr posts that were never about you.

Move the fuck on already. I have never spoken to you, I hardly know who you are, and yet you still hate me so much.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

HIIII!!

Can I get 122 "I'm not going anywhere" with Jamie??

Hurt/comfort maybe?? BUt idrc go with it where you will!!!!

(aaahh! yes! absolutely! here you go! hope you like it! <3)

Stay Right Here

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x GN!Reader

You've heard it all from the press, hell, even from some of Jamie's teammates. It didn't bother you. It never used to bother you, but now it was starting to.

See, you're just a regular person. You own and work at a cafe in Richmond. That's where you met, Jamie. You knew who he was, but didn't care too much about him. But he was nice to you as he ordered a croissant and a black coffee. He sat himself in the back corner, hoodie up, sunglasses on so people wouldn't bother him. He kept to himself as he scrolled on his phone.

He started coming in a lot more after that day. He liked how your cafe wasn't as busy as the other one he used to frequent.

You'd serve his drink and he'd ask you questions, whether they were about life or yourself, it was nice talking to him.

Then he did the unexpected: he asked you out on a date.

You thought he was fucking with you at first so you laughed at him. But then you saw how upset he got and then realized he was being serious.

"Sorry, I just-why me? Aren't guys like you supposed to be dating actresses or models? I mean, shit, your last girlfriend was Keeley fucking Jones!"

He shrugged, "Dunno what it is about you, but I like you. You're real, like. You're not afraid to say shit to me. You talk to me like I'm not a famous footballer, like I'm just Jamie. Listen, I like you, but you don't have to go out with me if you don't want to, yeah? I take consent seriously."

You giggle at him, "Alright. Tomorrow's Saturday and I like to close the cafe early so I can enjoy my night. You can take me out then."

"Fucking mint," he slaps a hand on his thigh in excitement and takes his to-go cup of coffee, bolting out of your cafe in excitement.

The date went well, as did the many ones after. Three years into dating and you're happy with Jamie. But you're not sure if he's still happy with you.

This all started because of some TMZ clip a friend sent you. It was footage of Jamie at dinner with a woman. The caption said that she was on Richmond's womens league. You watched as Jamie leaned in, whispering something into her ear and she bursts out laughing.

Usually paparazzi shots didn't get to you but this one did. The way he looked at her, spoke with her, his body language. It was very much giving the idea that he was interested in her. Who wouldn't though? She's a fit footballer just like he is. She's, quite literally, in the same league as Jamie.

Maybe this was the end of your relationship with him.

________________________

Ever since you saw that clip, you've been trying to read any signs that Jamie was going to break up with you. But he was behaving the same he always did. He'd kiss you before leaving for training, kiss you when he got back. He'd still drop you off at work before heading to the pitch. He'd hold your hand, tell you he loves you, he was the same just as before.

But you weren't.

Jamie could tell something was wrong, but you never said anything. Your smile stopped reaching your eyes. Your kisses with him were chaste. Shit, you didn't even face him when you two went to bed.

So when you pulled away from him when he tried to cuddle you during movie night, he had to know what was going on.

"Is something wrong?" he asks after pausing the movie.

You shrug, "Dunno, is there?"

He sighs, completely turning his body towards you, "You've been distant lately. Just trying to see what's goin' on. Did I do something?"

"Are you cheating on me?"

He looks at you with wide eyes, "What?! No!"

"Are you gonna break up with me?"

He shakes his head in confusion, "Lovey, what are you talking about? No! I'm not cheating on you and I'm not breaking up with you! What made you think that?"

You sigh, curling into yourself, as if protecting yourself, "I saw footage of you with one of the girls from the women's league. You looked...close. Sitting right next to her, whispering in her ear."

"When was this?"

"Last weekend."

"Tilda and I were the first ones to arrive at the restaurant. The music in there was pretty loud so we sat close together so we could hear each other. More people started arriving a little after. We weren't alone for long."

He reaches out and grabs your hand, "Y/N, I love you. And I mean it when I say it. There's no one else for me, but you."

"You say that now, but then someone prettier or more athletic or smarter or just so much better than me in general is gonna come around and you're gonna go running after them!"

"Says who? Lovey, do you really think so low of me that I'd do that?"

"..no, it's just...it's bound to happen right? Everyone's been saying it since we first started dating, I'm not like the other people you've dated. Hell, I even questioned why you wanted to date me when you asked me the very first time!"

Jamie scoots closer to you, hands gently cupping your face, "Listen to me, yeah. I. Love. You. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here with you until you don't want me no more. I don't care what people say, you're the one that makes me happy."

You look down at your lap in shame, "I'm sorry."

He shook his head and pulls you into his arms, "It's not your fault. It's everyone else's fault for not seeing that I'm perfectly happy with my lovey."

3 months later, Jamie posts a photo of you and he in Paris with you sporting a very shiny ring on your finger. The caption reading: Fuck all of you who doubted our relationship. We're stuck together forever now. #MeetTheTartts

[keirawantstocry]

that one time tubbo called pac a dilf 😵‍💫

okay wait…

young teacher tubbo and dilf pac comes to collect his son from class…..tubbos got such a crush on him and maybe he asks pac to stay back to talk about richas’s behaviour but it turns into something else….

you've come to the right person (guy who is obsessed with pacbo)

Tubbo wasn't quite sure how he ended up with this job. He had never in any of his years considered being a teacher of any sort. But after he adopted his daughter, he needed a second job. Mechanics weren't paying him enough. Luckily there was a daycare nearby that was hiring. It was a more difficult process than he had expected, much like the adoption. But he got it. 

His daughter stayed with her “other father”. Tom's name was always said in a sigh like that. They were young and stupid and drunk and Tubbo didn't know what he was doing when he signed the stupid paper that Tommy had slid him across the dirty bar table. 

Tommy, and unfortunately Molly, found it hilarious. They both insisted on watching Sunny while he was at work. Thankfully Sunny loved them. Tommy would do her hair in braids. It was something they did when they were younger. Tubbo remembered sitting in fields with Tommy's older cousin braiding his long hair. 

As soon as Tommy saw Sunny's thick 3C curls, he stayed up two nights in a row researching and watching video after video of how to do cornrows and other braids in her hair. 

Molly often sent him videos while he was at work on Sunny prattling on while Tommy listened intently, braiding her hair as best he could. As much as Tubbo joked about divorce and threatened, he was glad to have two people he loved watching his child and caring for them so well. 

He closed his laptop with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. He was the last one there, his co worker had to leave because she had to pick up her own child but they needed someone to watch the singular child whose parents were incredibly late. 

Opening his eyes, Tubbo stared down the young boy in front of him. 

He was a Latino boy, probably around 7 or 8 with an oversized yellow jersey that he wore every single day. He was staring at Tubbo with large brown eyes. It was almost unnerving but he was a cute, decently well mannered child. 

Tubbo remembered the day he joined the daycare. A man with shoulder length brown hair and a singular white streak through it brought him in and explained how the boy had been born without part of his leg but was still very capable of movement with the prosthetic his Pai had made him. 

The owner of the daycare had nodded, assuring the man over and over that his child would be well cared for and that they would make sure the other children didn't say anything nasty as children tended to do. 

Richas, Tubbo remembered, as he continued to stare down the boy. His name was Richas. 

“Hello,” he said. 

The boy grinned. “Ola!” 

Tubbo laughed at his enthusiasm before picking up his phone to attempt to call the boy's parents once again. It rang and rang, like it had three times before click. 

“Holy shit, we are so sorry. Our schedule got all mixed up and we didn't know who was supposed to pick him up today. Fuck!” 

“Hey, hey,” Tubbo said calmly. “It's okay. I'm here with him. Get here whenever you can.” 

The voice on the phone that Tubbo didn't recognize took a few deep breaths. “Sim, sim, of course. Peqi is on his way already. He should be there any minute.” 

Tubbo smiled at Richas who bounced up and down excitedly, trying to climb up the front of the desk to reach the phone. “Sounds good, Mr…?” 

The voice laughed. “Just call me Mike yeah?” 

Richas made the saddest noise possible and Tubbo's heart melted. “Wait, before you go, I think he wants to talk to you.” 

He removed the phone from the side of his ear and carefully handed it to the boy who cradled it with both hands and held it up to his mouth. “OI, PAI.” 

Mike's voice came through quietly. “Oi, Richas. Você está sendo bom?” 

“Sim, sim,” the boy sang happily. “Eu sou bom.” 

“Bom menino. Pai Pac will be there soon okay?” 

“Okay, okay.” 

“Eu te amo.” 

“Eu também te amo.” 

The phone clicked, ending the call and Richas handed it back to Tubbo with a smile. Not even five seconds after the phone was back in his hand, the door slammed open. Standing in the now open doorway was a frazzled and incredibly attractive man. 

Richas ran over, bounding easily into his arms. 

“Richarlyson!” the man cooed, swinging him back and forth in his arms. He met Tubbo's eyes over his son's head. ‘Thank you’ he mouthed. 

Tubbo was almost too stunned to nod but he managed to as Richas's father slowly lowered him to the ground to step over to Tubbo. 

“I have to sign him out, yes?” 

Tubbo nodded, still speechless. He cleared his throat and slid the sign-out sheet across the desk. “Yeah, uh, yeah.” 

The man, Pac, from the signs of his scribbled signature, smiled blindingly at him, his son clinging to his leg. 

Tubbo noticed at that moment that Pac had a near identical prosthetic to his son. “You match,” he said before mentally slapping himself. You don't just fucking point out a man's prosthetic, no fucking wonder you're still married to Tommy. 

But Pac just laughed softly. “We do,” he said softly, rubbing the top of Richas's head. “He is very clearly my son.” 

“Are you his biological father?” Tubbo asked. Holy fucking shit, shut up you fucking idiot. He is so tired of you already, why are you asking so many questions? 

Pac just laughed softly again and the twist in Tubbo's chest felt like falling off a cliff. “Sim, yes, I am. I was the one who gave birth to him.” 

Tubbo stopped himself from asking any questions about that. He knew better than that at least. “That's really cool.” He tried a smile and felt so awkward. 

“Thank you,” Pac said. “And thank you for watching him past time. I know you probably have places to be.” 

Tubbo brushed him off with a wave of his hand. “Oh don't worry about it. My daughter is more than happy to spend more of their time with her ‘other father’.” Out of instinct, he raised his hands and made quotation marks with his hands. 

Pac raised an eyebrow curiously. 

Tubbo flushed. “A, uh, friend of mine. We got drunk married and now my daughter considers him her other father.”

Pac laughed. “No spouse of your own then? One that you're in love with anyway?” 

Tubbo flushed darker. “Ah, no. Just my husband and his girlfriend.” 

“Mmm,” Pac said, leaning over on the desk. “Good to know.” 

Tubbo froze in his spot as Pac's eyes, big and brown just like his son's, stared into his soul. He gulped before clearing his throat. “Yeah, uhmm, yeah.” The heat of his face was nearly unbearable. 

Richas gently smacked his dad on the leg. “Oi, stop that.” 

Pac leaned back, holding his hands up with an innocent expression. “What?? What?” 

The little boy glared at him with no heat. “Pai Mike told you to stop that.” 

“Well, Mikey isn't here right now is he? And he also has no control over my life.” Pac turned back to Tubbo and grabbed the pen again. He motioned towards Tubbo's arm which he held out willingly. 

Quickly the man scribbled a number onto his arm, his grip strong and warm. Tubbo felt dizzy. 

Pac dropped the pen with a smile and a wink before grabbing his son's hand. “Call me yeah?” 

Tubbo stared in disbelief, red as a beet. “...yeah,” he said softly as Pav happily bounded out the door, his son berating him in Portuguese. 

“Tommy,” he said softly when he got home, holding up his arm. “I think I got hit on.”

[renren-006]

Love Knot | Enemy's to Lovers

Wanda x Fem reader

plot: god you hated her...and the way she smiled so beautifully, but you had to kill her...right? (This is a bit of a longer one shot)

warning: love, enemy,

word count: 1614

a/n: hey!!! i am soooo happy to be posting another Wanda story!! incase anyone forgot shes my wife!! i hope you all enjoy the story and thank you to everyone who voted and contributed to helping me get to where we are!! alsoooo do you guys like me doing polls?? i think letting you guys have some sway in the story is fun but also you can submit requests for any specific storys or even if its a character and a short idea id love to hear it!

AO3 story- Love Knot

You hated her, you hated how she made you feel, how you screwed up missions when she was there, and how your boss wanted her dead. The hell were you supposed to do? For the last three years the two of you have been enemies, with a hint of flirtation. The run-ins with the two of you started when your boss wanted to test you, test your powers so he sent you somewhere he knew an Avenger would show up. It was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life coming face to face with the Scarlet Witch, you force and almost peed your pants you were so caught off guard and nervous. At the time you had not developed the extent of feelings you would have over the three years, making you hate her even more for that, but nonetheless at the time you were terrified towards her. Your shield created itself from your hands, the metal in your blood seeped out to create the weapon. She watched as it formed, merely entranced by your powers. 

“Is that all you do?” she asked, her Sikovian accent in her speech. Your own measly sound made its way out.

“No…cough No” You said. That catch almost made you look weak…almost. He laughed slightly at you and simply walked past you. What the fuck did she just walk away from me? you were baffled at what she just did, her suit swishing as she made her way down the hallway. 

“What…I'm sorry…why are you not fighting me?” You asked running after her, your eyebrows were up signaling to her that this in fact was your first time in a ‘fight’. She stopped and turned to you, pinning you to the wall with her powers, your blood sounded in your ears and your heart thumped away faster in your chest. 

“You've never done this before hu? Well little villain, I could kill you right now without even laying a finger on you but I won't, next time I hope you've trained more to fight me head on…sweetheart” she said all those things to you, leaving you stuttering at the wall and going home hours later after catching your breath and wrapping your mind around, her. 

About almost a year later you came face to face with her again, this time you had a bit more experience and you knew your powers better. You couldn't exactly remember why you were there at the same time she was, maybe it had been a coincidence or maybe it had not, you didn't really know. She stood in front of you, eying you up and down. 

“Here for a mission or just to see me?” You asked her, ketting cocky and flirting was the only way you were going to make it out of this interaction with at least some part of your pride. You didn't think you could win but you also didn't want her to know that. 

“I'm on a mission, little villain” She said to you, annoyance and slight amusement coursed through her words. She wanted to be annoyed that you were there but she also wasn't exactly happy about having to go through the interaction. 

“My name isn't little villain” 

“Oh? Then what is it?” she asked me, cocking her head to the side. 

“Y/H/N” You told her, she smirked. 

“What's your real name?” she asked. A genuine question from the witch. You froze, your boss's words flowing through your head. 

“Never give out your real name, they will find you or your family. We cant risk you fucking up this group.” Your boss said, harsh words towards you. You nodded your head. “Your only here because of your power, don't forget that” 

 “Y/N” you told her, letting your name slip from your lips. She smiled at you. 

“Well, little villain Y/N, it's good to be your enemy,” she said. Her hands started glowing red and before you could even create a shield from your metal you were out. Once you woke up you realized that you were lying on the ground, alarms blaring and you had just messed up another mission. Your boss was going to be seriously mad. 

The next few months were some of the harshest training you had endured, and all because you let Wanda get in your head and distract you. Your boss was exhausted from your run-ins and wanted her to pay. You did too, you wanted to prove yourself, but it seemed hard to both prove to her you were a villain and succeed in your mission. It took you a longer time before he let you go out, six months since you saw wanda you were sent out on another mission. 

This next mission you had included stealing equipment from an old SHIELD building. You had more training and you knew and worked with your powers more fluidly. You walked into the door, careful about alarms or other triggers that one of the Avengers would show up. The building was quiet, nothing moved and no rumble through your skin of any movement on the metal around you. This building was completely abandoned. You crept your way down to their lab, hoping to find anything on the list of things you needed to grab. It wasn't until you were almost there that a small woosh of power flooded your senses. She was here. You looked up and there she was floating down towards you. You made a shield and swords, getting ready for whatever fight was going to happen. 

“Well look at you, better handle your powers now sweetheart” she said once she was on the floor next to you. You nodded and straightened your back, nerves running through you. Your heart rate increased at the flirtations name calling. “You seem…different”

“Just ready for a fight now, ready to complete this mission”

“Ah, your boss is mad at you. Little Villain” She said smirking and giving you a once over. 

“Only because of you” “Me? Why I'm not the one who doesn't have a handle on her powers.” She told you, but she was mistaken. The metal under her feet began to mold and wrap around her feet. She looked down shocked to see what was happening. The burning in your head made you have to fold her sword and shield back into yourself. 

“Don't. Underestimate. Me.” you said, letting the metal in you wrap around her more keeping her in place. She smiled at you.

“I'd applaud if I had my hands available.” she told you. You gave her a look not letting her hands out knowing that's how she controlled her magic. You made your way swiftly into the lab room grabbing everything you could find on your list and walked back out a few moments later. Wanda was still trapped, but you knew you only had a little longer of strength to keep her there. She smiled at you when you let her go before you bolted out of the building leaving her there impressed by your use of your powers. 

He wanted her dead a year later. Your boss put a hit out on her for everything with the Avengers and also some personal vendetta against the witch. You hated her, yes, and wanted to prove you were powerful but you never wanted her dead. How could you when you liked her so much? You knew you had to do something…something to stop this. You knew you were enemies even if you didn't feel like it. That night you made the most drastic decision ever, you sent a message to the Avengers about the threat, and sat back and waited. 

Three days later the attacks started and of course you did your best to stay out of the way and not die. You knew she was here before she even landed in one of the hallways. The metal sung her song of magic shocking your veins. You could feel your boss, marching his way towards her. The security cameras, shit. He saw her arrive and was on a mission. You made your ebay up the stairs towards the top level of the facility. Once you got there the fighting had already broken out, and before you could even think you flung yourself into the conflict fighting your way over to her. Then there she was, you pulled her back and threw a shield up before your boss could throw his power at her, it reflected and hit him instead. She stared at you, eyes wide. 

“You sent it,” She said, looking deep into your eyes. 

“I did,” you told her. Once you lowered the shield your boss was in the group backing away. The other Avengers arrived to see him being held to the ground by your power. Wanda held her hand back before they could touch you, letting them know you were good, you were not a threat to them anymore. 

“Don't. Ever. underestimate me again. I'll defend her from you if you try to harm her again” you told him, crushing him more with your power and then letting him go so the others could finally lock him up.

“Well little villain, looks like i need to change your name. Little Hero” she told you, giving you a kiss on the cheek. 

“It's your fault too that I fell in love with you” you said, referencing when the former boss of yours was mad at you because of her. A smile fell onto her lips. 

“Well I could say the same thing," she responded. The two of you are happy to not be on either side of a fight anymore.

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Memories Part 3 (final)

Characters: Dean Winchester x Female Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel. Mick Davies. Mention of other SPN characters.

Warnings: memory wipe, language, angst, cute dean, fluff, not exactly cannon, light smut (more steamy than smutty) losing people, let me know if I forgot any.

A/N: This is the last chapter of my first-ever fanfic. Go easy on me. Thanks for the likes and the reblogs Enjoy

Summary: You've had your memory wiped and sent off to your death. Sam, Dean, and Cas save you just before it is too late. the guys struggle with being strangers to you after all the years you have shared. You are forced into a life-altering dilemma.

Word count: 5,217 words

************************************************************************

Your heart started racing. Your breath was unsteady.  Your hands slowly made their way up his arms up to his neck. You could feel the goosebumps on his skin just from your touch.  Staring into those mossy green eyes you tried to fight the urges. But fuck it right. You close your eyes and feel his hand on your face, gently rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “You sure, (y/n)?” he whispers. You don't say a word, you pull his lips into yours. Sparks flew. His lips were silky soft and so full. In this moment you felt the passion, the heat the two of you shared. And that heat turned into hunger. Into need. His tongue grazed your lips asking permission. You parted them granting it. You could taste the lingering whiskey. You felt his hands find their way to your ass. His large hands gripped it as he picked you up. Your legs automatically wrapped around his hips. Your fingertips gripping his back. You could feel him getting harder against you and that made your fire grow even hotter. You wanted him. You needed him. He carried you over to the bed, gently laid you down and you felt his weight follow. He kissed your lips, then trailed over your cheek, then down to your neck, planting soft kisses along the way. “God baby. I missed you so much.” his breath was hot against your skin. You didn't know what to say, it's not like you could say I missed you too. You started to think about the situation. Was this really fair to him? You liked Dean and obviously found him attractive. From the pictures you saw you knew you loved him before everything had happened, but without the memories could you reciprocate the love he had for you at this very minute? Tears started swelling in your eyes and spilled out before you could stop them.

“Hey. Hey.” he stopped everything and started wiping your tears. “What's wrong? “ he slid beside you and pulled you into his arms. “I'm sorry. I should have stopped. I should have… I just got caught up in the moment. I am so sorry.”

“You didn't do anything wrong Dean. I'm sorry.”

“Why the hell would you be sorry?”

Just then there was a knock on the door. “Hey guys,” Castiel called awkwardly through the door. 

“Yeah Cas,” Dean yelled with a sigh.

“Sam says he's not reheating the food again.”

Just the mention of food made you realize how hungry you were and your stomach started growling like crazy again. 

Dean looked at you with raised eyebrows. 

“What do you expect? I haven't eaten all day. The hosts of this place kinda suck. “ you teased.

He chuckled. “Are you sure you're ok? We’re ok?”

“Yes, Dean. I initiated it just as much as you. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“And you did?!” your stomach growled again. “We’ll finish this after you get some food.” you nodded.

He took your hand and led you out of the room. 

************************************************************************

“Finally. I’m Hank Marvin over here.” Mick exclaimed. He and Sam were at the set table, waiting. 

“Shut up and move over,” Dean told him. Mick did. Dean sat in the middle seat. He looked at you then the empty chair. You went over and sat down. Sam put some food on your plate with the biggest smile on his face. You look up and everyone is staring at you. You knit your brows and raise your chin. 

“What?!” 

Sam laughed. “Well try it.”

“Can we not start at (y/n) while she eats?” being the center of attention always made you uncomfortable. 

Everyone looked off in different directions smiling. Sam put some on his plate and then passed the dish to Cas. 

You took a bite. You gave a mmmm as you chewed. Sam looked pleased.

“Sam Winchester. This is freaking amazing!” You said after you swallowed. 

“I'm glad you approve.” He said giddily. 

You noticed Castiel giving you a strange Look. You raised an eyebrow. He shook his head and started eating. What the hell was that about? You decided you'd question him about it later. You didn't want to ruin the mood. 

After everyone was done you started gathering plates. “Thanks, Sam. That was great.”

“No problem. I can get those.”

“Um, no you cooked. I can clean up.”

“I'll help.” Dean offered. As he picked up the plates you couldn't carry.

“Sam, didn't you say you had a book you wanted to show me?” Castiel asked kinda weird and raised his eyebrows a couple of times.

Sam picked up on the hint. “Uh yeah, it's in the library.” He got up and started walking that way. 

“Okay,” Cas said as he got up and started following.

“What's going on? Why are you being weird?” Sam asked when they got far enough away. 

“Did anyone tell (y/n) your last name?” 

“I didn't, but I know she and Dean were looking at some pictures, maybe it came up?” 

“or she's remembering stuff on her own and not even realizing it.“Mick walked up to the other side of the table. 

“Can that happen?” Sam asked, “Is it bad?”

“ I know when she was at the base she started resisting and asking questions out of nowhere.”

A light bulb went on in Sam's head. “Cas, do you remember when I got my soul back and death put the wall up? I was told not to scratch, but I did and had to go through that whole soul journey thing. Then I remembered everything that happened while in the cage?” 

Castiels face lit up. “Yes, maybe it's just like that. Being here and looking at old pictures made her start to scratch. Now things are coming through.” 

They both looked at Mick. “ I guess you could describe it as something like that when they do a mind wipe, but I don't think the whole soul journey thing fits.” 

“So maybe you can break hers like you did mine.” 

“Which way would be easier on her?” Cas asked Mick. 

“I'm not really sure. I'm sorry lads I've never been this hands-on in a mind-wiping restoring memories case. And from what I've read nobody has ever scratched at the wall before.” He used air quotes while saying the metaphor. “I don't think either way is gonna be that easy on her though. Remembering all the bad shit at once is gonna be hard regardless.”

“I guess we'll just talk to her and see what she wants.”  

“Dean seems to think she might not even want them back at all.,” Sam confessed.

“I've already had this conversation with her. She definitely wants them back.”

************************************************************************

You start the dishwater as Dean brings the rest of the dirty dishes over. “I'll wash and rinse if you want to dry and put away?” You ask him. 

“Whatever you want princess.” he smiled. “ You wanna tell me why you seem to think you did something wrong?”

“Not really”

“You agreed.” you turned the water off and kept your eyes down. 

You took a deep breath and explained to him what was going on in your head. “ But when I get my memories back it will be better. I can love you the way you love me.”

“I ain't worried about me right now.”

“Well I am Pookie so get over it.”

“What the hell did you just call me?”

“What Pookie?” you chuckled “I was trying to annoy you enough to distract you from the conversation.” He stared at you with bewilderment. “Did it work?” you asked slowly. He turned and walked out without a word. You stood there dumbfounded. “Really Dean? it was just a joke..” You yelled and you were a little mad now. You followed him into the library.

“Sam!” 

“What's wrong?” Sam asked in dismay. 

“She just called me Pookie. She said she was trying to annoy me.”

Sam looked at you. Then his face lit up and you swear the corners of his mouth were touching his ears. 

“Um, does anyone wanna fill me in?” you asked.

Dean laughed. “ You used to call me Pookie all the damn time. At first, it was to annoy me. And oh did it annoy me. Then it just kinda stuck.” 

“Question,” Sam said, turning to Dean. “Did you tell (y/n) our last name at all?”

“No. I don't think so.”

“So she is remembering things.” Castiel chimed in. 

“Hello?! I'm the one everyone is talking about. Can we pretend like I have a right to be in the conversation?”

“ Sorry (y/n)” Sam apologized. He explained everything about getting his soul back, the wall, scratching it, and how Cas broke it. “ although I don't know if will be exactly like my experience. I lost my soul. I think the British men Of letters just put a blocker of some sort on your memories.” 

“Yes it's something like that, I do think it's gonna be hard for you to remember all the bad stuff at once, but I don't think it's going to be as bad as Sam's experience.”

“But won't she remember the good stuff too? Won’t it kinda balance out?” Dean asked. 

“Like I explained to your brother and Cas. I've never been this hands-on on a case like this before. So I'm not entirely sure how all this is gonna work. If she would rather Castiel break the wall.” Mick used air quotes again. “ We can try it. Or we can try sending someone in her brain. It's up To you love.” 

Everyone turned to you. “Um..” You didn't know what to say. You wanted your memories back, but The idea of sending someone into your brain freaked you out. 

“We could try to read more about it.” Sam offered. 

“I don't think there's much to read on it, Sam.” Castiel chimed in again. “I mean yes on the Men of Letters way, but we still wouldn't be able to compare the two”

“Well if we do it their way at least someone would be there to help her,” Dean said. 

“That's a good point,” Cas said. 

“Cas Just break it.” Everyone turned to you. “Seriously I'm tired of talking about it and the idea of sending someone into my mind freaks me the Fuck out.” 

“(Y/n) You sure?” Castiel asked you.

“Yep. Let's do it.” 

Cas walked up to you and started to lift His hand.

“Wait you're just gonna do it right here, right now?” Dean was kind of bummed you didn't want his help, but he understood and respected your privacy. He turned to you. “ when Sam’s broke he passed out. I think you should lie or at least sit down just in case. Cas takes her upstairs. Either her room or the cave.”

“But Dean… “ Sam started to argue 

“Cas will yell if he needs us, Sammy. She doesn't need to be stared at while going through this.”

Aw, my hero you thought. You kissed him on the cheek. Then you and Cas walked out. 

“I think she will be fine. Maybe depressed for a day or two, but she's tough and I really don't think it's gonna be the same as Sam's experience.” Mick encouraged them. 

“Yeah. I know.” Dean said. 

************************************************************************

Castiel stopped in front of the hallway leading to your room. “ Where do you want to do this (y/n)?”

“I don't care. I just wana get this over with Cas.” 

He continued down the hallway. “The couch Dean put in the cave is ridiculously comfy.”

“Awesome,” you said in a sarcastic tone. 

“Don't be scared.”

“Easier said than done, buddy,”

“I know, but if I truly thought you were going to not be okay after I wouldn't have agreed to do this. 

You guys made it to the cave. There was a big TV on the wall, a huge couch, and a bar in the corner. Simple but it had a cozy feel to it. You plumped down on the couch. “Oh wow, this is super comfy.”

“Well, I told you.” He paused and sat beside you. “ Are you ready for this?” 

“Yes.”

“I suggest trying to focus on the good memories. It might make it easier.”

“Okay”

You were nervous, but you trusted these guys 100% you knew they loved and cared for you. 

“3…  2…  1…” You felt his fingers on your forehead.

There was a heat coming off of them, but it wasn't physically painful though. Then all of a sudden memories just started flashing in your mind. 

Your first date with Dean, you guys were 16. He packed a picnic basket of your favorite takeout. After eating, you spent the rest of the night cuddled up talking, laughing, and star-gazing by the lake.  Aw the lake, so many firsts there, first date, first kiss, losing your virginities in the back of the impala. It became our spot and your favorite spot in the world, Right down the road from Bobby’s. 

Oh, Bobby Singer. You knew him your whole life. He was your non-biological father. The tears started falling. The love you have for that man is unfathomable. He taught you everything you knew about hunting and life. He was there for you when you had no one. He helped you through so much. He would always look after you when your mom went on a hunt. He went through all the steps to legally adopt you when she was killed.  

Your mother. So strong so independent. The only person you ever saw her lea on was Bobby. Everyone is always saying you are just like her. She was your rock. Your safe space. Taken from you at such a young age. You begged her to take you with her on her last hunt. She was hunting a rugaru in Oregon and said you weren’t ready yet. Maybe she was right. You were only 14 at the time. But maybe you could have helped. Maybe you could have saved her. It killed you that you would never know. You openly sobbed now.

You heard Castiel's voice. “Think of a good memory.”  Good memory. Good memory you thought. It was the first time Dean told you he loved you.  It was after your first hunt together. You were 19  and it was the first time you got fatally hurt. He was sitting beside your hospital bed and thought you were asleep. “You can't leave me, I love you.” That was his exact words. 10 years later he finally openly said it to you. After all the years you had spent apart and after he came back from hell. 

You thought about the time you spent apart. You guys were 22. Dean was always on the road with John. Who didn't really think Dean should be tied down. “You have a job to do Son, and being that involved with someone could cloud your decision-making. Not to mention if anything happened to either of you. A hunter’s life doesn't have a place for spouses” You could hear John’s voice in your head. Maybe his dad finally brainwashed him. Maybe he didn't have Sam telling him to hold on anymore. Maybe he was just young and didn't want to be tied down. Maybe it was the look in your eye every time he left that made him break things off. Doesn't matter the reason it still broke your heart. 

Bobby’s place held too many painful memories. You need a clean slate. You needed someplace new with no memories of Dean Winchester. 

So Bobby called his friend in New England. She owned a hunter bar. He asked her if she needed someone to help out and hunt if need be. Ellen took you in with open arms. She became your aunt figure almost instantly. You would do anything she asked of you and more. The roadhouse became your second favorite spot. Flashes of you helping at the bar, Ash teaching you most of his computer skills, and knocking Jo down a peg on Big Game Hunter after she'd been hustling the guys all day. Jo was like your little sister. Although you guys didn't really get along at first, after about a year you guys were inseparable. She would always get so pissed when you went on a hunt. Ellen tried, but hunting was in your blood. You didn't stray too far away from the bar and since you had met Blake you never went alone. Blake was your unofficial boyfriend and hunting partner. You had a love for Blake, but nobody else would ever have your heart the way Dean did. You and Blake were together for about 3 years. You guys got into a fight and he went hunting alone. He never made it back. 

Your mother, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Ash, Blake. They were your family. They all held such a special place in your heart. And they were gone.

Your heartbeat became rapid. Your breaths were shallow and painful. You felt like you were going to pass out. You instinctively pulled your knees up and put your head between them hugging your lower legs. With the quick movement you fell over into Castiel’s Lap. he wrapped his arms around you while you openly sobbed.

************************************************************************

Dean was drumming his fingers on the table. “Dude. Stop. Like you said Cas will yell if something is wrong.” Sam said annoyed while on his laptop. 

“Yea. I can still worry though. Whatcha lookin' for over there?”

“Well, Jody called. She said there might be a case a couple of counties over from Sioux Falls. I was just looking into it.”

“Is it anything?”

“There are some signs of a ghoul.”

“You guys really aren't considering going on a hunt right now?!” Mick said as held two beers out for the boys. They reached up for them. They both nodded thanks as they took them. 

“ Of course not. I talked to Garth last night he's up in that area. He told me if I found anything interesting let him know and he’d check it out.” 

Dean pulled out his phone. He needed something to distract him, but before he could stop it he was texting Cas. How’s it going up there? He paused before he hit send and then deleted the message. He wanted to give you space and give Cas time to help you. He put his phone down on the table and started drumming his fingers again. Sam cleared his throat annoyed again.

“Yeah I’ll go find something to do,” he said as he stood up grabbing his beer and phone. He found himself wandering towards the garage. He flipped The lights on as he walked in. There was a car covered by a tarp that caught his eye. “Ah, perfect.” With everything That happened this project has slipped his mind. He walked over to the system that you had installed. He plugged his phone in and tapped Shuffle On the Playlist you made with him. Panama your favorite Van Halen song starts to play. He can't help But smile. He sings to himself as he walks over and pulls The tarp away. Revealing a 1971 Chevelle. It's a total mess. Rust everywhere, mismatched body pieces, vines growing in places, and broken windows. This was gonna be a big job, but he knew the look on your face when it was done would be worth it. He continued to sing and got to work. 

************************************************************************

You finally managed to stop crying, but just laid there, you didn’t know for how long. You had a pounding headache, and your eyes were swollen and sore. Castiel lightened his hold. 

“(y/u) do you need anything?” 

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?”

You shook your head again. 

He tightened his arms again and then let go. He walked over to the mini fridge behind the bar and brought a bottle of water back over to you  “ You should drink some.”

“I'm fine.” your voice cracked. 

“Please.” he pleaded. 

Damnit. You couldn't say no when he said please like That. With a heavy sigh, you sat up, took the water, and put it up to your lips. As it hit your throat you realized how thirsty you were and before you knew it the bottle was empty. 

“ Well you didn't have to drink it all in one go, but thank you,” Cas said with a smile. 

“You bet.” You raised your hands to your hand. God your head felt like it would explode. Castiel put his palm on the top of your head and suddenly the pain was gone. 

“Thank you.” You said looking up at him. He opened his mouth but you cut him off. “ For everything Cas. You have always been there for me and  You have saved me more times than I can count. I don't know what I would do without you. And not I'm Not just Talking about your angel healing powers.”

His eyes got a little misty. “ (y/n) You're welcome. Honestly, I don't know what I would do without you either. I will always be there for you.” 

You stood up a Little shaky And wrapped your arms around him. He reciprocated the hug.  

“You ok?” He asked pulling You back to look at you.

“I'm not 100%, but I'll get there.”  you smiled and he smiled back. “Well, we should probably go check on the boys.”  You squeezed him one more time and released him. 

You both headed for the door. 

“So.” Cas sat walking down the hall.”Can I hear one of those good memories?”

“Do you remember when we hunted down that Djinn? Just you and me.”

He chuckled. “I think that was my second or third hunt. Although I think you did most of the hunting. I was just there for moral support. 

“Yeah. You were pretty terrible.” you both chuckled “ But I think that's when you and I became best friends. So it's one of my favorites” You saw his cheeks get pink and he smiled.

You stopped in the hallway leading to your Bedroom. “I'm gonna freshen up real fast.” 

“Don't you want me to wait for you?”

“No, You don't have to. I'll just be a minute.” He gave you a questioning look. “Cas I'm good I swear.”

And you really were. Yes, you still felt the sadness, but you felt better than you had in months. 

“OK. Yell if you need anything.” He said as he started to walk away. 

You nodded and made your way to your bedroom. The room is even more heartwarming than when you entered it the other day. All the great memories in this room made most of the sadness slip away. You made sure not to look at the dresser, it was too soon for pictures. You went into the bathroom. You weren't planning on taking a shower, but it sounded too good to say no.

************************************************************************ 

Castiel made his way into the library. Sam and Mick were sitting at the first table. They both looked up. Sam was on the phone. He nodded when he saw Cas. “Yeah, Garth. I think there’s something there. If you could just take a look for me.”  “I'm not sure. Cas just walked in now. I'll call you back as soon as we find out everything.”  “Thanks, I will.” he tapped the phone and put it on the table. 

“So?” Sam asked as you looked up at Cas. 

“It was pretty rough. I've never seen (y/n) cry like that before, but she seems to be doing better. She's upstairs freshening up right now. I think she will be okay.”

Sam sighed in relief. “Good. So she remembers everything?”

“Yes. Everything.” Cas confirmed. 

“Good, good,” Mick said. 

Castiel said down with a heavy sigh. 

“You okay Cas?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, just hated seeing her in pain and there was literally nothing I could do.”

“I'm sure you helped her more than you know.” Sam comforted him. 

Cas looked around the room. “Where’s Dean?”

“Oh, Ringo Starr was getting on Sam’s nerves. So he kicked Dean out of the library.” Mick said chuckling

Cas and Sam both laughed. 

************************************************************************

Dean was working away. He had cleaned all the vines and guck off. Now he was working on buffing off the rust. His text tone went off on the loudspeakers. He dropped what he was doing and hurried to his phone. 

Cas: Where are you?

He couldn’t help but panic a little.

Dean: What's wrong? Is (y/n) okay?

Cas: Calm down she’s fine.  Where are you?

Dean: Garage. 

He hurried back over to the car to cover it. He didn't want you to see it until it was done. 

Dean was disappointed when Castiel walked in alone. 

Cas could see it on his face “ She went upstairs to refresh. She’s really going to be okay Dean.” he reassured him. 

Dean's face eased with relief. “Does she remember everything?” 

“Yes.”

“Good!” 

Castiel looked down at Dean’s coveralls they were filthy and then around the room “ What are you working on?” 

“You can’t say anything. Promis me Cas.”

“Okay?” 

They walked over to the tarp-covered car. Castiel’s eyes went wide when Dean peeled back the tarp. 

“Is that Bobby’s old Chevelle?”

“ She sure is,” Dean exclaimed very proud of himself. 

“How did you?”

“Well couple of years back Sammy and I saw it at his old place. I went back a couple of days later, borrowed a tow truck, and stashed it at Jody’s for a while. I wanted to wait until I had time to work on it before bringing it here. With all madness that we were going through I kinda forgot about it. 4 months ago Jody called me and told me she needed her barn back. I brought it here. With (y/n) missing, the only thing I could think about was finding her. So the Chevelle kinda slipped my mind again. I was getting on Sammy’s nerves earlier so I came here to find something to do. Kinda perfect I thought.”

“Dean. She’s really going to love it!”

Dean smiled. “I know! I still have a lot to do. It's going to be a complete restore.”

“But it will be worth it.”

“Absolutely!”  

“So how is she?”

Castiel explained everything while Dean got cleaned up. “Well, I'm glad she’s home with her memories back. I just hate she had to go through it all again.” Cas agreed with a nod and they walked towards to door. Dean stopped. “I gotta grab something. I’ll catch up.” Cas continued walking. 

Dean grabbed an item out of the Impala and headed toward the library.

************************************************************************

You felt so much more relaxed after your scorching hot shower. The memories you had in it didn't hurt either. You dried off as you made your way to the closet. You found your favorite pair of jeans and your favorite v-neck back t-shirt. You finished drying and then got dressed. You went into the bathroom and squeezed your hair with a towel. You put some mouse in your hand flipped your head down and scrunched your hair.  When you got just the right curl you flipped your head back up. Your eyes went to the small hook where your necklace should be. It wasn't there. It had been a long time, but you're pretty sure you left in the same place you always did before a hunt. So you slipped your boots on and headed for the garage. 

You made it to the bottom of the stairs. You swirled around to the garage and looked up.

There he was. The man that had your heart. Your whole body froze and your knees went weak. Butterflies dancing in your stomach. His spikey short brown hair. His face beaming with the biggest smile you've ever seen on his face.  The scruff on the lower half. He usually didn't let his facial hair grow out, but damn did it look good on him. Hell, everything looked good on him. He had the dark green henley on that you bought him. Clingy to his broad shoulders and muscular upper body. The jeans he had on snugging his hips just right. You took it all in. he took a step and you did the same your steps turning into a sprint the closer you got. His arms opened and you jumped into his embrace. Your lips were on his instantly. Your legs and arms are already wrapped around him. You realized you had been wrong about your favorite spot. Though you loved the lake nothing could ever compare to being in Dean’s arms. You put everything into that kiss. All the love and passion you have ever felt for him. And you could feel him doing the same.

He turned and took a couple of steps. You felt the wall on your back. You unwrapped your legs and your feet found the floor. You felt one of his hands on your neck while the other was supporting his weight above your head. He rested his forehead on yours. Your lips were still so close you could feel his rapid breaths on yours. 

“Baby.. “ he tried to say but you cut him off. 

“I know..” you knew he was going to say how much he missed you, but you didn't need to hear it. You already felt it. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a hug and his face found the crook of your neck. Your arms around his neck and head on his shoulder. He hugged hard once then pulled back some so he could see your face, your arms still around each other.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better now.”

He smiled. “Seriously?”

“Dean seriously. Yes, a lot of bad shit happened. Yes, it still hurts. But when I'm with you it hurts a lot less.” he smiled. “ and while we on on his subject. If you pull the shit of me being better off without you, or putting me in harm's way thing again I'm going to.” he cut you off with a kiss. It was short and sweet. But every kiss of Dean’s was great. 

“I got it,” he said chuckling. He turned to walk away and put his hand out for you.

“I gotta grab something outta the Impala real fast.” you turned to walk into the garage. He caught your arm and spun you back around. He pulled the chain with 2 wedding rings on it out of his pocket. You couldn't help but smile. Then pulled a single band out of his other pocket and put it on the chain with the other 2. 

“I think my mom would be elated to know her wedding ring is beside Karen’s and your mother’s.” He gestured to put it on. You grabbed your hair out of the way as you turned. “ around the neck of his oldest son’s true love.” your eyes watered. You turned around and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you. I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too baby, I'm so happy you’re back.”

[harlowhockeystick]

Dumbass - Adam Warlock

Adam is a tough guy, but he's also a hard headed dumbass who doesn't know when to stop, and who also doesn't know how to ask you to help him.

Adam Warlock x guardian!fem!reader

contains: inury, cussing, fighting, tension, stitching someone up. reader is human like quill, a lot of dialogue.

requested by the lovely @carliim mwah! <3

Adam was a dumbass. Grade A, classic, book defined dumbass. All he knew, all he was good at, was fighting. Defending, throwing punches, using his powers to tear others down. He didn't think, he didn't process, he just fought.

And that is how he ended up here, lying on the dirt with a gash on his shoulder and his uniform torn halfway off. Groaning in pain, unable to lift himself up off the ground. This is it, he thought to himself, this is my end.

"Goddamnit, Warlock."

Standing above him, a cloud of dusty haze surrounding the fighting grounds as the enemies laid dead on the ground, you shrugged looking down at the pitiful god beneath you. He groaned again once he made eye contact with you.

"How come I always have to clean up your messes?" You leaned down to help him stand up off of the ground. Draping his arm over your shoulder you helped him walk back to the ship. Both of you rolled your eyes at the team's comments, rocket's whistling and laughing.

You took him back to the medical bay where you began to patch and clean his wounds, taking care of him like you've done time and time again. Frankly, you were getting sick of it. You were tired of always having to pick him up off the ground, stitch him up, to only do the same thing again two weeks later.

"Why do you look like that?" he asked you, laying on the cool table while you cleaned out the gash would as best you can.

"Like what?"

"Like you're mad, like you want to punch me." Adam responded, his voice raspy but quiet as he laid at the mercy of your healing hands.

"Because I do. Each time I stitch you up, I hope it's the last. I'm tired of this shit," Adam winced as you began to thread stitches to his shoulder after the wound had been cleaned.

He scoffed at your words and rolled his eyes, "humans, you're so entitled." Adam winced again in pain when you pressed hard on his shoulder after his comment toward you.

"Gods, you're so fucking dumb."

You spent the rest of the time fixing his wounds ignoring his comments, groans, fits of rage he had against you. He always did this any time you cleaned him up. It was so unfortunate that you were the only one available to do it, wasn't it?

You sent him off to sleep while you cleaned the med bay, and to cool off. It always took everything in you to not rip his head off. You always thought to yourself that one of these days, he is going to cry for your help again, and you won't give it. One of these days...that's gonna happen.

"Mind if I sit?" Adam asked, standing behind you with a blanket wrapped over his shoulders.

"Kind of." He sat beside you anyway, not too close but not far enough where it was awkward. Adam rested his head on his hand which was propped up by his knee, staring out into space as he sat next to you in the cool night air.

Minutes of silence went by before he spoke, his low and raspy tone making goosebumps appear on your skin against your will.

"I don't intend to be so rude to you, I don't know why it's my first reaction." Adam admitted, looking down at the dirty ground beneath him. He heard you sigh and saw you shake your head, biting back a smile.

"I forget you're only...a few years old." You started in response, "it's because boys are mean to the girls they like. It's just...how it is."

Adam frowned, looking out into the stars. He felt bad. He didn't intend on hurting her feelings, he didn't like making her feel bad. He didn't like seeing that sad and depressed look on her face.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. You don't deserve to be treated like that, you are deserving of the stars and everything beyond them." Adam turned toward her, gracefully putting his hand on her knee.

She sighed, taking a deep breath looking over at him with heavy hooded eyes. "I know. Maybe one day you'll man up enough to give them to me."

masterlist | feedback

[theic-manic]

Hi, so this is going to be a bit of a long ask, and if you don't think you can answer that's absolutely fine, I would appreciate even being redirected to something/someone else.

I've always felt somewhat drawn to hellenism in the last three, two years. I was brought up christian but I never believed in that god, like absolute certainty. I was atheist for most of my life, but I couldn't find it in myself to be that completely skeptic if hellenism when I found out about it. Recently I felt particularly drawn to Apollo, like he outright popped into my head, so I decided to try for real this time, and called out to him, I study the ancient classics and I knew a decent bit about hellenism from my own research, but I went to look into Apollo more and SO much just aligned with my life right now.

We had this one day of blinding sun immediately after, and I was so happy since I felt that was an answer, I go to school very early so I saw the sun rise and in the evening I went out to thank Apollo for the day when the sun was going down.

What scares me is that since I've called out to Apollo, I've been tired, and it's not my "normal" tired. I can usually do things even if I haven't slept well in a while, but all of a sudden I'm tired all the time, from the moment I wake up to when I go to sleep. I tried sleeping more, didn't fix it. I genuely haven't been able to do anything for days, including things I told Apollo I'd do for him since I can't make proper offers yet (I live with my parents atm, not a minor tho). I said sorry but idk I'm worried the reason why all my energies are suddenly gone is because I upset him or someone else, and I would be happy to ask for forgiveness but I don't even really know how to understand WHO I've upset (from my understanding Apollo isn't tied to sleeping or tiredness, i thought illness but I don't have anything) or if I've upset anyone at all, and I was hoping for some tips from someone who had a bit more experience than me...?

Thank you so much for your time and your answer if you're able to write one to me!

Hey,

Thanks for the ask.

This is completely understandable and not unheard of among many of us...

Apollo is the god of plagues and diseases (among other things), so people prayed to him to be healed of the illnesses that he sent them.

He also had a history of giving people plagues and disease out of anger so I understand how you might think you've somehow enraged a deity however unlike Christian religion, it typically takes either someone of great importance or someone to fuck up royally to manage that and I honestly doubt that you've managed either.

There's just a solid chance that you've not set appropriate boundaries with Apollo and also others within your life.

In my intense and extensive experience as his devotee, if you're not doing what's required to look after yourself (such as not establishing boundaries with other people to ensure that you're not setting yourself on fire to keep others warm) he will absolutely knock you onto your arse (make you bedridden) to force such lessons.

The good news is that you have nobody to seek forgiveness from.

You need to do the following:

- Rule out all possible mundane causes such as diet, dehydration, stress, sleep disturbances, changes in medication, seasonal changes etc.

- Start setting boundaries with others to look after yourself.

Yes, that includes close friends and family.

- Start setting boundaries with Apollo (and any deity you worship).

I once had a migraine stop in its tracks because I asked, out loud, "what the actual fuck Apollo? You can't be making me ill whenever you need my attention, this is toxic as fuck".

But yeah, do those 3 dot points, and you should be okay.

Rest, hydrate and try to ponder what lessons on self care you may be needing to learn right now while making it clear to Apollo what your limits and boundaries are regarding worship and how he connects with you.

Sincerely,

An Apollo devotee hit with a random infection and lethargy as I am being reminded of this very lesson in boundaries being an act of self care myself.

[ashc-from-ao3]

You don't know what you've got till it's gone Tony stark x reader

Based off an Avengers click and drag I got where Tony was my lover but he also killed me. Warning ANGST goes from just after the first Iron Man movie until Civil War.

The last sound I expected to be my last was the sound of a repulser beam firing and two screams, my own filled with agony and Tony's filled with aguish and pain.

I should probably fill in the blanks here. My name is (Y/n) and I'm just a normal regular human being, I meet my boyfriend of two years ,Tony Stark, at a convention and he had tried to get a one night stand, when I had refused I apparently had caught his attention. Two days later he had sent me one hundred gold and red roses. They didn't last long. A week after that it was sweets. I had a dentist appointment the next week and threw them out. Two weeks after it was a 6-foot tall teddy bear, I admired the fact that the man kept trying and I love teddies so I kept that. Then started the cute messages he would leave on my answering machine when I would be gone at work. Then came the rent being payed for me. At this point I figured it was less about sex and more about the fact I had turned down the great Tony Stark.

The day I finally agreed to a date was a late December evening, I was at work when a spam email was sent to literally every computer in the office, now I knew it was spam and probably contained a virus so I didn't click on it. But the newest employee was a stupid bint and didn't listen to anyone and hated me so when I warned her she just glared at me and opened.the.FUCKING.EMAIL! When the suspected virus took over the company's server and started draining funds into an over seas account my stupid co-worker decided to blame it on me. Resulting in me not having a job, honestly I wasn't too worried, with Tony.....Mr.Stark still trying to win me over by paying for my rent and my saving I had enough to tide me over until I got a new job. I was okay with this turn of events until I got him and instead of the one or two cuties messages from Stark I had three messages from my mother. My father had passed away, I broke down crying, my family was from Canada and while I was only in New York I didn't know if I had the money in my savings to leave, tide me over on crappy food for a while yeah but not get to Canada.

A knock on my door became my saviour. I was still crying when the first one sounded. The second and third where more demanding until finally the fourth and fifth sets where down right frantic.

"(Y/N)? ARE YOU IN THERE?" The banging continued along with the yells from Tony of my name. Finally a repulser beam sounded and my door was blown to smitherines. I barley had the air or energy to scream, I just cried. A half second later I was wrapped in a comforting embrace.

"Oh god, I'm sorry if I scared you. I wanted to surprise you so I went to your work.....I know it's weird that I know where you work, live and what your number is but when I saw you at the convention I just really wanted to get to know you, you seemed like such an interesting person. When you turned me down I realized you thought I just wanted sex.....it was an idea but only after I had properly won you over, and let me tell you that is something I have NEVER done. I tried everything and I'm rambling." Tony looked so dustrught at the thought he was the reason for my break down. I sniffled and patted his arm.

"It's okay, you're not the reason I'm crying, please continue your story, distract me from the real reason I'm crying" Tony nodded and took a breath.

"I went to your work with reservations to a fancy new place and a nice dress and I thought it was a nice way to actually ask you out, when you weren't there I asked your boss and he told me you had gotten fired. By the way this one lady tried to get me to take her out in OUR date....she looked like a fucking banshee. I came over to look In on you,my heard you crying and I got worried. Maybe blasting your door apart wasent the best way to do it but I panicked." I sniffled again and sat up.

"I wasn't worried about losing my job, with you so graciously paying my rent I had enough to tide me over on ramen noodles until I had a new job......but my mother called my father was in car acdedent and died, my family lives in Canada and I don't have enough money to go to the funeral." Tony scowled for a second.

"Babe, I'll take you to see your family, I'll pay for the door and I'll do what ever you need me to until you are feeling better." I smiled shakily and hugged him.

"You don't just want sex or to claim a conquest do you? You actually want a relationship?" Tony nodded and I smiled a little, looks like things might just work out for me.

"In that case I would love to go out tonight, if the reservations are still good, and if you want to send me to see my family I should take you with me, I want them to know who helped me get there." Tony smiled brilliantly and dragged me down the hall asking me where my bathroom was, I pointed it out and he pushed me in gently.

"Put on the dress then open the door" I shrugged but did what he asked, as soon as I opened the door he was practically attacking me with makeup brushes.

"Tada! You look beautiful.....not that you don't always but now you look just wow" Tony was right, somehow this billionaire knew more about makeup than half the women I knew. He had expertly blended and shaded the makeup and it gave me back my glow, you would never know just moments before I was balling my eyes out. With a small giggle I threw my arms around Tony and gave him a peck on the cheek. Half an hour later we had finished our meal and where out dancing, Tony had requested one of my favourites can't help falling in love the Andrea bocellie version. After we had taken a walk along the beach just chatting and telling each other about ourselves, I agreed to more dates he had walked me home. Half a week later Tony had taken me to my parent's....my mom's house, the look of surprise on her face was enough to make me laugh just a little, throughout the entire thing Tony was very supporting and caring.

After my fathers funeral we had gone on several more dates and I quickly fell in love with the billionaire. One day ,after about a year, Tony asked me something huge he had asked me to move in with him. I had agreed in half a heartbeat and moved in. Tony had introduced me to the avengers, Steve was always a gentleman and it seemed to irk Tony, I made sure to reassure him that I loved him and while Steve was hot, he had clenched his jaw at that, he was smokin', sexy, absolutely perfect. That had cheered him up immediately. After a while of living with him Tony had set up a romantic scene on the roof of what was now called Avenger's tower, there where candles everywhere and roses to. Tony was in the middle of it all in my favorite tuxedo, when I approached him he had taken my hand and sunk down to one knee.

"(Y/n) at first you where a pretty face in the crowd, then you became a smart mind and pretty face, then you became someone I wanted to have with me forever, then you became my girlfriend, and then the most important person in my life. Sweetheart I would die for you,I would kill for you. Anything you want is yours, the only thing I can't offer is my heart....but that's because you stole it. (Y/n) (Y/last/n). Would you do me the honour of being mine for ever and marrying me?" With tears in my eyes and a happy smile I nodded and choked in a sob, I fanned my eyes and bent down to Tony and gave him a very salty kiss. Tony wrapped his arms around me and lifted me in the air, I could hear the sound of fireworks and I opened my eyes only to pull away from Tony and smack him in the chest with a grin. Red and gold fireworks had been shot into the night sky to spell out

She said yes

Underneath the Mark 40 suit was holding hand with a similar suit that looked more femanine

Our wedding was scheduled for the spring, Tony was going to take everyone invited to a beautiful island he had bought for our honeymoon. I was frantically planning, I couldn't decided between Wanda or Natasha for my maid of honour so I decided both of them would be, the wedding wasn't going to be very tradional anyway. Three months before the big day and the government had to come and ruin it.

They had decided the Tony and every other superhero needed to be under supervision, Tony had agreed and Steve had rebelled, it probably also had something to do with his old friend from the 40's being back, while Steve hadn't trusted Tony to tell him about Bucky but I had accidentally stumbled on the information and confronted him about it. After he had explained everything I had agreed to keep it a secret. The government was now tearing my family apart, Tony the love of my life, and all of my friend. People I now concerned family where fighting.

I had to stop this. Tony had ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y to lock me down but in a flash I had used the repulser beams in my "Iron Woman" suit, when Tony proposed he had given it to me, he had insisted I be safe when he was on missions, this was the first time I needed to use it and it felt strange. I landed just a few hundred meters from where I could see a fight about to start, with a burst of adrenalin I started racing towards it. I had just arrive when Tony lifted his hand and shit a repulser beam at Steve, the supersoldier had lifted his shield to deflect it but it hadn't even reached him, instead I was thrown backwards with a scream. A half second later I was surrounded. Tony had my head in his lap and was crying, the tears dropped on my face and I gasped, the rest, of the avengers had surrounded me I could see horror in all their eyes, I grinned a little, at least my death would bring them back together, even if it was just to mourn me.

"(Y/nn) baby, look at me. Listen you can't leave okay? I still haven't seen you walk down the aisle I still have had a heart attack when you announced you're pregnant, I still haven't had my hand broken when you're bringing our son or daughter into this world. I still haven't woken up at three in the morning to take care of him or her, I still haven't cried at their first day at school, I still have to beat boys off my daughter or encourage my son to ask that girl out, I have a future planned out for us, almost down to the second.....and you know how bad I am at planning. I have almost every detail planned for us so you can't leave me.....okay?" I smiled and sniffed, the actions though small caused me immense pain.

"I'm sorry baby, but I don't I-I-" I paused for a cough that brought up a large quantity of blood.

"I don't think I'm making it, I'm s-so-sorry I'm so sorry"

"NO! YOU CANT LEAVE ME, I WONT LET YOU! IF YOU LEAVE YOU VANT STOP ME FROM FOLLOWING" Tony's voice became softer after his outburst, his tears started interfering with his ability to talk and he choked on a sob.

"(Y/n) pl-please don't leave me, you can't leave me, you make me a better human than I actually am, you can't leave. You have to stay strong for me. I'll do what eve you want just stay with me, I'll even say that the government can go screw themselves, I'll do what ever you want just stay with me." Tony went to brush away a tear and he turned sharply towards Wanda and Pietro, for a second I thought I saw a flash of red in his eyes but I was dying, what did I know.

"Maximoff! Get her to a hospital, please, don't let her die because I'm stupid."

"To-Tony, there is nothing you can do, I'm dying babe. I'm so- I'm so-orry p, I'm so-"

the world went black around me and the last sound I heard on this earth was the hear wrenching scream of my fiancée as I left him.

[shimmerystyles]

New Year's Day - Harry x Reader (Part 2 to What are you doing, NYE?)

Summary: Harry's done a number on you in the last 12 hours. You've gone from fighting for your boyfriend's attention to having trouble having him leave you alone.

warnings: lots of arguing, alcohol/drug use, angst.

a/n: read part 1 here! otherwise you WILL NOT understand what's happening.

I WILL BE DOING A PART 3, A HAPPY PART 3! YAY!

word count: 3.8k

y/n outfits throughout the part 1 / 2 / 3 harry outfits 1 / 2

"What do you think about that Austin guy, Y/N? He somehow found my IG and I want to think we hit it off.. do you agree?" Liv twirled her hair as she stared down at her phone. You laid on your back, stared at the ceiling, feeling empty and broken. "I don't know, Liv. Why?" You said monotoned.

She looks at you for a split second before looking down at her phone again. "Babe, come on. I'm trying to have a conversation with you."

You sigh. "I'm sorry... I just can't focus on very much." She shifts herself to lay next to you, you both staring at the ceiling. "Listen, honey. I won't talk about men anymore unless you're okay to listen. Okay?" You nod and she takes your hand in hers, squeezing it softly.

You felt the space between the two of you vibrate slightly. You look over and grab your phone to see Harry, calling you once again.

Harry's been trying to get a hold of you since the early hours of the morning. You, rightfully so, have sent him to voicemail more often than not.

"That fucker needs to get a clue, he fucked up, it's not even been a day. Ever hear of space?" She takes the phone out of your hands and answers it.

"Styles. Fuck off." Liv mutters.

"C'mon Liv, let me talk to her."

"Let me ask her. Hey, Y/N, do you want to talk to your two timing, sorry excuse of an ex boyfriend right now? NO? Didn't think so. She doesn't want to you."

"I didn't even hear her voice, Liv. C'mon."

"Harry, if you call back this number again, there's no telling the cussing out I will be doing. Leave Y/N alone. She clearly needs time away from you, give her that."

She hangs up and throws the phone off the bed on the carpeted floor. You squeeze her hand, feeling a tear slide down your cheek and down the side of your neck. Liv takes her hand and wipes the tear as she takes you into her arms, your held in tears easily flowing as you softly sob into her chest.

As you feel the tears let up, Liv's phone rings and she grumbles softly. She looks at the caller ID and groans.

"Styles, what the fuck did I say to you?"

"You said if you call back this number again. That was Y/N's, this is yours."

"Don't fucking play my words against me. You need to take a fuckin' hint, Styles."

"At least let me sit on speaker so she can hear me out. Please. I'll hang up as soon as I'm done."

Liv groans and rolls her eyes. "The second I hear shit I don't like you're getting blocked. I will not have you use me and my phone as a way to get an in to Y/N/N"

She puts the phone on speaker and places it in front of you. "You look at me if anything needs to be done, okay?" You nod and Harry starts talking.

"Y/N I swear to god, I did not kiss that girl."

"Ahem, but you did." Liv cut in. You look up at her with squinted eyes and she throws her hands up in defence. "Well its TRUE."

"Y/N, that kiss, it meant nothing to me. You're the only thing I feel anything with and that goes for everything. You're my constant. The reason my world has such a bright sun, because you are that source of warmth and joy for me. You are my life. I don't want to live if you're not in my life."

"Styles. Skip the ass kissing, tell her why you did what you did." Liv crosses her arms and you give her a slight smirk. She winks and you both look back down at the phone.

------ FLASHBACK -------

11:59PM, 60 seconds to midnight.

"Fuck, where is she?" Harry mutters to himself, searching the room for you. He didn't know if you were back from the bathroom and were as frantic to look for him as well so he stayed put, just in case you popped up in front of him to be his first kiss of the new year.

"Hey, handsome." One of the girls came up to Harry, feeling up his bicep and he shutters in discomfort.

"Hey, have you seen Y/N?"

"Don't worry about her, let's worry about what's going to happen in the next 10 seconds." She gets closer to him and Harry takes a small step back.

3!

2!

1!

Before Harry could turn to walk away, he feels a pair of hands grab his face and crash their lips on his. Harry, full of alcohol and hungry for the lips of his girlfriend, kisses her back for one moment before realizing who is in front of him and he immediately pulls away. The girl smirks at him as Harry looks over in front of him.

There she was, the love of his life.

And she'd just caught him in the one thing he never thought he'd do to her.

"Y/N-"

He watches you run towards the crowd of people and he runs a hand through his hair. "Fuck, Y/N!" He yells as she storms into the crowd, hoping to find you before it's too late.

Too bad for Styles, he already messed up.

------ PRESENT -------

"Wow." You say in shock.

"WAAAAIT A FUCKIN SECOND." Liv interrupts. "You mean to fuckin' tell me, you thought about your girlfriend while kissing one of those bimbo girls you had been flirting with the entire night? No way in HELL would I ever believe that bullshit."

"Well, lucky for you Liv, you don't have to believe me. That's up to Y/N" He says cockily over the phone.

"God you're such a arrogant fuck aren't you? You-you have NO idea how badly I want to rip your dick off and feed it to-"

"Liv!" You exclaim, smacking her arm. "Relax."

She takes a deep breath, in and out, then calmly continues.

"You're lucky Y/N is still nice to your lying, cheating ass. I'd have you kicked to the curb for good hours ago, but she's a good person. You fucked up, big time Styles. It's up to Y/N to believe you, thats right, but I will smack her silly if she chooses the wrong choice."

"Babe, please, can we talk in person? I promise, if you don't want to see me again after that, I'll respect your wishes."

You sigh.

"Fine."

"Wait. Really?!" He says excitedly through the phone.

"I'll be coming." Liv interjects, you look at her and she smiles.

"Liv will be dropping me off, if you do anything else stupid I won't stop her from doing what she has to do. Understood?" You say picking the phone and holding your knees with your free arm.

"Deal. See you soon, darling."

You hear a click on the other end and Liv groans. "Why can't you just let me slap the shit out of that two timing-"

"LIV! I swear to all the heavens above, if you do anything unprovoked, I will be cabbing home and I'll break up with you too!"

She gasps. "Damn, Y/N/N. You're getting too feisty." She places her hand on her chest and you smirk.

"Learned from my drama queen of a best friend." She slaps your arm playfully. "I'm so proud of you." She pulls you into another hug and you both get up to change for.... whatever this was going to be.

You put your shoes on and take one last look at the outfit you have on in the mirror. You sigh as you throw your hair in a claw clip and Liv smiles softly.

"Even when you don't try, you look beautiful, Y/N."

You smile. "It's hard dating a celebrity. You always have to look "somewhat" presentable in case someone takes photos or videos of you."

"You ready?" Liv grabs her keys from the rack at the door and you nod, following her to the door.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

---

The car ride to the coffee shop Harry chose was quiet, Liv turned her bluetooth on and, what do you know...

"Can't get rid of this fucker, even on MY Spotify." Liv went to change the playlist but you stopped her.

"Don't. I actually don't mind listening to his voice." You smile softly and turn your body towards the window as you listened to Sweet Creature, one of his songs on his first album. You remember the first time Harry found out you listened to his music and your stomach fluttered.

----FLASHBACK----

"How was your tour rehearsal, babe?" You greet Harry as he enters your vehicle. He places a soft kiss on your lips and you smile. "I missed you, a lot."

You and Harry had been casually seeing each other for months now, but, he officially asked you to be his girlfriend just over 2 weeks ago. You and him were having a beautiful time. You respected his busy schedule as he did yours, but no matter what, there was always time to be together. Even if it meant you driving him from one rehearsal to the next.

"I missed you too, H. Where you headed next?" You pulled your seatbelt back on.

"Well, I have an hour and a half break before I have to be at the next rehearsal. Should we.." He eyeballs the back seat and you slap his arm.

"You're gonna need longer than that, Styles." He smirks and kisses you one more time.

"God, you're amazing." He mutters on your lips.

You break the kiss and smirk. "I know. That's why you like me." He chuckles and slides back into his seat.

"Let's get some food in your stomach before you have to go" You say pulling out your phone and finding a decent restaurant to find food for Harry. He smiles softly, taking your hand in his causing you to look over at him.

"You're always thinking of everyone else, Y/N. You really are amazing."

You smile. "I care a lot about you, H. I just want to make sure you are okay before I drop you off." He kisses you one more time causing you to giggle.

"H. I like the kisses, but I gotta drive now!"

"Alright, alright. Let's go, angel."

You turn the car on and your playlist turns on automatically, playing Sweet Creature, Harry's song. His eyes widen and smile grows big as you feel a blush creep on your cheeks, you frantically try to change it but he's already chuckling.

"You're a fan, huh babe?" He smirks, crossing his arms in satisfaction.

You roll your eyes at his comment, turning a corner.

"Well, duh. I do like you, remember?"

"Well yeah I get that, but I didn't know you listened to my old stuff too." He smiles and you laugh.

"Sweet Creature is probably my favourite of yours. It's a great song." He smiles. "Thanks babe."

You smile. "Don't let that go to your head though, Styles. I just know talent when I hear it."

He smirks. "Mhm. You tell yourself that."

You slap his arm playfully and he laughs.

You both sing along to his songs as they play, sometimes just letting him sing, mesmerized by your boyfriend's voice.

---

The song changed to Woman and Liv rolls her eyes again as your stomach twists.

---

"Harry, what are you doing?" You walked over to your boyfriend who was laughing his head off holding two beers and girls giggling at his demeanour while feeling up his chest.

"Harry, get up." You feel yourself fill with heat as he just stares at you with a cocky grin.

"Oooh, I'm in troubleeeee" He slurs while everyone laughs.

"GET YOUR ASS UP STYLES." You yell. The whole room goes silent and he scoffs. "Fine. Sorry, mates. Gotta go, mom's getting mad." He snickers and the girls all giggle at him, you drag him out of the room by his hand and out to the backyard of one of his friends' houses.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Styles?" You cross your arms and he just stands there, losing focus quickly.

"C'mon babe, I'm just havin' fuuuuun" He laughs and walks to you but you put your hand out to him.

"Harry, I'm serious. You haven't eaten anything, you're fuckin' hammered and you smell like skunk. Have you been smoking too?"

"Hehe, yeaaaaah. It's all in good fun, baby. You need to let looooose." He wraps his arm around your shoulder and you push him away.

"Harry, I'm taking you home."

"The fuck you're not." He gets aggressive. You sigh.

"Harry. You're drunk, high out of your mind, and you have nothing else in your system. You're gonna have a nasty crash in a couple hours and I don't trust a single person in here to not take advantage of you."

He grunts. "I can take care of myself." He crosses his arms.

You eye roll and walk away from him, he follows you. "C'mon, Y/N. We're not together right? You don't have to care so much."

You stopped in your tracks. "You're right, Styles. We're not together and I don't have to care, but I do. I care a lot because, together or not, you matter to me. I want to make sure you're safe. Clearly you don't have the same feelings for me so I'll do as you say. I won't care."

You turn back around and he sighs. "Y/N/N."

"What?" You spat. He walks over to you sloppily and almost falls. "I don't feel well."

You sigh. "Let's go, drunkie." You wrap his arm around your shoulders so he could lean on you.

"Y/N?" He mutters.

"Hmm."

"Thanks for caring so much."

"Always."

You drive him to his house and you park the car waiting for him to get out. He looks over at you with a grin. "Will you stay with me?"

"Styles-"

"Please?" He gives you a drunk puppy dog look and you smirk. "Fine, but i'm taking the couch." You turn the car off and walk over to his side to help him inside.

"Liv's gonna kill me for not coming home." You chuckle.

"She doesn't like me, huh Y/N?"

"Well...."

"That says enough right there." He smirks.

You walk him over to the stairs and he shakes his head. "I'm not getting up there. I'll sleep in the living room." He shuffles over to the couch and flops on it, causing you to giggle at him.

"Don't laugh." He mumbles, face first on the couch. You laugh at him some more and he lifts his face, smirking at you as you lose yourself in a fit of laughter.

"Woo, sorry." You calm yourself down and he groans, shifting himself into a comfortable position.

You walk to his kitchen and grab him 2 advil and a bottle of water. "Now, Harry. You haven't eaten, i'm sure you won't want to eat, but, I'm gonna-"

You look over at him and he's snoring. You smile and place the stuff on the table for him.

Searching through his fridge and freezer, you find a frozen pizza and pop it into the oven. You make yourself a tea while it cooks. Watching him sleep so deeply and soundly.

"You needed that sleep, H." You say softly to yourself.

You place the cooked pizza wrapped up in the fridge and quickly write a note.

You leave the note for Harry next to the advil.

Styles,

You're gonna be okay. I'm sleeping in the guest room upstairs and will likely be gone by the time you wake up.

There's veggie pizza waiting for you in the fridge.

Feel better, H.

Love, Y/N.

---

"Y/N/N, we're here." Liv pulls the car into park and you look over at her.

"Thanks, Liv. I'll call you if things go wrong."

"You better." She pats your thigh and you smile, grabbing your phone from the cup holder and sliding yourself out of the car.

You look up at the sign, sighing softly. "Here we go."

You walk in and see him, sunglasses on, in the corner of the shop. Two cups at his table and him tapping the top of his lid, people watching out the window. You smirk softly and walk over to him.

"You don't look suspicious at all." You sit down and his head jerks to your direction, his smile slowly appearing.

"I'm a little hungover and, well.. didn't really sleep well last night." He slips his sunglasses off and his eyes are bloodshot. Your smile fades as you see his distressed look.

"Harry...."

"I brought you here to explain myself, not for you to feel sorry for me. I don't deserve that. I don't deserve you."

You sigh and take the cup in your hands. You smile weakly as you see that he got you the right drink.

"You-you got the right drink."

He smiles.

"With oat milk, of course."

"Thanks, Harry." You take a sip and the warm coffee has you humming softly. He smiles.

"Okay." You say placing the cup down. "Explain. I'm listening."

He sighs.

"What happened last night, my behaviour, my demeanour, all of that was inexcusable. I'm not used to having a long-term girlfriend, I've always been the type of guy to casually date women and the second commitment is put on the table, I run for the fuckin' hills because I'm scared. I'm scared of the idea of being tied down and not being happy. I'm scared of falling out of love with that person. Those feelings all changed, when I met you."

He takes your hand and you look down at his hand with a very small smile.

"You made me feel the most loved i've ever felt. In the short amount of time we've been together, you've put all of my needs before yours. You've shown up to everything, made sure I've eaten, made sure I was well rested, taken care of me when I was ill. You've gone above and beyond for me. You love me with your entire soul and I couldn't believe that someone like you existed, but I do now. You're the one in a million woman that comes around and makes lives so much better. You make my life better."

He looks down at your hand, noticing you rubbing your thumb on his hand in comfort.

"Even now..." He says, voice breaking but he clears his throat to continue. "When I don't deserve your comfort, your heart, you wear it on your sleeve and show me the consideration I don't deserve at all. I hurt you, but here you are, hearing me out, comforting me, I don't deserve you."

You watch a tear fall from his eye, you wipe it impulsively and he chuckles, his cheek falling into your hand.

"I'm scared, Y/N."

"Why, Harry?" you ask, taking your hand back.

"Because, I'm about to tell you something that's going to hurt you more."

You pull yourself back.

"Harry..."

"That wasn't the first time I kissed someone while we were together."

Your entire body fell numb. You sat in shock.

"Y/N. Please let me explain that as well."

"No. I-I can't believe you."

He looks at you wide eyed and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"You... I gave my all to you." You say shaking your head. "You don't love me, you love yourself."

"Y/N."

"Liv was right, you're a liar." You stood up and walked to the door, Harry grabbing your hand and you rip your hand away viciously. "Don't. Touch. Me."

You walk out of the cafe and stand outside, waiting for Liv.

"Y/N, please let me talk to you about it-"

You feel your arm swing up and slap him. He grips his cheek and you let hot tears fall down your cheeks.

"I-I can't believe I believed your sincerity for even a second in there. You made me feel like a fucking fool, Harry. I can't believe I ever loved you."

"You still do. I love you, you love me, that's why you came here today to listen to me. Y/N, please don't give up on me. I meant every word."

You look up at him, your handprint on his cheek, tears now flowing down his face as was yours. You sigh.

"Harry. I don't know if I can ever trust you again."

"Let me make it up to you-"

"And how the HELL, do you think you're going to do that? You've now admitted to cheating more than once-" "Only twice. Last night, and right at the beginning."

"Oh thank GOODNESS! Only twice, wow I'm a lucky girl!" You mock as you cry.

"Y/N. Please."

"Harry, I need time. I love you, but you need to decide where your priorities lie when it comes to your feelings. Do you want me? Or are you only thinking about yourself? I'll be waiting."

You turn to face Liv's car, her eyes watching you as she gets out of her car.

"What. the FUCK. did you do, Styles?" She speed walks over to Harry and you grab her arm. "Liv, don't." You show her the crowds slowly forming as Harry slips his sunglasses back on to avoid pictures of his teary eyes.

"You're fuckin lucky, Styles. I'd have your ass crying for days if you weren't in public right now." She grips your arm. "How dare you. You can't play with Y/N's heart like this, Styles. Get yourself together, I'm not letting her go back to you so easily. You need to PROVE to her that you love her and only her. No more games, no more lies. It's time to grow up, Styles."

You let her arm go and you walk up to Harry. "I will wait for you. I won't wait long, but I will wait. Please don't hurt me again, H." You watch tears fall from under his sunglasses. You wipe them with your hand.

"I-I love you, Y/N." He breathlessly says.

"Then show me that, Harry." You turn from him and walk towards Liv's car, feeling defeated and hurt. You don't know what to do anymore.

"You promised." She said pulling away from the coffee shop.

"What?" You sniffle wiping a tear away.

"You promised, Y/N. I don't see his ass limping, do you? You said I could do whatever I wanted."

"I-I believe him, Liv. I'm just hurt right now."

She sighs. "I know, babe. You're too kind and forgiving for this world." She pats your leg as you wipe the remaining tears.

"So, what are you going to do?" She asks turning away from the shop and down the road.

You look out the window, rain starting to fall.

"Wait for the storm to pass."

------

IM SORRY IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!

I honestly had a different idea and wanted it to end all cute BUT i want this to end completely different now. Part 3 will come out next weekend. Love you all hehe<3

I will most definitely let the part end at part 3. No more surprises, promise!

THIS 3 PART SPECIAL WILL CONTINUE!

Tag List! (comment on this part to be added for p3<3)

@macystyles-01 @jjsgirlp4l @tinyhrry @hazeljean2 @sophiabarber2001 @jessitpwk @behindmygreyeyes

[toxinoire]

Because of my most recent post about the Love Square and Supercorp I am obligated to make this now because it's easier than an actual thought of fic.

(Also I am still recovering from writer's block so whomever sent me that Heathers Hanahaki ask I promise you I will finish that as soon as a I can)

~~~~~

Kara: So...you two have been crime fighting partners for almost a year now?

Ladybug: Yep.

Chat Noir: Yeah.

Lena: Wow. You've done so much in a year as superheroes and you're still kids-

Ladybug: I'm sorry????

Chat Noir: Haha what makes you think we're kids???

Lena:

Lena: First of all, you *points to CN* sound like your voice just developed and you *points at LB* are pint sized.

Ladybug:

Ladybug: Are you aware that you taking off your heels will make Supergirl look like a giant in comparison?

Lena:

Alex: OKAY! Do you two know each other's identities?

Ladybug and Chat Noir: No.

Nia: No? To be honest, I'm quite surprised. You guys are basically a dream duo. I kind of assumed you knew.

Lena: Yeah, so did I.

Brainy: There's a 90% chance we all did.

Kara: Well, I understand there are plenty of reasons. But, do you mind if we asked?

Lena: Yeah. Kara and I had our share of secrecy problems and trust issues and...yeah.

Kara: Yeah.

Everyone:

Kelly: Get therapy. Please. Anyway, as far as we know, Monarch is no longer a threat to you guys.

Ladybug: ....I have my reasons....

Chat Noir: Other than it's a rule? I don't know. But yeah, Monarch is no longer a threat. Does that mean we can reveal-

Ladybug: NO

Chat Noir: ...

Kara:

Lena:

Alex:

Kelly:

Brainy:

Nia:

Ladybug: We're not having a reveal, understood?

Chat Noir: O-Okay.

Lena:

Lena: You're traumatized.

Ladybug: I- what?

Lena: I know that face. You're traumatized.

Ladybug:

Ladybug: ...

Ladybug: *sighs* Fine. In another timeline, Chat Noir got akumatized and destroyed the whole world because we had a reveal which had gone wrong so badly. And I had to fight him. I don't wanna fight him.

Chat Noir: Wait- what?

The Superfriends: Oh.

Kara:

Lena:

Supercorp: Oh well shit.

Ladybug: Yeah, so do you understand why a reveal scares me now?

Chat Noir: Yeah, M'Lady, of course I understand.

Brainy: If you kept a secret like that from each other then maybe you shouldn't be partn-

Nia: *covers his mouth* Brainy no.

Ladybug: It was ONE FUCKING SECRET.

Kara: ...Is it?

Ladybug:

Chat Noir: ...Ladybug?

Ladybug: ....

Ladybug, in one breath: Gabriel Agreste was never the hero, he was Monarch this whole time and he reset and rebuilt the universe so we're all basically just clones with the same memories and emotions while the real versions of us died and I kept Gabriel's secret to protect his family. *covers her mouth*

Chat Noir: What?

Alex: Oh-

Kelly: I-

Brainy: That's too much even for me.

Nia: What the flying fuck???

Kara: ...Okay that's...uh...I don't know how to describe it.

Lena: Maybe we should've just left the discussion of their identities at "they don't know".

Chat Noir: My father was Monarch????

Ladybug: Yeah- wait...you're father..?

Nia: Oh this just got worse.

Chat Noir: ...Yeah.

Ladybug: ...I didn't know he was your father...

Chat Noir: Yeah, how would you?

Ladybug: Adrien???

Chat Noir: ...Hi...

Ladybug: Holy kwami what the fuck?

Chat Noir: How do I tell this to my girlfriend..?

Ladybug: Um...your girlfriend just told you.

Chat Noir: ...What-

Alex: I genuinely thought it couldn't get worse but here we are...

Chat Noir: Marinette???

Lena: Oh no...

Kara: Yeah we really should've just dropped it when they said they didn't know.

Kara: How long do you think this'll last?

Nia: Guys?

Lena: Best guess? By how their both just stared at each other with so many emotions radiating off them? Longer than ours.

Nia: Guys.

Kelly: Oh for the love of Rao please go to therapy. All of you.

Nia: Guys!

Everyone:

Nia: ...Ladybug and Chat Noir left.

Everyone:

Everyone: Shit.

Alex: They'll be okay, right?

Kara and Lena: Haha no

Brainy: Yeah let's go find them.

Kara: Do we talk to them separately or together?

Lena: Together then separately.

Kara: Got it.