#It's affecting Richie

[im-not-a-l0ser]

Richie: Okay, I'll talk to you later then. Steph: Hell no, B, I know you're not using Max's accident to get some play with that fool. Richie: All I did was give him my number in case he wanted to talk. It's not an easy thing to go through. Pete: Oh, yeah, lemme guess. Did you write it out for him so he could see your good penmanship? I taught you that move, B. Ruth: Say it ain't so B. Ted: Okay, who the hell is B? Ruth: Anyone but you.

[woodsborostabathon]

the smug ass way richie says he’s never seen stab always kills me like this man just loooooves to lie bc why was he sat there smiling like he really ate that

[altschmerzes]

very excited for the wild dogs are hungry...something about nat and richie has always made me slightly crazy

LITERALLY ME TOO. their dynamic obsesses me and that fic is like. the brainchild of that. (as is, in part, 'where do the lonely hearts go' which is about how the berzatto kids stole hosted christmas. and has a Thread about natalie and richie that im already losing my mind about.)

[stabknives]

I don't thnk Chris is aro i think he's a sociopath.

[leighbaye]

— BEN’S BUNKER

written by mina leigh 𝜗᭪ , losers club 𝔁 f! reader | wc 2300

summary. spending time the your bestest friends in the world, in ben’s surprise hideout for the losers club. a stronger bond flourishing inside!

labels. feminine reader, happy go lucky girl, shy cute girly girl reader, no definite description of reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is closer to richie toizer & eddie kaspbrak.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. hey everyone! i was rewatching it 2019 and me being the self indulgent person i am, i started fantasizing about us (readers) being with the losers! lots of love.

summer days in derry had a special kind of magic, one that was even stronger when you spent them with the losers club. today, ben had promised a surprise, and you couldn’t wait to see what he had in store. the air was thick with excitement as you all made your way through the woods, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

❝ are we there yet? ❞ richie’s voice rang out, filled with mock impatience. you were walking beside him, as usual, and his playful energy was contagious. you couldn’t help but smile.

❝ yeah, ben, how much further? ❞ eddie added, swatting away a mosquito with a grimace. you could tell eddie was getting antsy, but his curiosity kept him moving forward. you gave him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his nerves. richie noticed and nudged you with his elbow, his grin wide.

❝ you know, eds, (y/n) here could probably carry you if you get too tired, ❞ richie teased, earning a light smack on the arm from eddie.

❝ shut up, richie, ❞ eddie muttered, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to hide a smile. you laughed softly, loving the way they always managed to make you feel at ease, even when they were bickering.

finally, ben stopped in front of a large thicket, and your curiosity peaked. he pushed aside some branches, revealing a hidden entrance. ❝ here it is, ❞ your eyes widened as you stepped through the opening. inside was a large, cozy space, bigger than you’d expected. there were shelves full of books, soft blankets, and a huge hammock strung up in one corner, large enough for several people. the place felt like a secret clubhouse, one that was just for you and your friends.

❝ ben, this is amazing! ❞ you exclaimed, your voice filled with awe. you turned to look at him, and he blushed slightly, clearly pleased with your reaction.

❝ yeah, ben, this is awesome, ❞ mike added, already exploring the different corners of the hideout. ❝ you really outdid yourself. ❞

❝ i thought it would be nice to have a place just for us, ❞ ben said, his voice warm with affection. ❝ a place where we can hang out and just be ourselves. ❞

richie immediately made a beeline for the hammock, his eyes lighting up with excitement. ❝ dibs on the hammock! ❞ he shouted, flopping down onto it with a dramatic sigh of contentment. you laughed and followed him over, sitting down on the edge of the hammock.

❝ you’re such an ass, ❞ eddie grumbled, but he couldn’t resist joining you both. he climbed onto the hammock, settling in beside you with a huff. you found yourself sandwiched between richie and eddie, feeling the gentle sway of the hammock as they playfully jostled each other.

❝ careful, you’re gonna tip us over, ❞ you warned, your voice filled with laughter. richie just grinned at you, his arm draping casually around your shoulders.

❝ don’t worry, (y/n), i’ve got you, ❞ he said, his tone teasing but affectionate. you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. on your other side, eddie was muttering under his breath about how richie was being annoying, but you could tell he was just as happy to be there.

as you lay there, the three of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. richie and eddie kept up their usual banter, tossing playful insults back and forth while you relaxed between them. their voices became a soothing background noise, and you found your eyelids growing heavy as the hammock rocked gently beneath you.

❝ hey, richie, do you ever shut up? ❞ eddie grumbled, though there was no real bite to his words. he was more focused on making sure you were comfortable, adjusting a blanket around you with a careful hand.

❝ only when i’m asleep, eds, ❞ richie shot back, his grin widening as he caught your eye. ❝ and even then, i’m sure i’m the most entertaining sleeper around. ❞

❝ if you say so, ❞ eddie muttered, but you could see the fondness in his eyes as he looked at you. ❝ (y/n), how do you put up with him? ❞ with an exaggerated sigh.

you just smiled, feeling the warmth of their friendship surrounding you like a protective shield. ❝ i guess i’m just lucky, ❞ you replied softly, your voice filled with contentment.

eventually, the steady rhythm of their voices and the gentle sway of the hammock lulled you into a peaceful nap. richie’s arm was still draped over your shoulders, and eddie’s presence beside you was a comforting anchor. as you drifted off to sleep, you felt completely safe, knowing that your best friends were right there with you.

when you woke up, the sun had shifted, casting a warm, golden light through the small windows of the hideout. you blinked sleepily, realizing that richie and eddie had fallen asleep too, their heads resting against yours. the hammock was still gently swaying, and for a moment, you just enjoyed the quiet peace of the moment.

after a while, you carefully extricated yourself from the hammock, trying not to wake richie and eddie. they both stirred slightly but didn’t wake up, so you quietly tiptoed away, leaving them to their nap. as you looked around the hideout, you noticed bill, stan, and mike sitting together on a pile of blankets, engrossed in their books.

❝ h-hey, (y/n), want to j-j-join us? ❞ bill asked, glancing up from his book with a welcoming smile. you nodded, making your way over to them. you sat down beside stan, who gave you a small, shy smile as he handed you one of the books from the shelf.

❝ thank you, stan, ❞ you said softly, returning his smile. he nodded, his eyes already back on his book.

you opened the book and quickly became absorbed in the story, losing yourself in the world of words. the four of you read in companionable silence, the only sounds being the rustle of pages turning and the occasional soft murmur as one of you reacted to something in the story.

after a while, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. looking up, you saw beverly smiling down at you. ❝ hey, (y/n), can i steal you for a bit? ❞ she asked, her voice warm.

❝ okay, ❞ you replied, closing your book and setting it aside. you stood up and followed bev over to where ben was working on some project with a hammer and nails.

❝ we could use some extra hands, ❞ bev said, handing you a hammer. ❝ ben’s been teaching me how to build stuff, and i thought you might want to join in. ❞

you smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude for beverly’s thoughtfulness. ❝ i’d love to help, ❞ you said, taking the hammer and kneeling down beside ben.

❝ thanks, (y/n), ❞ ben said, giving you a grateful smile. ❝ we’re just reinforcing some of the shelves and adding a few more. it’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it. ❞

❝ definitely, ❞ you agreed, already feeling a sense of accomplishment as you began hammering nails into place. as you worked, bev chatted with you about all sorts of things—clothes, movies, and boys. it was nice to have some girl time, and you found yourself opening up to her in a way you hadn’t before.

❝ you know, (y/n), ❞ bev said, her voice turning a bit more serious, ❝ i’m really glad you’re part of the losers club. you bring something special to the group, and i just want you to know that you’re really important to all of us. ❞

you felt your cheeks flush with warmth at her words, and you looked down at the hammer in your hands, suddenly feeling a bit shy. ❝ thanks, beverly, you said softly. ❝ that means a lot. ❞

she smiled at you, her eyes filled with kindness. ❝ it’s true. don’t ever doubt it, okay? ❞

you nodded, feeling a swell of affection for your friend. as the two of you continued working, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the bond you shared with the losers club. they were more than just friends—they were family, and you knew that no matter what, you’d always have each other’s backs.

after finishing up with the shelves, you and bev stepped back to admire your work. ❝ not bad, ❞ ben said, clearly pleased with the results. ❝ this place is really coming together. ❞

❝ it really is, ❞ you agreed, feeling a sense of pride in what you’d accomplished. ❝ i’m glad i could help. ❞

❝ you did great, ❞ bev said, giving you a friendly nudge. ❝ now, how about we take a break? i think we’ve earned it. ❞

you nodded, feeling a bit tired but happy. as you made your way back to the main area of the hideout, you noticed that richie and eddie had finally woken up and were now bickering playfully as usual.

❝ hey, sleepyheads, ❞ you called out, giggling as you approached them. ❝ have a nice nap? ❞

❝ the best, ❞ richie replied with a wink, stretching his arms above his head. ❝ but we missed you, (y/n). it’s not the same without our favorite girl around. ❞

❝ yeah, we woke up and you were gone, ❞ eddie added, his voice mock-petulant. ❝ don’t do that again. ❞

you laughed, feeling the warmth of their affection wrap around you like a cozy blanket. ❝ don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere. ❞

the rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter, stories, and moments that you knew you’d treasure forever. by the time the sun began to set, casting a warm golden light over the hideout, you felt completely at peace.

as you all gathered together in the hideout, huddled close on the blankets and bean bags, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. the losers club wasn’t just a group of friends—they were your home, your family, your safe haven in a world that could be so full of darkness.

and as you sat there, surrounded by the people who meant the most to you, you knew that no matter what the future held, you’d always stick by their side as much as they stuck to yours.

© MINA LEIGH 2023 - 2024

[saltnsugarbear]

you've never done me wrong (except for that one time)

summary: a kitchen friendship is born anew as Carmen's hold on the staff stumbles.

title from: "True Blue" by boygenius

word count: 3.8k

content warnings: swearing, reader is close friends with Richie. mentions of divorce, Mikey's death, depression, hazing in the work place.

part one! nsfw headcanons!

Carmy works in silence beside you. Your head is resting on your arms against the counter.

Every night the two of you work on dish presentation and recipes. You're usually the first to feel the effects of exhaustion from the day, laying your head on the counter and watching Carmy work in his notebook.

His colored pencils are scattered and the surface is decorated with pencil shavings. You watch him intently, taking in the curve of his nose, the furrow of his brow, the set of his mouth as he colors with a precision you envy.

The dynamic between you two is one of mutual benefit. Carmy understands how to best present a dish, how it should look on a plate and appeal to the diner. You understand pairings, what ingredients need to be added or removed for a dish to be balanced and shine. And you both work spectacularly in a kitchen, moving together like a dance that only the two of you have learned. Any time one of you is paired with another, it's a mess of bumping into one another and miscommunication.

The only thing you don't agree on is staying awake until a few hours before service prep starts. Carmy has told you several times you don't need to stay awake with him as he works in his notebook, but each time you refusal. Instead choosing to give him grief about being up all night. Your belief is that if you maintain the same sleep schedule, you'll both be on the same frequency for service.

So that leaves you, exhausted in the kitchen fighting the drooping of your eyelids, and Carmy, sketching and coloring a new dish you two had been brainstorming.

"Hey.." The whisper of Carmy's voice startles you. He's collected his pencils and cleaned the counter around you.

"Did I fall asleep?" You search his eyes and Carmy nods.

You sigh and sit up in your seat, rubbing your eyes as Carmy stands up from his own chair. He waits as you slip off from your chair, grabbing your coat and slipping your arm through his.

Carmy has come to expect your gentle affections, the simple touches you offer. A guiding hand at the small of his back, linked arms and holding hands.

You let Carmy lead you to your apartment. You've both taken this walk dozens of times over, you can close your eyes and slump against him as you walk together.

"Stay the night.." You mumbled. Carmy hums beside you, he sounds distant.

This isn't the first time you've asked him to spend the night at your apartment. It certainly won't be the last.

The first time it was under the pretense that it would be quicker for both of you going into the kitchen. Less travel time he has to waste, to and fro.

So when he unlocks your front door, you're unalarmed. Carmy helps you kick your shoes off before he takes off his own. He drops his things beside them, and leads you both to your room. He flips the switch by the door thats attached to the warm Christmas lights you have on your ceiling.

He sits you on your bed, pulling the covers back for you to lay down and lays them over your body. Carmy makes to leave when you call his name. He stops in his tracks as you shuffle farther back and lift the blankets for him.

Carmy was used to setting himself up on your couch. He knew were your extra bedding was and he never complained about the kink in his neck afterwards.

However inviting him into your bed was new. He nervously shuffles towards the edge of the bed and you nod tiredly.

Carmy climbs in beside you, hesitantly. He's still in his jeans and t-shirt. No one will notice his ruffled street clothes tomorrow.

He's awkward as he lays on his side, facing you. You sigh, grumbling something out as you grab at his shirt. You pull at the fabric, bringing him towards you until your face is against his chest.

Carmy is tense until you wrap your arms around him, keeping him close to you. You can feel him relax slowly, and then he wraps his arms around you.

The both of you fall asleep like that. Holding each other under the blankets, lights tacked to the ceiling like stars.

August goes by with as little animosity as you can muster.

Which is not much.

But it's enough that Carmen doesn't feel the need to mention it for a while. The month goes by with as little exchanges between the two of you that can be managed with him being your boss and coworker.

It's awkward at first, and still is. Your cigarette breaks are cut short or prolonged to avoid each other, tasks take longer than they should to avoid running into each other.

You hate the way that you notice how you both still move together so seamlessly. The both of you move around the kitchen together like a dance only you know and it makes you want to throw up.

It reminds you have your time together at Daniel. It reminds you of how things could be different.

You can spot when Carmen notices it because his movements suddenly become awkward and stilted. You run into each other more once he clocks the smooth kitchen dynamic you have. It kind of pisses you off.

You find yourself getting short with him when this happens. Which leads to the butting of heads.

But you spend more time away from each other then around one another. Richie makes snide comments on it until you eventually get him to shut up. No one else notices, at least they don't mention if they do.

Ebra and Tina take to gently harassing Carmen. Making him prove his keep in the kitchen. He throws tantrum after tantrum but they are unrelenting in their antics.

You can see Carmen's fuse running shorter and shorter with them as each day begins anew.

He is going to snap.

Richie is regaling a story about some kid picking on Eva while you're sorting through the plastic utensils and prepping napkins.

He keeps looking at you through out the story and you're nodding along to show your engagement in the story. As he's getting into it, the door to the kitchen swings open.

"Hey, chef?" Sydney pokes her head through the doorway and grabs your attention. "Fill in for Tina? She's going to be late up until service."

You sigh and nod, "Yeah, for sure."

As you follow Syd into the back of house, Richie blows you a kiss that makes you roll your eyes. Sydney has your station set up by the time you're done washing your hands.

"So, Tina was just on vegetable prep. Nothing too crazy, I don't think. I mean, you know the drill, right?" Sydney looks at you and you nod.

"Vegetable prep is nothing, my dear Sydney."

"Okay. Then I don't think there's anything else you need to know. Just let me know when you're done." Sydney taps the counter and you nod before she departs to her own station not far from yours.

The two of you work in the kitchen in mostly silence. Carmen is in the office so Marcus and Ebra are the only other two moving around their respective parts of the kitchen.

"Did you um-" Sydney starts talking, and she hesitates as she lets her thoughts tumble around. "Did you work in a kitchen? Before this?"

"Yeah, actually. I..." You pause and then sigh. "I used to work with Chef Daniel Boulud."

"Oh shit." Sydney glances at you, eyes wide.

You huff a laugh and nod. "Yep."

"How did... How did you end up here?" Sydney asks, turning back to her own prep.

You pause long enough Sydney starts to back pedal, "Actually, you don't have to-"

"No it's okay. Um..." You clear your throat and furrow your brow. "Something happened.. And I had to quit. It was that or be fired."

"Oh shit.." Her voice is hushed but you shrug in response.

"That was four years ago and I'm mostly over it. But it definitely opened my eyes to some shit." You glance at Sydney before looking back at your cutting board.

"But I mean, maybe it was for the best. I met these lovely people," Sydney scoffs a little at that. "I got to know Mikey and I know Richie now. I don't know. I got a new family out of the situation so maybe it's not all bad. It definitely hurt though." You nod as you cut through carrots.

"That's a good way to look at it.." Sydney trails off as the two of you begin to work in silence again.

"I'm sorry that happened, anyways." Sydney does a half shrug and you nod.

"Thank you, chef." You hum.

Sydney hums in response and nods. The two of you continue to work in silence again.

After a few minutes Richie enters the back, fidgety and looking for someone to talk to. He steers clear of you and Sydney, deciding to go to Marcus and Sweeps. He launches himself into conversation, beginning some story you're sure he's already told you.

As he talks and gets more into it, his voice gets loud. Sweeps and Marcus egg him on and you can see Ebra hovering. Eventually Richie is shouting to be heard and laughing loudly.

"Richard," You grab his attention with his full name, not looking away from your station, and loud enough to be heard over his own chatter. You raise your hand to lay level above your head and start moving it downwards.

"Oh shit. Sorry, sweetheart." Richie's voice is quieter now.

"It's okay, bub. Thank you." You bring your hand back to your task and Richie continues his story, keeping his voice as leveled as he can.

"Holy shit." Sydney breathes out next to you and you shoot her a questioning look.

"He doesn't listen to, like, anyone." She looks at you and searches your face like it'll show her the answers.

You chuckle and nod at that. "He only listens because I put up with his other shit. And his daughter likes me, so it's hard to explain to a five year old why her cousin that she's seen for years stops showing up."

Sydney keeps looking at you in awe which makes you shake your head. "Back to work, chef."

You gesture to her cutting board and she tears her gaze away with a nod.

"Um... Why would you stop showing up, chef?" Sydney asks with her brow furrowed.

"I wouldn't. He just... Has these weird attachment issues. He gets anxious over it so he... Behaves himself to not scare me off. He has his bad days but we're only human." You shrug. Sydney hums and the two of you go back to working in silence.

Once you finish, Sydney guides you through mixing and storing it in accord with the restaurant system. As you're cleaning up your stations, Carmen comes into the kitchen like a force of wind. He stops a few steps from the office when he spots you at the counter.

You watch in your periphery as Carmen looks between you and Sydney. Sydney nods at him and he shakes his head back at her.

"Uh.. Chef." You turn as Carmen nods at you.

"Chef." You look at him as you finish wiping down the counter. You both stand there for a few seconds until Sydney clears her throat.

"Thank you, chef... For helping with Tina's prep." She nods and gives you a smile.

"Yeah, it's no problem, Syd." You nod back as you depart from the two of them. You make your way to coral Richie and Sweeps to the front of house, ignoring Carmen's gaze on your back as you leave.

Richie slings his arm over your shoulder with Sweeps behind you, as Carmen rounds up his cooks and begins debriefing them for service.

After the health inspector leaves, hell breaks loose. Everyone else dispersed to their respective stations, except for you, Sydney, Carmen and Richie.

Richie and Carmen start yelling and jabbing fingers at each other again. Once they start shoving each other, Sydney attempts to break it up again. When that doesn't work, you shove your way between the two of them, less worried than Sydney about who gets knocked by an elbow.

Richie immediately stops his movements and favors yelling at Carmen from behind you. Carmen bites his tongue, glaring at Richie above your head and clenching his fists at his sides.

"Shut up, Richard!" You turn and look at him over your shoulder. You notice Carmen inhale to begin his verbal assault again and stop him in his tracks. "That doesn't mean you start again, Carmen. You need to go take a fucking breather."

Carmen stares at you and there's a fire in his eyes. "We got a fuckin' C. You can't be fuckin' okay with that? It's, it's-"

"I don't give a fuck what it is right now. You need to step out, and maybe when you're feeling like having a real conversation, we can deal with this. Instead of taking that shit out on Richie."

That was the wrong thing to say. It only adds fuel to the fire that is Carmen's anger.

"Maybe, if you fucking cleaned- If, if you actually helped around this place instead of- of fucking flirting with Richie!" Carmen gestures wildly, his voice raising with each word.

"Don't you fucking yell at me." You stab a finger into Carmen's chest, getting up in his face and much louder than him. The kitchen has all but ceased movement and clatter.

"Don't yell at me, you fucking child. You know that shit doesn't work." Carmen is silent as you study his face before backing off.

"Get your fucking shit together, Carmen. Instead of taking it out on your chefs." You untie your apron as you head towards the back door.

"Where the fuck do you think you're goin'?" Carmen calls after you. In response you flip him off as you barge out the door.

Once you're outside, you fish out your lighter and pack of cigarettes, shaking out a stick before tossing the pack and your apron onto one of the crates on the floor. When you light the stick you take a deep inhale and hold before letting it out.

The door opens and you're prepared to launch yourself at Carmen.

Instead you see Sydney. She’s got a container of water in her hand her eyes cast towards the ground. You hum at her in acknowledgment as you take another drag. After your appraisal Sydney walked over and sat on the opposite crate from where you had thrown your stuff.

"I have never seen someone tell Carmy off like that." Her voice is soft and a little surprised. You let out a huff of a laugh as you release the smoke from your lungs.

"He's just an asshole." You say as you dip down and offer Sydney your pack. She scrunches up her nose and shakes her head, which makes you grin.

"Smart move. This shit kills." You punctuate your sentence with another drag that makes Sydney chuckle.

"Did you know Carmy? Before the Beef?" Sydney toes at the asphalt before she looks up at you with big brown eyes.

You turn away and shrug, "Depends on what you mean by know. I've worked with him in the past. I thought I knew him as well as I knew myself but he ended up being a back stabbing bitch."

You flick your cigarette to the ground and stub it out with your shoe.

"Don't get too attached to the idea of you guys being super great work buddies. He'll throw you to the curb if it means saving his own ass." With that you grabbed your apron, opened the door and give Sydney a two finger salute before walking back in.

Inside Richie and Carmen are arguing about the caulk. Still. You sigh and begin tying your apron behind you. It's going to be a long fucking service.

The door from the kitchen swings shut as you walk through, making your way behind the counter until you hear people talking in the dining area.

"Oh shit. Hi, Mr. Cicero." You spot Cicero talking with Carmen by the window.

He and Carmen turn towards you, expressions a stark difference between each other. Cicero smiles at you as you make your way over to them, but Carmen looks shocked at your intrusion.

"How many times do I have to tell you, kid, it's Uncle Jimmy." Cicero pulls you into a side hug as you shake your head.

"Yeah, and Richard's actually my cousin." You sigh as he let's go of you. "If you're lucky, maybe you'll reach Mr. Jimmy instead."

"It'll have to do." He sighs and then gestures towards the sign in the window. "What's that about, kid?"

You follow his gaze to the C in the window and shake your head.

"Just business as usual, Mr. Cicero. I mean, you know," You shrug as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "It's been a rough going but um... I think we're getting somewhere."

Your gaze flicks to Carmen briefly before turning back to Cicero. Cicero nods when you look back at him.

"Alright, kid. Now uh... You know I love seeing you, but I mean, you know," Cicero gestures between him and Carmen. You get the hint.

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize, you actually saved me from more of the same story." Cicero assures you as you fidget with your apron.

"Of course," You smile and nod at him. "Make sure you come by again soon."

Cicero nods and brings you into another side hug. You return the hug as you bid him farewell, effectively removing yourself from the conversation and heading back to the kitchen.

At the same time you enter, Sydney and Richie enter through the back door. They're both silent as they walk in. Sydney stops by her locker, opening it and shedding her bag and coat. She fishes out the bag from the hardware store and her apron before she closes the door and hands the bag to Richie.

Richie snatches the bag from her and Sydney leaves to go find Carmen before service.

Wordlessly, you take out your pack of cigarettes, holding it out to Richie in offering. He shakes his head at you in response, so you lightly bump him with your shoulder on your way out the back door.

You plop down on one of the crates along the wall, fishing out your lighter and shake out a stick. Once you have it lit, you lay your head back against the wall when you inhale.

You're out there for a few minutes until the back door opens. You don't move, scrolling through your phone and not entirely bothered by whoever might be joining you on their own smoke break. There's the crunch of footsteps until the stop short. They don't start again but the door hasn't opened again. You look up and a nearly drop your cigarette when you see Carmen.

He's stood a few feet from you, his own cigarette hanging off his lips as he takes you in.

Deciding you were there first and desperately needing this cigarette (and maybe a second), you turn back to your phone. Effectively ignoring him. You hear the click of his lighter and the drag he takes through the filter, but he doesn't move.

You continue to ignore him when you flick away the bud of your cigarette, taking a moment to finish your article before you fish out another one. Carmen takes that as his signal to speak up.

"So, you uh- you just know everyone from my family?" He asks you, making you look up at him. Carmen is watching you already as he exhales, his blue eyes studying your face.

"I didn't track them down, if that's what you're thinking. I didn't decide to move to Chicago and find the Berzatto family as some long awaited revenge." You look down to grab your pack, so you don't have to see his eyes anymore, and take out another stick. You place it to your lips but before you can get your lighter, you hear the click of Carmen's. When you look back at him, he's holding his lighter out for you.

When you don't brush him off, Carmen slowly moves and watches as the flame sparks the end of your cigarette. Once it's done, he pulls his arm away quickly, as if you'll bite it off.

"I didn't think you had." Carmen shrugs.

"Yeah well, I thought I knew everything you thought." You let that hang in the air for a moment. Until Carmen clears his throat.

"How did you meet um..." Carmen doesn't finish. You know who he means.

"My brother. Graduated with Mikey, knew he was looking for people. Set me up." You gesture with the cigarette in your hand. "And you're not actually related to Cicero or Richie so.."

"Close enough," Carmen huffs and kicks at the pebbles on the asphalt.

"Nat's pissed at you, by the way. Not as much as I always am, but pretty close." You nod and then take a drag, looking down the alley towards the street. You want this conversation to end soon.

Carmen sighs at that and you catch him nodding, like he already knows.

"And quit being such a dick to Richie. He's obnoxious but he's dealing with enough shit without you piling onto it." You voice your disdain for his bullying with your exhale of smoke.

Since February, Richie's personal life had taken a nosedive into the garbage. In the weeks after Mikey's death Tiffany served Richie with the divorce paperwork. This took another massive toll on Richie's mental health when you were already trying to hold it together. You think that the presence of yourself and Eva barely kept the man with his head above water. You spent weeks creating a routine of assurance and dependability with Richie that he still questioned, even now.

"I'm uh... I'm s-" Carmen starts, looking at the ground. Again.

"Don't fucking do this." You glare up at him. Carmen looks at you with wide eyes. "Just shut up. I'm not doing this again."

You turn away from him, brows furrowed and lips set in a frown. You don't see him leave but you hear his footsteps on the asphalt and the creak of the back door. Then it's quiet again.

You sigh, and rest your head against the wall again. Finishing your cigarette in the Chicago peace.

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited) carmen berzatto comes home after a long day at the beef.

your eyes momentarily shift towards the front door at the sound of keys and you slowly sit up from your curled position on the couch, dog-earing the page to your book and setting it on the table next to the armrest. checking the time on your phone, you let out a soft groan as you realize it was late - much later than the usual time he arrives home.

the door finally creaks open and you smile softly as your boyfriend walks through the threshold, closing the door behind him gently and locking it. he was tense, more so than usual when it came to dealing with ‘the beef’ and its employees, and your smile dropped gradually into a small frown.

“carmy?”

you're greeted with silence from him and the sound of his bag hitting the floor with a resounding thud at the entrance. you can see the exhaustion in his eyes as he pads over toward you after shedding his boots, leaving behind the remnants of the outside world, he surrenders himself to vulnerability and sinks to his knees before you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nestling his face into your tummy. you can't help but smile softly, and run your fingers through the beautiful tangle of curls atop his head.

“hi,” you murmur softly, your thumb delicately tracing over his forehead to ease away some of the wrinkles that seem to always etch themselves there. carmen’s like jell-o in your lap, slumped and boneless. his body relaxes, the tension melting away, and you can feel the weight of his exhaustion dissipating. it's a rare sight to witness him so vulnerable, so unguarded, “hey,” is what he whispers back to you, it’s weary, strained, and lost. it makes your heart hurt like nothing you've ever experienced.

“tough day?”

carmen groans quietly into your stomach before flipping his head to the side, sighing weakly when your fingers move the brown curls from his eyes. it takes a moment but he’s finally able to sort through his mess of jumbled thoughts to communicate to you, “i don't know what i’m doing wrong, i don't understand.”

you hum and brush your thumb over his cheek, exhaling deeply. “with the team?” you inquire, a grunt of agreement, you hum softly once more. “sometimes, carmy, change and even big changes at that can be scary to some people." you detangle one of his curled strands. "the loss of michael has also affected them, and the thought of losing the things he’s implemented for so long can be hard.”

he’s silent, azure eyes flickering here and there as he processes, his brows knitting together and his tongue peeking out to moisten his lips. “i’m not saying they're right in the way they're treating you, i’m just saying you should wait a little, give them time. things will fall into place." you lean in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. "remember, carmy, you're a leader. your guidance and support can make all the difference. encourage them, believe in them, and help them realize their own potential."

carmy lifts from his position on your lap and without hesitation, you lean in and plant a gentle kiss on his lips, hoping he can feel the love that you have for him without having to say it. when you pull away, he places his forehead against yours.“what would i do without you?” he utters; you grin and hum in a playful manner, “crash and burn, maybe?” he chuckles, his warm breath caressing your skin as he affectionately nods against your head. "you know, you're probably right," he admits, his tired eyes reflecting the amusement in yours.

you pat his cheek and pull away. “now, go shower. you smell like richie’s horrible cologne and sweat.” he dismissively rolls his eyes, but lovingly plants a tender kiss on your temple before getting up from the floor.

“yeah, yeah.”

[jakesduskwood]

even statues crumble if they're made to wait

Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC

Genre: Post-Episode 10 Duskwood, Post-Episode 1 Moonvale

Words: 8,916

Summary: It's been three months since the explosion in the mine. Three months since Hannah was found. And MC's accepted that Jake is never coming back. When she gets roped into another missing person's case, it makes for the perfect distraction. Jake is dead. It's fine. That is, until she finds herself on the phone with Alan Bloomgate who says he has something to show her. But it's fine. Jake is dead.

Until he's not.

EPISODE-1 MOONVALE SPOILERS AHEAD (MAYBE)!

[ A/N: Hello! :)

I know it's been a while since I've done this, but I finished Moonvale Episode 1 and if you've seen the ending (and used its Duskwood code), you know what happened and how excited I was to receive that bit of Duskwood. So, I took it and ran with it, and out came this extremely long fic. I did not proofread this as it took me literally almost 12 hours to write so it is completely and 100% me and my love for Jake and I hope you love it.

Side note: I suck with anything related to timelines, so I made one up on my own. I know Episode 1 of Moonvale takes place over the course of a day or two, but for the purpose of this fic, it made sense to make it longer, so it's not a typo, or me losing my mind, it's just the way my brain processed this.

Enjoy! :) ]

It’s been three months since the explosion in the mine.

Three months since Richy had been killed. Three months since Hannah was rescued. Three months since I had last spoken to Thomas or Cleo or Lilly or…or Jessy. I didn’t blame her then and I don’t blame her now. Any of them, really. I didn’t share the bond they had with each other. I wasn’t from Duskwood. It didn’t matter that we’d experienced a tragedy together—and yes, perhaps them more than me, but I loved Richy too. I had lost Richy too. And Jake—

But mostly, I think they just wanted to forget. To move on. They didn’t want to remember that their friend had been capable of…of that. And I was a constant reminder of that to them. So I understood why we didn’t necessarily talk anymore.

The one person I did keep in contact with from Duskwood, oddly enough, other than the occasional update from Alan Bloomgate, was Dan. We weren’t best friends or anything, but he allowed me to check in on our friends in a way that I didn’t know how to do with anyone else. Maybe because I thought he was the least affected among them. I knew he cared about Hannah, but he wasn’t to her what Thomas or Cleo or Lilly were. And he wasn’t to Richy what Jessy had been.

I’d learned from him that Thomas and Hannah had broken up. There was no bad blood, but Thomas hadn’t quite figured out how to accept the things he’d learned about his girlfriend when she’d been gone, and Hannah hadn’t quite figured out how to re-trust someone after Richy. Even if that person was Thomas. But I’d hoped they would find their way back to each other in the end.

I thought about reaching out to Jessy every once in a while—even just as an apology for everything that had happened. I’m sorry that Hannah was found at the expense of Richy. I’m sorry that he did this to you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. We should have. We should have. We should have. I miss you. But I never send it. I’m not all that sure she’d respond anyway.

Cleo and I were never all that close. She has her best friend back, so I think she’s probably as okay as she can be. Helping Hannah find a new kind of normal in a time where her childhood friend had kidnapped her in order to prove a point. I don’t know how you come back from that—I don’t know how you come back from knowing that you killed somebody at all.

I hadn’t found the courage to ask if somebody had told Hannah about Jake.

Not that I think it would matter anyway. I hadn’t heard from him since before the explosion in the mine, which was, like I said—three months ago. I waited the appropriate amount of time—twenty-five days—before I broke down and concluded that maybe he hadn’t survived. Which just piled a shit-ton of guilt onto my shoulders because it was supposed to be me in that mine. He had gone in place of me and now he was dead.

It was the only explanation that made sense. I was used to Jake disappearing for days at a time, but never as long as he had been now. And he didn’t seem like the type to tell me he loved me and then leave without a single explanation. Not unless he had to. But it had been three months and as much as I missed him, as much as my chest ached with the thought that we would never eat Chinese food out of shitty motels and have that on-the-run ending we talked about, I had accepted that he wasn’t coming back.

I wonder if he had known about Richy or if he had died still thinking Michael Hanson was the one who had kidnapped Hannah. I wonder if his last thoughts were of me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I kind of hope they were, because I’m pretty sure I’ll think about him for the rest of my life.

I wonder what it would have felt like to run my hands through his hair. To kiss him. To spend every waking moment with him and know it was because I loved him. Because I would have. Talking to Jake became about more than just finding Hannah. It became a part of my day I looked forward to more than anything else. He confided in me in a way that told me he never had with anyone, maybe not even Hannah, and I needed that from somebody. I needed somebody to trust in me the way that Jake did. I needed somebody to love me the way that Jake did.

It was strange—and maybe a little ironic—the thought that something so beautiful could come out of something so tragic.

Anyway, my point is: it’s been a long couple of months. Of thinking about my friends. Of thinking about Jake. Of wondering if I should have done things differently. I should have gone to Duskwood to help. Not even with the mine, but sooner. I could have. I could’ve gone when Jessy was attacked on the way home. I could’ve gone when the group made plans to cut out of town and hide away in the house Richy had found. Selfishly, I should have. In that moment, when they were settled around the fire and Lilly called me, I had never remembered wanting anything more. I should have grabbed Jake—metaphorically, maybe even literally—and rode it out with them to the end.

I don’t stop missing them after three months. Of wishing things could have been different. Wishing I could have done more. But exactly ninety-five days after the explosion in the mine, seventy days since I had accepted that Jake was never coming back, twenty-two days since I had last heard from anybody from Duskwood (Dan included), my phone dings with a new message.

And the cycle starts all over again.

It’s somebody named Eric, who claims he needs my help to find his friend Adam, who disappeared while he was waiting for a ride in someplace called Redlog Pines. And much like with Duskwood, I have never heard of Redlog, and the case reminds me way too much of Thomas’ first message to me, so much that it makes my chest ache, but I can’t say no because there’s somebody missing, and if I’d say no the first time, God knows where Hannah would be.

So, I say yes, and I help out where I can, and Eric decides he needs to bring about four more friends in on his little plan and I try my best to stay emotionally unattached because I remember everything that happened the last time and I can’t go through that again. I offer up information when I can and keep my words short and careful because I’m not ready to get attached to somebody else I know I might never meet.

I know how this ends.

Two days in, Ash, one of Eric’s friends, brings up my Duskwood past and the unhealed wound I’ve been trying to mend breaks open again. She asks about Richy, and about the mine, and then because I’m me and I can’t help myself, I tell her about Jake. She tells me the news never mentioned another body and I shove that thought to the back of my head because hoping for something that will never come true will kill me.

Four days into Adam’s disappearance, and the police not giving a shit—as Charlie, somebody who reminds me far too much of Richy for comfort, points out—my phone beeps with an incoming call from somebody I haven’t spoken to in a while.

“Go for [MC].” I answer my phone.

Ever since Hannah had been found in the mine and Jake had…you know, my phone had been more silent than I’d gotten used to. Until this new case. But even that—it was only a few days old and I didn’t want to go down the same path with them that I did with my friends in Duskwood. We didn’t really know each other that long, sure—even though sometimes it’d felt like it—but it felt like I’d finally been a part of something. Like, I had found these people who had chosen me for me.

And originally, maybe they had. Maybe they’d had every intention of keeping me around, but then Richy was the Man Without A Face and Alan Bloomgate had rescued Hannah and nothing was the same as it had been when we’d met each other. We knew too many secrets about each other by the time the town settled. Secrets we would have to take to the grave.

Or maybe I’m losing my mind a bit and I had really only been a means to an end.

Either way.

“Alan?” I raise my voice when there’s nothing but breathing on the other end of the line. “Did you mean to call me?”

His tone is clipped. “I found something.”

“You found something.” I repeat.

My heart clenches. For all I know, it might fall into my stomach. As far I know, from watching the news, from what Ash told me, Jake’s body was never found. Richy’s was. Or what was left of him to find, anyway. I had assumed that there just hadn’t been enough of Jake left. The thought left me nauseous, but it was better than hoping for something I knew I could never have.

“I’m sending it to your phone now.” He responds. “Let me know what you think of this.”

And then he hangs up.

That was a riveting conversation, I think as my phone dings with a message. I do my best to ignore my other messages—contacts from Duskwood I’m still not ready to acknowledge—and click Alan Bloomgate. He sent me a video that looks like—oh God.

Immediately, I’m overcome with emotion as an all-too-familiar forest pops up on my phone. It’s a video of Alan’s bodycam footage. He’s searching the Duskwood forest. A forest I’ve seen too many times in the background of other video calls.

I watch as he stumbles upon an object that’s too dark to make out at first. When he gets closer, it’s clear that it’s a backpack. It’s simple. Black. Nothing about it that screams this is mine and I left it here about anybody in particular. You stupid, stupid idiot, I tell my heart when it rattles against my chest in hope. He’s dead.

Alan stands and treks away from the backpack—I want to scream at him to go back, to open it and look through it and tell me if it’s what my heart aches to believe, but I can’t, because this is a video and I’m simply watching with wide eyes, waiting for…for something. But then. But then, he moves further into the forest and I watch as he stumbles upon an object that makes my knees tremble and tears rush to my eyes and my hands shake. A black hoodie. It looks like it’s been through hell, with holes scattered up the sleeves and dirt cakes into the hood, but it’s unmistakably his.

And then—Alan lifts the hood and picks up something that makes me sink to my knees with a sob that wracks my entire frame. Because I’m staring at Jake’s mask. The mask he doesn’t go anywhere without. The mask that protects him. And so my relief is short-lived, because I realize that even if he’s alive—which seems like a very big possibility at this point—he’s alive without the things that he needs to survive.

And then the anger kicks in. Because if he’s been alive, on his own, for three months—why has he not contacted me? Unless he survived the mine but he didn’t survive the after. But that didn’t make any sense. So, okay, he wasn’t dead. But that didn’t make any sense either. He told me he wouldn’t let them catch him. Because catching that meant he would be apart from me. Did something happen that prevented him from being able to reach out and tell me he was at least okay? A quick text that said didn’t die in the explosion in the mine, you don’t need to mourn me, by the way, going off radar for another year. Did he think I would have given up on him?

I wipe my eyes and shoot a message to Alan.

ME: Recently?? Did nobody search the forests before?      

ALAN: Searched the forests for what, [MC]? The logical assumption seemed to be that if anybody was inside the mine when Richy set the fire, they would have perished alongside him. Officers were stationed outside every known entrance and exit. Besides, after the story you and your friends spun around this town, do you think anybody would have gone back into its forests?

ME: But it’s possible?

ALAN: I would say these items had been there for some time. But I would say it is likely he ditched them when he fled the mine, yes.

Another sob tears through my throat. Jake is alive. I don’t know quite what that means for us as of now, but I know it’s the best news I’ve heard since Hannah was found. Jake is alive. He’s out there somewhere. And even if it’s been three months, and even if I’m a little bit mad at him right now, I know that if he was here, I would throw my arms around his neck and hold on to him until someone dragged me off, and even then—I would fight kicking and screaming.

I close out of my messages with Alan and pull up a conversation I haven’t had the heart to look at in quite some time.

ME: Jake’s alive.

LILLY: …

LILLY: Have you spoken to him?

ME: Alan called. He found some of Jake’s things in Duskwood. I don’t know a lot of details. But I know he made it out of the mine.

Lilly types for a long while, but she doesn’t respond. I don’t take it personally. I think it’s probably hard for her to be happy that her brother’s okay while also trying to accept that her sister may never be okay again. Her sister, who had once-upon-a-time been kind-of-sort-of in love with their brother she didn’t know she had. I think that would probably mess with any family’s heads. And on top of all that, you throw in manslaughter and a kidnapping. I wouldn’t wish anybody, not even my worst enemy, to have had to go through what the Donforts had.

When it becomes adamant that Lilly isn’t going to respond, I start scrolling through messages with the rest of the group in Duskwood. I click on Jessy. I’m here if you need me. That had been the last thing I sent to her, a couple of days after Richy’s death. She hadn’t responded. I click out of Jessy’s contact and click on Thomas’ instead. Thank you for everything. That had been his last message to me after we found Hannah. I’d liked it. I hadn’t expected at the time it would be the last thing we’d ever say to each other. I click out of Thomas’ and click on Richy. So, you want to turn yourself in? I’d asked. That was before he called me. Before he lit a match and burned himself and the mine to the ground. Some people would call that heroic. I mostly call him a coward.

I click on Jake’s name. It’s been a while since I read messages between the two of us. Maybe before I had accepted—thought—he was dead. In that twenty-five-day period when I’d hoped with all I’d had that he would come back. I love you. That was the last message he sent me. I’d responded with I love you too, Jake. Then, four days later: Are you okay? A week later: Jake, please, you’re starting to scare me. I know you said you would contact when you could, but it’s been a week. After twenty-five days, when I had finally accepted our fate, I’d sent one final message: I hope you know that I love you, and I will always care about you, but I think it’s time for me to move on. I’m so sorry that I sent you into the mine. It should have been me. And I will probably feel the guilt from that for the rest of my life. Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself, wherever you are.

After that, I had closed out of our messages and hadn’t looked back. Partly because I couldn’t bear the pain of it. It felt like I had given up on him. I hadn’t—if I had thought for a second that he was alive, if I knew then what I know now, I would have never sent that message. But holding out hope for somebody who I thought was a ghost at the time? That was slowly killing me.

It’s only then that I notice the screen flickering. Much like the way it used to whenever Jake would hack into my phone. I don’t think he’s much in the mood to be hacking right now, but somehow, I know it’s him. When had he done this? Recently? If I had opened our messages, would I have seen this ten—twenty—even fifty days ago? It hadn’t looked like this the last time I texted him. Did he see my last message about needing to move on? Was that why he hadn’t reached out to tell me that he was okay? Because he thought I was moving on happily without him?

No, my brain supplies. He wouldn’t. He would reach out anyway, because he knows how much the thought of him not being okay would have destroyed you.

The screen flickers once more and then a message pops up, bright and blue-tinted and clear as day on my phone.

[MC]

I WILL FIND YOU

And the world around me shifts.

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

Maybe it sounds crazy, considering I’ve never seen his face before, but I always thought that if I’d ran into Jake one day, maybe on the street or at one of those motels he stayed at or maybe even in Duskwood, surrounded by all our friends, I would know it was him. I would, because it’s him, and it’s me, and we’re the only two people who understand each other quite the way we do.

I still believe that.

I believe it when I book my flight to Duskwood (or rather, twenty miles outside of town, which is the closest airport). I believe it when I board the airplane and find a seat next to a mother with her screaming child and when I shoot off a quick text to Eric to let him know I’ll be MIA for the next few hours, but to message me if he needs anything—and I think about how much easier this case would probably be to solve if we had Jake.

Maybe it would have been harder to find Hannah without me, but I know damn well they would’ve never found her without Jake.

Dan picks me up from the airport. I haven’t told the others yet. Something about it felt off—like I shouldn’t message them and say hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m booking a flight to look into why my maybe-slash-not-really boyfriend left his belongings in a forest we really wish we could forget about, and by the way, can I crash at your place?

It’s quiet on the car ride back into town. I’m looking through my messages from Eric and the group from Redlog Pines and thinking about how I’m Duskwood with this group and I want so badly to laugh because it’s ironic, but Dan wouldn’t understand. He might just call me crazy. Better yet, he would ask how I manage to get myself into these situations, and really, I don’t have an answer for him.

“How have you been?” I ask, just to break the tension, as Charlie, in my messages, tries to persuade his friends to head back into that creepy cave in the middle of the forest. He’s going to get someone killed, I think.

Dan looks over at me. “Are you still with Hackerman?”

My chest squeezes. “His name is Jake, Dan. And we were never really together.”

“Hm.” He nods like he doesn’t quite believe me. “You already know mostly everything that’s been happening here. Thomas and Hannah called it quits. They say it was some mutual decision, but it’s hard to find them in the same room together. Jessy hasn’t been out with us since. I think we remind her too much of Richy. The group’s all changed.”

“And you?” I ask.

He gives me a cheshire-like grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m always the same.”

We make it to Duskwood just as the sun’s going down. Much too late for me to try and trek through the forest and retrace the steps Jake might have taken that night. Not that I think it would help give me any clues as to where he might have gone, but mostly because I wonder if it will make me feel closer to him. We’ve never been in the same place before, and even if he’s not there now—he once was.

“Can you drop me at the police station?”

Dan blinks. “The police station.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“We answered their questions for weeks, [MC]. I don’t think anything you have to tell them at this point is going to help. The investigation’s closed. Everybody knows Richy did it. He died with the fire in the mine. Everybody’s trying to move on from that.” He works his jaw. “Did you come here to open old wounds after all this time?”

I try not to show the hurt look on my face. “This isn’t about Richy. Look, Alan called me. He asked if I could look at some things. I figured it was better for me to do it in person. That’s it. Nothing to do with Richy. Nothing to do with Jessy. Nothing to do with you.”

He sighs, and I’m not entirely sure he’s going to abide by my wishes until we pull in front of a tiny building—tinier than most—that says Duskwood Police on the sign. Duskwood must not have that much crime. Well, not until this, I suppose.

“Thank you.” I tell him as I reach over to undo my seatbelt and climb out of the car. “This is a nice ride, by the way.”

He raises a hand in some mock-salute. “Need me to pick you up?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Think I’ll explore the town for a little bit.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and then he’s off.

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath before opening the door to the police station. It wasn’t like Alan asked me to come down here. He hadn’t. Even during the investigation into Richy’s death and Hannah’s kidnapping, when he questioned us, he never asked me to come to Duskwood. We’d done way too many video calls and phone calls and at one point, I had asked if he thought it would be easier for me to come to Duskwood, to which he responded back, are you ready for that?

No, I hadn’t been. I’m not even so sure I was now. But knowing that Jake was alive, that here was the last place was, I had to try.

“Can I help you?” The woman at the front desk asks.

I clear my throat. “I was wondering if I could speak to Alan Bloomgate. I’m one of—I was involved in the Hannah Donfort case. My name is [MC].”

Her eyes widen. “Give me a moment.” She stands and heads to some back office—which looks to me more like a closet—and then returns with a clipped smile. “He’ll be right out.”

Apparently, she isn’t lying, because not two minutes later, Alan is stepping out from the same door and staring me down. I hold his gaze and hope it says that I’m not here to argue. I will tell him my truth, but only my truth, not Hannah’s, not Jake’s, not anybody else’s.

“I was wondering when I would see you.” He says.

I shrug one shoulder. “Isn’t a few months later better than never?”

“Let’s go into my office.” He says, and leads me around the desk and back into the closet space he had come out of. He sits behind the desk and motions for me to take a seat opposite him. “I’m just going to guess you’re not here to talk about Miss Donfort.”

“I want to see them.” I tell him. “His things. I want to see them for myself. And whatever you want from me in return, I’ll give to you.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, [MC].”

“He isn’t a game to me.” I snap back and then sit back and try to relax. “I appreciate that you called me. It’s—I helped you find Hannah. I would do it again. Even with knowing the things that we do now, I would do it all again. That’s how much that group means to me. That’s how much he means to me. I’m not asking you to break any rules or to lie for him or to—to let him hide in your basement for the next five years. I’m just asking you to show me what you found.”

He stares me down for a moment. Then, he sighs, says “wait here for a minute” and disappears to another room. When he comes back, it’s with an evidence bag in his hand filled with the objects I saw on his bodycam footage. My breath hitches in my throat.

“I can’t let you touch them.” He says as he lays them in front of me.

I stare into the eyes of the mask. “Did you tell anybody that he’s alive?”

“I don’t know that he’s alive,” is all the answer he gives, which is an answer to my question. I slide my gaze down to the black hoodie, to the dirtied sleeves and muddy hood, and think about the fact that Jake wore this. I’m so close to him.

And yet I’ve never been further away from him.

“Thank you.” I tell him. “For—for this. And for listening to me about Hannah. If you hadn’t, I—I don’t know what would have happened. How much longer he would have gone on for. If he would have ever stopped.”

Alan’s silent for a minute. Then, he clears his throat. “You know, it was strange to me. Both Hannah and yourself swore to me that neither of you knew the other.”

“I don’t.” I swear.

It was one of the (albeit many) things that didn’t make sense to me. How Hannah got a hold of my number. How she sent it to Thomas. She’d told Alan she hadn’t really remembered texting him my number at all.

“I believe you.” He reassures. “I just think it’s strange. One mistake, if you can call it that, and you throw yourself into a missing persons case to help a stranger.”

“They’re not strangers.” Even though Hannah is kind of still a stranger.

“But they were.” Alan reasons. “You had no reason to say yes to helping Thomas. I doubt anybody would have held it against you if you turned the other way. But you decided to follow this until the end. To make sure they found Hannah. And you care about them. Maybe that’s why I find that I’m more lenient with you than maybe I should be. Why you’re sitting across from me right now calling the shots. Why I’m not asking you about the hacker.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if you did.” I look him in the eye so he knows I’m telling the truth.

He returns my gaze. “Maybe that’s the other reason.”

“Hm.” I acknowledge before I turn my gaze away—from him, from the objects that I know belong to Jake and it takes everything in me not to snatch them up and run. “Well. Thank you for allowing me to steal some of your time. For letting me—” I cut myself off before I say something that makes me break down in a fit of tears in front of him. “—just thank you.”

Leaving the station is easier than coming in. I’m still not any closer to knowing where Jake is than I was when I arrived here, but there’s a comfort in knowing he walked these streets. I wonder what he would think if he knew I was here. He hadn’t wanted me to come to Duskwood when everything was happening…but now that it was over, would he be happy that I was here? That I had come to Duskwood to piece together where he might have gone? Would he track my location and come to find me and…or was I grasping at straws?

It felt like I had just gotten him back. Not really, not entirely…but knowing that he was alive, that he was out there somewhere, maybe thinking of me and looking for ways to come back, to live the life we talked about when he asked me if I was sure…that was worth it. The thought that we could maybe someday have that—even if it was a twenty percent chance.

I check my phone again to see a new message from Ash. She’s asking me if I’ve heard from Charlie in the last few hours. Apparently, he’s AWOL, and I want to help, really, but…it doesn’t really feel like that’s where I am at the moment. Not just physically—obviously—but mentally. We got lucky with Hannah. And that was really only because we had Jake. Adam didn’t have a Jake. Or…maybe he did and I just hadn’t met him yet. But I already had a Jake and I didn’t want another one.

Maybe—if I found him, I could convince him to help. That was a big maybe. Not because I thought Jake would say no. He would say yes to anything I asked of him. The maybe was whether or not I could find him. More likely, the maybe was whether or not he would find me.

Three months ago, I would have been able to come to Duskwood and have no shortage of things I wanted to do and people I wanted to see. Now, as I stand outside Duskwood’s police station, I feel nothing but loneliness. Nobody knows I’m here. I could pass Thomas on the street and he wouldn’t even know it. I could run into Jessy at the library and she would walk by me without even a second thought. Why would they? I hadn’t told them I was here.

So, with nothing left to do, I walked. Toward the town center. Toward the library that Jessy showed me on our walk through Duskwood. Toward the Rainbow Café where I knew that Cleo and Hannah had spent a lot of their time. Toward the Black Swan. Toward—

Ah, what the hell.

I had nothing better to do and The Aurora seemed like a great place to drown my sorrows. To think about my next steps. To figure out—now that I was in Duskwood—what I planned to do. The thing about Jake being so secretive (and on the run) was that I couldn’t retrace his steps. I wasn’t able to ask if anyone had seen him. One, because he would make sure nobody had. And two, because three months was a long time to forget somebody’s face if you didn’t know who you were looking for.

I pull open the door to the bar and step inside. Immediately, I’m hit with the stench of whiskey and a handful of chatter. Duskwood’s a small town. And The Aurora definitely proves it. The bartenders move melodically around each other, serving patrons on the other side of the bar. If you walk down further, there’s a handful of tables.

And dead in the center is a table with my friends. Or, some of them. Dan and Cleo and Lilly. Could I still call them my friends? Ex-friends, maybe? Acquaintances? I didn’t know what they were. Or how to address them. It wasn’t like we had gotten into a fight. We didn’t stop talking for any reason other than that we did. We stopped talking.

I make a beeline for the bar to avoid a confrontation and plant myself on one of the stools. One of the bartenders—a girl cute with bleach blonde hair and brown Bambi eyes—asks what I want and I channel my inner Dan to order a whiskey—neat.

Looking over my shoulder, I focus on the table of them. On Lilly, who’s smiling at something Cleo said. On Dan, who’s the only one of them who actually knows I’m here. But even he’s focused on the conversation they’re having. It’s strange—to see Dan a part of something I’m not sure he would have been before. It’s nice.

“[MC]?”

I turn my head away from the table of my friends and focus my attention across the bar on someone I should’ve expected to see. “Phil.”

“I thought I recognized your voice from when we talked.” He smiles. “I wasn’t sure, but I saw you staring longingly at them—” He nods towards Dan and Cleo and Lilly. “—and I knew. What brings you around here? I expected you to show up maybe a few months ago, but by now, I thought you’d moved on without us.”

I was tired of the words move on. Like I’d had a choice. Like the people from this town might open their arms and welcome me back into their lives. So I’d been part of the group who’d saved Hannah Donfort. So had a lot of people. It didn’t make me special and everyone here knew it.

I offer him a smile in return. “I’m looking for somebody.”

“Anybody I know?” He asks.

I shake my head. “Nah. At least nobody you would recognize.” I pause. “How’s Jessy?”

“She’s—Jessy.” He answers, like that is an answer. “I don’t know if she’ll ever really be okay with the way things happened with Richy. I wouldn’t expect her to. Obviously. But I don’t know. I think I just thought she would have gone back to her normal life by now. And then I remember that most of her life revolved around him. He was her best friend. She worked for him. And I’m trying to be patient about that. But—” He shakes his head. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“She doesn’t know I’m in town.”

“Okay.” He hums. “So, you’re not in town for my sister. And you’re not in town for your group of friends because they’re over there and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. There’s always Hannah, but I don’t think you knew her that well. Or at all. Would I be right to assume this is about a certain hacker who helped to find Hannah?”

“He didn’t help find Hannah.” I defend. “He was the entire reason we found Hannah. I would have never been able to do it on my own. Even with the others’ help. He’s the only reason we found out about—” I pause before I say something I maybe shouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the only reason we found her. Everything I did was just dumb luck.”

“That wasn’t what the news said.” A voice cuts in and I turn my attention from Phil to focus on the stranger that slides into the seat beside me. Not too close—a couple inches away. I don’t recognize him. I don’t know him. But I don’t know every person in Duskwood. Maybe a total of like nine or ten. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But I heard you had a lot to do with finding Hannah Donfort. The news said you were some kind of hero.”

I offer him a tight smile. ���That’s nice of them. But…if they knew my—friend—knew what he did to find her, I don’t think I would be as much of a hero as everybody says.”

“That’s noble.” He says, eyes meeting mine, and it strikes me at once how handsome he is. He has dark hair. Bright green eyes. Focus, [MC]. I scold. You have a…a someone.

My phone buzzes.

ERIC SENT A PHOTO.

ERIC: What do you make of this?

I sigh and click on the photo. It’s of—some object. Much like the one that was addressed to me on the envelope in Adam’s glove compartment. The image is a bit different—but I don’t know enough about what it means to have an answer as to why.

ME: Was this one addressed to me?

ERIC: Nope. Ash.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks.

I clear my throat. “I’m a popular person—apparently.” A thought strikes. “Have you ever heard of a place called Redlog Pines?”

Phil frowns. “No.”

I turn to look at the stranger. “You?”

“Redlog Pines is a small town about two hundred miles north of Duskwood.” He answers. “Known for their wooded forests, much like Duskwood.”

“Why are you looking into a place with forests as creepy as ours?” Phil asks, incredulously. “Didn’t you get enough of that with Hannah’s case?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “You would think.”

“Hey, [MC]!”

I wince at the sound of Dan’s voice. Shooting Phil a look that screams please help me to which he shakes his head amusedly, I turn and plaster on a fake smile as I take in the shocked looks on Cleo and Lilly’s faces. I should have known better than to come to The Aurora and talk to Phil when the three of them were having a conversation across the room. I should have known they would sooner or later see me. I just hoped it was later.

“Hey.” I hop off my stool and make my way across the bar to them. “It’s, uh, fancy seeing the three of you here.”

“What are you doing here?” Cleo asks.

“I haven’t really figured that out.” My eyes meet Lilly’s. “It sounds crazy to say it out loud. But I was hoping that—I’m not sure if Lilly told you—”

“That Jake’s alive.” Cleo nods. “None of us ever really thought he wasn’t.”

I don’t think she means it as a dig—but it still feels like one. Like she’s saying you gave up on him you gave up on him you gave up on him even though she’s not and she didn’t really know him and the only person I can talk to at this table who even might understand is Lilly and even—Jake didn’t confide in her the way he did me.

“Right.” I acknowledge. “So I thought that maybe if I came here, I could trace his steps from when he was here and—I haven’t really thought that far ahead. It’s not like I thought he left me any clues in the forest or anything like that. I don’t think he expected me to be here. He hadn’t wanted me to be the last time we talked. But that was before everything happened.”

Lilly’s eyes track behind me. “Does Jake still have Nymos on your phone?”

“Uh.” I furrow my brows. “I think so. I hadn’t heard from him in a while, but I went back and read through our messages after I talked to Alan and…my phone glitched, like it used to when Jake had hacked it. And then this message appeared on my screen.”

“And by chance, can Nymos track your location?”

“What—” I shake my head. “Maybe. I don’t think I ever really asked him. It didn’t seem necessary at the time.”

“Uh huh.” She focuses on me once more. “Let’s say, for one minute, that Jake has access to Nymos who has access to your location.”

Cleo must catch onto something I’m not sure of. “Jake didn’t want you here.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She waves me off. “He didn’t want you in Duskwood. He had been adamant about that when we were talking about the mine. That’s why he went. If you showed up in Duskwood—”

“Nymos would have alerted him.” Dan finishes.

“Okay…” I’m not entirely sure I’m on the same page as them. “So—you think that Jake found out when I came to Duskwood.”

“Correct.” Lilly beams like she just solved life’s greatest mystery.

“And you think he would—come find me?”

She smiles sympathetically at me—like I’m the world’s biggest idiot for not realizing what she has been trying to say sooner. “I think he already has.”

“You think Jake’s in Duskwood.” I deadpan.

“[MC].” Cleo grabs my shoulders and turns me around. “We think he’s in this bar.”

Stranger, as I had nicknamed him—AKA the guy sitting beside me at the bar, with Phil and Redlog Pines (which he probably only knew about because of me) and the whole Hannah being kidnapped and not taking any of the credit thing—was looking back at me. So was Phil. Like they thought I was the crazy one. Like it would’ve been so hard for him to look and me and say it’s me or anything that might have clued me into the fact that—

“Jake?” I whisper, because I’ve lost quite a bit of sleep over the past couple of months and I’m not one hundred percent sure what—or who—I’m seeing is real. “Are you here?”

He tilts his head and smiles at me. Actually smiles. A bit shyly, like it’s something he’s not used to doing, but maybe like it’s something he could get used to. And I think about how terrible I probably look right now because I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is tousled from constantly pulling at it and my clothes are wrinkled from the plane and the police station and I look like a mess. But our relationship has never been about looks. Clearly. I didn’t even know the person I’d been talking to until Lilly and Cleo and even Dan pointed out the obvious.

“If I—” I close my eyes and open them again. Nope. Still there. “I need you to still be there by the time I reach you because it’s been a—” I sniffle. “—it’s been a rough few months and I don’t think I could handle you disappearing again.”

He stands from the stool he was sitting on and shuffles his feet. Like he’s not quite sure where he’s supposed to stand. If he thinks about moving, I’ll tackle him onto the floor of The Aurora and then apologize to Phil later. It feels like everything I wanted is right here in front of me. And I’m scared to death that it’s not real.

“What’s one thing you would take with you if you were stranded on an island?”

His smile stretches. “My computer.”

And that—that’s what breaks me. I think I might start blubbering like an idiot but I don’t remember the time it takes for me to cross the measly twenty feet between us. All I remember is grabbing his black hoodie—because of course—and dragging him to me. I don’t kiss him, despite how much I want to, because I don’t want our first kiss to be tainted with my snot and tears. Instead, I bury my face in his collarbone and wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

Because I can. Because he isn’t dead.

“Y—You’re here.” I pull back and cup his face with my hands. “How are you here?”

“You came to Duskwood.” He responds, and then—hesitantly—he presses his lips to my forehead in a kiss. “Alan called you.”

“He found your things in the forest.” I whisper back. “He said they’d been there a while. The police hadn’t searched the forest because they assume you died in the mine.”

“They aren’t looking for me here.” He confirms. “I didn’t expect it to take so long for them to find my belongings, but I anticipated that you would find out. At the time, it wasn’t safe for me to reach out and contact you. They kept on my trail for a while before they assumed I died in the mine with Richy.”

“Why didn’t you contact me then?” I ask. “Is it because of what I last messaged you? I didn’t mean it—I swear, I thought you were dead. If I had known you were alive, I would have waited, however long it took. I wasn’t trying to give up on you.”

“Hey.” He places both hands on either side of my face. “I know. I know that, [MC]. That was never why I didn’t reach out to you. I know you said you wanted this life with me. But I didn’t want that for you. But I was selfish. I couldn’t let you go. So I was trying to find a way to make both of those things true. But I was always coming back to you.”

“And did you?”

“Come back to you?” He asks.

I sniffle. “Find a way to make both of those things true.”

“Not entirely.” He admits. “Nymos alerted me you had boarded a plane headed in the direction of Duskwood and I—” He shook his head. “I knew I would find you here.”

“You could have found me sooner.”

He lets go of my face and he feels like he takes my skin with him. “It wasn’t that easy.”

“It could have been.” I demand.

I’m angry again. Now that I know he’s alive and okay and that he could have found me, I’m angry that he didn’t. I told him I would choose that life with him. Over and over and over. He didn’t need to make the decision for me. He didn’t need to try and protect me. And yes, maybe the fact that he did makes my heart flutter a tiny little bit, but that’s besides the point.

“I told you before you left me.” I tell him and I’m aware it sounds like we’ve been in a relationship for five years and I’m aware that everybody in here is watching and listening in on our conversation and they probably all know we’re who we are, two people involved in helping to find the kidnapped Hannah Donfort, and maybe that’s all we’ll ever be in this town. But I would rather be the girl who found Hannah Donfort in Duskwood with him than be me anywhere else. “You told me you would let me go with you.”

“That was before I told you I loved you.”

My heart skips a beat. It screams I love you I love you I love you back, but I say— “What does that have to do with anything?”

He looks somewhat amused. Like he knows I would never hold it against him. It’s clear to both of us that I wouldn’t because even though I’m glaring up at him with my furrowed eyebrows and my lips pouted, I’m still pressed tightly against him. His hands—even though they’ve moved from my face—are now resting on my hips. Pulling my tighter to him. There’s no space in between us. If it was up to me, I’m pretty sure there never would be again.

“[MC].” He says, and oh god I wish he would say my name every day for the rest of his life. “Have I—in the short time we have known each other—ever struck you as the type of person who says I love you? But with you…” His words are a whisper against my lips. “It’s easy to fall back into old emotions with you.”

“I want to be angry with you.” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” I agree. “But I might be if you don’t kiss me.”

He brought one finger underneath my chin and tilted it up until our lips were separated by a fraction of an inch. My eyelids fluttered. I didn’t care that everyone in here was about to see just how much Jake meant to be. I didn’t care because I had waited too long for this. And then—just as I’m leaning toward him to press our lips together, he whispers— “[MC]?”

“Hm.” I acknowledge.

“Who’s Eric?”

My eyelids crack open and I shove at his chest. “That’s what you’re worried about right now? Here I am, in front of you, covered in snot and tears and who-knows-what-else because you’re here right now, and you’re worried about some guy I don’t even know?”

“Who’s Eric?” He repeats.

“Ugh.” I run my hands through my hair and take a step back. “I don’t know. He’s the other side of Thomas or whatever you want to call him. If we lived in a different town.” I glare back at him and try not to admit that I think his jealous side is a little cute. “He messaged me. Thought I picked up his friend from some parking lot and I didn’t, but his friend sent him my number, and it was Hannah all over again. I’m trying to help them.”

“This Adam has been sending you a lot of videos.”

“You know I hate when you hack my phone.” I complain, even though I really don’t. Even though I had prayed for him to help me with this case. “I really don’t know Adam. Like—even less than I know Eric.

“But you know Eric.”

“For like a week.” I reassure. “He added me to this group chat with him and like three other friends of his. They’re desperate to find Adam who has apparently dropped off the face of the earth and I don’t know what to do. I had you with Hannah’s case. And you knew her. And they—” I look over my shoulder at Cleo and Dan and Lilly, who are pretending like they’re not listening in even though I know and Jake knows they are. “—they knew her. And obviously Adam’s friends must know him but I don’t and you don’t and there is no Jake in Redlog Pines.”

“I don’t trust him.” He shakes his head. “Any of them.”

I laugh. “Jake, you didn’t trust half the people in this bar when we first started talking.” I look over at Phil and then Dan. “It doesn’t mean they committed a crime. If I had backed off when you asked me to help you find Hannah, we may never have.”

“I thought that was all thanks to me.” He sounds smug, like that little smiley face he loved to annoy me with (AKA make me fall in love with him). “Did he flirt with you?”

“No.” I deadpan. “I think he was focused on his missing friend.”

“I was focused on my missing sister.” He shoots back.

I close my mouth. Alright. He has a point. But I wasn’t flirting with Eric. He was focused on finding Adam and I was focused on mourning—and then finding—Jake. Maybe it felt like Eric and I were two sides of the same coin. Maybe that’s why I agreed to help him. Because I didn’t want to happen to him what I thought had happened to Jake—to me.

“You’re being ridiculous.” I say instead. “How do you think I could ever entertain the idea of being with somebody else when for the past three months—more than that if you count the time we have actually had together—I’ve been focused on you? On discussing Hannah with you and then talking to you about anything and everything and then worrying about you and then hating you a little for convincing me you should me the one to go into the mine and then mourning you when it was hard to even think about you and then finding you?”

His eyes are wide. I think I’ve rendered him speechless. Which—serves him right. I know he’s not somebody who serves their feelings up on a silver platter. I know that. Obviously, I knew that from the first time I spoke to him. Back when he was nothing more than ??? and I was almost convinced that Dan was right and he was the Man Without A Face—a thought that I now hate with everything in me. But I need him to trust me. Jealousy streak and FBI and the missing persons cases aside, he needs to trust me.

“Trust me.” I cup the sides of his face again. “He’s nothing like you.”

He swallows. “Some people might consider that to be a perk.”

“I don’t.” I say.

And then I’m kissing him and it feels like coming home.

[im-not-a-l0ser]

Max: Richie fills my heart with some sort of new emotion I’ve never felt before. They make me feel warm and want to smile! Steph: Max, I think that’s happiness.

[yannaryartside]

YOU KNOW WHAT? RICHIE WAS RIGHT

SYDNEY IS THE GOOD THING CARMY CANNOT ACCEPT.

Richie was right that Carmen could not accept a good thing that was happening in his life. But the good thing is not Claire, it is Sydney. And they made this clear to the audience in the scene right before. Here:

thank you to @thoughtfulchaos773 for making this gifs for me and the video below!

When Carmy starts talking about not being built for relationships (in other words, closing himself to be loved), Sydney is the first one to exit his vicinity, to leave the Bear, the space Carmy created to deal with his trauma, the place Sydney had repeatedly chosen to stay in in order to help him. She leaves first and promises to come back after having a moment. Claire is only the second one to leave. And that's important.

Long post bellow, very Sydcarmy and very anti claire bear warning

PART 1: WHAT CARMY DOESNT WANT TO SEE.

For the longest time, I did not understand wtf Carmy thinks he feels about Syd. He seems completely comfortable having her as an emotional anchor, even subconsciously, he definitely wants to impress her, and she is the base of his creativity, his muse.

But he would only be confronted by her impact on his mind and heart in the most enormous distress for him. And there have been plenty of them. Big ones and subtle ones.

when he texted her right before opening Michael suicide letter. this is for me the biggest one and they barely knew each other then.

when she calms him down of a panic attack (that was consistent of family and Claire flashbacks)

she calms him down from a panic attack again indoors, right after he tries to calm himself thinking about Claire and his sister.

when she made him laugh at the sauce he thought was dusty

when she made him laugh after confessing his brother was an alcoholic

when he needed her and screamed his name while stuck in the freezer

But besides that? he really doesn't seem to want to meditate too much on why this happens, why only she can affect him this way. After the panic attack in 2x09 he talks to Sydney about how "Claire is so great it scares the shit out of him" and the I thought...'so Claire is great that she gives you panic attacks. But Sydney can make you get out of the panic attacks?"

It definitely seems that subconsciously, there is an "ingredient" in Sydney that Claire doesn't have, but what if that is the ingredient Carmy is most afraid of?

PART 2; WHAT IS THE LOVE THAT SYD OFFERS, AND WHY CARMY CANNOT OPEN HIMSELF TO RECEIVE IT

This is not to discourage my fellow sydcarmies; quite the opposite. I want to present here my ultimate sydcarmy theory: Carmy is afraid of true love, a love that requires getting to know someone, the love that allows you to accept your flaws and feel supported to grow and get better. For someone to truly love you, they have to see you, and Carmy is terrified to be seen and even more terrified of being seen by someone he loves.

In other words, he cannot receive love from a person that truly knows him because he still believes that at his core, he is defective and unworthy of love as his true self.

And who installed that belief in him?

Claire's love does not require true understanding or connection; we have seen countless scenes of them interacting, and their relationship is still superficial at best. Claire is a 'noncharacter," and therefore, nothing but her profession is something the audience or Carmy ever learned about; if anything, it seems that what they most love is each other's company. Claire even encouraged Carmy to act like someone else in the frat party. There is even moments when Claire seems to guide Carmy to say things she wants to hear, indicating she really doesn't care about what he wants, or that she genuinely believes that at the end he will always want what she wants, which is very problematic on his own

I really believe that what Carmy likes about Claire's love is the fact that whenever he is with her he doesn't have to acknowledge all the things that don't work whitin him because she acts like anesthesia and distraction towards it, she makes him ignore how uncomfortable he feels around strangers by forcing him to go with her flow, she tells him to "never apologize" while also presenting herself as the solution for his trust issues "nothing is keeping track of shoes" followed by "I know" from her. She is also that validation to the insecure teen Carmy who had a crush on her.

in the book Whole Again: Healing Your Heart and Rediscovering Your True Self After Toxic Relationships and Emotional Abuse it reads

But there is something about Claire that still triggers Carmy's panic attacks, he even has a hight heart rate talking to her in 3x10 (I kinda love the double meaning that his heart rate is hight because he is "in love" while it is also related to his anxiety, wich is an indication of his brain that something is not right). But Carmy could never admit it, he could never recognize the ways Claire has manipulated him, because the reward of his complacency is feeling loved while also not being seen.

And then there is the love that Syd gives

I am loved even when I stumble. That's all s3 was for. For Sydney to love Carmy even when he stumbles, he probably will be able to see that eventually, but he will have to accept a love that can see who he is, the good, the bad, and the future. Someone who believes in him enough for him to do so too.

[bearsinpotatosacks]

For a while now I've been thinking of a fem!Richie AU and how it would affect things. I've got one main idea and other that's just vibes and truly an AU in the sense that I'm changing a lot of stuff.

It does have me thinking though of how Donna would treat Richie, called Raisa, or Rai, in this AU. We see how she treats Nat but then how she's so nice to Tiff by contrast. If Richie was a woman, would Donna be threatened by her since she's close to Mikey. Or would see like that there's a girl who's just grateful for someone to care about her, and dote on her?

Also, how would her relationship with Mikey change? I still think she's be quite tomboy-ish, mainly because everyone has set her up to be a housewife her whole life, and she doesn't want that. She's one of the guys with Mikey, but he doesn't get a lot of womanly problems, like periods and pregnancy scares, and the abuse she suffers from her Dad.

Everyone would probably also ask when they're to get together, being a male/female friendship. And how would things change with Mikey's addiction? In my mind, she's putting on a tough front because everyone's assumed she'll be this traditional role that she's never wanted. So when Mikey falls into addiction, and she's left to look after the Beef and the Berzattos, would it hurt more because she's fallen into the same role that she didn't want?

I still think she'd be with Tiff, but that would change things too. I can see her being hurt when Tiff gets with Frank after their divorce, since she might bitterly think that she was an experiment of Tiff's sexuality.

And how would she think of herself? I feel like she'd be conflicted in her femininity, since it was forced on her for her most of her childhood, but she can want to be feminine. I think this intermingles with her relationship with Mikey, with him half seeing her as one of the guys then getting reminded that she's a woman and being shocked, or confused?

The two AUs are one which follows canon more, with her getting with Tiff, but there's more focus on trying to have a kid as a wlw couple and fem!Richie miscarrying. They still get divorced, and there's more tension between Richie and Mikey because of how they both have feelings for the other but don't go there because of what everyone else assumes, and how neither of them want to ruin their friendship despite the other also wanting them. Richie gets pregnant with Mikey's baby, then he dies, and that's another thing with her being pregnant in her mid-forties.

[pearlzier]

⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🐾 ★

pairing : carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary : carm is fucking flabbergasted to hear you've never had a proper valentine's day, let alone a special meal. so he has to rectify it as soon as possible.

word count : 2.28k

tags: the bear, jeremy allen white, fluff, valentine's day, carmen berzatto, carmy berzatto, established relationship, awkward carm <3, BEST MAN EVER.

a/n: got this idea from @aliaugustaa, i thought it was so cute so i just had to do it :3 who needs an irl valentines when u have ur little chef man, making sure u know u deserve the best amiright.

it all started when carmen had overheard you, syd and tina talking. he'd been in his office, trying to get some work done with the door slightly ajar, considering the air conditioning in the room was shit, when the three of you had struck up a conversation. he hadn't paid much attention to it. he occasionally tuned into the sound of your voice, of course, but the details of the words you were saying remained mostly lost on him.

until he heard the mention of ‘valentine's day’ come from tina. fuck. if he had to be honest, it'd been years since he'd last.. celebrated? valentine's day? before you, he didn't actually have any reason to do anything for it. carmen avoided the day like the plague, actually, with the bare minimum being done in terms of heart themed menu times. but even he knew that you would've been expecting a valentine's gift from him, right? you two had been dating for what, nearly a year now, so he had to think of something.

that started his panic in terms of what he was going to get you. he had no fucking clue. but what took him out even more was your words, as you leant against the counter with your notepad: “valentine's day is so overrated,” okay.. “i haven't had a valentine since i was like, fifteen, and i'm perfectly fine.”

perfectly fine.

his blue eyes darted quickly to the calendar on his desk, fixing onto ‘february 14th’ almost instantly. he can't bite back a smile at the heart you'd drawn around the date, with ‘v-day’ scrawled messily on it. but all the cuteness aside, he had.. one week. he didn't need to do anything amazing for you, no, considering you did think the holiday was overrated, however he felt there was an unsworn duty for him to prove to you that you were special, and deserved the best.

he sorted the week that he had left into phases. there were four phases, all of them intricately, messily, planned to ensure you'd have a great day. and he'd managed to do all of it right under your nose.

of the four phases, first came the easiest one. slowly easing you into the idea of valentine's day. you weren't stupid, no, you were quiet observant and god knows you would've picked up on any new behaviours from your boyfriend, so he had to try to integrate the day of love into work first.

convincing everyone to mention valentine's day, not obsessively, but repetitively to try get it into your routine wasn't difficult. it was a restaurant, for god's sake, of course they'd have some sort of valentine's menu, right?

so he got marcus to start making some particularly love themed desserts — “uh, sure. don't mind it.” you hadn't seemed to pay much attention to the ginormous order of cupid stickers out back, which worked heavily in his favour.

“yo, cousin, don't worry. she'll be walkin’ ‘round with the whole ass arrow by the time i'm done,” — richie was just as eager to get you in a lovey-dovey mood, with his passing comments about how eva was a total bachelorette and that all the kids in her class were gonna be throwing presents onto her desk.

there was no way to tell whether that was true or not. no one really asked.

“hey, cool, i'm feeling it,” — tina was also happy to help, being overly lovey with you around the restaurant. it was quite unlike her, but still, you didn't mind the affection. little hugs, forehead kisses from dear aunt tina weren't that bad.

“she's gonna realise that we're going overboard,” — syd was the most reluctant. she'd have much rather told you about what they were doing, as opposed to keeping it a secret. however carm was good at convincing her, and it was for a good cause too. so, she let it slide, pushing the valentine's agenda with little doodles of cupids or hearts on her menu designs. you liked them.

so that was phase one done. pretty simple, if carmy says so himself. and you didn't mention anything about it. perfect. he felt a little weird keeping something from you, but, of course, it was a good cause, right?

with phase one completed, he had to move onto phase two. this one was probably his second favourite of all of them. bringing valentine's into the house. valentine's day was all about love. he loves you, of course. it was the reason why he was doing all of this in the first place. so he thought the best way to do this phase was to get you in the mood.

you were very clearly confused by the romcom that was playing on the tv screen when he ushered you into the living room, but you didn't ask many questions considering how tired you were. “carm,” you began, brow furrowing, before you shrugged, moving over to settle on the couch. tilting your head over to the direction of the kitchen, your eyes found carmy bringing over the chinese takeout. it'd been a while since you two had indulged in it, but he knew full well it was your favourite. “you're the best,” his smug little smile told you a lot, but not about his little scheme and its phases.

“i know, babe,” he hums, bringing over the tray and settling it onto the coffee table. carmen shuffled over, settling onto the couch beside you, gently lifting your box onto your lap before he took his own. it wasn't unlike him to take care of you like this, but there was something more tender in how he was helping you. sweet, yes, but it was making you a tad bit suspicious. “you okay?” he asked softly, voice gentle and low, as a small little smile played on his lips.

“mhm,” you nodded, just snuggling beside him with the takeout box in your grasp. you two usually didn't watch romcoms, usually finding a good drama or sitcom however you didn't mind it. this one in particular was quite good.

and besides, carmen having his arm slung around your waist as you two ate was a perfect feeling. so despite your suspicions, you let him have this moment without asking him.

that was phase two done. not too shabby, really. richie and, actually, literally everyone in the bear was a tad bit sick of carmen's rambling about how amazing you were. they literally all knew it, since you were their colleague, but god, could this man talk.

the third phase was one that carmy realised perhaps should've come earlier. it was just getting you things that you liked, without you realising. which was harder than it sounded, considering carmen was shit at keeping things from you, and you were usually the one who looked at orders to the apartment. so he needed the help of his sister, natalie. she was so eager to help that it was a little overwhelming. “so what do they like anyway?” natalie asked as she pushed the cart beside carmen, eyes flickering over to his in curiosity. “bear?”

he was uh, stressing. he loved you so much, and—well, “god, sugar, i love her—” he ran a hand through his curls, eyes widening as soon as he saw the giant valentine's day display in the store. a quiet groan slipped past his lips and he bit his knuckles for a moment, glancing desperately over at his sister. “peach deserves the fuckin’ world, y'know? just wan’ make it special for her,” the pity, and adoration, in natalie's gaze softened her eyes immediately and she gave him a quick pat on the back.

“right,” it was her personal mission now to ensure that you and her brother had a perfect day on valentine's. she was sure of it. a small little grin played on her lips as she ushered him over to the display, and she leant against the cart. “okay, what would she like? something lovey? sentimental?”

“don't fuckin’ know,” carmen muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple as he looked over the many valentine's themed things available. holy shit, this was harder than he thought. he knew you so well and yet, what you'd like evaded him.

“okay, well,” natalie picks up a random white teddy bear, brows raising in question as she offers it to her brother. he grabs at it, squeezes it perhaps a little too hard out of frustration but slowly relaxes his tight grip on it. “okay, that one's going in.”

the shopping trip continued like this, with natalie suggesting things that she thought you might like, with carmy giving his wordless responses. it was kind of therapeutic for nat, to be fair. and carmen was getting the stuff he needed for you. he'd have to thank natalie after, considering soon after he was done with phase three, he was into the final phase. the actual valentine's gift.

this was probably his favourite part. of course, carmen was a chef by nature. so he knew a valentine's dinner was in order. he was sort of sick of hearing anything related to the saint, however he could relax with this part. he'd made sure that syd would keep you out of the apartment for at least three hours. having even gone to the lengths of giving money for you guys to spend, he was clearly working hard. he knew your palette, so well in fact, that he didn't even think twice about what he was preparing.

from what you loved to eat, to what you despised, carmen knew it all. and he wanted to spoil you in terms of what he made, so he also gave sydney strict instructions that the two of you weren't allowed to get any food. hey, he wanted you to have enough room to eat.

he'd planned everything immaculately, of course, but when he heard you and syd at the door, he almost panicked. the table was laid out perfectly, all of your favourite foods available. a flush filled his cheeks at the thoughts of richie's previous words: “shit, cousin’, you a fuckin’ simp,” rang through his head and he scratched the back of his neck nervously, sitting at the table.

“thanks, syd,” your voice called from down the hall at the door, your smile evident in your voice. it made the butterflies in his stomach flutter, and he shifted where he sat. “m'back, carm!” you were making your way down the hall now, nearing the living room where you assumed he'd be. he was not. “carm—?”

your brow furrowed, since he'd have mentioned he'd be out if he was going to be. “carm,” you hummed as you wandered into the dining room area, not looking into the room until you did, and your lips parted into an expression of shock. “holy shit.”

you're surprised you didn't burst into literal tears seeing carmen sat at the table, wide blue eyes lifting to yours from the table cloth. his cheeks were rosey, a sheepish expression adorning his lips. “fuck, this is dumb,” he got up, scratching the back of his neck once more, “i know you don't—oh, shit, peach—”

his eyes widened as you barelled into him, wrapping your arms around his frame as his hands slid over your lower back. biting his bottom lip, he lifted a hand to your face, just to see your expression. “oh my god, carm,” tears threatened to spill from your eyes, bottom lip trembling. carmen's expression only softener, and grew a tad bit guilty.

“oh, no, baby, don't cry,” his thumb stroked over your jaw, brow furrowing. carmen soon pressed a peck to your forehead, his hand cupping your lower back and bringing you into his body. “can't eat ‘n’ cry at the same time,” he soothed with a soft chuckle whilst he cradled the back of your head.

“so this is what you were doin’?” your mumbly words come all soft, watery, glossy eyes lifting up to his as you frown. you may be about to cry, sure, but it's for a good reason. “all this time? oh my god, is it because of what i said to syd and tina?”

a sheepish nod followed, his hands brushing away your tears gently. he smiled, nuzzling your nose with his own as he brushed his lips with yours, squeezing you tight against his chest. “uh-huh,” he muttered, “didn't notice earlier?”

“nuh-uh,” god, you felt kinda dumb for not realising. but also glad you didn't, since you wouldn't be as overjoyed as you are right now. you squeeze tight around his waist once more before you drag him back into sitting down. hey, you were hungry considering his little scheme. “god, carm,” you bite your bottom lip, looking over all the food. not to mention the valentine's themes decorations.

“so everyone was in on it?” you lean against the table, watching as carmen dished out your plate for you, his blue eyes lingering on the food before they lifted to yours when he heard your question. he gives a little nod, pushing your plate towards you. then, he pours you a glass of wine, all smiles. “god, that's why—oh my god!”

giddy, absolutely giddy, would describe you right now. over the fucking moon.

“and when you and nat went out? you guys never go out, holy shit,” you grabbed your fork, leaning against the table with a little smile. that smile soon became the biggest grin he'd ever seen. “babe, this is too much,” you frowned, gaze all fond.

“wait till you see the gifts,” he mumbled around a spoonful of pasta, avoiding your gaze and focusing on his plate.

“carmen!”

[pianofirepirate]

things that aren't technically canon but they're things sk cast members have said so they're canon to me

- Linda and Gary have boned

- Gary wasn't affected by Wiggly, he just wanted to be apart of something

- Jeff blim is the principal of Hatchetfield High

- Richie and Trevor are twins

- Becky is Irish (this might be fully canon)

- Ted is fully in love with Charlotte

[kairithemang0]

Peter was permanently affected by the deaths of Ruth and Richie and I wish there were more people talking about how it's probably going to fuck him up. Especially since he's likely going to lose his brother too, if he hasn't already. Peter's first reactions to the deaths of his friends are miniscule (something that I think is wrong with the writing of npmd but whatever), and I think as time goes on, and as his life calms down after the events of the show, it will negatively affect the rest of his life. He's horrified, he never even truly understands how they die, only that it was Max, and that it was brutal. Richie's blood was used to coat the locker room with a message of death to people in his school, Ruth's body was found in the auditorium by a teacher. How could he walk in those places again without thinking about what happened to his 2 close friends? The two people that didn't bully him? He talks to Steph about this. She lost her dad. Solomon may not have been great, but who does Steph have now? They cope together, I think they end up crying in Steph's car a lot. They hold each other, reminding the other it'll be ok, even while they're both dealing with tremendous loses in their lives, and at such a young age, along with all the other horrifying things that happened in those weeks after Max's death. They killed a man. They watched him die in front of them and then took his body apart and buried it under floorboards. They saw gods of chaos in front of them and had to decide which one of them was going to die. I don't think they're ever able to move on from those moments, always a permanent painful memory that never goes away, no matter how much money they sink into therapy to try to help.

[imsosorrys-posts]

Play Pretend - Chapter One

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Summary: When your best friend starts dating your longtime crush, you enlist the help of a gorgeous Chicago chef.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, angst, fake dating

Words: 1.4k

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Thought I'd intro this with a short chapter, also thank you for the lovely messages! Lmk what you think of this and if you would like to be tagged! 🧚‍♀️

Chapter One

You checked your phone for what felt like the hundredth time that day, James still hadn’t replied to your message, though he’d been online since you’d sent it earlier that day. In the past week or so, his replies had gotten shorter and now he’d stopped replying altogether. You weren’t dating but everyone knew it was only a matter of time and they knew he was yours. The distance between New York and Chicago was tough but you didn’t want it to affect things.

The lack of a reply only made your mood worsen, so much so it caused you to snap at one of your sweetest students. Guilt curled in your stomach at the way her little face fell. It was at lunchtime when you finally found out what was going on.

You picked up Emma’s phone call on the second ring and grinned as you spoke to her, “hey!”

“Hey girl! How’s Chicago?”

“Chicago is good; miss you guys though.”

“Aw, miss you too! But, I got some good news, James and I are coming out to see you in a couple of weeks. The 14th we’re coming out!” she practically squealed, she sounded so excited.

“What about the others? How come it’s just you and James? Not that I’m complaining, I’m just wondering.”

“Oh, I thought he told you that we’re dating.”

Your heart dropped as your blood went cold. Stupid tears stung at your eyes, this is what you had been worried about. Emma was gorgeous and ever since she’d split up with her boyfriend a couple of months ago you were worried that she’d start dating James, and now she was.

“Y/N?” she prompted and you realised that you’d been quiet for too long.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here,” you fought to keep your voice steady, “how did that happen?” you tried to ask as casually as you could.

She sighed wistfully, “we were at the usual bar and he offered to walk me home, the rest is history I guess. We’ll go out for food when we come over.”

“Yeah, course. I’ll bring my boyfriend,” you regretted the words as soon as you’d said them, feeling dread wash over you as Emma squealed again.

“Boyfriend?!”

“Yeah um, he’s a chef,” Richie owed you a favour and he was cute enough to use for one date.

“Ooh how exciting! Well, I’d better go, love you.”

“Love you too,” you said between gritted teeth.

When she ended the phone call, you had a little cry, you knew the world wasn’t ending but that’s what it felt like for now. When the kids came back from lunch, Bella – the girl you had snapped at – hesitantly approached your desk with a bunch of handpicked flowers.

“For you, Miss Y/L/N.”

You smiled at her and took the flowers, “aw, thank you sweetie,” she still looked uncertain so you sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at you. I’m not mad.”

The kids seemed to sense that something was different because they were angels for the rest of the day. To be fair, they were always good but today, the kids that usually kicked up a fuss were silent.

Richie’s cute cousin, Carmen came to pick Eva up at the end of the day. You didn’t know much about him other than the fact that he’d just moved back to Chicago in the last month or so.

His dimpled smile faltered as he glanced at you, “Shit, are you…” he trailed off, his blue eyes widening as he glanced over at Eva who was getting her coat, completely oblivious to the conversation, “are you okay? Looks like you’ve been cryin’.”

You flushed slightly, rubbing at the smudged mascara beneath your eyes, “yeah its um, it’s been a day.”

He laughed, running a hand through his curls, “yeah, I feel that,” he looked over at Eva who was lingering around the door, getting fidgety, “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Carmy,” you smiled, “bye, Eva,” you smiled at the little girl who waved at you before both of them left.

Since it was a Friday, you met Richie at the bar you frequented and he’d brought a couple of people that he worked with. Sydney had a cocktail waiting for you and Marcus had brought you a slice of red velvet cake. You all but drained your first drink as you explained your predicament to Richie.

“Shit, that’s rough. Sorry angel.”

“Will you pretend to be my boyfriend please?”

Richie laughed as he leaned back in his seat, stopping short when he caught sight of your dead-pan face, “you’re not kidding?”

“No.”

He shook his head, “no, absolutely not. You’re gorgeous and everything, Y/N but I’m far too old for you.”

“Please, Richie! It’s literally just one meal, they won’t come back for months and then I can tell them we just broke up. You know I have too much pride to go back on it now. Please, you won’t even have to kiss me.”

Richie huffed out a sigh as he looked at your pleading face, he gave you a dirty look as you used your puppy dog eyes, “I’ll think about it, come by the restaurant tomorrow and we’ll talk about it further.”

You nodded with a sigh, deciding not to push it any further than you already had. The next morning, you arrived at The Beef with breakfast and coffee for Richie, hoping it would soften him up. He groaned as you walked in. He looked hungover and by the look on his face, he was hoping that you’d forgotten about your mad plan.

You held up one hand in surrender as you leaned your hip against the counter and passed him the food and coffee, “bacon and egg breakfast sandwich and a black coffee.”

“Black coffee? It’s all about iced vanilla latte’s,” he fell silent and muttered a thanks when you gave him a filthy look.

When he was finished, you decided to approach the subject again, “so… will you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Richie made a big show of thinking about it before he shook his head, “sorry princess. No can do.”

“Richie!” you scolded him, “you literally made me bring you breakfast and now you won’t even help me out?!”

“Hey! I never asked you to bring me breakfast,” he shouted back just as loudly so you didn’t hear the footsteps approach.

“What the fuck is going on? Oh, hey, Y/N/.”

You whirled around and found yourself face to face with Carmy, “hi, Carmy. Didn’t realise you worked here.”

“His brother left the place to him,” Richie piped up and Carmy gave him an evil look as he looked back at you.

“Is everything okay?”

“She needs a fake boyfriend.”

“Richie!”

“What?”

You and Carmy both let out your exclamations at the same time and you glared at Richie, folding your arms, “so you won’t help me at all then?” Richie shook his head with a shrug of his shoulder.

With a huff you stomped to the door, slamming it behind you as you walked out into the freezing cold. You heard the door shut again and you turned round to give Richie a piece of your mind, stopping short when you saw it was Carmy. He had a sheepish look on his face as he leaned against the brick wall and you quickly followed suit.

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound was Carmy flicking his lighter to light his cigarette, “why do you need a fake boyfriend?” he mumbled as he ran a hand through his hair.

You sighed, picking at the chipped varnish on your nails, “my friend is coming over with the new guy she’s dating. I panicked and told her I was dating someone too. It’s literally for one date, I don’t know why Richie refuses to help me.”

Carmy was silent for a moment before he spoke up, “I’ll do it.”

“What?” you spluttered, “we hardly know each other.”

He shrugged, “if you went to Richie, you must be desperate.”

You laughed, “yeah I am,” you eyed him for a couple of moments, he was cute and like you said, it was just for one date and he didn’t even have to kiss you, “fine, if you don’t mind. I’ll take you up on the offer.”

“Sure,” he smiled just a bit too brightly, “let me know when you’re free and we’ll grab coffee to go over our story.”

You nodded, thankful for the help but you couldn’t help but feel like you made a bad decision.

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

Taglist: @johnmurphys-sass

[formyloveoflove]

The Bear S3 and the Choices We Make

Ok. After a second watch of S3, I'm feeling a little bit more optimistic about the future. Trust - it's a sad ending. It's my worst nightmare for Sydney. But there's still hope, and that all lies in what Carmen and Syd decide to do next. Season 3 Spoilers - read at your own risk :)

In S3 E10 Forever, we see our two mains go through a breakthrough. Starting with Carmen, he finally confronts his former boss (who has a name, i think, but fuck him, I ain't using it). It's the first (and only time) that we see Carmen proactively voice his resentment. He avoids his mom (rightfully so imo). He never got the chance with Mikey. But he approaches him, expects the man to have repent (maybe), or at the very least, have a little remorse.

He doesn't. He regrets nothing. In fact, he takes credit for Carmen's success: his hard work, his skills, and his talent. He tells Carmen that he should be thanking him, and that's not even the worst of it. No, for me, it is when he says

Carmen: My life stopped. Chef: That's the point, right? [...] You wanted to be great. You wanted to be excellent. So you got rid of all the bullshit, and you concentrated, and you got focused, and you got great. You got excellent. It worked. You're here. Look at all this

Sound familiar? It should. It's the same sentiment that Carmen said in the Season 2 finale. Remember, he said,

I wasn't here. Right? What the fuck was I thinking? Like I was going to be in a relationship? I'm a fuckin' pyscho. That's why I'm good at what I do. That's how I operate. I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could focus, and I could concentrate.

Carmen's thoughts about himself aren't even his own. They were drilled into him by a man who wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire. He was emulating the abusive behaviors and patterns that crushed him, that gave him "uclers, panic attacks, and nightmares" on the people that he cares about. On his sister, on Richie, on Tina and Marcus. and especially on Sydney, who is the only one who knows exactly how bad it can get. He's hurt those closest to him. He hurts them daily. And for what? And for why? For his own ego.

And this realization leads us to Carmen's first cry.

For three whole seasons, we see this man lose his idolized brother to suicide, witness his alcoholic mother physically, emotionally, and mentally abuse him, and experience mental degradation to the point where it affects his physical health. Not once did he shed a tear. This is the first time Carmen Berzatto lets himself cry. And I think this is the best thing for him. If he chooses to acknowledge the err of his ways, turn back course, and begin again, I think The Bear could be what he wanted it to be. He needs to decide to stop running, stop fighting himself and everybody around him. He needs to let go. Let it rip, right?

However, if this is what he decides to do, the cards ultimately fall into Sydney's hands.

If anybody's been through hell and back, it's Ms. Sydney Adamu. All season she's been forced to work in a volatile environment, putting herself between Carmen and whoever's the victim of his anger. She has her ideas shut down, her skills demeaned, and her credit is outright non-existent. Staff keeps quitting; they're not making any money; and Cicero and Co. is doing some shady background shit.

She's trapped, but not really. Not until she signs that Partnership Agreement. But like she told her dad in S2 E9 Omelette, she doesn't think she has another one in her. She can't have The Bear fail like Sheridan Road. She doesn't want to make the same mistakes she did last time. She wants to grow and learn and make her mark on the industry - prove she's not a failure.

She's waiting for Carmen to make good on his promises from The Table Scene, but he's not.

"You deserve my full focus." But his focus is not on her. Remember the Carmen that noticed when something was off with her? Remember the "say more?" or the "what's up with you?" Remember when they worked together, when the menu was truly theirs? Where was Sydney's "margin" moment? What did Carmen do this scene that signaled to Sydney that he was there and present.

"I couldn't do this without you." He does everything without her. Don't even get me started. From the menu to the list of nonnegotiables. Syd gets to make no decisions after being forced to make ALL the decisions. What is she there for? To be Carm's wrangler, his doormat? What has he does to convince her that she is invaluable?

He's egotistical. He's verbally abusive. He's the exact person that she warned him not to be. That he assured her that he wouldn't be in S1 E3 Brigade. She said,

You know I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But, in order for that to be true, we need to run things different. [...] But you just didn't really listen, and if this is going to work the way I think we both want it to work, I think we should probably try to listen to each other. The reason why I'm here, and not somewhere else or for someone else, is because I think I can stand out here. I can make a difference here. We could share ideas. I could implement things that make this place better. And I don’t wanna be wasting my time, working on another line or tweezing herbs on a dish that I don’t care about.

He didn't follow through the first time, so she left. But now, it's different. She's put her blood, sweat, and tears into this place. She's made a place (a home even) at The Bear. Leaving is not as simple anymore.

S1 Syd would've taken that CDC offer in a heartbeat. But building something and it failing (like The Bear. like Sheridan Road.) is terrifying. Slowly but surely, Carmen has been chipping away at her confidence and her fire. So much so that good things, like The Offer or the review of her risotto from The Beef, don't feel like good things.

Sydney's Panic Attack is HUGE for her character. We see Sydney at her lowest: her most frightening and vulnerable. She's uncertain. She's in a constant state of panic. And the person that she trusted with her fears and insecurities facilitated this, drove her to this point. It's heartbreaking. I cried when I saw it. No one would blame her for jumping ship. At this point, I encourage it (but she has to talk about it, acknowledge it. no running).

Now, if Carmen decides to change his ways, he'd have apologized to Sydney twice without changed actions. She'd have to believe him after many, many broken promises. At this time, she doesn't trust him, can't rely on him. But when having to decide between staying or going, will she try to trust him again?

Will she? Should she?

That's where I'm at so far. I have more thoughts, but I'll write those out when I get back from my weekend trip.