#Mikey's out here having a great time!

[everythingundertheskycomics]

Ultimate Victory!

Criminal Engagement

2/2

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Next time: Do(w)n Time!

[turtleblogatlast]

I still think about how Leo’s ideal day out for the fam’s venture into the Hidden City was basically just an effort to get some rest and relaxation because boy does he never get that ever.

[handfulofmuses]

After dealing with Bradford laughing for hours while his legs malufunction:

"GO .... CHASE ... A MAILMAN!!!!"

[wannabeschyulersister]

sleepy berzatto

Part of you didn’t want to wake him up. He looked so peaceful as he slept. For once, the anxieties of the day couldn’t mess with him.

He was still in his work clothes. You could tell that he meant to just rest his eyes for a few minutes before he fell into a deeper sleep. He was supposed to pick you up from the airport when your flight got in.

You touched his head lightly brushing his hair away from his face. It stirred him awake.

“(Y/n)?” He mumbled. He felt like he was in a dream.

“Yeah, it’s me, Carmy.”

When the realization hit, Carmen quickly stood up from the couch stumbling a bit. He was clearly still half asleep, “Fuck! I fell asleep. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Baby. I didn’t mean to-“

You reached out to steady him, “Carmen, relax. Michelle sent a car for me. They didn’t want to wake you.”

He took a deep breath and pulled you closer to him, “I’m sorry.” It felt so nice to be in his arms after weeks of not seeing him.

“Don’t be. I made it safely. We’re together again. That’s all that matters.” You rubbed your hand soothingly on his back. You didn’t want him stressing at all during your visit.

“How was your flight?” He asked as you took your coat off.

“It was fine. I read for most of it. I had the whole row to myself.”

He grabbed your coat and went to set it on the hook near the door. When he joined you on the couch, he quickly captured your lips with his. Now that he was fully awake, he could show you how much he missed you.

“Three weeks is too long for us to be apart, Berzatto.” You said before he kissed you again.

“I’ve been goin’ crazy wishing you were here with me.” Carmen confessed.

“I have too. Sugar is probably tired of hearing how much I’ve missed you everyday.”

Carmen chuckled, “She told me that she’s always happy to have you around. You’re the sister that she’s always wanted.”

Your heart soared at his comment. It meant a lot that Sugar enjoyed your company.

“Mikey invited me to dinner at The Beef two days ago. I went and spent some time with him. Richie and Tina ate with us also.”

Carmen was a little quiet, “That’s-that’s nice”

“It was nice, Bear. I enjoy hearing his stories.”

He nodded, “I’m glad you had a good time.”

You touched his face gently, “When is the last time you spoke to him?”

He shrugged his shoulders a little, “I think three weeks or somethin’.”

“He told me that he’s really proud of you. I am too. I’ve always been proud but when I get photos of the stuff you’re creating, it’s a whole new level.”

Carmen smiled sheepishly. Before you, he wasn’t great at receiving compliments. He could hand them out easily but when it was reversed, he just didn’t know how to handle it. The longer the two of you were together, he was getting better at it.

“I couldn’t do any of this without you, (Y/n).” Carmen said softly.

“I’m so happy to be cheering you on. I wish I could come visit more but work has been insane and I barely got the time to come for a few days now.”

Carmen placed his hand on your thigh and rubbed his thumb against it soothingly, “I feel bad that you’ve been doin’ all of the traveling to make sure that we see each other.”

“There will be a time when you’re the one having to come to me. I don’t mind it right now.”

Carmen kissed your forehead, “I don’t deserve you.”

It tore your heart piece by piece every time he confessed that. You hated that it was a thought in his mind.

“Yes, you do, Bear. I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you. Until that day comes, I will continue to tell you until you finally believe me.”

You wrapped your arm around his midsection and rested your head on his chest. His hand automatically went to your hair. It was moments like this that he cherished the most. All of the stress and headaches were worth it for the moment to be sitting with the love of his life.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Rottmnt raph and mikey date headcanons. Both fluff and smut?

Random Headcanons About Raphael (18+)

Rise!Raphael x reader

A/N: I assume you’re talking about the Random Headcanons (18+) I did for Leo and Donnie. Well, here is Raph. Mikey might come soon😉❤️

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Size kink?, implied sex, mentioning of mating season.

When Raph first met you, his first thoughts about you weren’t sexual, what so over. No, they were kind and praiseful. Raph honestly thought that you were a very beautiful person who deserved so much, but at that point he didn’t know you well enough to form any other opinions about you. Raph would never just form an opinion without getting to know you first.

Time took his time to get to know you as a friend, and with each day that passed, he learned that you were not just beautiful on the outside but on the inside as well. Truly a person he could trust and feel comfortable around. You were the type of person he would allow close to himself and his family.

As you and Raphael’s friendship grew stronger, so did his feelings for you. He soon found that butterflies erupted in his stomach whenever he was around you, his hands becoming clammy as he got nervous, and his face becoming hot whenever you would compliment him.

Raph quickly found himself falling for your stable and careful nature. Just like him, you were very aware of others’ safety and comfort, and to Raph, it was like meeting someone you finally understood him and his attempts to protect his family and friends. And as those feelings grew, so did his thoughts about you. It started with innocent fantasies about the two of you spending time together, kissing when no one saw it, holding hands and snuggling close at night. And as his feelings grew, some of these fantasies would take on much more spicy turns, often involving you and him tangled up in intense passionate sessions of love making.

When you and Raph started dating, he took his time before trying to initiate physical intimacy with you. He wanted to make sure that you both felt comfortable in the relationship, before he even thought about bringing it up with you.

But when Raph finally decided to bring it up, he wouldn’t let it happen before he had talked it through with you, several times. Raph had many concerns when it came to sex - even though he really wanted to get physical with you - but to feel safe himself, he just had to talk it over with you.

One of Raph’s greatest concerns when it came to sex with you, was his size compared to you. To say it directly - Raph was scared that he would accidentally split you into two or unintentionally hurt you. The fear of accidentally hurting you often plagued Raph. He was scared of losing control while mounting you. That somehow he would turn into a beast and do unspeakable things to you.

That was when your caring nature came in to sooth your boyfriend. And after several days of reassurance, along with long hugs and many nights of cuddling and calm words, Raph finally trusted himself enough to have sex with you.

Turned out that Raph was very passionate when it came to sex, just like had been in his head when he fantasized about you. He took great care of you, bringing you large amounts of pleasure each and every time.

And as you and Raph became more secure in your sexual endeavors, Raph felt like he was finally able to trust himself during your most intimate times, leading to you and him playing around with more spicy and rough ideas, even deciding to let you stay with him during his mating season. That led to some wild memories, that you and Raph would laugh and talk about for many years to come.

[earlycuntsets]

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Episode Title: Three Cheers For Warped's Little Darlings! Synopsis: From almost getting shot to fear of karaoke, My Chem comes clean. Cast: Gerard, Franky, Mikey and Jenna. [Photos by L. La Mer] Air Date: Warped Tour/Summer 2004 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Other than being able to sit down for interviews with wonderful people like us, what does being on the Warped Tour mean to you? Frank: Oh wow! Personally, ever since I was in bands at thirteen I tried to do battle of the bands... play Warped Tour and things like that. I never actually won any of the battle of the bands but it's a dream come true to be on Warped. It really is! It's unlike any other tour we've been on and you can't prepare for it in any way. But it's definitely a dream come true to play with some of my favorite bands of all time.

Seeing as though it's Warped's ten year anniversary, give us some insight as to the kind of kid you were when you were ten. Frank: Asshole. I was such an asshole! Uhhh Delinquent. I was told I was too intelligent for my own good but I don't know about that. I didn't like authority and this was at ten! Gerard: Tell me what has changed? Frank: She just said ten, she didn't say now! But I could give you the same answer; you never know! Gerard: I didn't want to say anything. Frank: I was pretty much like I am today but I wish I knew now what I knew then. Does that make sense? Gerard: I liked Star Wars when I was ten.

There's a rumor circulating around that My Chemical Romance is the love child of the Warped tour... Gerard, Mikey and Frank in unison: Whoa! Wow!

Gerard: We are loved. Frank: But what does that mean, that the Warped Tour and another tour got together and had... Gerard: Yeah like Ozzfest and Demolition Derby got together and... but yeah, I feel it. We are extremely accepted and supported and loved so... Frank: But I almost got shot the other night though. [He says this almost nonchalantly as if it's a frequent occurence.]

Shot? As in shot, shot? Frank: Pellet gun shot.

Why would someone want to shoot you? Frank: Oh, I wasn't allowed in a certain VIP barbecue that I wanted in to. Mikey: Chris was like, "just go up and tell them my name and you'll get in" and the guy was like, "who?" Frank: And he was like "I'll shoot you." [Forms a gun with his hand and points it at me.] But as far as a lot of the bands on this tour, they really respect us and it's great because we really respect the bands. They come to watch us all the time and it's been amazing. Gerard: We're very lucky. We feel lucky everyday when some of our favorite bands make time out of their day to come and watch us. And they do that everyday. Frank: The other day, well not yesterday but the day before, we closed and it was really late like 8:10 to 8:40 and we didn't think anybody was going to come to watch us. But it was all of our favorite bands, like the Souls (Bouncing Souls) came out, Anti-Flag came out... It's a beautiful tour! Gerard: It made me proud.

Kinda like what happened today? Frank: Oh yeah! That was amazing!

What happened anyway? Frank: All the power went out; the generator exploded. Gerard: It just went out yeah. Frank: It has never happened to us, ever.

The response was incredible. Frank: We traded a great set for a great experience. Gerard: Exactly!

*Note: Earlier that day in mid-performance, My Chem lost all sound just as they began to play their hit song "I'm Not Okay." Instead of walking off and calling it a day, the band and the crowd began to sing the song accapela. It was quite impressive to watch the dedication and love that their fans have towards them.

Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge is a very strong title. Whose concept was it and is the band afraid of karma? Gerard: Is the band afraid of karma? Uh...wow! Frank: See here's the thing... [Turns to Gerard] Before you say anything... think about what you were going to say because I want to say something about karma. Mikey: I think the album is a product of good karma. I think we've done good things for people and I think that what occurs from the album can only be good. We've never done anything wrong to anybody. Revenge is meant in a different sense, not in the literal sense. You know? Frank: Here's the thing about karma. 'Oh if you don't do this,' something bad is going to happen but who's the one striking down on people? Somebody needs to do that. So if we're the ones to serve the revenge that's fine by me. Maybe we're just the angels of death? Gerard: Now it feels like when we play, we have a purpose. There hasn't been a moment... once in a while you get a little depressed, caught up in something else, but we feel like we have purpose every time we play to do some kind of damage. Not really to ourselves or to the equipment or anything but to what's generally accepted as okay. Like chewing up and spitting up the same bullshit, sounding like everybody else, being homophobic, all these things that are very accepted in punk rock that are amazingly still alive and well. It's fucking shocking... Frank: People never cease to amaze us. Gerard: ...and it doesn't feel like a threat to those bands you know. Really close friends of ours have said that and it's probably the best compliment that I've ever gotten for the band, that we were a threat. Ever since hearing that, I take it to heart everytime we get on stage.

In 'To The End', why does the elevator only go up to ten and would you feel okay getting off on the thirteen floor? Gerard: Well, I felt that picking a lower number would be like 'I can't get high enough' so I had to pick somewhere around ten. I felt like I just needed to get higher; like the top just isn't good enough. I think that's kind of a metaphor in how we feel and how we operate as a band, that the top isn't good enough since that's not what we're after. It's not good enough for us because we want to make a difference and actually change things. We don't just want things thrown at us. But I've gotten off on thirteenth floors. They make them right?

I know someone that lives on the thirteenth floor. Gerard: You do?

I truly do. Frank: It's good luck.

I think so. Frank: I think it's good luck. Gerard: I'm superstitious though.

When you listen to a CD you need something to reference it to. When I listen to MCR, your sound changes from one song to the next and I hear a whole slew of things. Was this done deliberately? Gerard: We can't really write songs that sound alike. We like to capture moods and you can definitely pinpoint those moods. You can say this is the same kind of mood or feel. We like to explore themes and moods but style is something we can't live with ourselves doing over and over. And if that means we run out of material eventually then that's fine because you'll never get something twice from us.

Yeah in like an hour. Frank: I don't know. Gerard: Let's say the whole band died, we'd just get back together and start playing again! [everyone laughs]

You'd find each other. Gerard: Yeah, I think that's what we'd do because this feels like our purpose. You know, it seems like our cause. Frank: We're definitely not done yet! Gerard: Yeah, if we died I feel like we would find each other and just start over.

Do you think writing in the first person makes you more vulnerable? Gerard: Umm... sometimes. I was always worried it was going to make me an egomaniac. I was more worried about that, but then I realized that the way I ended up writing is just more I, I, I, instead of a you and a we. When I say "I" I usually mean the band. I usually mean it in a way that I think that these guys are feeling it at the same time without saying we. [turns to Frank and Mikey] Don't you feel that way? Like when we're on stage and they're singing with me, I feel like they mean it the same way. Frank: It's a more definite thing, more urgent. Gerard: Yeah.

You're in a karaoke bar and you've had too much sake. What song... [Frank turns to Gerard] I know what you're going to say!

...do you sing and do you totally rock it or do you totally kill it? Frank: He rocks the shit out of it! Totally Bon Jovi! Gerard: Bon Jovi... 'Living On A Prayer.' It's funny because a lot of people give me shit when we go to karaoke because I won't do it.

Really? Gerard: Yeah. I'm terrified of karaoke unless I'm wasted! That's the only way I can do karaoke.

You can go on stage and perform for a whole bunch of people... [Gerard shrugs as if to say that he doesn't understand it either] Frank: It's funny because it's rare that we would be out and not wasted. Gerard: Yeah, yeah, that's true. [to Frank] What would you sing? Frank: I have been known to do 'I Got You Babe' with a friend of mine, Greg Southside and we do the shit out it! We've been kicked out of bars because we did it so well. But Ray would like to sing probably 'Only The Good Die Young'. Gerard: By Billy Joel.

In 'You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison' the main character is made to do pushups in drag. If you were forced to so something in drag, what would you choose to do? Gerard: Karate. [everyone breaks out in laughter] Frank: I liked the "if you were forced, what would you choose to do." Gerard: It's like the drag fairy comes by and says "what would you like to do?" Ahhmm yeah, karate. Frank: Really? Gerard: No. Really, I would do what I did when I dressed in drag this one time before. I went to school in drag, in art school and my day was completely different because everybody thought I was a chick. Frank: He looked like Christina Ricci. Gerard: You should see me as a chick. So I went as a girl, as like an experiment and it worked really well and everyone was really nice to me but I couldn't talk obviously... You know train conductors were really cool to me on my commute... Frank: I would date Gerard. Gerard: HA! I looked hot as a chick.

Which of your band mates is most likely to accidentally stick a fork in a toaster... Frank: Mikey.

You are offered something for free. Which do you choose? Sky diving lessons, a custom tattoo, a lap dance from an exotic dancer or 50 free sun tanning sessions? Gerard: Oh the lap dance! Frank: The tattoo. Mikey: What were they again? [Everyone helps little Mikey out] Mikey: I guess the tattoo. Frank: I knew it! Which is funny because you don't have any. Gerard: You would see what you could get and trade it for money.

Seeing as this is an electoral year, which person on the Warped Tour would you choose to run the country and why would they get your vote? Gerard: Fat Mike. Frank: #2 from Anti-Flag. That kid can rally. Gerard: Can they run together? Frank: Sure.

The Velvet Bag of Doom: First up is Frank who pulls fill in the blanks from the bag.

Caution! Do not put _____ anywhere close to me! Frank: Our drummer.

Oh no! I didn't pack _________ Frank: Enough underwear.

If I was ever to miss the bus, I would ________ Frank: Stay home.

Mikey's up next and he pulls word association. First thing that comes to mind.

Video games Mikey: Mario

Birthday Mikey: September

Jack Daniels Mikey: Uh. Coca Cola

Spanking Mikey: I don't know! Gerard: Not even a bare ass? Mikey: No.

Gerard pulls 'name the band associated to the lyric'

"And you will tell all your friends you've got your gun to my head" Gerard: We can do another one because I've sang that one with Taking Back Sunday on stage.

Okay then, round two is a word association again... First thing that comes to mind.

Warped Tour Gerard: Hot

Buses Gerard: Nice

Marijuana Gerard: Stinky

Plastic Surgery Gerard: Awful

Why should the world give a damn about My Chemical Romance? Gerard: Because we give a damn about it. Frank: Save your life. Gerard: Yeah. Good enough for me. And there are so few people that actually do give a damn about the world. Frank: Yeah.

Very true. Gerard: I have a nihilistic attitude so it's like, the new gay...it's popular. You know what I mean? Frank: Popsicle is the new black. Gerard: What did I say? Oh yeah. Screaming is the new gay, everybody's doing it. Frank: I wish it were Popsicle. Gerard: Popsicles? Frank: Popsicles should be the new black and then everyone would have one.

I swear this interview contains 80% of our lore

[yourfavblondy]

How they would react if they saw you wearing their jacket

the tittle is pretty much self explanatory

characters: rindou haitani, mitsuya takashi, draken, mikey

RINDOU

It was cold outside and you like usual forgot your jacket at home. And oh how convenient it was when you saw Rindous jacket just laying around. While your boyfriend was talking to some people you swiftly grabbed his jacket and put it on. The jacket provided you with warmth and comfort, it smelled like Rin, intoxicatingly sweet. "Hey babe have you seen my-" Rindou asked turning around but stopping mid sentence when he saw you. He wanted to put on his jacket but how could he take it from you when you looked so damn cute. A light blush crept onto his face and the tips of his ears. One of the most scary people almost everyone feared was fumbling with his words and blushing profusely just because you wore his jacket. "Rin are you alright you kind of froze." you asked waving a hand infront of the blondes face. "Yeah, I'm fine you just look so damn cute." he chuckled wrapping his arms around you lovingly.

MIKEY

You constantly stole your boyfriends hoodies, I mean it was his fault really why did he have to have such comfortable and pretty hoodies. But despite always wearing his clothes you never wore his Toman jacket. At this point Mikey had gotten used to seeing you in his hoodies, I mean yeah sure butterflies always pooled in his stomach and yeah his heart skipped a beat now and again but he was used to it. What he wasn't used to however was seeing you in his Toman jacket, so you can imagine his shock when you showed up to a Toman meeting wearing his jacket. The words leader Mitsuya embroidered on the sleeve were on full display for everyone to see. Everyone knew you were his and if they didn't already now they knew for sure. Mikey shuffled closer towards you wrapping the jacket more around you. His face was dusted with a light pink blush but they didn't need to see that so he choose to bury his head in the crook of your neck wrapping his arms around you waist.

DRAKEN

You were with the gang at some random party Izana decided to host. Everyone was having a great time dancing and laughing, making out and drinking. You were also having a wonderful time singing at the top of your lungs. The alcohol you had drank earlier provided a nice kind of buzz to the already exiting atmosphere. For the party you decided on wearing a short black mini skirt a sparkly silver top and black heels. To Draken you looked out of this world. Everything matched up perfectly, the skirt showed of your ass which was probably Drakens favourite part of your body, he could just stare at you for eternity and never get tired. And thats exactly what he did he kept a watchfull eye on you the whole night just to make sure some creep woudldn't try anything. Once some creep did try to hit on you thinking you didn't have a boyfriend Draken came and politely led you out of the house. "Thanks babe." you said getting up on your tip toes to kiss you taller boyfriend. "I think this is like the fifth guy that hit one tonight." you said chuckling. "Well I can't blame them, you look stunning." Draken complimented nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. He left feather light kisses while wrapping his arms around your waist. "I know how we'll solve this." he let go off you and took off his jacket. "Here." he draped the jacket gently over your shoulders. He let go off you and took a step back. Immediately when he saw you wearing his jacket Draken melted. Such a strong and large man was like putty when it came to you. He was obviously much taller and bigger than you and the jacket which fit him perfectly was oversized on you. Rosy blush crept up on his face. "How do I look?" you asked twirling around nuzzling into the fabric. Draken felt his heart swell at the sight of you. "Better than ever." he stepped close and held your waist before placing sweet kiss to your lips. "Come on let's go inside." you grabbed his hand and led him back inside. Now everyone would know you're his, especially with the words VICE PRESIDENT embroidered on the sleeve.

MITSUYA TAKASHI

Mitsuya had sown a lot of pieces of clothing tailored just for you. He loved seeing you happy while wearing clothing he put so much work and effort into making just right, for you. Currently you were in a train with your boyfriend going on a date. You wore a beautiful jacket that he tailored, but it was a little too hot since the train was crowded. So not wanting to boil alive you opted to take your jacket off. As you were sitting down you layed it gently across your lap. You'll be getting off in two stops anyway so what could happen especially with Mitsuya sitting next to you. A lot apparently because one stop before you were supposed to get off someone ran by you and snatched your jacket. You quickly realised what had happened and tried running after him but it was too late. You looked sadly back at your boyfriend. "Hey, it's no big deal. I'll make you another one." he comforted you. "Yeah, thanks Mitsuya." you said leading him off of the train. As you made your way up the stairs and into the open street you suddenly realised how bloody cold you were. The cold air sent shivers down your spine, it chilled you to the bone. Mistuya noticed you lightly shaking before he, like a true gentleman that he is, took off his jacket and wrapped it snug around you. You glanced up at your boyfriend nuzzling further into the soft fabric. Mitsuya felt like he could explore with adoration. You looked so pretty, he truly didn't deserve you. Mitsuya wrapped his amrs around you holding you close. His cheeks were red but his heart was full of love.

[carmenized-onions]

Don't Say It. | Closing Out

logline; just say it in every way but the one way that makes it weird.

[!!!] series history; did y'all notice the banner rebrands? tell me you think they look nice and good and cool or i'll. start crying.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. how is it more than 7 hours. my god.

portion; 14k was hoping we'd reenter our single digits era but we ball

possible allergies; two mentally ills battle it out (romantic).

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader almost certain there are gendered bits/pronouns but can't honestly completely remember.

(new!) kofi; I have one now! if you've enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!

moving into a new place literally in two days!! high stress. so thank you for waitin' as always pwease enjoy and pwease tell me what you think!

You take a good long breath, sitting on the counter in the bathroom. Right. Time is linear and you’re in New York again— Never left. Right. Carmen’s sitting across from you, it’s kind of a shock this floating sink counter hasn’t collapsed under the two of you yet. How long have you been here? Swapping stories took a long fucking time, and there’s still, disgustingly, a lot to unpack. 

“Any shoes left undropped?” You drum your hands against your knees, the question is as much for yourself as it is for him.

Carmen opts to open with a soft ball. “You called me Carmy?” Before you knew me, you called me Carmy?

“I called you a lot of things.”

“Like virgin Michelin Star chef?” He’s failing to hide the upturned corners of his mouth, when he says it. 

You snort and nod, “Like virgin Michelin Star chef, or Carmy, or Carm, or baby boy, baby bear, mister New York— Basically all Mikey’s, I think the only one I coined was Charmin.”

“Charmin?”

“Like the—” He finishes with you, “—Toilet paper bears.” and whether he should be or not, he cannot stop laughing, when you confess this. 

“I thought it was a good bit!” “Cause I’m a piece of shit?” “Bitch—Cause you clean up, and you’re a bear, and Carmen sounds like Charmin, and Charmin sounds like charming and I—”

You pause, cringing, parasocial relationship coming to a head now. When your best friend wants you to get with his hot talented brother living in the Big Apple, it’s hard not to fantasize about, alright? “...I found you very charming.”

God, it’s just far too easy for you to render him completely speechless. It’s really not fucking fair. Carmen looks like a deer in headlights, he looks how he did in your car, a month or so ago, when he bit the bullet and asked you out. Well, promised to ask you out. He swallows, no more glass in his throat, but it does feel a little scratchy, kinda like, like pop rocks?

Pop rocks, yeah. Sweet, salivating. “Do you still?”

You squint, like he’s a moron. He is. “Of course I do.” Cherry pop rocks. Yeah, that sort of spritz feeling, on the tongue, and the way it continues to simmer all the way down. “I don’t want you to stop being you, by the way, Carm.”

“Huh?” What’s that supposed to mean? Of course you want him to change, he sucks.

“I—” You’re quick to clarify, straightening your posture. “I think it’s great to— to do the work, and therapy and reading and self-care— That’s all— That’s very good, and you should do it— For you, not me, but I— One bad night is not how I’ll think of you— You’re— You’re not a bad person, is I guess all I’m trying to fuckin’ say.”

You’re sweet. Sweet but with depth, slowly developed, caramelized, tart. Maybe a fruity molasses.

Carmen swallows, it’s hard to digest the sweet. “I— I’m not a bad person, but I could be better.” Pomegranate molasses. It’s got an acidic kick. Sort of like balsamic.

“I could be better, too.” Could you? Please God, don’t try, he can’t compete. No, shit, hold on, stop pedestaling. “You kinda got my ass, with peoples’ princess.”

Carmen cringes, there’s the acid. “I should not have said—”

“I have a fucking saviour complex, Carm. And it’s just as bad for everyone else as it is for me.”

Bite, yet tender. You continue on. “I do need to work on that. And I should’ve explained more when we first met, it was just— You know… I know you know.” Medium rare, steak medallion— No— rectangle. 

Pomegranate molasses, thick—Nearly sorbet thick. Poured onto the plate, centered, perfect circle. Medium rare wagyu steak— A3, maybe; too much fat would ruin the composition. Rectangular, off center. Dust with cherry pop rocks. Bizarre, but it might actually be something. Bad, but something. Not tired or overdone, that’s for sure. Anything but dusty.

Carmen missed you for a lot of reasons this week, but it’s almost annoying how merely being in your presence for a few hours has given him more inspiration to work with than he has had in the last one-hundred and sixty-eight hours, without you. But who’s counting?

It’s easy to make things, when they’re for you. When they’re about you.

“I should’ve listened, when you were ready, but I got defensive and—I— I do that a lot, clearly, I just—” Carmen tries not to bite at his nails and fingers, because his therapist, Sara, said not to do that. What the fuck does she know? A lot, actually.

“That’s just kinda how— we’d do things. Like that’s how we—” Carmen frowns, memories dawning on him. “…I guess maybe we never really talked.”

You don’t need to ask who we is. His family didn’t particularly set Carmen up for success. And every figure after his family didn’t really lighten the load. There’s not much for you to say or do beyond, “I like talking to you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re allowed to still be mad at me.” Carmen reassures, he’s not sure why he feels the need to do so. “You can— You can tell me to go fuck myself.” 

You shake your head, shrugging. “You can tell me to go fuck myself.”

He shakes his head, immediately, squinting, like you’re a moron; you are. “I would never tell you to go fuck yourself.”

It’s a silent moment of exchanging hard stares and trying to glean something from the other. Once you gather your findings, you finally return to your era of speaking in sync again, with, “I don’t hate you.”

It's a hellish realization, that you thought it was possible, let alone certain, to hate you. He could cry again. “Why would you ever think I hate you?”

You raise your brows, because how could you not think Carmen hates you? “Because you said—”

“I didn’t mean a fucking word.”  He says it differently than he did before. Like it’s a final warning. He immediately recoils at his own voice and its aggression.

“I’m sorry.” Carmen scratches his nose, continuing for the both of you. What more can he say? He’s already said it a million times, so what’s one more? When you try to speak, he doesn’t let you. Because he knows you. He knows you’ll brush it off. “I don’t want you to forgive me, right now. I want to prove I earned it.”

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”

“Yeah, Sara said that, too. You’re both wrong.”

“Yeah, I don’t think your therapist can be wrong, in this scenario.”

“Please.” Carmen props his knee up on the counter, his hands, in some way, mimic a prayer. He holds eye contact, he thanks whoever is in charge that you’re holding it again, too. “Let me earn it.”

Carmen will learn that he doesn’t need to earn anything or prove anything to anyone eventually. He’ll need more than six therapy sessions crammed in during his lunch breaks, for that. But right now, he needs to prove this. Needs to earn you. For now, you'll give it to him. For now, you just nod. 

Carmen chews his bottom lip, he doesn’t want to say it but he has to. “When I said—” You failed Mikey. “—What I said— I didn’t mean it how I said it.”

You bring your legs up, criss crossing them. “How’d you mean it?” How else could he possibly mean it?

“I meant it like— Like— Of course he died.”

They’re Berzatto men, they’re doomed. “Nothing you could have done would have stopped him from dying— And I— It hurt cause it felt like— In—In that moment— In my head—” He puts a hand up, pausing to reassure, “Nothing you did. But I felt like I was ‘Round Two’ for you. Charity. I—”

Carmen swallows, looking down, can’t meet your eyes for the moment, but he points at you. “You didn’t fail Mikey— He failed to know he was worth saving.”

A wound closes up, a little bit, somewhere in your head and heart.  “I think in some ways, I was trying to make up for something—”

You’re quick to clarify, too. “But not cause you’re you— Cause I’m me.” Have to do it all. Have to fix it all. Have to save it all. “Like— I think I might have that edge of paranoia for like, like a long time, if not… forever?”

 You frown; what a bleak idea. “Fuck, I may need to go back to therapy, too.”

“You want Sara’s card?” “Sliding scale?” “Sliding scale.” “Is it weird to have the same therapist?” “Probably.” “I’ll look into it.”

You both laugh, the weighted blanket of tension over you both is finally lifting. Carmen’s capable of looking you in the eyes again. “You did literally everything someone could think of.”

You kiss your teeth, you could’ve done a couple more things. “I mean, location—”

“He never would’ve given it to you.” “That’s exactly it, though— I should’ve put my foot down more. I was never as strict as I was supposed to be.” “But if you were strict he wouldn’t let you help him.” “Sponsors are meant to be strict.” “Then he wouldn’t’ve let you be his sponsor.” “Then I shouldn’t have been his sponsor!” “Then he would’ve never joined the program!” “Well—” “It’s not your fucking fault!”

Carmen doesn’t hate you, Carmen doesn’t think you killed his brother. Heavy exhale of too many emotions and a touch of relief. But you can see yourself in his expression. You can see Richie in his expression. The guilt. The haunting. You swallow, “Not yours, either.”

“I could’ve called more.” “He wouldn’t have answered.” “I could’ve realized why.” “And how exactly could you have done that?” “...I dunno, could’ve— Could’ve been the guy, for him.” “Carmen you were the guy, for him.”

Carmen shakes his head. “You were the guy, for Mikey.”

“I— Okay—” You click your tongue, this is hard to explain. You shift on the sink counter, trying to get more comfortable. You won’t. It’s a fucking sink. “I was the guy, but the guy to another guy isn’t much— you—” You snap your fingers, pointing at him. “You’re not the guy, Carmen. Never will be.”

“Ouch.”

“No— You’re something much more important than the guy. You’re— You’re the, the cat.”

He can’t help but smile, confused. He’s so used to bear comparisons. “I’m the cat?”

“You’re—” You keep pointing at him, thinking the metaphor in your head through. “...The guy is— Is like the host of the house party. He keeps the jokes going, the room light, the drinks and food stocked— He talks people through panic attacks while they sit in the bathtub, he loses at beer pong on purpose to make the other team feel better, the guy makes everyone feel like they’re the center of the universe.”

“And the cat?”

“The cat is upstairs, locked in his room, because the cat will get all jittery if he’s around all that yelling and all those people. The cat doesn’t even like those people. And the guy doesn’t want his cat to go through that. But then, when the guy finally gets all jittery and can’t handle all those people himself—” You sigh, honestly stressed by your own metaphor, thinking of all the moments in your life you needed the cat and didn’t call.

“He’ll go upstairs, to his room, and the cat will be there, and he can talk to the cat— Because the cat likes him. And nothing will be solved, but it’ll still feel good and the cat will still think his guy’s perfect and wonderful even when the guy is just— just him— And the cat asks literally nothing of the guy— Unlike everyone else downstairs— and that’s exactly why the guy wants to give the cat everything over anyone else.”

God, you’ve been talking about cats and guys too much. “Not everyone needs a cat, but the guys that do, really do. And you’re… You’re the cat— Mikey’s and mine.”

Carmen can’t say I love you, because that would be an insane response. That would be weird and bad and too soon and stupid. But it’s the only thing he can think of. The only thing he can say besides that, is, “You’re very good to me.”

You’re not exclusively for Carmen, he knows that. You’re not made for him— You’re made for many things. But maybe you’re curated. The Bear wouldn’t exist without your advocacy. And it’s hard to believe, but there might’ve been even more broken shit at The Beef, if you hadn’t been there before Carmen got there. Mikey got to be your friend, before Carmen did. And you got to be Mikey’s friend, when Carmen didn’t. But you both kept him in mind, you told Mikey to text, you drew schematics for his restaurant, you said you’d talk to him. You thought he was charming. You still do. You’re Mikey’s pick, for Carmen. And it’s not like Mikey’s opinion matters that much, but it’s nice to have approval. Though he didn’t fucking ask for it.

“Such a cat response.” “Is that like being a Leo or some shit?” 

You both laugh. Ah, thank fuck, it’s you two, again. There’s a comfortable silence while you think for a second, before asking, “Can I add another thing to your non-negotiables?”

“Always.”

“I don’t want you to be different for me.” You think back to being in his kitchen, the way he tried to hold back, when you were around. “I get you, work you, home you— If you want me to be your fuckin’ mixologist, you’re gonna have to get comfortable working with me.”

“You still want to work for me?”

“I shook on it, didn’t I?”

He laughs through a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”

“Damn,” You snort, “Are you only with me for my skills?”

“No, I’m with you because you’re— You.” The kitchen needs you, The Bear needs you, Carmen needs you. He’s the cat, he doesn’t need anything more than you. He can work on his codependency issues in therapy, okay? “I— I like having you around.”

You readjust your posture again, it’s hard to get comfortable on a sink. “Well, you better get paid soon, then.”

“‘Bout that.” Boy came prepared. He rifles through the pockets of his black jeans, and pulls out a folded slip of paper. He does a yoga class worthy stretch to hand it to you, from across the sink. A paystub, from The Bear, to Carmen. Officially on fucking payroll.

Yeah, turns out, just a bad week, last week. Being in the red doesn’t last forever. Neither does being in the green. There are ebbs and flows. Next week will probably be shit, and yet the wheel still turns. Carmen also might’ve very well plugged in half of the numbers wrong, according to Sugar, when she eventually got to looking at it. But that’s neither here nor there. So he’s reactive. What’s new? Should’ve believed the you in his head, when she said there will be good and bad weeks. He’s still working on being the only voice in his head. But you’re a good replacement for the other guy, for now.

You stare at it, like an ancient scroll. It’s real. He’s really getting paid— Pretty decent too, he could finally buy some fucking furniture, with this. “Okay.” You look up from the slip to him. He looks like he’s on fucking Shark Tank, anxiously awaiting your approval. “And you’ll act like you?”

“I will act like me.” Even when he doesn’t want you to see it, Carmen will act like Carmen. 

And that’s all you could ask for, really. You’re about to approve the deal, but then you think again, frowning. “The Exec.”

“Ah.” Carmen shuts his eyes, embarrassed by his own brain. “I know.”

“So you thought about it?”

“I didn’t think about— It—” Carmen doubted his own conviction, because he doubts all of himself. But it really was not ever on the table, to give your number…That said— “I thought about loopholes.”

“Catfishing him?” You guess, and he affirms. “Catfishing him.” Hey, great minds think alike. Doesn’t make Carmen feel any less scummy, for considering abusing your likeness for sake of approval. 

“Did you go through with it?” 

It’s Carmen’s turn, to blink, slow to realize that you actually don’t know. “Richie didn’t tell you?” You still live in a world where Carmen isn’t completely batshit. 

You tilt your head, “Did Richie catfish him?”

“No, uhm—” He seems suddenly sheepish now. Can’t look you in the eyes, again. He nods and points to your pockets. “You got your phone?”

“Uh, yeah—” You pull it out, haven’t gotten any sudden creepshow texts, to your knowledge. “Should I be scared?”

Carmen shakes his head. “Nothin’ worse than what you’ve already seen.” He snaps his fingers at your phone, “Look up uh— I think it’s— Chicago Bear on Yankee Chef turf, or some shit.”

You have to take a moment, before typing, to just look at him with genuine pause. “...What?”

“Just do it.” “Did you kill someone?” “I do not have blood on my hands, the Tribune is just dramatic—” “The fucking Tribune?! Shut the fuck up, Carmy.”

Absolutely no way he’s in the Chicago Tribune.

Okay. Upon searching. Absolutely yes way he’s in the Chicago Tribune. Carmen’s trending on Twitter— Or rather, Chicago, The Bear, Bear, Carmy, Michelin Beef, Fuck the Yanks, and a million other keywords are trending— Local trending, but still trending. Chicago Tribune’s made an article archiving a handful of reaction tweets, summarizing whatever the fuck happened. Alright, this is taking too long, maybe you should just ask the man in front of you— “Oh my fucking God, there’s a video.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t watch—” Carmen is interrupted by his own voice coming through your phone. “—And what kind of fucking Chef doesn’t like black pepper? I’m white and overdone, but you’re an entire other goddamn beast—” “...That.”

It’s a screen recording of some patron’s Facebook Live at some New York restaurant David owns or whatever. Empire? That’s what the blurry signs in the video’s background seem to say. What’s his title at this point, anymore? Doesn’t matter.

It’s nice to see his blurry little face around ten to twenty feet from the camera get yelled at by a Carmen that is also many feet away, but his voice seems to be projecting throughout the whole restaurant; enough to be heard clearly through recording, anyways. “And it’d be enough to just be an asshole— But you’re a creep too— Never fuckin’ pray on my— my— bar staff, or I swear on my life—”

“Can’t make direct threats in New York, Cousin! Penal code!” You laugh when you hear Richie’s voice ringing out in the background. Thank God for whoever’s filming, because they pivot their phone to catch Richie, pretty much next to their table, calling out to Carmen. “It’s a fine!”

He looks tired but wired; they must’ve taken a pitstop here, before heading to the hotel. What a fun road trip finale. Richie is such a motherfucker for not telling you all of this first thing while you put on his cufflinks— This is not dirty details, this is front page shit! Literally! God, he buries the lead like it’s his fucking day job.

“Who gives a fuck about a fine? Everyone—” And back to Carmen. “This is David Fields, he’s the head of the head of the head, in their heads— He’s a fantastic chef, I don’t think he eats or sleeps or knows what another person’s hands feel like— He is fuckin’ brilliant at making the same three fuckin’ plates every fuckin’ day— With the most minute differences— And—And—And— He doesn’t even make them! He takes dishes from prozac riddled fucks like me, makes them worse and then puts his name on it! Unoriginal, a narcissist, and fucking bad at it!”

You don’t look up from your phone, eyes glued to the screen. “Holy fuck, Carmen.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” “Is this good marketing?” “Wait for it, I guess.” “...Are you actually on prozac?” “No. I kind of blacked out. Made a point though, right?” “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Sorry, miss. Could I—” …Fak? Guess he did third wheel on the road trip to New York. He grabs the streamer’s phone. There’s a ‘what the—fuckin— excuse me?’ from behind the camera as Fak pivots the recording to himself. 

“Hey World, I’m Neil, that’s my best friend Carmy the Bear, over there.”

“Jesus Christ.” You look up from your phone to Carm, who was at first embarrassed and is now just trying to hold a straight face, hand over his mouth. “I’m aware.” He repeats. 

You squint, thinking.“...Best friend?” “...I guess he is?” “That’s— Okay— I don’t— Alright, we’ll come back to that.” And return to your phone.

Fak continues, taking advantage of the sudden screen time. “He’s a really good Chef, knows his shit, if you ever want to see how he does it, please come eat— Dine— Dine with us at The Bear, we’re in Chicago— on North Orleans and Huron— You can— Can book with us at The Bear dot—”

“Don’t have the site yet.” Richie interrupts the impromptu ad, hovering over Fak’s shoulder, barely whispering. “Still The Beef.”

Neil nods and continues. “The Beef dot squarespace—”

“It’s Wix.” “It’s fucking Wix?” “Your problem isn’t with the lack of a domain?”

“It’s Google Sites, actually.” You correct for no one, really, looking up from your phone to Carmen, again. “I made him change it so it wouldn’t have that ugly freemium bar.” 

Carmen snorts, shaking his head. Of course you did. “D’you design it?”

You let out a loud, “Ha!” before turning back down to the screen. “I think web design might be the one trade I can’t do.” But you’re willing to learn, if he needs.

Ah, the videographer managed to foist her phone back, returning to catch the very end of the Carmen Show. And it’s a wonderful finale, from Carm.

“—Fuck your two elements, fuck your face— Fuck everything about you— I cannot believe we gave you service— Let alone our best— For a guy in hospitality, you have no fucking right treating my host and somme like that. Fuck you—”

“Fuck you—” Finally a response from David, though it’s quickly interrupted, as Carmen finally starts to back away, not wanting a genuine fight if he doesn’t have to do it, but he certainly wants the last word. “No, fuck you—”

“Fuck you.” “—Chef— Stay in your fucking city— Stay in your fucking city— New Yorks great! Stay in it! We don't play in Chicago— Fuck you!”

Carmen comes back to his road trip squad, he notices the woman recording, and walks up to the camera. For a second, you genuinely think he’s going to square up with her— You’re pretty sure he at least thought about it. “Is she recording?”

“Streaming.” Answers Fak. “It’s the new thing.”

 Carmy opts to use his words, possibly because he could maybe get arrested. “Sorry, sorry— I just want to make it clear—”

He gestures to the fucker in the background, bouncers seems to be approaching. Carmen keeps going, face red but calming down, chasing his own breath. “This man worked— and works with wonderful Chefs who I learned a lot under— And— And— I have all the respect for them, and always will— But-But— when it comes to David Fields specifically—”

Your cherry and lamb dish was perfect. David’s palate is just not worth appealing to. Carmen won’t make that mistake again.

“—What he serves is consistently vapid, dusty, and dead on arrival— like his heart— And—And— When you pay him, dine with him, work with him, you are lining the pockets of some fuckin’ creep that pulls rank on honest cooks and servers. So. Decide if you want that. And uhm— Uh— Tip your servers. Don’t ask for their numbers— Like he does. Be normal. Thank you.”

“Carmen Berzatto, folks! Come— Come to The Bear!” Yells out Neil, as security finally seems to be coming for the Chicagoans.

Richie grabs Fak by the back of his coat, knowing when to bounce, shouting, “No legal names! Godssake— This has been Carmichael Burrowski, folks! Don’t call no one—!”

The screen recording ends, not long after that. You’re going to need maybe a… fifty minute nap, to process that. Maybe, somehow, this is good publicity— Maybe in some way, this is putting The Bear on the center stage. But one thing is fact, Carmen completely abandoned the idea of keeping appearances and getting a star through kissing ass. He completely abandoned the idea of being appealing to the man in his head. 

And he did that for you— And Richie— Which, honestly, makes it mean even more. Carmen’s a good boss. Not always. Definitely not always. But when it fucking counts, he is. Carmen's a good man. A good friend. A good not-quite boyfriend. Ugh, boyfriend? What kind of word is ‘boyfriend’? That's fucked.

You put your phone away, quietly nodding and thinking, not looking at Carmen. You shrug, attempting to be nonchalant. “Contract and I’ll be your mixologist.”

“Yeah?” There’s such a brightness, to the way Carmen asks. Like a spritz. “Okay. I’ll— I’ll send you a Docusign.” Aperol spritz. There’s more to it, than that though. 

You’re so zoned out, looking at the sinks instead of Carmen, he starts to get worried. He just got eye contact back, come on. Was the yelling too much in the video? He was loud and mean. He always is. He told you not to watch. 

“Tony?” What kind of bitters suit him? A slice of grapefruit might be nice. Bright but acquired.

“Are you good?”

“Wha—” You shake your head out of it, turning your gaze to Carmen. He jumped off the counter to stand by you. His hand hovers by your head— He considers grazing your hair, and chickens out. But he can’t put it down.  “Sorry, was— I was uh— Just thinking of what we could put on a cocktail menu, that’s all.” Yeah, that’s all.

“Don’t work on it, without me.” It’s with a, dare you say, panicked quickness, that he requests this. “Cocktail menu, coffee menu, we should— Should do R and D, together.”

“Yeah, f’sure.” Fucking Chefs, so particular about their menus. “I think it’d be good to uhm— Build it around the main menu, anyways. Sorta match stuff up.” Thankfully, you like particular.

He really needs to not be standing this close, though. Your brain keeps zoning in and out— It’s really not the time to be feeling any sort of type of way about Carmen cursing out that fucking chef and going to therapy for himself and you and he smells nice and he’s reading books and he worked bar all night with you and he looks so nice in bartender black in lieu of his Chef whites and he is trying so hard and— And you cannot say you love him because that would be weird. That would be weird and bad and too soon and stupid. 

And you can’t forgive him either— Well, not aloud, because Carmen wants to prove that he’s done the work— Wants to prove that he’s going to keep doing the work. He’s rendered you with nearly zero options here, to show your affection. 

“Yeah, that’s— That’d be good. I was thinkin’ we’d put your station by Marcus.” Why is he still talking about work? He’s so stupid. He’s wonderful. This is the worst. This is hell. “Coffee machine’s already there, and you’ll tend to share a lot of elements, anyway— I think.”

You shift your butt on the counter, turning to face him head on, he’s just slightly between your knees as your legs dangle off the counter. “Carmen.”

“Yeah?” “I’m going to kiss you.” “Yeah, okay.”

Light, nervous, sweet, lifting, soft— A delicate kick to it. Pink peppercorn bitters. That’s it.

Aperol— Vibrantly orange liqueur, derived from bitter rhubarb. It’s an acquired taste. Some say it’s citrusy and herbal, others say it tastes like cough syrup. Either way, it’s awakening. Then prosecco. A splash of soda— Lemon-lime would be best. Aperol spritz. It’s an Italian cocktail. It sparkles. Everything in it fizzes, almost competing with each other. It’s meant to be enjoyed before dinner. It’s refreshing. Pink peppercorns and grapefruit would only add to that brightness, that light. It’s not for everyone, but it is everything to some. That’s Carmen. That’s your Carmen. Oh, maybe a syrup on the rim?

You try to be delicate, the way you put the palm of your hand on the back of his head and pull him in, but it’s just not possible. It’s the first time in a fucking month you’ve initiated— It's been one-hundred and sixty-eight hours since you've seen his face, let alone touched it— It’s just not possible to be kind.

Thankfully, based on the way he’s leaning you back on the counter, hands on your waist, it doesn’t seem like Carmen wants kind. There's a sigh of relief, to just kiss you. He’s fine with the touch of hair pulling, on your part— Possibly more than fine. Possibly way more than fine. The faint whining and pulling your hips to his seem to indicate it’s a lot fucking more than fine.

It would be weird and bad and stupid and too soon to say I love you, but you can mouth the words against him and he can’t tell what you’re wording but at least you know. It’s funny that he can do the same to you, and despite knowing the trick, you can’t tell either. 

Carmen pulls back, just a centimeter, or two. He wants to say something. He’s opening his mouth to say something. He's all dopey and half-lidded. Man, he’s pretty. He knows that right? Yeah, he knows that. “You’re so pretty.” You tell him anyway, speaking into his half open mouth. 

Whatever thought he had, it’s dead now.“—Jesus fucking Christ.” He moves his hands to hold your face. It’s nice. It’s nice to get peppered with kisses— Yeah, pink pepper fits perfectly with him. 

Carm’s voice is heavier now. Maybe from the lack of oxygen. He’s fighting to revive his brain. He’s so serious, when he firmly kisses you, forehead against yours, lips still grazing, saying, “I’m not a fucking virgin.”

You laugh way too fucking hard for his ego. Your hands untangle from his hair, but your arms continue to rest on his shoulders. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He’s still amped, too bad you’re you, and you have to ruin the mood to poke at him.

“That a recent development?” “Shut the fuck up—” “I’m just wondering, if he was accurate at the time—” “Why are you doing this to me?” “Did you have a tantric affair in Denmark, the people wanna know!” “I— There was no time, alright? It got away from me—” “Remember when you had your first kind of girlfriend like a month and a week ago?” “It was a recent development, okay?” “Darn. Sorry I was late.”

He pauses the banter to just stare at you, take in your features, take in that you’re here and real and half underneath him. “Not forgiven.” You should’ve shown up sooner. You should’ve injected yourself so completely in Carmen’s life eons ago, and made yourself intrinsically impossible to remove. Absolutely not forgiven, for being late.

“Yeah?” Your eyes upturn, deeply amused. Carmen really is the baby brother. Entitled, bratty, cute. You’re planning to say something coy, something playful like ‘Ohoho, how do I earn your forgiveness?’ But you remember something Carmen said, when he was summarizing his Friday night for you— And for Carmen, what you opt to say is so much worse than hot banter, for his brain. 

“I don’t think your mouth tastes bad.” It’s your turn to take in his face and all its features. “I think it’s nice. It’s like the only way I can try cigarettes without getting a headache.”

“I wanna fly you to Paris.” It’s so quick, from Carmen. Choked quick— Like he fought to hold it down but you’ve just opened the Pandora’s box that is his mouth. He keeps going. Your surprised face firmly smushed in his hands.  

“I’ve wanted to take you to Paris since I asked you to run bar— I’ve— I’ve wanted to take you to Paris since you washed my hair— I—I—” Too much affection to contain in words, he has to kiss you, and then he has to keep going, and then kiss you between the ‘ands’, and then keep going. Like a shot and a chaser and a shot and a chaser and a—

“I want you to be permanent and carved in my tables and I want you to wear my jackets and I want you in my kitchen and in my menu and in every dumb fucking conversation I have at Christmas tellin’ family what the fuck I’m doing— I want you in every sentence.”

It’s not ‘I love you’. Because saying I love you would be weird and bad and stupid and too soon. But it might very well be more than that. Trying to avoid saying it might be forcing you both to say something that means more than that.

It’s hard to generate a response as poignant as that. Especially because your cognitive abilities seem to have gone completely offline. Your brain is telling you to kill the moment so you don’t have to face the feeling, telling you to say something stupid like, ‘Why Paris?’, because if you don't, you might say it. But you can’t. You’re totally speechless. 

Eventually, you manage to choke out, “I would like that.”

“Yeah?” “Yeah.”

“Good.” Ah, a smile from Carmen with teeth. What a rare gift you’ve been bestowed. He tries to celebrate this occasion with another kiss that will inevitably lead to a million more but when he goes for his classic move of sticking his head in the crook of your neck to bite you like a cannibal— You get the chance to look somewhere other than Carmen’s face, and realize you are both still very much so in a fucking bathroom at a fucking wedding in New York. 

“Fak is still outside, I’m pretty sure.”

Carmen groans, there’s no way you’re doing this to him again, come on, neither of you have to go this time, you have all the time in the world, in this bathroom. Time isn’t real here. That’s how bathrooms work. “He’s not.”

“Carmy’s right, I’m not.” Says definitely totally not Fak, behind the door. “You guys kissin’ yet?”

“Christ.” You put a hand on Carm’s chest, pushing him back from you as you push yourself up with your other hand. “Mood dead.”

“No—” He grabs your wrist, holding your hand in place against him. “Mood not dead— Mood present and alive—”

There’s some fumbling behind the door. “Wait— Are they?” Oh, so Richie’s here, too? Good. That’s great. “Ain’t no fuckin’ way— Cousin, be a gentleman—”

Carmen leans over and all but screams into your shoulder. “I am being a fuckin’ gentleman, Richard!”

You kiss your teeth, shaking your head, shrugging. “Yeah, it’s dead.” Them’s the breaks. 

A slow, heavy, arduous exhale, from Carmen, coming up to lean his forehead to yours for a second. Enjoying the liminal space before it’s permanently ripped out of your hands. “I hate my family.”

You smile, pressing your forehead firmer against his, nuzzling noses. “You love your family.”

“I love my family.” He sighs. He gives you one last kiss, soft, sweet, perfect. “Thank you for taking care of them.” 

You shrug. “They’re mine, too.”

God, you’re so quick and mind-bending, he has to go for another kiss, come the fuck on— “Mood’s dead.” You laugh, so cruel, jumping off the counter, maneuvering past Carmen, but you’re sweet— Cruel but sweet— Carefully switching his hold on your wrist to holding your hand, dragging him with you. 

You might be leaving the bathroom together, but Carmen’s pretty sure a part of him is going to stay there, like a ghost of a feeling, for the rest of time.

“Okay— Is everyone waiting to piss?” Is your first question, for the crowd awaiting you and Carmy outside the bathroom. Not strangers, though—Well, mostly not strangers. Richie, Syd, Fak, some guy that looks like Fak. There’s no way they all need to piss, there were three other bathrooms available, it's not like you were hogging. “Is fuckin’ anyone runnin’ bar right now?”

“Marcus is.” Syd answers, hurriedly, as she runs up on you, immediately enveloping you— Practically an attack. It’s not in her nature to hug, but you’ve forced her hand here. Carmen hasn’t even exited the doorway behind you yet before you’re stumbling back into him from the force of her. 

“Squ—”

The words come out of her like a flood, no spacing between the words. “I’m-sorry-I—  We-finished-serving-and-listened-in-on-everything-super-invasive-couldn’t-help-it— You should’ve called me.”

This— These motherfuckers. Oh well, saves you the trip to Denny’s. And frankly, you would hate to re-explain all that. You return the hug with your free hand, the other one still in Carmen’s. You put your chin on her shoulder. “I know.”

There were so many times where you could’ve just gone upstairs. So many times you could’ve just called your old cat. Should’ve just called Syd. She would have been there. Maybe that’s exactly why you didn’t call. 

“I should’ve called you.” Maybe that’s exactly why Syd never called her guy, when she needed you, too. 

“Well,” You pull her back by her shoulders, “We will next time.”

You can’t let the moment stay sincere for long though, shit-eating grin growing on your face, “You’d give up a star for me?” Nuzzling your face into Syd’s cheek as she desperately tries to get away from you now— Oh how the tables turn.

“Get fucked—” “You love me— I’m all you got, Syd? Woww—” “After my dad I said! After my dad!” “A single widdle tear from me isn’t worth a star?” “It was not widdle— Little— Fuck—”

“This is cute princesses but everyone get the fuck out of the way before I clog an artery.” Richie unnecessarily shoves his way between the Faks to get to you. 

You release Syd to face the man, pensive, waiting for a slap, honestly. Richie just looks at you, now that he’s in front of you he’s dumbfounded, awkward. He knows he wants to say something or wants you to say something but neither of you know what that is. What it should be.

Before he can figure it out, you do. “I should’ve told you.” Besides your therapist, Carmen is the only person you told about the phone call— Well, intentionally, that is. 

That doesn’t really seem to be the thing he cares about. He’s not going to slap you, and you don’t need to grovel. “Am I dead, to you?”

Your brows furrow, for a second. “Wha—”

Richie grabs your free hand, pressing it to his neck. “Check my pulse, am I dead, t’you?”

“First of all, wrong placement.” You have to wiggle your hand out of his grip to take his pulse correctly. “It’s under the chin, align it with your eye—”

“Do I have one?” “Yes, Richie, you have a pulse.” “So I’m not dead?” “You’re not dead—” “Then call me.”

When your breath hitches, he continues. “I’m not a ghost. I’m here. When shit happens, you call me.”

“I know.” Is the only thing you can say without your voice cracking. “I will call next time.”

“You will fucking call, next time.” Richie grabs your face, smushed in his hands. “And you’ll answer my calls, next time.” He forces you to nod— Not that you wouldn’t, but wants to make sure. “Am I heard?”

“You're heard.”

Richie can see over your head, so he barks at Carmen, who’s very innocently behind you, still holding your hand. “Get your weird little hands off my Chip, you perv—”

“I don’t have weird little hands—” 

Syd pipes in, squinting. “Why is that the thing you refute—”

“Why does God let these moments happen to me?” You grumble, words muffled with your face still compacted by Richie’s hands. 

“I think it’s beautiful, actually.” Says some guy that looks like Fak. You just stare at him with your partially forced closed eyes. “Just the vibes, so— like— tender.”

“Who the fuck is this guy?” You deadpan, pointing at Other Fak. “Has this guy just learned shit I haven’t even told my own father?”

“We definitely just got here.” Lies Fak, next to Other Fak. He continues, “We didn’t hear anything about the really sad way you both actually did attend the funeral but didn’t—”

Other Fak astutely interrupts to add, sniffing. “But if we did it’d be like, like really meaningful that you both like, did that.” Is he tearing up? Richie needs to check your pulse, are you dying?

“Everyone please back the fuck up?” Carmen sighs, behind you, then beside you, letting go of your hand to put it on your shoulder. “Like maybe give two solitary fuckin’ seconds?”

There’s a stuttering of apologies as everyone realizes yeah, maybe a bit much to immediately jump you. Richie drops your face, everyone takes a step back.

You keep staring at Other Fak. Squinting, you point to him. “Ted?” Guy who they called instead of you?

He nods, “Hi—”

“No.” You wave your hand in front of his face, cutting him off. You turn to Carmen, just shaking your head plainly. “No.”

“Heard.”

“Y’know how going to a different barber is like cheating—?”

“No, like I got it—”

“This is like times a thousand—”

“I am hearing the note—”

“Fak can— Neil can fix shit, I took his spot, it’s fair— Outsourcing someone though—?”

“Won’t do it again.”

“No, you won’t.”

“It was— Should I have called you back in?”

“No, you should have had a broken light until we talked it out or let it be broken for the rest of your life.” There is not much you could ever find yourself getting genuinely jealous about— This, however, is a knife to the heart. Another handyman is a child out of wedlock, practically.

“Heard.”

“I spent way too long stalking you.” Interrupts Syd, she’s looking at her phone, a jumble of aggravated misspelled texts coming from the work group chat. “Fuck, I’ve gotta help Tina with clean up— We’ll—” She sticks a hand out, you reach out and hold it, for a moment. “You’re still— We’re still sharing, right?”

You tilt your head, confused, oh— “I’m still gonna sleep in our room, Syd. You weird pervert.”

Syd lets go of your hand, shaking her own hands around her head, talking just as fast as she speed walks away to the kitchen. “I am not a weird pervert, I’m sexually normal, don’t be weird, goodbye! Love you, fuck you, see you later!”

Richie claps his hands, “We’re closing out, so I’ve gotta go pick up vases or some shit— Faks, c’mon—”

“Y’know we’re just regular guests, right?” Says Ted. They let Fak come on the road trip despite not doing a job? Medals of Valor need to be doled out.

“Pbbt, come the fuck on, here boy.” Richie starts to walk off, and the whistling is condescending, but they listen anyway. Rich looks over his shoulder, snapping his fingers at Carmen. “Probationary forgiveness.”

Carmen nods, “Thank you, Chef.”

“Dee-Dee’s here, by the way.”

Carmen’s relaxed posture immediately pulls into a taught physique, he’s considering chasing Richie to get more details. “Isn’t Sug here, too?”

“Yessir!”

“Have they—” “They got grouped at the same table. Unc and Stevie have been keepin’ the peace.” “How’s that going?”

“Your guess is as good as mine!” And with that Richie fades into the crowd of straggling guests and clean up crews. 

You don’t know much about Donna, which was a very intentional choice on Mikey’s part. And that kinda tells you all you need to know. You turn to Carmen, pensive. “You wanna go find out?”

He itches at his collar, thinking. “I think if I say I don’t, I’m a bad son.”

“You didn’t ask to be her son.”

“Oh, fuck, okay.” He stumbles for a second, you immediately cover your mouth. 

“Sorry! I just—” Inside thought got outside. “I just meant— That was a lot. It’s just like, I dunno, you can’t be bad at something you never opted in for, y’know?”

“No, yeah, that— That’s kind of… a good thought.” He nods, looking at the ground, swallowing the words. “I— I should be a good brother—and—and Uncle, at least. Say hi to Nat.”

You don’t start walking until he starts walking, intent to follow his lead. You’ll stroll casually, until they crop up, making no deliberate effort to find them. You’re both silently hoping you don't. Carmen brings his head back up to you. “You ever meet Mom—? Donna?”

You shake your head, “No, that was kinda one of our few red lines. For Mikey and me. He’d like—” You gesture with your hands as you explain. “He’d talk about her, and I saw like… photos of them from babyhood, but I never met her or heard details— Never like, came over to the house. It was just kinda like a silent agreement. Hard for him and hard for me with the whole— Uh—”

“Drinking thing.”

You nod. “It’s uh— I’m not easily triggered anymore, though, so I think I’m fine.”

Carmen sniffs, scratching his nose. “Well, if you end up not being fine, we can not— Like not talk to her.”

He’s sweet, he’s smart, he’s the cat. You nod. “You don’t have to talk to her either, y’know. Could just text Nat—” “She’s right there.”

You whip your head up in tandem with him saying, “Don’t look fas— Fuck.”

You put the back of your hand on Carm’s chest, you both stop walking. “That’s Dee-Dee?”

“Yeah, with the—the leopard print belt and the floral dress.” Carmen’s been growing meeker with each step. You’d think his biggest fear is clashing patterns. This is not the same bear in the Chicago Tribune. “Why, you— You do know her?”

“She looks fuckin’ familiar…” You kiss your teeth, trying to roll back in your memory— Come on, you don’t forget shit, where is she from? You’ve seen photos but those were blurry and she was so much younger. You remember this version of Donna, you remember her from somewhere.

“Fuckin’ — Something with Pete— I saw her with Pete— Nat’s husband—” You point to him, across from Donna, at the table. “Him, yeah.”

“Just them?” Carmen gently pulls your arm down, you’ve gotta remember your manners.

“Yeah, I was— Oh, I was—” You squint. “Did Donna come to your opening?”

“No, she was invited, but she didn’t show.”

“Okay— So, she did, actually.” “Huh—?”

“She was— She was outside, when you were in the walk-in.” You nod to yourself, still thinking through the memory. “Yeah, she was outside— I thought Pete was like her son— It looked like they were fighting or crying so I just kinda— Kinda let it be. You were locked in a fucking freezer so I chose my battles.”

“Oh.” Carmen nods, trying to make it seem normal in his head. It’s not. And he can’t seem to force it. “He definitely didn’t tell Nat.” Because Nat would’ve told him.

You hum, rocking on your heels. “Yeah there's no chance we're going to go say hi now, is there?”

“Yeah, that might be best.”

You fold your lips in a line, still staring at Donna, she looks normal, which makes it feel even less normal. Way too much to unpack, if you go over there. Instead, you’ll stand here in the middle of the banquet hall, and unpack the carry-on luggage, so to speak. “Christmas is in a week.”

It’s a freight train of realization, Carmen drags his hand down his face. “Fuck me.”

“I know.”

“I have to go, don’t I?”

You frown, turning your head to him, not wanting to say what you’re going to say. “Do you think she’ll plan anything?” First Christmas without Mikey. Will she have the willpower to plan something, like she usually does?

“Oh, fuck me.”

“I know.”

Carmen holds his hand over his mouth, words somewhat muffled. “I’ll ask Nat, see what she’s doing. Baby’s first Christmas, or whatever. That’s a thing, right?”

“Baby’s do traditionally experience time, yeah.” “You n’ that smart mou—”

Despite staring at their table, the two of you did not notice Natalie approaching you, baby Michaela swaddled in her arms. “Oh my God, I haven’t seen normal human beings that aren’t screaming or shitting constantly in so long— Please— Say something normal and fun.”

You pucker your lips, trying to come up with something. “Ah— Fuck, I can’t think of anything— Oh fuck, sorry I said fuck— God— I’m just gonna stop talking.”

Nat lifts her hand up for a moment to wave you off before re-supporting her baby. “No! No, don’t! Say fuck so much. Say it all the time. She can’t understand, she doesn’t care. I wish I was her.”

“Will do.” You just nod, holding a hand up to Michaela, waving. She grabs one of your fingers, holding on tight. You can’t help but coo. “Hey, baby! Have you been fuckin’ with your mom’s sleep schedule? Awe, yes you have! Yes you have!”

Nat laughs and hums, “Richie told me you used to babysit Eva.” 

“He’s exaggerating.” You leave your hand with Michaela, but look up to Nat. “There were just some weekends he was working and daycare wasn’t running so I’d take her around the city for a couple hours— More like playdates than actual babysitting.”

“That just sounds like you’re a fun babysitter.” Carmen rebukes, Nat nods. 

“I’m good when you only need a second.” You sigh, half taking the compliment. You glance over Nat’s fatigued face. “You need a second?”

“Yes, fuck, could you?” In the same breath, she’s handing you baby Michaela. “She has in fact been fucking with mommy’s sleep schedule— And no one tells you— ‘mommy strength’ or whatever, needs to be developed— My lats— I think they’re lats? Are insane now. Just from holding her!”

You bounce the baby in your arms, sidling her on your hip. She’s a grabber, that’s for sure. Grabbing your hair, your top, Mikey’s chip— No longer tucked under your clothes. You let her. Well— Not the hair— She could cut off her circulation— Relax, EMS. You’re off duty. “How’s it going with—”

Nat knows what you’re asking before you finish the question. “Better than normal, which makes it feel worse. Does that make sense?”

You nod, “Completely and utterly.”

Carmen’s staring at Pete. He’s not typically a snitch but this is his sister, “Did Pete tell you—?”

“That mom was there on our fucking opening and he told her we were having a baby? Yes, about five minutes before she sat down.” Nat says it with a perfectly practiced smile and a simmering anger.

Your hands slip just slightly, you readjust your grip on Mickey. You and Carmen speak together, “He what?” 

Nat doesn't mean to ignore your both but she does, “How'd you find out?”

“I just told him.” You pipe up, guilt covers your face. “I saw them when I came that night. Sorry, I didn't realize that was your mom— Or husband, for that matter.”

Sug shakes her head, waving off the apology. “Not your fault, his.”

“Yeah.” Carmen nods, “Back to that, by the way?”

“Yeah, he realized it was kind of a hard lie to uphold— Because mom sucks at acting surprised.” She sighs, “She’s taking it well publicly but I’m expecting a full blown meltdown in the bathroom of which I can’t escape, so. Beautiful wedding.”

“Yeah, those are kind of unavoidable.” You just had one yourself. “Fingers crossed you make it out alive?”

“Oh, I’m making it the fuck out, it’s her you should pray for.”

You have to respect the power in that. “Damn.”

“I didn’t ask to be her daughter! If she hands it to me I’m handing it fucking back—” Nat’s brain is always running like a faucet, she cuts off her own thoughts with a new one. “Christmas is in a week.”

“We know.”

“Fuck me.” She sighs so hard it blows strands of hair out of her face. “What the fuck are we gonna do, Carmy?”

“Was gonna ask you.” Carm’s distracting himself with Michaela, she reaches for his hand, she doesn’t grab a finger, she traces his tattoos. God, babies are cute sometimes. “Can we figure it out later?”

“Yeah, like everything else we do, I guess.” Sug groans. But she just as equally doesn’t want to think about it as him. And honestly, she’s just happy to see him acting like a fucking uncle for once.  “Tony, will I see you at work on Monday? You’re onboarding, right?”

You don’t notice the way Carmen’s face stones up, like a secret has been revealed. He’s been preparing for you to say yes. He’s got that Docusign in his inbox, ready to send. Had Nat budget you in. But you don’t seem to be upset about it— Or maybe you just didn’t catch that Carmen selfishly was hoping you’d come right back to him. Maybe it’s just that you don’t think it’s selfish.

“Oh— Uh, yeah, I guess you will.” Michaela starts to smack you for not giving her attention for more than seven seconds. You turn your head to her, bouncing her again, “Pbbt—Pbbbt— Mat leave over?”

“Gonna need to be.” Nat laughs when she says it, like you’re both on some sort of inside joke. Yeah, The Bear’s kind of a nightmare, of course Nat’s always needed. You laugh back, though there wasn’t really a joke anywhere in there.

“Make sure you get your rest.” Sug scoops Michaela out of your arms, rejuvenated from her second of peace. “Your boss is kind of an ass.”

Unfair drive-by, Carmen waves a hand like a white flag, “Alright—”

“I know, I like him anyways.” “Gross.” “I know, it sucks.”

“Okay, okay,” It’s way too obvious how happy Nat is that her brother has someone. “Both of you get the fuck out of here before she sees you, I told her you’d be too busy in the kitchen to say hi.”

She knows her brother, and Carmen’s grateful for it, but, “Are you sure? I can—” 

“I love you, Bear.” Nat gives him a kiss on the cheek, and you a quick hug. “But fucking run, seriously.”

Carmen nods, “Heard. Love you, Bear.”

You quickly dash off together, blending into crowds to go unnoticed. Mumbling plans out as you sprint. “I’ve gotta help Marcus close out the bar.”

“I’ve gotta pack up our equipment.” “You’re on the fifth floor too, right?” “Yeah, you’re rooming with Syd?” “Yeah, you and Richie?”

“I got my own room.” “Okay, rich boy.” “I— It’s a fuckin’ Holiday Inn, it’s not that bad—” “Oooh, Charmin gets his first paycheck suddenly he’s all that—” “You wanna come up to my room or not?”

“Oh?” You practically skirt on your heels when you suddenly stop walking, “He’s bold now—”

“I— That’s not— Like we—” He can’t dig himself out of this one, and his darting eyeline is giving him away. “You told Syd you’d still sleep in your room— I just meant like— Like we could— hang out.”

“We could hang out?” “Stop—” “I’d love to hang out, dude.” “We can watch a movie or somethin’—”

You gasp, thought occurring to you. “Yeah, let’s watch a movie. I wanna watch a movie.”

“I don’t like the look that just happened in your eyes.” 

“Yes, you do.” Your turn to smush Carmen’s face in your hands, kissing him with a comical, all too wet, and in no way seductive muah—

Which somehow just makes it all the more entrancing, for him.  “Yes, I do.”

You smile, letting him go, splitting off from Carmy in favour of your bar. “I’ll meet you in the lobby, go be a good boss.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“How are they not seeing him fuck up the soup— That— A whole pot—” “You’re literally saying exactly what Remy is saying right now—” “I— Good. I’m still mad about the five star thing.”

Carmen likes Ratatouille. Likes it enough to nitpick. He relates to the weird rat with a complex family dynamic and having a brother that means well but fucks with him so much. He relates to the no credit, the starving, the death and desire of feeding the ego, Carmen relates to feeling like a freak in his own kitchen. 

It is weird to feel seen by a rat. 

But it’s nice to have you in his room, in his bed, watching some dinky little red-head try to survive in a French kitchen. It’s nice to occasionally watch you instead, out of the corner of his eye. He thought of roughly… fourteen more recipes since leaving the bathroom with you? Who would’ve thought that watching someone use a makeup cleansing balm would be inspiring?

What? It melted beautifully. Or maybe you’re just beautiful? Whatever. You emulsified it in your hands. Emulsion? Coconut emulsion would be interesting; very similar creme texture. On top of a souffle? Delicate. But it still needs zip. The glitter from your eyeshadow makes him think of zesting. Lemon zest. Needs more scent, though. Oh, maybe Kaffir limes. That’s a weird dish. That’s never gonna work. He has to get better at subtracting around you. 

He’s doing pretty good at not saying I love you, though, so, that’s something. 

“The houndstooth pants are cute.” You hum, as Linguini finally kisses Collette— Though by a rat’s volition. A win is a win. You lean into Carmen’s side, watching the movie pirated on his laptop, because hotel tv pay-per-view was so overpriced for no reason. “Oh, fuck, what’s my uniform gonna be?”

“Chef whites, no?” His arm is around your shoulder, it’s nice. “I can get you a jacket—”

“Well, your servers wear black— And I’m gonna be like, like both right?” You turn your head to him. Bad idea. He’s still very pretty, if not prettier in pajamas. “Like, making drinks in the back and then acting as somme out front. So all black?”

“Hm.” Carmen tries not to frown. Tries not to see you wearing black as you being on the other team. “I guess.”

“Richie’s not getting me in a fuckin’ button up, though.” You don’t notice his expression’s minute faltering, crossing your arms, thinking. “Sleeveless black turtleneck? Maybe black palazzo pants, could do what fuckin— Linguini’s doin—”

You point at the screen. “The bright red converse? Could do all black and then bright blue converse? Would that be cute or is that deeply unprofessional?”

Carmen tilts his head back and forth, trying to let you down easy, “I wouldn’t call it deeply unpr—”

“Heard. Okay, maybe like— Like a red bottom heel—” You kick your foot up in the air, for no real reason. A shoe isn’t suddenly going to appear on it for display. “Like not actual ones, duh— Like a black boot and I paint the sole blue—” 

“What’s with you and blue?” He's deeply amused, or maybe that's just Carmen's constant state, right now, twirling his fingers through your hair without a care in the world.

“It’s like, Bear colours. You do blue. Aprons, baskets— I guess I’m thinking of The Beef, but like, your lighting is kinda blue.” You shrug. “I wanna match.”

He nods, eyes on the movie, thinking far too much— Well, for the average person. For Carmy it’s a perfectly normal amount of thinking. “All black, blue sole, blue earrings, maybe? White apron for when you’re in the back?” 

Please say yes to the white apron. Please say yes to his team. He'll get your initials monogrammed and everything.

“Yeah, that’s a cute look. As long as it’s easy to take off.” You hum. “Oh, y’know, Richie wanted to—” 

Speak of the Devil, and he shall call you for the fifth fucking time. “Fuckin— Pause it, hold on—”

Carmen pauses the wonderful rat chef in tandem with you answering the phone with, “I’m not fuckin’ comin’ to pool, Cousin!”

In one ear, out the other. “Fuck you! When are you getting here?” 

“I am not getting out of bed to play pool— A game I have not played— With a bunch of fuckin—”

“If you’re not down here in five minutes, Chip, on God—” “I’m gonna fuckin’ hang up again you motherfucker—” “And what? You’ll just answer again, won’t you?”

Richie’s tone gives him away. He’s giggling, bubbly, absolutely tanked on dirty shirleys. But there’s a very genuine joy to it. You’ve answered his stupid meaningless calls every time, the last four times, despite knowing they are in fact, stupid and meaningless. And that is rife with meaning. 

You sigh, but you’re smiling. “Yeah. I’ll answer.”

“Good.” You can hear his smile mirrored through the phone. “Sell your Greyhound ticket to Fak.”

“Bitch, fuck no—” “We can go aroun’ the city tommorow! We’re closed! C’mon have some fuckin’ fun before you start working in hell!” “We’re gonna be stupid New York tourists?” “Eva wanted me to get her face on some m and m’s—” “You want me to come with you to the fucking Time Square M and M store?”

That’s when Carmen shoots up, shoulder against yours, panickedly muttering into the phone, “We cannot go to Time Square a week out from Christmas.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. When you realize why there’s a pause, you shut your eyes tight, knowing exactly what you’re gonna get. Carmen realizes after watching your face scrunch up, he puts his face in his hands, “Shit—”

“You’re fucking Carmen!”

“No—” “You said you’re in bed! His bed?!” “We’re watching Ratatouille—” “Without me? You’re coming to the fucking M and M store— Also that big ass toy store—” “This is not a betrayal—” “Matter of fact, we’re gonna go see that big fuckin’ tree, too—” “You just want me to drive us home because you’re gonna be too hungover.”

“No, I want you to drive us home because I love you.” Richie’s slurring when he says it, like it’s some sort of gotcha. “So fuck you, actually.”

Carmen bites back laughter next to you, you just shake your head, tutting. “I love you, too, Cousin.”

“If you loved me you’d come play pool.” “I don’t fuckin’ know how to play pool!” “We’ll fuckin’ learn you somethin’ then!” “Fuck off! I’m already coming to fucking Time Square with you, don’t be whiny.” 

“You’ll come?”

You massage your brow bone, “Syd’s not gonna wanna sit next to Fak on the bus, you got room for four?”

“Yeah, but someone’s gonna have to sit on the console.” “I nominate Carmen.” “I second the nom.”

Carmen, now with two votes to sit on the console up front, presses his face into your shoulder. “What the fuck—” You peer down at him and whisper, “We’ll do shifts, don’t worry.”

“Put me on speaker phone.” “You’re talking so loud that Carmen can very clearly hear you.”

“Put me! On speaker phone!”

You put Richie on speaker phone. Carmen clears his throat, gruff, “Yo, Rich, can we finish the fuckin’ movie?”

“Patience is a virtue, or some shit. D’you see the resos?”

You mouth to Carmen, ‘Reservations?’ Carmen nods. “Yeah, I saw.”

“Gonna be fucked.” You frown when you hear that, but don’t want to interrupt. You silently word, ‘What happened?’ Carmen puts a finger over his mouth, he’ll explain in a second. 

“Gonna be fucked, yeah.” Carmen sniffs, swiping at his nose. “Good kind, though.”

“Yeah. Good kind.” There’s a sigh from Richie on the other end, that heavy sigh. Practically sobering up with just one sentence. “Christmas is in a week.”

“I know.” Carmen kisses his teeth. This is going to be the worst, for all of you. The missing link is going to be all too apparent.  “Good time to be busy.” 

“Good time to be busy.” Richie echoes. “Only way out is through.”

“Heard.” Carmen nods, what else is there to say? “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Aright. Don’t fuck in a fuckin’ Holiday Inn Chip’s worth mo—” 

That’s when you interrupt, “Alright, what a wonderful phone call this has been goodbye, fuck you, love you, don’t call again, be safe!” You hang up before Richie can reply, head flopping over.

There’s a long silence before Carmen speaks again. “...I’m not tryna do that by the way—”

“No, I know, I’m worth more than a Holiday Inn.”

Snorts of laughter fill the stale air of this shitty little Holiday Inn one bed. Carmen pulls you back into him, arm on your waist. Before you can start the movie again, though, you have to ask. “Reservations fucked?”

He hums, tucking your hair back so he can see the side of your face better. “We started taking reservations last week— Just to test it out. N’ it was goin’ smooth but ‘tuh…” He squints. “Trending today with the whole uh— Chef thing. We’re kinda booked full ‘til the end of the year. And January.”

“Oh shit.” Word on the street is true. Any advertising is good advertising. Even when promoting the wrong fucking website. 

“Yeah, good kinda fucked, but like. Fucked.” Carmy nods, and after a second, grabs your hand. “But Christmas— Christmas Eve ‘n Christmas is off— And New Years— So, so you won’t be overwhelmed, hopefully.”

Your brain is already shooting miles ahead, you’re mentally back in Chicago, already. “We really gotta get on that cocktail menu.” There’s so much to do. New job, new menu, Christmas—

“And coffee.” Carmen sounds calm when he says it, which is deeply unlike him.

“And coffee.” You echo, eyes distant. You shoot back up. “Fuck, road trip is gonna be such a time sink. Okay— Well, okay— We’ll just— I’ll make a list tonight—”

 You’ve gotta figure out your hours. You don’t want to lose Chicago’s Kindest completely— Can’t be available 24/7 anymore, though. Mattina Tony’s gonna hate that. But he’ll be happy for you. Gotta tell Eden’s Club you’re not going to pick up shifts anymore. They’ll say they’re happy about it, but curse you behind your back. That’s fine. 

“List for what?”

“Christmas shopping.” Your eyes flick to him, still thinking. “I win Christmas every year.”

You’re getting Richie new cufflinks— But what of? Can’t just do initials, that’s lame. Fuck, what do you get Carmen? Can’t just do something cooking related— That’s lamer. But it’s also like— His only hobby.

“Don’t think that’s how Christmas works.”

“It fully is. And being in Time Square is gonna widen the fuck out of my search radius. Fuck what do I do for Syd? Fancy knife? They sell fancy knives here?”

Carmen shrugs, “I know a guy in the area.”

“Fantastic. I’ll get a list, you’ll help me out with stores. We’ll get coloured pencils at FAO, we’ll draft up a rough menu on the way home—” “Hey—” “It’s twelve hours of driving, so I think we can get a good chunk done. And then test out and finish on Monday—” “Baby—” “I was thinking we could do a section of house cocktails and coffees named after Chefs—” “I said don’t work on it—” “So like, each one would be themed after what I think of when I think of you—” 

Carmen grabs your face with both hands. “Tony.”

“Carmy.”

“Cannot believe I’m saying this to another person, but loosen your grip.” He strokes your cheekbones with his thumb. It’s nice. “You don’t have to do it all.”

It's a long silence of just staring back at him, so much so Carmy’s worried he has failed at this whole self-help thing. But then, you say, “Sara’s a good fucking therapist.”

“She’s got a pretty flexible schedule, too.”

Your face is still in his hands, you’re basically unblinking. “I think you’re a pink pepper aperol spritz with a slice of grapefruit. Maybe like a cherry syrup rim? Or is that too much? That might be too much.”

Carmen sighs in a way that sounds like a laugh. “How many drinks have you made in your head?”

“Just that one. But I think Richie would be something with whiskey and peaches— And somethin’ about Syd makes me think about figs, I don’t know why, which would go good with—”

Carm pinches your cheek, frowning, though there’s an admiration to it. “I said don’t work on it.” 

You push his hands away, “I haven’t written anything down! I can’t stop my brain from thinking! How many fuckin’ plates do you have in your head?”

He thinks, tilting his head back and forth. “A couple.” It’s a lot more than a couple. “They’re all bad, though.” 

“Bad, how?” 

“Bad, like weird.” Carmen gestures to the dimming screen of his laptop. You shake the touchpad awake. Rat chef is inspiring, and a good reminder of what he's meant to do, as are you. “It’s uh, it’s a good movie. It’s good to make new shit. But like, I need to be controlled.”

You tilt your head, “I don’t think so.”

“No?” Despite the fact that you’re disagreeing with him, there’s a happy hum, in Carmen’s voice.

“No. I think we should make really bad weird shit. At least in like, R and D.” You lean back down, against him. “Gotta try it before you brush off the idea. That’s the fun thing about art, y’know? Might work, might not.”

“I think that’s life.”

“Life is art, art is life, food is both.” 

“Woah.” “That was kind of a bar, wasn’t it!?” “Kinda tough.” “What’s your bad weird idea?”

“Steak with pop rocks.”

“Oh my god.” Your eyes go wide, but with a smile. Shocked but delighted. It's absolutely going in Carmen's top five favourite expressions of yours. You lean into him further, back of your hand slapping his chest. 

“I know, but I was thinking the sugar would be good—”

“Like a sort of maple or sugar curing thing?” God, you just get it. And you give a shit about getting it.

“Exactly, n’ then it makes you like— Like salivate.” “I don’t think it’s that crazy an idea.”

He’s so excited to have someone encourage his ideas, for once. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod assuredly. “We should do it. Try it, at least.”

“Okay. Cool.” Carmen tries and fails to not light up at the prospect of ‘we’. “You’ve still got a hard out at twelve?”

“Syd said she will be knocking violently if I’m not back at midnight on the dot, yeah.” You unpause the movie. “And she’s gonna be pissed when I tell her I’ve volunteered us for a tourist spree, so I gotta be on her good side.”

Carmen shrugs, turning his attention back to the movie, arm around your shoulder. “It’ll be fun, if you’re there.”

It gives you both away.

Every sentence gives you both away. The way you speak, the way you act, the way you pose. It gives you both away. The way he moves your hair out of your face so you can see the movie clearly. The way you lift your head so he can tuck his arm under the pillow, so it doesn’t go numb under you. All without asking. The way you see each other, the way you are constantly doting and thinking of the next thing you can make the other—All without checking in. The Berf shirt you wear for pajamas, your refilled toiletries in his hotel shower. The domesticity comes all too easy to both of you. It gives you both away.

“Remy kinda sounds like Carmy, y’know—” “Don’t.” “My petit chef!”

You say I love you in every way but the way that makes it weird and bad and stupid and too soon. 

“Good God.” Is the first thing Sydney says, when you return to your shared hotel room. Face and voice filled with disgust, that is really only half sarcastic. “You’re beyond saving.”

You push past her, bumping shoulders as you do, smiling all the while. It’s nice that she can see you again. Even if she’s seeing that you’re down bad. “I didn’t even say anything—”

“Yeah, no, it’s that face on your face— God, it’s over—” “Baby, just say you’re happy for me.”

“I—” Syd blinks, rapid, hands in the air. “I’m happy for you— Tentatively.” Pending Carmen. Probationary forgiveness. 

“Thank you. I’ll take it.” You squat down to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge, when you do, you’re able to give Syd a once over.

She’s adorned in an old jazz club shirt from your highschool, boxers, and a long bonnet so old you recognize it. You recognize all of it. It’s nearly enough to make you cry. 

Funny, she’s thinking the same thing. Together, you speak. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“Jinx!”

“Double jinx!”

“Triple Jinx!” It’s on the third one that you decide to let her win and not say it a fourth time. 

It’s on the fourth one that Syd decides she doesn’t want to win. “Quadr— Man, this sucks.”

You know exactly what she means. You fall out of your squat, sitting on your butt with a frown. “It literally would’ve just taken one phone call.” You could’ve been doing this for years.

She sits down next to you, back against the front of the bed. “There were a lot of moments, where I thought to call you, honestly.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like uhm—” Syd’s face scrunches up her face, she’s already opened her mouth so she has to tell you, but she’s realizing she probably shouldn’t tell you. “There was this fucked day at The Beef, where we set up online orders, and I forgot to tick off pre-order—”

You unscrew the bottle cap, squinting. “I feel like that should automatically be off.” 

“That’s what I’m fucking saying!” She slaps your knee with the back of her hand, “But uh, no it was fucking on— And we got like— Like fucked— Said that already. Hundreds of orders. And it was so much and and— Richie was, at the time, kind of a dick—” 

“You don’t have to mince, I know what he was.” You take a sip of water, nodding. He’s a work in progress, as are you all.

“He was being a bitch and— And— I might’ve maybe lowkey stabbed him.”

“Holy fuck?!” You have to laugh, out of sheer shock. You choke on your water. “Syd?!”

“It— Swear to God—” Syd raises one hand, and puts the other over her heart. “Was an accident. Like— Like I was saying I would, and also I was like—  Thinking about it— But I didn’t mean to actually do it— Like he walked into it—”

“Jesus Christ, Manslaughter Sydney—!” “No! …A little. On occasion.”

“You ever wanna stab Carmy?” “Oh, all the fucking time.”

“Fair.” You hand her your water bottle when you spot her looking at it. You see each other, you take care of each other, without being asked. 

“And after a brutal stabbing—” “It was barely a graze, to his ass.” “—You thought to call me?”

“Yeah. You’re like. I dunno. I—” She sighs, taking a beat. “I’ve heard people talk about like— When they’re in a life or death scenario, or panicking, their first thought is like ‘I gotta call my mom’.” Syd clutches onto the water bottle like it’s a life preserver. “But I like— Like I don’t have that instinct, duh, dead mom club— But like, like my instinct when I’m scared is to call you.”

“You should’ve.” You want to take her hand, but don’t. Still working on that hesitation. You’ll both get there.

“You should’ve, too.” Syd lightly punches your knee. She tucks her lips in a line, thinking. “I would’ve been there.”

“I think I kinda got stuck in the same thought Mikey had, with Carmen.” You prop your knee up, hugging it to you. “Didn’t wanna drag you down with me. Didn’t want you to know I— That I’m not really uhm— That I’m not all that great.”

“I didn’t ask you to be great.” Syd says it before she thinks it, and it’s enough to make your eyes water. In a good way. She continues. “I didn’t ask you to be my somme, either. I always thought you were cool. I would always think you’re cool.”

“I…” You clear your throat, controlling your micro-expressions poorly. “I— I know. I think I just… Always do too much? Like I do everything to make myself like— Needed.”

If they need you, they can’t leave you. Though, that didn’t really stop you two from growing apart, so there goes that theory. 

“You are needed.” Syd nearly rolls her eyes at you, but realizes that might be insensitive.

Syd could’ve called Terry, when the walk-in door broke. She called you. Syd could’ve called Claire— They’re not all that close, but she could’ve, when Nat went into labour. She called you. Syd could’ve called Fak, when Carmen’s oven broke. She called you. It’s insane that you’d ever think you weren’t her lifeline. 

But she clarifies anyway, “Not that— Not that you need to be needed though, for me to want you around.”

You snatch the water bottle from her. “Well, I know that now.”

“Good.”

You all but chug the water, God you’re dehydrated. Syd laughs, “It’s not gonna fucking run away from you.”

“We don’t know that for sure.” You grin, screwing the cap back on. Sniffing, you sober up a little. “We’re never not gonna be friends again.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Lest you go full on He Had it Comin’ on your fuckin’ co-workers again.”

She scoffs. “I promise to try to not stab someone in your presence.” 

“Deal.” You both laugh. You put your hand out to her, and without confirmation, do a handshake that must be more than a decade old. Dap, up-down, jellyfish out. Though, for your purposes, squid out. 

Incredible, you’ve hit Syd with love and nostalgia, she has to say yes now. “We’re roadtripping with Richie and Carmen instead of taking the Greyhound.”

“It’s so crazy that you think that’s gonna happen—” “It will be fun—” “Define fun for me, right now—” “We can get Christmas shopping done—”

“Fuck. Christmas is in a week.” “I know!” 

Syd scrunches up her nose. “What do I get my dad?”

“Sounds like you need to do some window shopping.” You could probably recommend something if you thought about it for two more seconds, but then you wouldn’t have an excuse to drag her along. “We could go to a Tiffany’s or something.”

“What and get him a locket?” “I’m honestly just naming stores, at this point.”

She’s thinking about it, really thinking about it. “...Could go to the MET, go through the gift shop. He’s a tchotchke guy.”

You hum, nodding. You can get her to fold. “Look at some expos, get some artistic inspiration?”

Syd’s eyes roll back, and she rolls her head back with them, head on the edge of the bed, in dismay. “...Are we doing gifts?” 

You shrug, “Was thinking I’d get you a little something.”

“So super over the top and extravagant?” “What’s the fun in telling?” “I hate you.” “So you’ll come?”

She sighs, husky. “Yeah…” She says it like she’s upset but you both know Syd is a little excited. 

You pump your fist, delighted. A win.

A comfortable silence fills the room. You flop your back down on the floor, laying on the carpet. “Thank you for helping Carmy.”

“Didn’t do much.” Syd shrugs, lazily turning her head on the bed to you. “He just needs pushing, sometimes.”

You hum, nodding. “Well, thank you for pushing.”

“You’re so welcome, dude.” You both laugh, and after another long gap of silence, she kicks you. “Stop lying on the dirty ass hotel floor, we paid for a bed.” 

“There’s something about laying on the floor, man.” You shake your head. “Get down here. I can see the scope of the universe from down here, actually.”

With a profoundly deep sigh, Syd rolls over to you. Your shoulders touch as you both stare at the ceiling. She hums, pointing to the popcorn tiles. “Oh yeah, secrets of the universe, right there.”

“I told you.” You nod, wisely. You frown. “...When do you think it’s like, too soon, to say ‘I love you’?”

“Oh my fucking God it’s that bad—” “Just answer!” “Definitely right now is too fucking soon!” “Well, yeah, I fuckin’ figured—!” “I’d say like, another month or two, minimum.”

“I think I might explode, by then, if I’m being honest.” You turn your head to her. “I’m really worried I’m gonna forget I haven’t already said it and I’m gonna say it at a stupid moment and it’s gonna be lame and embarrassing and bad.”

Syd turns her head to you. “Yeah, that’s probably what’s gonna happen.”

“Okay, so you’re no fuckin’ help.” You snort. 

“What do you want me to say? You love to the point of embarrassment.” She shrugs, smiling at your demise. But then Syd sobers up a little, turning her body to face you, leaning her head on her hand. “Are you sure, though?”

“I think so, yeah.” You cross your arms, nodding, assuring yourself, practically. “I feel what I think can only be described as emotionally violent— affectionately. And I think that’s what love is. Pretty sure.”

“Hm.” Syd watches you watch her. You’re absolutely getting lost in your own brain. She pokes the space between your eyebrows, you wake back up. “What’s in there?”

You blink, “Thinking of all the worst ways I could say it.” In front of everyone, accidentally while saying goodbye, off-handedly while hanging up, over text, and so on and so forth.

“Okay, that sounds awful and unproductive so let’s go to bed, huh?” Syd grunts, sitting up. She reaches for your hand to help you stand up with her. “Just try saying it normal.”

You take a breath, looking her in the eyes, say it normal. “Love you.”

“Yeah, just say it like that.”

“Oh, so I can say it—” “In two months.”

“Wait, is one more month hard off the table now—” “Now it’s three.” “Fuck, it’s gaining interest?!”

Just try to make it to next year without saying it, you’d take that happily. Just make it to Christmas. Okay, maybe just make it until you get back to Chicago…Maybe just take a vow of silence. 

You shake your head, coming back to reality.

“Wait, what the fuck, Syd, say it back!”

wooooo

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[sibillascribbles08]

Big Ol' Rottmnt Fic Rec List

Hi, I've needed to do this for a while, so here's a big bundle of fic recs from me !

I've broken it down between one shots, chaptered fics, and series. I'll try to mention what the character focus is along with a brief summary and some personal thoughts. If you need more details I encourage you to check the fics summary and tags for yourself! I will only include an author's tumblr account if it's easy for me to find haha

One Shots

Mama's Boy - ashtreelane: Technically two chapters but it feels like a one shot. Casey Jr. angst, involving him finding out that maybe you can fix kraang infections and that he failed to save his mother. I love when people really pile the grief on Junior after all the fighting is over and the fic does it so well.

Forget-Me-Nots - GibbousLunation (AKA @klunkcat ): Hi, oh my god??? Leo and Mikey centric angst, in which saving Leo from the prison dimension has an insane ripple effect. Mikey dying? Nah he's going to start getting erased from every timeline and Leo slowly watches it happen (and refuses to do nothing about it). I utterly adore how this fic handles this concept. You see almost all of it from Leo's POV, noticing the little changes but writing them off as memory failures, because of how subtle some of it is.

Fight or Flight - pickledcarrotsandradish: Leo centric, post movie, Leo keeps waiting for his family to start lecturing him about all the dumb stuff he did during the invasion, and they aren't, so it's getting to him. A very neat narrative about how self loathing can warp our perception of how others see us. A++++

The Friend Zone Sounds Pretty Good, Actually - Cryptvokeeper: Eating this, eating this. You probably already know I love aroace Leo and this fic is an INCREDIBLE exploration of that. Even as just an ace person it hit SO many notes where I was just like "Oh god... I've been there buddy". And as a bonus the dynamic between Leo and Yuichi is v sweet. Love this a lot I've read it like five times.

Pink in The Night - unnamedmystery: Incredible April/Sunita fic. Like seriously this author wrote April's crush so well I think I was starting to fall in love with Sunita. Just incredibly cute all the way through, and great April writing, adore it.

《 until then, matriarch 》 - chiangyorange: HI OH MY GOD A nice chunky oneshot about Karai, about her being a leader, and it's phenomenal. It hits and hits and does not miss, really going in depth about her emotions involving her father turning into something wicked and having to destroy him, and how it ruins all of her good memories.

The Kindness of Collision - SpoonerizedSwiftness (AKA @splickedylit ): Hi I still remember the fic and the art suddenly showing up in the tag and then I was thinking about it for the next like five weeks aslkdjf A very interesting idea that when the turtles reach the age they were in the doomed timeline before things got reset, all the memories of their other life more or less hit them like a train. All of them have to comb through that information and it's a wonderful and emotional ride.

Chaptered Fics

Hamartia - Punable (in progress): Hi this is one of my all time favorite rise fics, mainly because in a way, it helped me come to terms with my chronic pain. It's Donnie centric and smack full of angst in all the best ways. Shorthand summary, an explosion in Donnie's lab almost takes him out (or kind of DOES take him out) and the recovery is not only long and agonizing, it may only go so far, and Donnie doesn't cope well with that.

Kick It Up a Notch - Brokenpitchpipe (completed): Hi this is my other all time fav rise fic. Donnie centric separated AU in which Donnie is raised by Draxum. My love for it stems a lot from the characterization of Donnie though, and even Draxum in this case. Not to mention that in a lot of cases it matches the vibes of the show. And in spite of all the humor, there's a few really gut wrenching moments. 10/10 will re-read.

Lightning in Our Fingertips Today - DaFlangsLairde (AKA @daflangstlairde-art) (completed): Leo and Donnie centric, mostly angst, with body swapping between the twins which results in Donnie finding out that Leo's ninpo hurts him. Love love love the character writing in this, and also how the swap is written.

Under Pressure - ParvumAutomaton (completed): Not sure this is a single character focused fic, but basically April goes cave diving and is out for a while, and the turtles get worried and go looking for her. This might be personal bias but as someone who gets really into caving stories, this fic hits the spot for so many reasons. A really great emotional ride, and if you wanna see April go through it then I super recommend it.

Nothing Haunts Us (like the things we don't say) - mad_and_thick_as_theives (completed): A lot of great fics by this author btw, but this one personally stood out to me. It starts of silly and light only to sweep in with the emotional weight. Turtles are all cursed with a truth spell, basically, but I think my favorite bit is who gets out of it first (and why). V sweet.

Creation of a Philospher's Stone - IgnisCanis (completed): Whoooo boy, if you want some Draxum centric character exploration this is a great one. It really fleshes him out as a morally grey character and also does a fantastic job at writing Mikey when he finds out.

The Ol Switcheroo - radishhqueen (AKA @radishhqueen) (completed): Haha not going to lie I have a few by this author (so I'll only tag them once) but MAN. Hands down my favorite take on future leo coming to the past, and maybe I'm biased because I like when those fics actually explore Junior's character in the process buuuuut I love it. Junior's already struggling to adapt himself to the present, and after getting caught up in a foot clan spell which summons his sensei to the present too it really doesn't get any easier.

Vigilantism for Fun and Profit - radishhqueen (completed): The Cassandra Jones fic ever. Zero contest. If you're uncertain about writing Cassandra because she had so little development in the show I encourage you to read this for inspiration (I know it inspired me a lot). It does such a great deep dive into her character post show and a bit of the movie too. Honestly anytime radishh has a Cassandra fic I am clicking.

Tried to Grow Up Good - Sroloc_Elbisivni (AKA @sroloc--elbisivni )(completed): The Casey Jr. fic ever. CRAZY in love with this post movie take on him. It's messy, it's fun, it's so so real and you get a good chunk of Casey Sr. in here too. Adore it.

Hold On (Or Three Times Donatello's Soft Shell Almost Killed Him, and One Time it Saved His Life) - dunk_on_em (AKA @spockazilla )(completed): If you ever want a bit of angst involving Donnie's shell this is my go to. Every chapter has an emotional swing, even the positive ones. And shows something most people might see as a disadvantage as a good thing, actually.

Atlas, My Brother - swampcryptid (AKA @the-name-is-rizzotherat)(in progress): Get your Raph angst, specifically involving him always shielding his siblings, this time via a curse. My guy is already going through it and I think it'll get worse if a solution isn't found.

I've Got You Under My Skin - Cass_Phoenix (in progress): More Raph angst, and some Donnie, a truly chilling exploration of the possible consequences to connecting with the kraang. This fic constantly has me on the edge of my seat, and constantly stressing for Raph.

What We Leave Behind (How We Start Anew) - iam57311 (AKA @iam-57311)(in progress): Any Baronjitsu fans here? An alternate take on canon in which Draxum and Splinter co-parent the kids since they're first born (made?) Hilariously while I love the Baronjitsu content in here, I think some of my favorite parts are actually with the sisters, Big Mama, and Draxum's sister who is so so cool I love her.

Proof of Redemption - iam57311 (complete): Another one of theirs! A short and sweet lil close to canon fic about Draxum steadily gaining the trust and affection of the Hamatos, with each chapter focused on a different character. I love how they're all paced out from each other, really hits how some are much slower than others to trust Draxum hehe.

No Crime* Only Brooches - OllieTheScribe (AKA @olliethescribe) (in progress): Well I have to get THE HypnoWarren fic in here. Such a fun take on these characters, I love love love the backstory they built up for Warren too, plus the dynamic between these two and the turtles after (eventually) become friends haha.

Minor Interference - bambiraptorx (AKA @bambiraptorx) (in progress): What can I say? This fic is delightful. Between the hilarity of the turtles going with Draxum just to mess with him, the lore additions for yokai and the Hidden City, HoH Donnie, and their slowly building dynamic, always eager for a new chapter with this one.

Series

A Butterfly with a Mechanical Wing - Amethyst_Goldenwind (AKA @amethystgoldenwind ): Donnie centric series about being a non-verbal autistic. I'm always fond of non-verbal/mute explorations of characters, and so far I really like how, because his family has grown up with it, all of it is very normal for them. The various forms of communication are delightful. Excited to see further entries.

Analogous Hues - alwerakoo (AKA @alwerakoo): It's a separated AU with similar titling themes as my own, needed to check it out. The titles are just about all they have in common though! This AU focuses a lot on the turtles (Raph and Leo with Splinter and Donnie and Mikey with Draxum). I love how this explores not only the dynamics of the two groups and how different they are, but also the dynamics between each of the siblings, also how some magic sibling connections can influence that. Not to mention the different home life in more ways than one. If you're into separated AUs that really dig into the turtles dynamics try this one out !

[obsessedwrhys]

Hello, could you create a headcanon for ROTTMNT where April saves the reader (gender-neutral) from being kidnapped by a Yokai and brings the reader to the hideout without telling the turtles? What would their reaction be?

MEETING THE BROTHERS FOR THE FIRST TIME

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ fluff, bit of angst? Reader is gn!! (Sorry this was rushed ☹)

Background

What that Yokai wanted from you was unclear, you were simply on your way home when suddenly you found yourself to be cornered by a scary looking creature. All you knew was that it wasn't human.

It started shouting at you, demanding of something that you had stolen from them but you were unfamiliar with the description of the object they were after as you had no memory of coming across such item. It was when they lost their anger and about to lash at you, potentially taking you away, your classmate, April was able to jump to your rescue.

With the Yokai out cold, she grabbed your hand and began taking you somewhere. Somewhere she said will be safe for the both of you. However you didn't expect it to be the smelly odour of the sewers you would be hiding into. After a few walks and turns, you stumbled upon what seemed to be an underground lair. You were too astonished by the place to even notice the four creatures staring at you.

RAPH

Out of all of the brothers, he was quick to pull April aside and ask her why she thought it was a great idea to bring a random HUMAN into their secret lair.

It was when she explained how you were being targeted by a Yokai that caught his attention. You? Being targeted by a Yokai? What could a Yokai need from a human like you?

Despite his unease having a stranger in the lair, he decided to let you stay when April assured him you were a good person. If she trusts you enough then he'll trust you too.

Seeing how April explains to you this whole new world to you, he could only watch as your expression changes every second from the pure shock of all of this.

He had to admit, he had expected you to freak out and run away but surprisingly you approached him and his brothers to introduce yourself properly.

"My name's (Y/N), it's nice to meet you. April says you guys are the good guys" You'd say and he couldn't help but stare at you. You're not afraid of them??

After the events of that day, you'd come by often to understand this new world of Yokai better, also for the sake of understanding why you would be targeted by one in the first place.

You were kind, patient and not to mention respectful towards them. That's why he decided to offer you some self defense lessons to ensure you were capable of protecting yourself.

As the eldest and being the one bearing so much responsibilities, he appreciates it when you would take the time to hear his rants. Like he never thought he'd find someone who would just get how he feels.

You guys would definitely do relaxing activities together to calm your minds. He now finds it more fun when you're doing it with him.

Yoga, knitting, making tea? Count him in!!

That's why it comes easily that his uncertainty towards you would change. He'd feel himself starting to feel more comfortable around you, at the same he'd also be protective of you since he now considers you a close friend.

"If you ever need anything, I'm here for you, you can always count on me to be there"

LEO

The moment you came inside the lair, your presence had him raise his brows out of interest. Like who are you? And why are you here?

Second to Mikey, he would also approach you to introduce himself. He had to admit, he was just happy to befriend another human.

He literally didn't listen to a single thing to what Raph said about you, all he knew was that you needed safety and was being targeted by a Yokai. But hey, just because you're here to figure things out, that doesn't mean you can't make your stay fun at the same time!

He'd be all over you, like whatever it is that you're doing, he wants to include himself in it. But if you really need the privacy or concentration to do something, he'll back off.

Once you become his friend, be ready for the weekly rants about the different varieties of comics he'd finish reading. If you happen to do the same, he'd be glad to lend you his collection ONLY IF you return it without a scratch.

Honestly, I like to think that he's the one who constantly tries to get you in trouble with his crazy activities. That's because Raph will let him slide easily if you were involved. He likes to boast about how it's a 169 IQ strategy but what he doesn't realise is the pile of chores he'll have to do after every attempt.

He's aware of you being targeted by this unknown Yokai but that doesn't stop him from taking you to the Hidden City. He's a risk taker, what did you expect?

He has probably lost you once or more and it always costs him a lot of trouble to finally find you. Just imagine at the end of the day, he'd be begging you not to tell anyone about what happened because he's afraid of being lectured.

He definitely let's you play with his samurai swords if you ever asked. You once accidentally teleported one of Donnie's gadgets and you both agree to keep it a secret. Til this day on, he's still searching for it.

Also if you need someone to have fun with, he's the guy.

If you wanna skateboard with him, he'll gladly do so. If you don't know how to, he'll be patient in teaching you. His hands intertwined with yours to make sure you don't fall off.

To be fair he doesn't think much of your sudden appearance to the group, as long as you're cool and a genuinely nice person, you're welcomed to the club!

"If you ever need a BETTER company, I'm the man!!"

DONNIE

No way did April just let a random person in their lair as if it's thanksgiving.

He'd be conscious about you, watching your every move and every expression, anything to catch just a hint of bad intentions behind your sudden appearance.

When April was explaining your situation to Raph, he couldn't help but eavesdrop. You were almost kidnapped by a Yokai? Yikes. Why would someone do that?

Even though April reassures them how you are trustworthy, Donnie feels like he'll need to judge your character himself.

After the day you guys got to know each other, you would regularly drop by their place to stay for a while, your reason being either that you wanted to come by to chill or that you felt safer in the lair.

Personally Donnie would be invested in figuring out why you were targeted by a Yokai in the first place. If you're ready to talk about it, he'd question the night of the event to get some answers.

While he's on his computer doing his investigating, he wouldn't mind having you inside his room. Just don't break or touch any of his things. He can get frustrated when you move even just an inch of his stuff.

Since you are uncertain of your safety, Donnie would be willing to make a watch for you. It can track where you are and if you happen to be in an emergency, just one press on the emergency button and he'll instantly get the message.

He's not mean or anything but it takes a while for him to put down his guard around you. Once he does then it's like seeing a whole different side of him, he'd be much more chatty and smiling.

If you're sort of a nerd who likes to geek out then he's your pal to geek out with. Math, science, whatever that is a common interest between you both, he can go on for days if you dare challenge him.

To be honest I can see him being the type to sneak into school just to see what you're doing. Not in a stalking way but more of a, oh you need company that day because April isn't present? Or you have a school event and you want him to be there? He just wants to ensure your safety in case a Yokai somehow sneaks in, which is ironic since he's doing the exact same.

Clearly when you came to the lair for the first time he is very wary of you but after a few days of getting to know you personally, he realises how the misunderstanding led to a new friendship. He won't complain since you turned out to be an alright person.

"Oh great you're procrastinating again. GO BACK TO WORK!!"

MIKEY

His eyes lit up when he saw you entering the lair with April beside you. Its almost like an alarm went off in his head signalling "NEW FRIEND. NEW FRIEND" over and over again.

He was the first to approach you, he was introducing himself and talking about lots of nonsense. All you could make out was how he said he was thrilled to meet you and that he was excited to paint rainbows together (?). You were confused as you struggled to keep up with his pace of talking.

When Raph told him the tight situation you were in, he actually gasped, like audibly gasped. A Yokai tried to kidnap you? How could someone do that??

That's why he was willing to let you stay any time you needed. He didn't complain since that meant he gets to have some company.

He really does care about your safety so if you'd like, he would like to join you whenever you went out. If its in the morning then he'll be on the rooftops watching after you as you walked down the city. Anything to make you feel less anxious.

Speaking of anxiety, he'd offer to have you paint murals with him. The lair has plenty of walls for you to use so if you're an artist itching for some place to test out your skills, he knows just where is the perfect place.

Something also tells me he would like to create matching bracelets together. Yes, he's just that good at making new friends. He'll definitely make your beads your favourite colour while you do his signature orange.

He's so the type of friend to make sure you're always looking your best. You have something in your teeth? He'll tell you discreetly. Is your hair not hairing? Don't worry bro's a stylist.

He obviously tries to lift up your spirits as his brothers are busy helping you out. If you ever need someone to talk about your worries to, he's there to lend a shoulder. He'll have tissues ready if you happen to need a good cry.

Based on the details you shared about what happened, he can't help but come up with a theory that you could be some secret hybrid. Maybe you have some secret powers you're not aware? He once brought that theory to Donnie who immediately dismisses it.

But who knows, maybe he's onto something.

Nonetheless, he's just glad to have made a friend like you. Sometimes some good can come out of an unplanned surprise.

"You're my friend now!! We're gonna have soft tacos together 😊"

[justauthoring]

TOKYO REVENGERS - SPENDING THE NIGHT OVER FOR THE FIRST TIME

includes: chifuyu matsuno, ken “draken” ryuguji, hakkai shiba, hanma shuji, manjiro “mikey” sano all x fem!reader

CHIFUYU wants to ask you to stay, but doesn’t know how.

The words are at the tip of his tongue, and he hesitates, eyes watching as your figure rushes to gather your things. But... he doesn’t want you to leave. That he knows, and the desperation settles in as it grows closer and closer to it being time for you to leave.

“You... You could stay.”

He’s barely registered he’s said it before he has.

And you pause at his barely uttered words, body freezing as your head turns over your shoulder so your eyes can meet his. You’ve gathered your jacket and bag, the former having only been slipped on over one shoulder.

“Sorry?”

Your voice is light, airy. A warmth to it that still, to this day makes Chifuyu’s heart flutter and his stomach to flood with butterflies because how was it possible you could sound so... inviting? So warm? He feels his insides melt when you talk to him and he just wants to fiddle away into a puddle because he loves hearing your voice so much.

“Stay,” he repeats, forcing down his own nerves and letting the word echo in the silence for a moment before adding; “I’d like you to stay.”

Your bag slips to the floor and you turn, facing Chifuyu properly. “You want me to spend the night?”

He nods, eager.

“Really?”

And there’s bright grin on your face now, slipping off your jacket as you make your way over to him. Chifuyu’s blushing while he nods, still unable to form proper words, face turned beat red at your light teasing, but doesn’t resist when you fall next to him on his bed, giggling. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” you admit. “I really didn’t wanna leave.”

Setting a hand on your back, Chifuyu hums; “didn’t want you to leave.”

You giggle, “I’m that great at cuddling, huh?”

And he says so without hesitance, a trace of doubt as he nods down at you; “the best.”

DRAKEN says the words plainly;

“You should just spend the night.”

And the words are so blunt, so matter of fact, that you almost give yourself whiplash as you spin to face him. Wide eyes falling on him as your lips part to say something, but hesitate because you’re not even sure what to say.

Maybe a part of you had hoped he asked, gone super slow while gathering your things, but you hadn’t expected it to be that easy.

“You want me to?” You ask softly, struggling to find your voice.

Draken nods, “of course. It’s about time.”

You were hoping for a little more but still -- was better then nothing.

“The girls won’t mind?”

He shrugs, “they already love you. It just sucks that we’ll mostly have to hang out in here.” He gestures around himself at his bedroom, a slight pout on his lips as he does.

You grin at that, “that’s what we do most of the time when I visit, Kenny.”

“Yeah, I know. Just sucks.”

Leaning forward, you grab Draken’s hand, squeezing it tightly in your own. “You know I don’t care as long as I get to be with you, Ken,” and then, you pause. Unsure. “You’re positive you want me staying? I don’t want to intrude on your--”

“Stupid,” he huffs lightly, the insult teasing as he smirks, “you’re not intruding if it’s you. Plus, I’m the one who asked you to stay.”

“I know,” you nod, “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Come ‘ere,” he urges, ushering you towards him with a wave of his hand. You listen easily, letting yourself fall into his grip as his hand falls to your back, guiding you on top of his chest as he leans back on his bed. The two of you settle in comfortably then, with Draken’s hand resting on your back. “Been wanting to ask ya for a while.”

“Oh,” you mumble, unable to fight the smile on your lips; “yeah?”

“Yeah. Last time you came over, I wanted to. Got too scared though.”

You think back to how heavily Draken had pouted last time you’d come over and eventually, had to leave. It was unlike Draken to act like that, and you remember it both being endearing but entirely too hilarious to not tease him.

Maybe if you hadn’t teased him, he would’ve asked.

“Sorry,” you offer, letting your hand fall on his chest, next to your head.

“Not your fault,” he dismisses easily, “been wanting to ask for a while. Been to chicken-shit. Glad I got the courage this time though. I... I like having you in my arms.”

“I like being in your arms, Kenny.”

HAKKAI is positive he sounds like a bumbling fool.

“Would... Would you...--I mean, you don’t have to but I would like you--don’t feel pressure though--”

Laughing, you shake your head. Making your way over to Hakkai, you set your hands on his arms, looking up at him as he finally stops his rambling to stare down at you. “Calm down,” you soothe gently, “what is it?”

Red in face and feeling entirely like an idiot, Hakkai huffs.

“I wanted to know if you’d... like to spend the night.”

And his voice is so small, so unsure that it almost breaks your heart how nervous he is to ask you something. Let alone something like that. 

Something you’d never reject.

So, smiling brightly, you grin, eyes twinkling; “I’d love to.”

He blinks at that, as if having already expected a rejection. The embarrassment wipes from his face as his lips part, staring back at you; “really?”

“Of course,” you laugh, “why wouldn’t I?”

Pausing, Hakkai hesitates at that -- because really, why wouldn’t you? It wasn’t like this was the first time you’ve come over to his house and you guys have been dating long enough for something like this to be more normal...

“I dunno,” he admits finally, “just didn’t want you to think you had to.”

“Well, I don’t,” you shrug, letting your hands fall by your side as you grin up at him. “And I’d love to spend the night. Didn’t wanna go home anyways.”

“Oh?” Hakkai frowns, concerned. “Is something wrong?”

You can’t help but feel giddy at his concern, how despite how embarrassed and nervous he was seconds ago, it all faded away the second he thought something might be wrong. It warmed your heart in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever expected before.

“Everything’s totally fine,” you assure him, “I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

And of course, Hakkai’s face goes beat red, again, at that.

HANMA finds the morphed expression of surprise and indignation on your face absolutely hilarious.

“Shu,” you say, voice firm, “let me go.”

Keeping his arms locked firmly around your waist, Hanma simply shakes his head. It didn’t help that he had such long arms, that of which could easily wrap themselves around you entirely, or the fact that he easily had the strength to keep you there as well.

Glaring up at your boyfriend, you huff; “I need to go home. it’s getting late.”

Hanma just shakes his head, a fact that causes you to growl in annoyance, before he grins wide; “just spend the night.”

Pausing, your entire body freezes in his grasp; “what?”

“I don’t want you to leave, so spend the night.”

And it sinks in then.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

The ever say shit-eating grin on his face, Hanma all but cackles, head thrown back in amusement at the fact that you know him so well. “Of course,” he concedes with ease, “never planned on letting you leave. Even if you want to.”

“That’s kidnapping.”

“You’re my girlfriend.”

“Still kidnapping.”

Quirking a brow, Hanma glances down at you; “you don’t want to spend the night?”

Cheeks warming, you huff; “n-no, I do.” Pouting, you turn your gaze away from him, “you just could’ve asked me first.”

“Y/N/N.”

Turning back to Hanma at the suddenly serious tone of his voice, you pause, concerned.

“Would you like to spend the night?”

Instantly that concern goes right out the window.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“Regrettably.”

But both of you know you don’t really mean that.

MIKEY is absolutely confused when he sees you moving to leave.

“What’re you doing?”

Baffled, you turn to Mikey, head tilted; “getting ready to leave?”

And his words make him frown, that ever familiar pout falling on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. He slumps back against his bed like a little kid, and huffs. “I thought you were spending the night.”

It takes you a moment to process what he’s said. And the fact that he says it as if you were the one being crazy here.

Raising a brow, you glance around yourself, trying to collect your thoughts, before turning back to the child you have for a boyfriend. “You never asked me to?”

He just shrugs; “I thought it was obvious.”

“Um, no. It wasn’t.”

He perks up then, as if all was solved now that you knew you just hadn’t (somehow) caught up with the obvious.

“Oh, well, then, perfect.” Turning, he moves to grab the manga the two of you hand been reading together, before facing you once again. “Come on, I wanna see what happens next.”

Shaking your head, you jerk back; “I still need to leave?”

“You’re spending the night,” Mikey says bluntly, “I thought we covered that already.”

“We didn’t,” you huff, letting your bag fall to the ground as you turn to face Mikey fully. “I didn’t bring anything to spend the night and I’ll need to let my mom--”

“Oh, yeah,” Mikey agrees, moving to a stand, letting the manga fall back to the bed behind him. “I’ll get you something to wear and you call your mom, okay?”

He grins at you, pecking your cheek softly before moving to his closet, all whilst you continue to stand there like an idiot.

“Y/N?” Mikey calls after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Your mom?”

When you glance back at him, he’s staring back at you expectantly.

It still doesn’t click in what exactly happened even as you fall asleep in Mikey’s arms later that night.

[goldengirliez]

TIPSY MIKEY. We all stan a cute, tipsy Mikey.

09:53 pm

Nighttime is the most amazing part of the day. You can give yourself the attention you deserve, taking care of yourself, watching your favourite show, preparing a nourishing meal... All of this after the frenzy of the day, the heat of the city, the infinite traffic jams, and the overwhelmingness of your daily job.

Once you get your favourite shirt covering you up, you can't help but sigh contently, letting the perfume of the clothing fill your nostrils, the softness of the cotton fabric gently caressing your skin and the white colour of the tissue soothes your tired eyes.

His shirts are always your anchor after a long day when you haven't been able to meet. After a whole week you and your boyfriend, Mikey, haven't been able to meet because of his busy schedule due to an upcoming race and you being buried deep down the pit of work and hectic everyday life.

Just when you're about to get into the covers and call it a day, some motherfucker dares to ring the bell of your apartment, knocking at your door mercilessly. It's almost 10 pm, who could it possibly be?!

Stomping your feet towards the door of your apartment, you rub your eyes in a pissed manner, the lotion you put on your face earlier slightly oiling the tip of your fingers. When you open the door with a frustrated sigh, your eyes go from annoyed to surprised in less than two seconds. You surely didn't expect to find Draken, Mikey's best friend since the old days and a member of his racing team, looking at you apologetically while holding your boyfriend on his back, piggyback style.

You don't question him, despite wanting to do so, and let the beefy man in. He drops Mikey on your couch and he yelps, whining a slurred and slightly annoyed "Ken-chinnnnn".

You and Draken share a look that says it all: he was drunk, dead-drunk, cockeyed.

"A week is left before the big day, everyone wanted to meet up before having to go all in until the race day" Drake sighs and scratches the back of his head.

You have never seen him so shy, he must be quite tipsy too but you decide not to point that out, showing mercy for his virility.

"I'm sorry about this- he kept on blabbering about how much he missed you so I thought this was the best thing to do".

Of course, it is. Mikey's addicted to you. He loves you so much and every time he can't meet you even for a short period, not being able to hold you close and pepper your face in kisses, he loses it and does stupid things like... Getting drunk with his friends.

You can feel a sudden weight on your shoulder, strong arms wrapping around your waist like a snake and a stinging smell of mixed alcohol make its way through your senses.

Mikey's cheek is squished against your shoulder and he looks at you with big, doe onyx orbs and sweet, plump pouty lips.

His obsidian hair is a bit messy, and his cheek is slightly rosy due to his tipsiness.

You could devour him. He looks so adorable.

"Babyyy, is this really you? Fuck– I've missed you so much" winey voice and teary eyes. He always acts like a child whenever he's drunk and that never fails to put your heart in danger because of cuteness overload.

"You did great Draken, I'll take care of him, thank you for bringing him here" you smile at your boyfriend's best mate and motion him to go before Mikey throws off a tantrum on how much he had missed you and how you should have answered to his messages more often.

Just when he gets out you sigh and look at your boyfriend who's snuggling against you (probably because he's not even capable of standing still by himself), caressing your warm skin with the tip of his nose.

“Why haven't you answered any of my calls today, baby?”

It is surprising how his voice rings in your years, shaking your very core: his slurred and childish words from before have been completely replaced by a deep, low and shy whisper. He sounds pained.

You can feel the warmth of his muscles flex on your abdomen as he brings you closer to him until your back is touching his toned chest. His heart is thrumming against his ribcage, you can feel it.

“Can't focus on anything without hearing from you for so long… I get worried too, ya know?”

Your Manjiro has always been this way, whenever he got tipsy, he would always become more clingy, whinier and vulnerable.

Despite this, his charm is undeniable and you can't help but pend from his lips when his words flow effortlessly like the smoothest cream. Listening to him and absorbing his body heat is like indulging in the sweetest thing you might ever taste.

He doesn't do it on purpose, such antics become natural when he's with you: your magnecticity touches every cell of his body and makes it act on its own, getting on the right frequency just because you are there.

You're everything he needs and all he has always had.

You can't blame him for behaving like this, like the lovestruck man he is.

“I’m so sorry, ‘jiro, I've been busy… but I'll make it up to you, okay?”

His body weight leans more towards you as he mutters a slurred ‘you better'. Despite wanting to sound pissed, the smile on his face is clear as day even if his face is hidden in the curve on your neck. His satisfied tone betrays him: maybe wearing one of his shirts was a start to make up for the lost time already.

As your hand smoothes over his liquorice locks you can feel a damp, hot sensation on your neck: his hot breath reaches your skin as he kisses it in both relief and contentment, exciting your nostrils with a pungent hint of alcohol.

Once your hands make contact with his back in a fluid, circular motion, you can feel Mikey's muscles tense and melt in your hold in less than a few seconds: you prepared him a warm bath to help him ease up his paranoia about “you avoiding him” and wash off that nauseous smell of liquor that was making you sick.

The water ripples underneath his body, circular little waves expand and dissolve among the warm water whenever he moves.

Letting the fragrance of the oils and the body wash hug his senses, filling his thoughts with your gentle hand scratching his scalp deliciously with the tip of your fingers and your idyllic voice that echoes through the bathroom walls he feels at peace.

He breathes in deeply every time, his toned chest rises and falls at a slow pace and the droplets of water kiss every inch of the skin for you, sliding down his muscles deliciously.

With his eyes gently closed and his silky, obsidian hair sticking to his forehead slightly, he looks like a greek god, just for you to be blessed with.

You can't help but sigh happily as his consciousness clears up with every passing minute: he starts to make more coherent sentences, talking to you about his week and complaining about his team that put his life in such a hectic frenzy for the upcoming race that he hardly had time to check up on you.

“The only way I thought I could see you was by taking advantage of this dinner: I mean, no one wants to deal with a drunk, complaining pain the ass before the race, yeah? They had to let me come here, I'm a genius!”

You love him for that.

The soft thuds that jog up the stairs are unmistakable: as Mikey reaches your room and opens the door, you are already waiting for him in the bed, keeping the sheets warm for him, and making a comforting nest for his arrival.

He insisted that you wait for him upstairs as he brushed his teeth and dressed up, claiming that he wasn't that tipsy to be looked out for like the big baby he is.

Let's give him credit for that, he was right.

His face seems to be sparking under the warm light of your abatjour, the freshness of his body reaches your nose more and more as he walks closer to the bed, inching towards your face so you can breathe in and taste the minty scent of his mouth onto yours with a sloppy kiss.

When your hand guides its way on his collarbone, tickling his damp skin with your palm, he wastes no time hovering over your frame completely and crushing his weight on top of you, making the soft mattress sink lower underneath your bodies.

Even if Mikey has always had a quite smaller frame compared to other guys, he never fails to knock the breath off your lungs when he catches you by surprise. He might have a thing for that small puff of air that leaves your chest unexpectedly, making you yelp in such a delightful tone… but he would never admit that out loud. Where would the fun be otherwise?

Snuggling against your body, you can feel the tip of his nose playfully rub against your cheek as he kisses your jaw with a small movement of his mouth, the softest flower petals caressing your tender skin graciously.

Useless to say that you'll sleep in that position for the whole night and you have no room to argue, not when your man starts to mindlessly mumble sweet nonsense under his breath and ask questions about your week until late that night.

Mikey's head is still a bit fuzzy, his senses don't connect down on earth fully due to the fragmentary memories of the embarrassing, confused events that happened that night tormenting his subconscious, but he doesn't care: as long as your voice lulls him to sleep, all his repressed pre-race anxieties melt away; every fear of having missed out on a big event of your life that week dissolves into thin air; every inch of the emptiness that your absence brought fills up gradually, leaving him giddy inside.

He doesn't deny it, Manjiro admits that he can be whiney, childish and reckless (idiotic actually): getting drunk and causing a scene at the restaurant, screaming at the waiter because he didn't receive a flag on his entrecôte and spilling the carafe of wine on the white table cloth in front of the team before falling from the chair wasn’t the best idea to get him to your house, especially since he's an emergent public figure in the motorcycle racing industry.

But, honestly, that's all worth it if he gets to spend time with you once again, babying him the way he deserves.

English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes!

This has been in my drafts for way too long, so I decided to finish it– I'm not that proud of the outcome but I hope it brought a smile on your face regardless!

Sending y'all hugs. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

©GOLDENGIRLIEZ do not repost or modify on any platform.

[beeing1alive]

Hello! Hello! Hope your doing well!! I wanted know if you could write how Tokyo revenger boys would react or do with the reader who's smoking, will they join the reader or something else??

Ty if you write it!! I really love your writing!! And take your time love<333 bye bye!

Note: hiii <3 Thank you for the wonderful message and the sweet support, I hope you are doing great too and you like it

He also smokes, so he sees no problem in smoking with you. In fact, he really enjoys sitting on the balcony with you, watching the sunset and smoking a cigarette or two together. Even in winter, it's nice not having to stand outside in the cold alone all the time, but having the person you love with you. Then he always presses his chest against your back from behind and wraps his jacket around you so that you can keep each other warm

Hanma, Kazutora, Ran, Baji, Iunpi, Taiju

He is not a smoker, but would like to give it a try. If he likes it, he won't become a chain smoker, but he will definitely sit down with you and sometimes take a pull or two from your cigarette. Even if he doesn't like it himself, he won't stop you from smoking and will sometimes sit with you and keep you company. In the end, it's your decision and he trusts your own sense.

Darken, Mitsuya, Kisaki, Smiley, Koko, Rindou

He's absolutely not a fan of smoking himself and has also tried to stop you. But in the end he has to realise that it's your decision and he has to accept it. He just doesn't want you to get sick, he couldn't bear to lose you. Of course he still loves you just as much as he would if you didn't smoke, he's just very worried about you. And, he won't admit it, but you look incredibly hot when you smoke.

Chifuyu, Hakkai, Souya, Mikey, Kakucho, Naoto

I also wrote other scenarios for them and other characters, so here is my masterlist if you want to check it out <3

My request are open, so if you want to request something, just feel free to leave a comment or send me an request, love you all, have a nice day/night :3

Attention: The characters and the gif do not belong to me. All credits go to the actual owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please write to me.

[thebearer]

fall into me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: part 2 of follow me. your date with carmen.

contains: fluff. anxious carmen. mentions of mikey. but all fluff :)

Carmen was sure he was going to be sick. A new kind of sickness, where his stomach felt like it was going to fall out of his mouth and ass at the same time. He changed his outfit six times, slacks and a tie felt too formal. Jeans felt out of the question, and while the very cool guy on TikTok swore that slacks and t-shirts were in this season… Carmen couldn’t bring himself to wear it. 

So he wore his slacks, good shoes he still had from pretentious meetings in the restaurant, and his good button down, a steely type blue- the saleswoman told him it really complimented his eyes, then wrote her number on his receipt. Of course, Carmen didn’t call it. He’d never allow himself the simple pleasures like that. 

Carmen smoked the whole way to the restaurant, a bottle of cologne in his pocket, which he doused himself in on the corner, popping a mint. He saw you standing there, awkwardly on your phone by the light pole, head ducked to your screen in your black, silk, cowl neck dress. Carmen could feel his heart jump at the sight of you, cursing while he started to jog in the still new shoes. 

“Hey, shit, sorry.” Carmen apologized, his chest tightening and burning as he slowed in front of you. “I-I couldn’t find my phone.” Definitely not because I tried on a million different outfits and had a panic attack.

“Ah, so that’s why you didn’t text me back. Thought you ghosted me at your own restaurant.” You quipped, his heart plummeting, face falling with it. You grinned, shoving your phone in your tiny purse. “‘M fucking with you, Carm. I just got here.” 

“Oh,” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, good. That-That’s good. Do you want to go in?” 

“Sure.” You giggled. “After you, Chef.” 

“C’mon.” Carmen laughed lightly, shaking his head, hoping it would hide his burning cheeks. You were ahead of him, reaching for the door, his heart skipping when he saw it. “I got it!” 

You drew your hand back, looking at him carefully. The blush in his cheeks spread down to his neck. “I-I got it, let me get it.” Carmen nodded, pulling the handle. You glided past him, his hand ghosting on the small of your back, leaving you shuddering under his touch. It was casual, you doubted he even knew he did it, just a slight usher while he followed you in. 

“It’s so different being here at night.” You whispered to him, your arm brushing his while you walked to the hostess station. 

Carmen nodded. “I know, it’s, uh, it’s nice to see it like this, ya know?” He muttered. “See it from a customer’s perspective.” 

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” You asked, your head tilting to the side softly. “Why we’re kinda doing this?” 

Carmen’s heart fell, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He could feel his own mind racing. Of course, you didn’t think this was a date. Why would you ever want to be on a date with him?

“I mean, yeah, sorta. Here f’you too. To thank you for everything.” Carmen nodded, eyes cutting to yours. Fuck, he knew he needed to look at you, he wanted to look at you, but it was so fuckin’ hard. When you looked so pretty, so effortlessly calm and cool. It made him fluster. 

“C’mon, Carm. You hired me, paid me. And you guys have been so nice. Most places are… horrible. Act like I’m bothering them when they hired me. You’ve got a good place, great staff. I’m glad you wanted me to be a part of it for a while.” You smiled, stepping up to the hostess station.

Carmen could feel his heart squeeze, an uncomfortably tight realization that this would be the last time he saw you. He’d been running numbers all night, seeing where he could take cuts so he could keep you, but even then, you’d be gone for at least another two months since you already took another job. By then, whatever you had here, would be gone. 

“Ah, there you are, the VIP customers for the night.” Richie schmoozed, sliding behind the hostess stand. 

You grinned, Carmen’s eyes downcast making Richie’s jaw tick. “How are you two this evening?”

“Great.” You beamed. “Excited to try this place. I’ve never been here before. Heard it’s the best in Chicago.” You nudged Carmen playfully with your hip, grinning at him. 

He gave you a tight lipped smile, hands by his side, trying to nonchalantly wipe his hands on his slacks. Richie smiled at you, glaring lightly at Carmen. “Well, you heard right, sweetheart. We want your night to be extra special, so we have this booth back here just for the two of you.” 

“Hey, Syd,” Tina muttered, looking up from her plating to see your head pass with Carmen’s curly locks. “They’re here.” 

“Shit, are they?” Sydney turned, looking through the window. “God, Carmen looks like he’s about to pass out.” 

“Fuck, he does, doesn’t he?” Sugar huffed, her hands on her hips. 

Richie caught Sugar’s eye through the window, a flickering glance that told her exactly what she needed to know. “So, I will have the focaccia out for the two of you shortly. Can I start you off with anything to drink?” 

“‘M good.” Carmen muttered, taking the leather bound menu into his hands, knee bouncing under the table. 

You looked a little uncomfortable, eyes cutting to Carmen’s before a moment of hesitation flashed over your face. “Uh, I’ll take a glass of whatever you think would pair best with the meal?” 

“Perfect. I’ll have that out.” Richie smiled, hoping his silent screams at Carmen would be enough for him to catch on. Fak passed, slipping a piece of paper in Richie’s hand. Richie stepped away, reading Sugar’s scribbled writing: “GET CARMEN BACK HERE NOW!!!!” 

“Excuse me, folks,” Richie greeted apologetically, though the two of you weren’t talking. “Carmen, I hate to do this, but I need you just for a second, ok?” 

Carmen nodded, sliding out of the booth without so much as looking at you. Richie fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’ll just be a second. That focaccia and riesling are on the way.” Richie grinned at you, stepping beside Carmen. 

“What’s goin’ on? Did we run out of-” 

“-No, you fuckin’ moron.” Richie huffed, letting the door slam shut. “The fuck is your problem, huh? You’re not even- hey, send that to six with the Cakebread white, ok?- You’re not even looking at her, c’mon, Cousin.” 

Carmen blushed, running a hand through his hair. “What? I-I’m talkin’ to her-” 

“-No, you’re not.” Sugar snapped, rounding the corner. “You look like an ass, Carmy. You’re on a date with her and-” 

“-It’s not a date.” Carmen shook his head, brushing it off. 

Sugar blinked. “You’re on a date with her,” She repeated, her tone firmer- a mom tone she’d adapted since working here that would help with the baby. “And you’re acting like a total-total…” Sugar waved her hands, stuttering over the word. 

“Jagoff.” Neil added, passing through the kitchen for a moment before going out the doors. 

“Thank you! Yes! A total jagoff.” Sugar glared at Carmen. 

“I-I don’t even think she thinks it’s a date-” 

The kitchen erupted in groans, shouting at him irritatedly. “Look at how she’s dressed. If she thought this was a free meal ticket, she wouldn’t wear that. That is a date night dress.” 

“That’s true.” Sydney added. 

Carmen couldn’t help the way his heart flipped with excitement, looking out the window at you, sitting at the table, nursing your wine slowly- alone. 

“Cousin, c’mere,” Richie motioned him, leading him towards the office. “Look, I get you got this whole ‘I deserve nothing good’ doom and gloom attitude, but that right there. That’s good.” Richie jabbed his finger towards the door. “I see you, ok? You guys got that cute little texting thing goin’ on, alright?” 

Carmen stilled. He felt like a teenager again, being teased and tormented by Mikey and Richie about a crush he had. How the fuck did he know about your texting? “Look, if you let her go tonight without even trying, you’re gonna regret it. You only got one chance, cousin, do not miss your chance to blow.” Richie said seriously. 

“Don’t fuckin’ quote Eminem to me right now-” 

“-Alright, alright, but seriously?” Richie nodded into the office, the tiny frame that held Mikey’s note ‘Let it rip!’. Carmen felt his stomach turn, guilt trilling in it. He knew Richie was right and that fact alone made him queasy. “Listen to Mikey, alright? You can have good shit in your life.” 

Carmen looked at the photo, taking a grounding breath, Mikey’s voice ringing loud in his ears. “Let it rip.” Carmen muttered, pushing past the double doors back to you. 

“Oh, no way!” You laughed. “You don’t have TikTok?” 

“No, no. Don’t have time for it.” Carmen shrugged, sipping his water. 

“Then how do you watch our videos?” You asked, brow raising in question. 

“I click the link you send me and it opens up just on my Google or whatever.” Carmen grinned, shrugging lightly, popping another truffle fry in his mouth. He’d nearly fallen over when you asked for ranch, teasing you lightly. You’d only shrugged, sticking one in your mouth, declaring it would taste better with ranch. You were kidding, of course, it was perfect. 

“Wow.” You smirked, finger tracing around the rim. “You’re missing out. It’s addictive.” 

“Yeah? It’s weird too.” Carmen snorted lightly. 

“Says you! You’re Mr. TikTok Famous and you don’t even know it.” You pushed his arm lightly, trying not to gawk at how firm his biceps were. Sure, you’d definitely seen them while he was working, but… they felt better than they looked. “Should see how you’ve got everyone in a tizzy. Chopping onions and marinating wagyu.” 

Carmen laughed, cheeks reddening at the compliment. “Yeah, those comments were…shocking.” 

“You think?” You cocked your head to the side. “I thought they were pretty normal.” 

“Half of them were asking me to violently punch them.” Carmen laughed, eyes widening at you. 

“Well, can you blame them?” You grinned, leaning in closer. “You got nice hands. Of course, they’re going feral. I knew what I was doing with that shot. Giving the people what they want.” 

Carmen blushed furiously, hoping you couldn’t see under the low light of the restaurant. “Nah, c’mon.” He looked down at his fingers, etched with tattoos. 

“You c’mon.” You grinned, reaching out a little daringly to trace a finger over his veins. You’d blame the wine for your boldness, but Carmen shivered under your touch. “You’ve got hot hands. No wonder they all go so crazy. You’re a pretty chef with good hands.” 

Carmen knew you had to see his blush now, sure his body temperature went up ten degrees, heart beating so bad in his chest he was sure he wasn’t going to make it another course. “Uh,” Carmen laughed, running his free hand over his mouth, hoping to hide some of his grin. He didn’t dare move his hand from his. “Well, thanks, I guess. I, um, I wanna say I think the same.” 

You lifted a brow, biting back a laugh when he stuttered, his eyes widening. Your giggles were infectious to him, a stream of his own nervous laugh spilling out of his throat. “No, I-I meant- fuck, I meant… I, uh, I think you’re pretty.” 

There was a pause, your own teeth pulling in your lip, grinning shyly at him. “Really?” You asked. You felt like you were in junior high again, finding out the boy on the JV team like liked you. It was giddy, the feeling in your chest. Warm, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Yeah.” Carmen nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Beautiful, really.” 

“Well, thank you.” You grinned, hoping to hide your smile behind your own glass of wine. Fak came by, dropping your next course off, a temporary relief for the moment, letting the two of you get yourselves together. 

“You think he’ll do it?” Sugar asked, pretending to roll silverware while Richie handed them to her. A meaningless job that just so happened to be by the window, so they could see the two of you. 

“I dunno. Could go either way.” Richie sucked in a breath. “He seems to be close, ya know? Think he has it in him to do it, just… fuck, I hope he does.” 

“Me too.” Sugar sighed. “Can you hear what they’re saying? It looks… nice? So that’s gotta be good, right?” 

“Yeah, hopefully…” Richie hummed, squinting to try and make out the words you were whispering to each other. The two of you were pressed together, migrated together as the meal went on until you were huddled, like it was the two of you. 

“I really don’t want you to leave.” Carmen admitted, body pressed to yours, hand in yours in the dim light of the booth. Everyone had left, all the patrons shuffled out and escorted to their cars. Some of the kitchen staff went home, but some stayed, pretending to be extra tedious with their cleanup so they could see the two of you. 

“I know. I’m having such a good time with you.” You agreed, tilting your chin up to look at him, lashes batting, eyes a little glossy from the wine. 

“No- I mean, yeah I-I’m having a good time with you, too. But I meant… leave forever.” Carmen admitted, the lump in his throat growing more and more with each word. “I really liked having you here.” 

“I liked being here.” You hummed, tongue running over your bottom lip lightly. “It was a lot of fun. I liked spending time with you.” 

“Yeah? I liked spending time with you too. A lot.” Carmen admitted. “And I… I want to keep spending time with you?” It came out more as a question, all hopeful eyes and a rounded gaze. “If-If you want to-” 

“-Yeah.” You grinned. “I wanna keep spending time with you. I like being with you, Carmen.” 

“Yeah? Really?” Camren was half convinced he was hallucinating. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “If you wanna spend some more time with me too. I’d like to get to know you more, and not to just write a staff spotlight on.” You giggled, his lips curling at the sound. “To, like, really get to know you.” 

“I would… yeah, I’d like that. Like to get to know you too.” Carmen nodded. 

There was a pause, the tension between the two of you was thick. Your eyes darted from his lips back to his eyes, already leaning closer. Carmen could feel his stomach lurch with nerves, Mikey’s voice ringing over and over and over. 

Let it fuckin’ rip, Carmen thought before he moved in, lips on yours. His hands were clammy cradling your jaw but you didn’t seem to mind, your own arms snaking their way around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. 

“Holy shit!” Richie gasped, dropping the fork. “Look! Fuckin’ look!” 

The staff clambered around to huddle by the window, watching the two of you kiss, pulling apart with small smiles, before going back in. Carmen’s hands sliding down your back, your arms, your waist- fuck, he just loved feeling you like this, and he hadn’t even felt all of you. Yet. 

“He fuckin’ did it.” Richie grinned, awing at Carmen. “Hey, Sug, might be a bad time, but I believe I’m owed fifty dollars.” 

You pulled apart, grinning at Carmen, still huddled close together, his hands rubbing the silk fabric of your dress, your sliding through the curls on the nape of his neck. Your mind was dizzy, the rush of adrenaline, emotion, and buzzing from the wine. 

“What’re you doin’ tomorrow?” Carmen asked. 

“Nothing.” You hummed. “Why? You’ve got something in mind?” 

“Not-Not right now, actually.” Carmen admitted with a small laugh. “But I’d love to do something with you.” 

“Me too.” You smiled. 

Carmen looked around, catching his staff standing in the window, rolling his eyes when they darted after he caught them, scampering in different directions. “Um, it’s gettin’ kinda late.” Carmen looked at you, fingers drumming on his thigh- that was still touching yours. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, looking at your phone. “I guess I should go, and I’ll, um, I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

Carmen nodded, sliding out of the booth then offering his hand to help you. “Did you walk here?” 

“No, I took the L.” You walked towards the door beside him. It was quiet, the soft hum from the kitchen, the muffled clatters of pots and pans being put away. 

“Me too. I’ll ride back with you?” Carmen offered. 

“I thought you lived like three blocks away?” You giggled, tilting your head to the side. “And I’m in the opposite direction.” 

“Yeah, I-I do.” Carmen nodded. “I just… You shouldn’t ride alone at night, ya know? Shit could happen and… I don’t want it to. To happen to you.” 

You could feel the heat flushing through your cheeks, through your chest. You laughed lightly. “Is this your way of trying to come home with me?” You lifted a brow playfully. 

“No! No.” Carmen shook his head, flustered, which made you laugh harder. 

“I’m kidding, Carm.” You giggle, reassuring him. “But… if you wanted to come stay the night. Since it’s late… and you’re insisting on coming with me on the L.” 

“I don’t wanna make-make it weird, or come off like that. I-I really am… I like you.” Carmen stuttered. Fuck, there was nothing more tempting than that invite, but Carmen didn’t want to fuck this up. He really didn’t want to fuck this up. 

“I mean, stay over so we can talk more.” You gave him a pointed look. “We were having a good conversation. Weren’t we?” 

“Yeah, no, yeah. Yeah, we were.” Carmen stuttered, hand on the door, twisting the lock though his eyes never left yours. 

“So… You want to come over then? Finish telling me about Copenhagen? Please?” And how could Carmen say no, his head spinning with excitement when he walked out behind you, letting the door fall shut, your arm looping around his while you walked towards the L. 

Richie ran to the front, pushing the door open with Sugar and Tina, watching the two of you walk towards the station. “Good job, Cousin.” Richie muttered. 

[bullet-prooflove]

Pears: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @wabi-sabi1090 @lostinwonderland314 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219

Prequel to:

Bubble

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW)

Ironically the hellhole that’s stealing Carmen’s fucking soul is the place he falls in love with you. He’s been trying to source cheap organic produce for The Beef ever since he came back to Chicago and he’d found this eco-friendly little urban farm not too far away from the restaurant that’s willing to sell him their seasonal overflow for  next to nothing. It’s a win win because you deplore wastage and he needs the discount.

When you arrive at the back door with his order he has no fucking clue why you’re here because it’s late Christmas Eve and everyone else in the world is sending time with their families. Instead you’re standing in front of him, bundled up in a navy blue hat with a pompom with a matching scarf over your white quilted jacket.

“Christ, get in here.” He says tugging you inside because it’s minus who the fuck knows outside and he’s terrified you’ll freeze to death. “Why the fuck are you out in this? You should be tucked up somewhere warm with your family.”

“Because you asked me to asshole.” You reply, tugging off your hat so that your hair falls loose across your rosy features. “You called me up at stupid o'clock because you wanted pears for some seasonal shit you were trying out.”

“Shit.” He says, taking the box from you, because honestly he thought he dreamt that but now he realises he had another dissociative episode. They’ve starting to happen more and more recently since Mikey’s death. He wakes up and he finds himself doing weird shit, cooking plastic, re-organising the tins in his cupboard so they all face backwards, sorting his recycling into colours.

“Now we’ve ascertained why I’m here.” You say, stripping the gloves from your hands and tucking them into the pockets of your coat. “What are you doing here?”

“Christmas isn’t…” He hesitates because he’s thrown back into that last event, the one where Mikey was still alive, clutching that fork and his mother drove a car through the house. He doesn’t know how to explain something like that to you, someone who’s family isn’t as fucked up and dysfunctional as his is.

“I get it.” You say, your hand coming to rest on his arm and he finds himself staring down at it as your thumb traces lightly over the tattoo that’s etched onto his skin. “Christmas isn’t a great time for me either.”

He can’t remember the last time that someone touched him like this, with such care, such gentleness. Richie’s always clapping a hand on his shoulder, shifting him out of the way but it never feels like this. It doesn’t ignite something in his veins the way that yours does, it doesn’t sent a rush of heat flooding through his system.

“You wanna stay?” He asks you, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “I’m about to make hot pear cider.”

You have such beautiful eyes, he’s never really noticed until now despite the fact he’s been in your company a handful of times. It’s a brilliant, rich hue that leaves him completely captivated as the edges of your mouth tip up into a smile. His heart palpitates in this chest because that smile, it makes something blossom inside of him, something that Carmen has never felt before in his entire life.

“That depends.” You say, your thumb trailing over the scar that resides alongside his tattoo. “Are you going to feed me too?”

“I’d cook you anything you damn well want.” He finds himself telling you before he captures himself, his cheeks flushing at the boldness of his words.

“Surprise me.” You say and he surprises you both by leaning and kissing you instead.

Your lips feel soft underneath his mouth, he can taste the strawberry lip balm, feel the press of your body against his as your fingers thread through his hair drawing him closer. He moans at the sensation because it’s been such a long time since he’s touched another human being like this and you, you make it feel like his entire body is on fire, like he’s burning from the inside out.

“Fuck, I’m sorry…” He says as he tries to pull away because he shouldn’t have done that, he knows he shouldn’t.

Your hands grip the fabric of his chef’s jacket, pulling him back towards you and he complies because this sensation he has, he wants to chase it, he wants to see where it goes, to hurtle head first into it.

“Don’t be.” You murmur, your fingertips ghosting along his cheek with a tenderness he doesn’t deserve. “We should do it again Carmy.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[fishfooddude]

Yes I Would

Part 2 of the Worm series!

Technically, I'm not done with finals, and this is probably gonna be a four-part series because it got hella long...

The Bear MasterList

Directory

Part 1

“Carmen, it’s 2 AM. Why did I need to come out here?” Richie yawned as he sat on a stool by the bartop next to Carmy. He didn’t respond to the question. Richie shot him a look, “Kid. What’s going on?” 

“Y/N’s pregnant.” Carmy softly responded as he brought his beer bottle to his lips. 

Richie sat up, dumbfounded by his response. “You knocked her up? Didn’t realize your balls dropped already.” 

Richie’s attempt at lightening the situation made Carmy roll his eyes. “Fuck off, Richard.” 

“Nah, cousin. That’s great. She’s a good girl. I figured you’d settle down with her at one point… maybe sooner than anyone expected, but that’s great.” Richie rambled, “One time- you were like two, so I doubt you remember, Mike and I were throwing beer caps at you-”

“She doesn’t want it, Richie,” Carmy said, cutting Richie off mid-sentence. He stared at the ceiling as he spoke. 

“Please say something, Carmy…” your voice was shaky as you spoke. Carmy clicked his tongue as he pushed his hands through his hair. He nervously laughed as he looked up at the ceiling. “Carmy?”

“Okay… okay. Is this a discussion?” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re tellin’ me you’re pregnant and that you don’t want it in the same fuckin’ sentence, Y/N. Why are you even fuckin’ tellin’ me if you don’t fuckin’ want it?” 

You stared at him, dumbfounded by his reaction. “Carmy, we’ve only been together for eight months-”

“So?” Carmy scoffed, “I love you. Would it be the end of the world if you had my kid?” 

“Carmen,” you scolded, “Are you seriously equating our love for each other to my willingness to have a baby with you?!”

“Babies aren’t always planned but-”

“Carmen! It’s my fuckin’ body!” you yelled, cutting him off. “Just- just get out.”

“So yeah… not sure what to do…” Carmy mumbled as he fiddled with his napkin. 

Richie sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He remembered when Tiff told him she was pregnant with Eva, granted it was planned, and the two had been married for a decade. Richie didn’t know what to say to Carmy. He just sat beside Carmy and remembered when he was five or six. Mikey was in charge of watching him while he played in the yard that afternoon. 

Richie and Mikey were sitting on the porch steps talking about something that had happened at school a few days prior when Carmy came running up to the pair with a rock in his hands. “L-l-look Mikey! I-I fou-und a rock!” Carmy excitedly stuttered. His eyes gleamed with excitement. Richie watched as Mikey went to ruffle Carmy’s hair and took the rock from his hands, “That’s a cool one, Carmy. Find another, yeah?” Mikey encouraged. Carmy nodded and ran off to a different part of the yard. 

Richie leaned an elbow against the bar, supporting his head in his palm. He looked at Carmy. He remembered all the times he and Mikey had been able to make him feel better. He remembered when they had to take Carmy to the emergency room when he was eight and broke his arm when he fell from a tree. He remembered when he and Mikey would go to his wrestling meets. He remembered shoving him in the closet and refusing to let him out until he admitted to having a crush on some girl in his class when he was in high school. He remembered watching him sheepishly walk across the stage when he graduated high school and watched Mikey sneak cash into his backpack when they dropped him off at the airport when Carmy left for culinary school. Carmy was more than his best friend's little brother. He helped raise that kid. 

“Sometimes, you have to fight for what you want,” Richie said, finally breaking his silence. Carmy looked up at him, “You can’t make her have the baby, but you can’t walk away without a fight, Carm.”

Carmy scoffed at the advice, “Richie- She kicked me out of her place when I tried talking to her about it. She doesn’t want to keep the baby, and I don’t think I can support-”

“Shut the fuck up, Carmen.” Richie cut him off. He shifted in his seat to face Carmy. “You were man enough to have sex with her. You need to be man enough to stand beside her and support whatever decision she makes. Abortion, no abortion, having the baby and giving it up for adoption, keeping the baby and staying with you, whatever that girl chooses; you give it your 100%.” 

Carmy grimaced at the advice Richie had given him, “Sober up. Go see your girl.”

~

Carmy didn’t take Richie’s advice. That night, he went back to his place and kicked his shoes off after locking the door behind himself. He stumbled as he headed into his bedroom. As he collapsed onto his bed, he was engulfed by the lingering smell of your perfume. Carmy rolled his body into the middle of his bed and stared at the ceiling; you should be here. 

He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, but he woke up in a cold sweat. He abruptly sat up and looked to his left to see your absence. Carmy closed his eyes and leaned back against his headboard. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before leaning over to grab his phone from his side table. 

No new text messages. No missed calls.

You always texted him ‘good morning’ when you weren’t together. Carmy huffed and dropped his phone before gazing back at the ceiling.

You woke up that morning and resisted the urge to contact Carmy. It felt wrong, but with how telling him you were pregnant had ended, some distance felt like a good idea. After getting out of bed that morning, you walked into the bathroom to shower before going to the office.

As you waited for the water to heat up, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. If you hadn’t done that blood test, you wouldn’t know you were pregnant. You put a hand on your stomach and felt it twist. Maybe Carmy had a point. Babies aren’t always- “Snap the fuck out of it, Y/N.” you scolded yourself as you tried to shake the thought of keeping it. “You are not, I repeat, NOT, ready to be a fuckin’ mother.” you thought aloud. You stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over your face, “Just forget about it today…” you mumbled as you quickly scrubbed yourself down with body wash.

You couldn’t focus at work that day. Everything made you think about Carmy. As you reached to grab your phone from your bag, there was a knock on your office door. “Come in,” you called, dropping your phone back into your bag. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, I have good news for you.” Your manager smiled as he entered your office. You shot him a suspicious look. “I swear it’s good news,” he said defensively, putting his hands up. We’re opening another new office in New York, and YOU are going to be in charge of it—if you want to, of course. Imagine Houston, but permanent. You’ll get a raise and housing allowance and set the whole office up however you want- your ship.” 

You were speechless, “Ryan, I-I-”

“Y/N. Take the job. Do you want to be someone in the writing and editing world? New York is where you do it. Please, just think about it. I need an answer by the end of the month.” 

~

“You talk to her?” Richie asked without looking up from his notebook. Carmy huffed in response as he pulled his chef jacket from his locker.

“No.” 

“Why not?” Richie snapped, putting his notebook on the locker area bench. 

Carmy sighed, “I don’t know what to say to her.”

“Carmen. If you’re man enough-”

“Richie, I don’t want to talk about this here.” Carmy cut him off and put his phone in his locker before walking to the kitchen. Richie rolled his eyes and pulled his phone from his pocket. If Carmy wouldn’t do anything about this, he knew some people who would. 

“CARMEN ANTHONY BERZATTO!” a blood-curdling scream came through the kitchen in the middle of dinner service. Carmy dropped his knife mid-cut and turned to see Donna standing just inside the kitchen, the swinging doors that separated the dining room from the kitchen still swinging. “I fuckin’ raised you better than this young man!” she screamed as she stomped closer to where Carmy had been cooking. Waiters and line cooks separated like the red sea as she grabbed Carmy’s bicep and pulled him through the kitchen toward the back entrance. 

“Ma- what the fuck?!” Carmy finally yelled back when the two were in the alley. 

“Why did I find out you got your little girlfriend pregnant from Heather Jerimovich?” she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest as she tapped her foot impatiently. Carmy sucked in a breath as Donna glared at him. “Well?!”

“Uh-uh-” Carmy started as he pushed up the sleeves of his chef coat; he was lost for words. He never expressly told Richie to keep all of this to himself, but the implication was there. 

“Carmen. Anthony. Berzatto. Answer me. Now.” Donna snarled as her glare intensified. Carmy breathed out and pushed his hands through his hair as he thought about explaining this situation to the mother, who hadn’t really cared about him for most of his life. 

“She doesn’t know if she wants to keep it…” Carmy answered softly, unable to look at her as he explained, “Ma- she wants to abort my kid. Okay?” Carmy’s voice trembled as he pushed his hands into his pockets and stared at his kitchen clogs. 

“What?” Donna’s voice softened as she watched Carmy shrink as he spoke. Donna knew she hadn’t been the most attentive mother but knew when her son needed her. “Com’er,” she spoke, opening her arms and beckoning Carmy for a hug. Carmy sighed and stepped into the hug, resting his forehead on her shoulder. She hugged him tightly and began rubbing gentle circles on his back. “It’s gonna be okay..”

~

You were lying in bed staring at the ceiling when you heard knocking on your door. It was almost two, and you weren’t expecting anyone—it had to be Carmy. “You can do this, Y/N… you can do this.” You hyped yourself up as you got out of bed, wrapping your comforter around you as you walked through your apartment to the front door. 

“Hey..” you said softly when you opened the door just a sliver.

“Can I come in?” Carmy asked. You felt yourself melt when your eyes met his. He was tired, and you saw the undertones of hurt and admiration as he stared back at you. You nodded and opened the door more, moving to the side to allow Carmy into your apartment. 

“I know- I know I can’t tell you want to-to do with your body.” Carmy started as soon as you’d closed the door. “Pl-please. Can we talk about the baby?” his voice cracked as he spoke. You adjusted your comforter on your shoulders as you nudged your head toward the couch.

The two of you sat on the couch awkwardly. You took a deep breath before you spoke, “Carmy… I couldn’t do it…” you tenderly spoke as you wrapped your comforter around yourself tighter. “I uh- they had to confirm I was pregnant and uh- they did, they did a sonogram… the heartbeat sounded like a horse running. I never thought I’d be one of those women, you know? I was sure I would go through with it, but when I heard the heartbeat… it was so beautiful.” you confessed. “You were saying how sometimes babies aren’t planned-”

Carmy’s sob was what cut you off midsentance. You looked up at him, and he silently reached for you. You moved closer and allowed him to pull you into his lap. “We're gonna have a baby,” Carmy murmured as he rested his forehead against yours. You grinned and pushed your fingers into Carmy’s hair.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” you confirmed, “We’re gonna have a baby…”

Part 3