#and it’s the shot of him getting her the chef coat

[sydneyscarm]

everytime i hear area codes (by kaliii) i think of sydcarmy. like it’s scripture it’s prophecy idk guys. wish i knew how to edit cause i would be all up in that bitch

[sc0tters]

Game Night | Quinn Hughes

summary: when you and Quinn have the lake house to yourself he comes up with the perfect way to turn pool into an interesting game.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, p in v, unprotected sex, swearing, oral (fem receiving!), semi-proof read.

word count: 3.48k

authors note: from the moment I got this request I knew I had to write it cause I had been thinking about it the all day… low-key edited your request but that’s only because once I thought about strip pool it was the only thing I could think of. I know I got the whole two shot rule wrong but let’s be real here, you aren’t reading this to learn about pool.

This was meant to be the weekend before the storm hit.

Quinn had convinced you to join him at the lake house days before the rest of the boys joined you two.

The lake house wasn’t uncharted territory for you. Quinn met you the day he moved to Vancouver, the interaction was short at first but when you ended it reminding him that he was always welcome over so you could show him your favourite takeaway places in the city.

It didn’t take long for you two to become friends but once it happened you were quickly sent into a spiral that catapulted the friendship to the best friend category. Ellen met you during one of her many trips to the Canadian city when she was checking up on her son, it made her smile how you were the only thing that Quinn would talk about.

When she encouraged him to bring you back to the lake house it made Quinn feel at ease how you seemed to slip right into the family dynamics, by the third day of you being the Jim even let you be his second chef at the barbecue, something he didn’t even let his own wife do.

Somehow throughout all of the years of friendship you two never crossed the line that went over to the romantic side of things. Sure people swore you did, the way his hand always found its way around your lap or how your favourite seat seemed to be his lap. But you two swore that it was always friendly, now that didn’t mean that the thought of Quinn’s head between your legs didn’t cross your mind during those lonely night when you had nothing more than the help of your vibrator. Yet you managed to keep Quinn unaware of the fact that he was your new favourite thought to get off to “you good?” He snapped his fingers in front of your face as you zoned out.

You were quick to shake your head as a crimson coat spread across your cheeks “I-I’m great.” You stuttered as you nodded quickly getting up to get yourself another drink.

Unaware of the arousal that formed between your thighs, Quinn followed you “I was thinking we should play some pool to end the night?” He proposed as he leaned against the frame of the door flexing his biceps as he crossed his arms.

You took a gulp of your seltzer letting the fruity liquid hit the back of your throat “you seriously want to play? You furrowed your eyebrows knowing that when the boys arrived pool and table tennis would be two of the only activities you’d do as a group inside.

It made him chuckle “thought we could play with a twist.” Quinn shrugged with a devilish smirk that spread across his face.

Something told you to hear him out as curiosity got the best of you “I’m listening,” you batted your eyelashes as you looked up at him “remember strip poker?”

That was a time of your life when you brought Quinn along to the last college party you went to as the frat boys thought it was a smart idea to play strip poker “I’m going to stop you right there.” You cut him off drawing a groan from his lips.

The Canucks player as he thought it was a good way to spice the evening up “you think you’re gonna lose?” Quinn teased knowing that he was pressing your competitive buttons.

A scoff left your lips “you’re on Hughesy.” You pointed your finger at him before you pushed past him making sure that you were in the pool room first.

Whilst Quinn had lost his hat and shoes you had lost your socks and both your bracelet and necklace to the game. Meaning that each of you were going to have to start removing actual clothes for the next balls “what are you thinking of going with?” Quinn smirked as he looked up to you once he potted in his fifth ball into the hole that was in front of you.

You rolled your eyes as you let your pool stick rest against the wall “don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted me to take off first.” You mumbled to yourself as you pulled your shirt over your head revealing the sky blue bra that you were wearing.

He didn’t mean to stare, truly that wasn’t his plan. But it felt wrong to Quinn to let you show off such a stunning bra that made your boobs look like they were the only things in this world to not have them be appreciated.

Your hair was tucked behind your ears letting him truly get the perfect view of them when you reached forward for your stick “I’ll be nice and let you pick which one I should pot next.” You proposed as you placed your other hand on your hip “orange,” he pointed to the easiest ball for you to get in as it was right in front of the hole.

It made you laugh “something tells me that you want me to see you all shirtless,” you raised your eyebrows as he nodded.

The grin he sent you was toothy “been told that my chest is my best feature,” your face scrunched at the thought of the time you had seen him after an adventurous night with a girl. His chest looked like it had stripes for a week “better get stripping then.” You smirked as you got the ball in with ease.

This was how the game continued on with the clearly flirtatious banter until you were each left in nothing more than your underwear or at least that was until Quinn got the last of his regular balls in “no wolf whistles,” you joked as you reached behind your back to unclimbed your bra.

Quinn swore he forgot how to breathe as he watched the blue straps fall from your arms letting him get the perfect view of your perky breasts. What truly surprised him though was the titanium bar you had pierced through one of your nipples “could have counted that as a piece of jewellery.” He pointed out as he motioned to it attempting to ignore the way his mouth watered at the thought of tasting it.

You smiled as you placed your hand on your chest by your collar bones “where would the fun be in that?” You asked as your tongue darted over your lips watching him get the first double turn of the game as it seemed to be a stupid rule that the Hughes family played with.

He had to admit that it was hard trying to focus on the ball whilst you were stood there running your fingers over the side of your waist in nothing more than some little white thong that looked like it shouldn’t have even been described as underwear there was so little fabric.

In that moment he swore that the universe was on his side as he had hit the wrong side of the ball but the black ball still dropped into a pot with the white ball hanging dangerously close to the edge with it stopped. You took your loss like a champ hooking your fingers into the sides of your panties “I wanna get my prize myself.” The beer in Quinn gave him that boost of confidence “come and get it then,” you smirked crossing your arms just below your breasts as you pushed them up.

It didn’t take him long as his strides were large “you better not be fucking with me,” he warned when his hands replaced yours in the waistband of your thong.

The air between you two was heavy as even a knife wouldn’t have been able to cut this “it’s all for your taking Quinny.” The mumble of your voiced sounded like heaven to him as Quinn helped you out of the white undergarment groaning when his eyes landed on the wet patch that had formed where your core sat “you seeing how much I enjoyed that?” You asked as he looked back up at you.

Your thong was quickly thrown onto the ground so that his hands could go to your waist “cause it looks like you felt the same.” Your hand moved between the two of you so that you could cup his balls as you began to palm his bones through his boxers.

Quinn’s head landed on your shoulder as he thought his legs were going to give out “fuck don’t stop,” he begged as you clicked your tongue “gonna need to get that final ball in to remove those boxers.” You teased with a grin evident on your face.

On the other hand it made Quinn annoyed “happy?” He asked as he dropped your blue ball into the pot next to him “ecstatic,” you leaned forward to kiss him.

His beer mixed with the taste of your berry seltzer as you moaned when Quinn pushed you against pool table letting your ass met the cool wood.

He loved how you tasted, sure you had never crossed this line but that didn’t mean that the thought never crossed his mind “fuck you’re so hot,” Quinn confessed as he pulled away feeling your fingers crawl under the waist band on his boxers.

A giggle left your lips “thinking you enjoyed this more than me.” You teased pointed down to what now looked like a painfully hard boner “could see you like this all the time.” Quinn announced as his lips moved down to your neck so he could nip that the parts of your body continuing to show that part of your chest love until he got to your pierced nipple “saw how much you liked this.” Your voice was soft as you felt vulnerable watching him stare at the piece of jewellery.

When his lips wrapped around it you seriously thought you were going to fall onto the table behind you “dear god,” your nails went to the nape of his neck when Quinn brought his hand to your other nipple so it wouldn’t feel left out.

The round texture of the balls that were attached to the bar made Quinn groan as each whimper than left your lips every time he hit it went straight to his cock “I need more Quinny, please.” It was now your turn to beg as you didn’t think that you were about to last much longer.

It made him smirk as he removed his lips from your nipple with a pop “so fucking pretty for me baby,” Quinn mumbled as he cupped your face with his hands when he pulled you into a kiss.

Now your back hit the fabric of the table as your arms wrapped around his neck bringing him down with you “my needy little baby,” he groaned as you began to grind your clit against his boxers.

A smile formed on your face as you felt his hands hook under your knees “I gotta taste you,” Quinn confessed as you nodded letting out little pleads as he moved his lips down your body “looking so fucking good from down here.” His voice made your body shake with anticipation as you felt his hands run down your legs.

The hockey player leaned down so that he was eye level with your core “you been waiting for this haven’t you?” Quinn smirked as he placed sloppy kisses against your thigh moving closer to your pussy.

But rather than stopping where you wanted him to he instead moved to your other thigh repeating his previous actions “please Quinn,” your voice came out shaky as you watched him come to a standstill with your pussy in front of him “seen the way you look at me.” Quinn clicked his tongue as he used two fingers to rub your clit nicely wetting it with your juices.

Your hands cupped your nipples teasing them both “needed you for so long,” you gasped as you felt those two fingers thrust inside of you.

He smiled hearing your confession “all you had to do was tell me you wanted this baby.” The Canucks player mumbled as he placed a kiss against your clit “could have all been yours years ago.” There was a sparkle in his eyes as he wrapped his lips around your clit letting his tongue run over the nub whilst his fingers didn’t let up their thrusts.

It was a good thing that nobody was in the house as you swore the neighbours could hear you “god don’t stop.” Your fingers locked into his growing hair making you grateful that he hadn’t cut it yet.

Quinn watched on in awe as your eyes were screwed shut and your face went scrunched as you clenched around him “god ain’t here with us baby.” His voice made you groan as he spoke with his mouth still against your clit.

Your chest began to rise and fall at a quicker rate “just like that Quinn,” you mumbled as you dug your head further into the table trying to push your hips closer to him.

Throughout the rest of the house your moans bounced off of the walls “what do you want baby?” Quinn asked as he used his thumb to rub your clit “tell me and I promise I’ll give it to you.” He added letting his mouth go back to what it was doing.

Brain fog seemed to hit you hard as your eyes stirred, remaining silent until you felt his hand pinch at your waist “please let me come.” You begged letting your lips form a pout “need it. Need it so bad.” Your whines went straight to his boxers making him realise that he was going to have to pull his boxers off the second he was done with you.

Quinn smiled “not gonna make you beg baby, want to make you come.” He cooed increasing the pace of his fingers as you gasped.

That was all you needed to hear from him as it pushed you over the edge “s-shit shit.” Your body shuddered as the boy made sure to help you through your orgasm as he didn’t let up on his actions “Quinny,” you whined as you tried to pull away from him but remained unsuccessful.

When you tugged at his hair Quinn got the hint as he moved back up to your face “feeling good baby?” Quinn asked as he kissed your lips letting you taste your release on his tongue.

With the little energy that you had left you pushed yourself forward “so good,” your hips clenched at the feeling of the pool table wall against your bum.

It made you feel bad when you saw how painful his boner looked “wanna fuck you,” you confessed as you palmed his cock over his boxers.

Quinn didn’t waste any time letting out a groan as the feeling of your fingers made him weak in the knees. The hockey player didn’t stop you when you got off of the table and hooked your fingers in his waist band so that could do a slut drop when you pulled his boxers down “don’t even think about it.” Quinn warned seeing you lick your lips as you were met with his cock.

A pout formed on your lips as that clearly wasn’t what you wanted to hear “I’m not gonna last long and I need to come inside of you.” He explained hooking his fingers under your jaw helping you back up.

It made you giggle “fuck me like you know you can Quinn,” you mumbled as you pecked his lips.

His hands gave your ass a squeeze “wanted this for years.” Just because you two acted like friends didn’t mean that all of the thoughts that ran through your heads were all platonic.

You let your hand run over his cock “want to feel every inch of you.” Your confession combined with the kiss you placed on his earlobe made his eyes almost roll back “what are you waiting for them?” He asked spinning you around as your hands handed in the table.

Unintentionally your core clenched around nothing as the anticipation for the best of you “my cock hungry little girl,” Quinn mumbled into your ear as he kissed your temple before he grabbed his cock letting it run over your clit twice before he slowly pushed himself inside of your pussy.

Your head fell back onto his shoulder “fuck Quinn!” You slapped your hand over your mouth as you adjusted to his size.

It made him laugh as his fingers dug into your hips sure to leave bruises tomorrow “enjoying it princess?” He asked as he kissed your shoulder letting his teeth sink in just hard enough to leave a bruise tomorrow.

All you could do was nod as you felt him hit your g-spot making you grateful that you weren’t on the table “don’t stop,” you blurted out enjoying how good it felt as he continued to fuck you.

The sound of skin slapping was blissful as you both only had one thing in mind, to come. Quinn felt like he was the weaker person in this battle as your pussy squeezed him in all the right ways “this pussy was made for me,” the boy announced as his hand reached in front of you to rub your clit.

When you didn’t respond it made the boy smile as your eyes began to roll back “just for you,” you cooed unaware of the grunt the boy released “all for you baby.” You added using all of your energy to face him as he brought his lips down to yours, the salty taste of your real ease still clear on his tongue.

Each time he thrusted forward your hips went back to meet his resulting in moans and whimpers coming from both of you “you want me to last much longer then you gotta stop doing that.” Quinn warned as he watched you bring your hand up when you wrapped it behind his neck making sure that he stayed close to you.

That statement acted like encouragement for you to do it again as you smiled “don’t tease me baby.” The boy grumbled as he brought his hand to your ass giving it a slap.

Instead of giving you a moment to respond his fingers that hadn’t left your clit now began to rub faster “please Quinn.” You begged feeling your toes wanting to scrunch up as you were teetering ever so closer to your high.

The hockey player wasn’t far behind you “take it baby.” Quinn groaned as his fingers dug harder into your hips “that it all.” He added as held increased his thrusts too.

It wasn’t any surprise that your second orgasm of the night quickly came over you “holy fuck!” Almost all of your body went limp besides for your pussy that clenched around Quinn’s cock spurring on his own orgasm “so good baby.” He cooed letting his cock flop out of you when he let out a gasp.

Your release trickled down your legs “that’s never happened before.” You announced growing red with embarrassment.

The boy didn’t let you feel that way for long “that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He confessed as Quinn tilted your head up to his so that he could kiss you.

A smile formed on your lips “want to join me in the bath?” You asked letting your fingers trace up his arm “lead the way princess.” Quinn nodded letting his hands leave your sides when you eventually were able to make your way to the staircase.

four days later

The boys were having a blast being back together under the same roof. They loved getting to do all of the things that the lake house let them, from the boat rides to the long games of pool and table tennis.

Quinn had to admit that he was enjoying where things were with you. It was easy with the lack of expectations but the Canucks player definitely planned on taking you on a boat ride just the two of you do that he could ask you out.

But for now he was going to have to wait as a game of pool called his name “this table looks off,” Jack announced as he furrowed his eyebrows.

Both yours and Quinn’s eyes went wide “what do you mean?” You asked as you stood next to the younger boy.

The devils player motioned to the marks on the carpet that showed that it had definitively been knocked “see,” Jack pointed out as he pushed the table back to its original position totally unaware of the looks of relief that ran over your and Quinn’s faces.

This was going to stay your little secret for now.

[thebearer]

rosé flowing with your chosen family | carmen berzatto x reader|

anyways here's a blurb inspired by my lil friendsgiving i hosted and how i think it would be with carmen bc im delusional in my head lolz

"Carm, look at this for me." You frown, turning the bronzed pumpkin at the center of the table.

"Yeah, one sec," Carmen muttered, turning with the pot in his hand, stirring the whipped potatoes vigorously. "What am I looking at?"

"The table." You tilt your head to the side. "Should I just move the pumpkin? It's too much with the candles, right?" You huff, the tapered candles flickering in their brass holders.

"No, baby, looks nice. Leave it. We can move it if it gets too crowded." Carmen hummed, a tiny curl of his lips had your heart swooning. "Need to go get ready. It's six-thirty."

"I just have to put my clothes on." You wave him off, fixing a napkin so it was centered on the plate, each place card in it's assigned place. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

Carmen shot you a look, rolling his eyes playfully. "No, I got it, alright? Go get ready." He shook his head gently, pushing the asparagus around in the pan.

You scurried behind him, pinching his jean clad ass gently, grinning at how he jumped before pressing a kiss to Carmen's cheek that left him blushing.

Your first Friendsgiving hosted at your place. An apartment a little bigger than Carmen's old one, but still cozy and all your own- the two of you. What better way to spend your first holidays together than to invite your friends over?

You were fussing over the glazed carrots on the counter when Sydney arrived, always early. "Hey," She crept in awkwardly into the kitchen, her head poking around the corner. "I, uh, I brought a dessert."

"Wow, that looks amazing." You grin, taking the dish from her, hugging her briefly in greeting. "What is this?"

"It's-"

"-It's a champagne cake with whipped butter cream frosting and a light raspberry spread." Marcus finished, stepping in behind Sydney, balancing a bottle of wine and his coat. "Don't let her take all the credit. I made it."

"Ok, well, I told you to add the raspberry-"

"-Well, I was the one who made it and added it-"

"-Alright." Carmen huffed, his voice edging on the tone he used at work. "Glad you both are here, alright?. The cake looks amazing."

Marcus whistled dramatically, peering over at the food laid out on the counter tops. "Looks good in here, Chef." He grinned.

"Thanks." Carmen muttered, brushing the rolls with butter, checking the oven again.

"Do you guys want anything to drink?" You ask, pulling the fridge open. "I have rosé or wine or anything?"

"I'll take a glass of rosé." Sydney nodded, shedding off her coat and hanging it over the back of the couch.

"Yeah, better get some now." Carmen snorted lightly. "Before Alicia comes."

"I have her a backup bottle." You smirk, pulling out the bottle proudly. "Alicia and I were watching the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills reunion, right? And she-" The door closed and you turned, your best friend walking in with a huge grin.

"-And she literally brought her own bottle of rosé." You laughed, shaking your head at her.

"I did." Alicia beamed, hugging you tightly. "Carmen, I promise I will not throw up or sob on your couch this time. I'm very stable now." She grinned at Carmen's huff of laughter.

The kitchen was packed, crammed at the table, laughing and swapping stories over the food. Carmen looked at you, the glow of the candles you insisted having to make it feel more homey- they did. How you were grinning, laughing at Fak and Richie bickering, giggling to your own friends and reminiscing.

For once, the holidays didn't feel like a chore. Carmen had been dreading this dinner, not the cooking or the setting up, but having people in his space. He didn't dare say anything, you were too excited and he'd never ruin your glee like that. Still, for him, the holidays were chaotic, everybody tense and scared.

Not here.

Not next to you, surrounded by all your friends.

Carmen finally got why people loved the holidays so much, why it was the most wonderful time of the year and all that. In his tiny apartment, sitting next to the love of his life, your hand holding his gently under the table, thumb swiping over his knuckles, squeezing it lightly when you'd look at him, eyes crinkling in a smile.

[saturnville]

on the frontline, major john egan

pairing: major john "bucky" egan x black fem oc (major lanessa "nessa" dixon) content: in an unlikely event, john meets another major during the war, but she isn't what he expects. warnings: medical inaccuracies. an: Nessa is inspired by major della raney jackson, first black major of the army nurse corps. tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste

The mess hall bustled with deep voices and the screeching of rubber soles against the dirty floor. The sun shone through the dusty windows and onto the leather-covered backs of the soldiers. An aroma of breakfast filled the atmosphere and wrapped its arms around them like a warm hug. The chefs made a large meal before missions. It was the last meal some men had to cherish. 

At a long table sat 13 men; two majors, two captains, a lieutenant, and eight sergeants. The conversations were minimal, until a sergeant spoke, “Have you met the new nurse?” He whistled he guzzled down a hefty bowl of oatmeal. He grunted after swallowing the hot oats and slurped down the black coffee beside his arm. “She’s a beauty!”

There was a discourse among the men who tried to figure out when they’d see the newly hired nurses. The wages of war came at a high price. Death and injury seemed to be a suitable payment to the creditor. To combat that, the service brought on extra hands to give medical assistance to the troops, especially with more men being enlisted to serve. Hundreds of thousands of men prepared to put their lives on the line; the least they could have was efficient medical care. 

“They all are,” another commented. “50 more nurses and half of ‘em are Black. Came in with them Tuskegee Airmen. Never seen anything like it.” 

As the pilots bantered about the new nurses, Major John Egan kept his gaze fixed on his coffee, his mind elsewhere. The arrival of more nurses was a reminder of the harsh realities of war, the constant influx of fresh faces tasked with patching up the broken bodies that returned from the front lines. Dread settled deep in his stomach at the thought of encountering them under such circumstances. With a curt nod, he urged his comrades to focus on the day ahead. Meanwhile, the chatter of the mess hall continued, blending with the clinking of utensils and the low hum of conversations.

“Haven’t seen them,” he spoke from behind the rim of his coffee. “Hoping I never have to. Let’s get going, boys.”  “Yes, sir.” 

-

“Major Egan’s hit!” For a moment, there was silence. Then, it wound up again when the wounded leader crossed the threshold into the infirmary.

The infirmary was chaotic. Loud cries and deep groans filled the air. Trays and metal utensils kissed one another as they were tossed on carts filled with supplies. White coats here and there sifted throughout the room as green bodies wheeled more patients into the large room. 

His breathing was ragged and heavy. With blurred vision caused by tears surfacing in the ducts on his eyes, it was difficult to navigate the infirmary without bumping into objects and solid bodies. His feet were heavy as he stumbled further into the infirmary. 

"I got you, Bucky," Gale's voice was frantic as he hoisted the pilot on his body. "You're gonna be alright, y'hear me?" If he had the strength, he would have replied. His heartbeat was in his ears and his stomach was in his throat. He'd never been shot before. Would this be the end of his career as a pilot? He groaned in agony. 

"I need a nurse!" Gale hollered, his husk voice reverberating off the walls. "He's been shot. Bullet is still in his shoulder."

In front of him appeared a nurse. A highly ranked nurse, at that. She was dressed differently than the others. There was no matching white skirt set with a pretty hat, no, she was dressed just like him. Dark leather jacket, heavy pants, and dark boots. On her chest was a multitude of badges and pins, including one that was similar to the one on Gale's chest. Major. Well, he'd be damned.

She didn't stay in his sight long, as she began giving orders to two other nurses, who were preparing a bed. She ushered her patient to another nurse and wrapped her black stethoscope around her neck. Around her wrist was a small hair-tie which she used to pull her curls into a makeshift bun. With a thunderous voice, she ordered, “Bessie, get him on a stretcher and bring him to me.”

A fellow nurse, Bessie assisted Gale in getting John on a stretcher. Gale stood behind the ladies, the tip of his thumb against his teeth. As the stretcher was rolled toward her station, she made a quick work of the gloves and ordered him to stay calm. “I’m gonna cut your shirt, okay? I need you to remove your hand so I can take a look. Take deep breaths for me.”

Beads of sweat trailed down John's forehead as he gritted his teeth. His nostrils flared and his jaw shook as he tried to keep his sounds to a minimum. The nurse above him chuckled, which caught his attention. "What's funny?" He managed to ask. 

She pushed his stubborn hand to the side and used her scissors to split his shirt in half. She was unfazed as blood trickled out of the open wound. It was ugly, but she knew how to make ugly beautiful. The wound was a wicked one, but it was a clean shot that managed to miss the muscle. It would be an easy retrieval. 

"No reason to play big man and conceal your pain here, Major. You got shot. The shit hurts. You can let it hurt here." She pressed her stethoscope against his chest. Heartbeat still strong, she noted. Wavering just slightly, but strong. She called for extra hands. "Administer the shot into the upper right shoulder."

John's eyes were on her as she worked. Her brown eyes were gentle and they remained on him as she poked, but her tone was stern as she said, "Major Cleven, if you'd like to stay, you must stay behind that line. Major Egan, you just received a numbing agent to reduce the sensation. The bullet is retrievable. If you feel anything unbearable,  you let me know. I'll stitch you up good as new afterword, am I clear?" 

John’s stomach twisted at her authority. His tongue scraped across the roof of his mouth as he nodded, "Yes ma'am."

"Wonderful. Scalpel, please." 

-

"How is he?" Gale's voice was unclear. He felt groggy. His head was a boulder on his shoulders and he felt confined to the small, yet comfortable bed he laid in. 

"He'll be just fine, Major. He took it like a champ. He'll be out of commission for six to twelve weeks and will be ordered to physical therapy upon return to base. Don't give me that look, now; he is not fit for battle right now, but he will be okay, I can reassure you that. My nurses and I will take good care of him just like we will everyone else."

John heard Gale's sigh of worry. "Okay, you're right. Thank you, Major..." 

She chuckled lightly. "Nessa Dixon." 

"Major Dixon. Thank you for all you've done." 

"No problem at all. You come to me tomorrow if that wrist is still giving you problems and I’ll wrap it again for you, okay? Get some rest, you'll need it." They exchanged goodbyes and the sound of Gale's footsteps retreating became clear. Finally, John's heavy eyelids peeled open. 

"Nice to see you again," she spoke after some time. She was leaning against the wall, hands stuffed into her pockets. and her stethoscope dangling from her neck. "How are you feeling?" She made her way toward him, sitting on the stool she set at the bedside. 

John groaned as he tried to readjust. His shoulder was wrapped tightly. He couldn't move even if he tried. Amelia jumped up and propped a pillow up. "Easy now..."

"Thank you," he replied gruffly. "I'm sore. Tired. And I need a damn drink." 

His response pulled a laugh from her. Not the small chuckle she'd release here and there, no, a hearty laugh. It made him smile. "You and me both. Let's get you up and moving first. Your procedure went well. You are to stay out of combat for--"

"Six to twelve weeks with physical therapy upon return to base," he repeated her words, clearly unamused. Nessa smiled, clearly amused. 

"Good to know you listen," she replied.

John hummed. "I do, Major. Didn't know that was a thing for nurses." He hated to seem painfully ignorant, but it’s what he was at that moment. Nurses in his unit rarely received titles, unless they’d done something extraordinary or had been in service for an extended period. But she, she looked young. Like she couldn’t be much older than he was.

Nessa nodded. She was one of the first Black nurses accepted into the Army Nurse Corps after they began accepting Black women. She worked her way up the chain, she explained, earning the same prestigious he carried. On the same level as a white man whose life was in her hands. Who would've guessed? 

"Nessa is just fine right now," she suggested. "I should let you rest. I'll do one more check before I head out. Major Cleven will be here in the morning, I'm sure. Do you need anything, Major?"

"John," he said gently, tired blue eyes gazing into hers. "And I'm okay. Thank you for everything." 

She gave one nod before leaving him alone and releasing the breath she wasn't aware she held.

-

“Nessa.” The woman sighed heavily and dropped her clipboard against the makeshift desk. Silence wasn’t a thing during war. Constant movement, moaning and groaning, the calling of her name. All she wanted was a moment of silence. It was nonexistent.

“Yes?” She didn’t turn around. But, she recognized the voice. Deep. Full of rasp. The way he said her name. It was familiar. Her eyes dropped to her clipboard, scattered with notes and reports that needed to be sent to the leader physicians. 

“Why are you awake? I thought you were leaving.” 

Her eyes dropped to the watch on her wrist. 1:43am. She’d been up for almost 24 hours. She shrugged and picked up her pen to scribble on the paper more. “I can ask you the same thing, Major. You’re supposed to be sleeping. Why aren’t you sleeping?” 

Finally, Nessa turned around. She regretted it. John Egan was a handsome man. She knew that, but she was too focused on ensuring he didn’t lose his arm to focus on his features. But in this moment, in the dimly lit infirmary with no one else present, she had every opportunity to do so. And, she regretted it. 

He was tall. Much taller than she was. She assumed her head would be at his shoulder, still leaving inches of distance between them. Though his face was littered with scrapes and healing scars, it seemed to illuminate his beauty. His eyes were blue, a strong contrast against his dark, curly hair. A strong nose and straight lips that she was sure felt amazing. His upper lip was cut in the corner and dried blood remained. He must’ve begun anxiously picking at it.

He managed to change his clothes. Major Cleven must have had something to do with that. He was dressed in dark sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She was curious as to how he got his arm through the sleeve, but she’d heckle him about it later in the day. His curls were damp and tousled messily. God, he was beautiful. Bruised and all. 

He chuckled and slowly sat in the chair opposite of her. He groaned softly and readjusted himself to come into a comfortable position. “I can ask you the same question.”

She shrugged, “I’ve got paperwork to do. Go to bed, John. You can’t heal if you don’t rest.” 

“You gonna tuck me in?” John’s tone was teasing. Nessa’s eyebrows raised and the pilot threw his head back as he laughed heartily. It was the first time he laughed with passion in a while, and she couldn’t help but crack a smile as well. 

“You’re in a good mood. Let’s go. You’re going to bed and I’m going to sleep in the infirmary just in case..” She pushed up from her chair and tucked her documents into a folder. She nodded toward the door and the pilot followed suit. 

They walked side by side in silence back to the infirmary, which was near the resting area for the injured who didn’t make it back to their chambers. Luckily, everyone had. Nessa’s eyebrows raised as John lay on the same bed he was on earlier. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m your just in case,” he said simply. He laid his head against the pillow and watched as she stood still. Nessa swallowed thickly. It took her brain extra effort to tell her feet to move. She sat on the edge of the bed to pull her heavy boots off her feet. She sighed in relief. 

Nessa swung her feet on the bed and allowed her body to mold into the comfortable mattress. Her eyelids felt heavy, but still, she found his gaze. “Goodnight, John.” 

“Goodnight, Nessa.” 

Though they did not say anything to one another after that, she found comfort in the silence. They found solace in the quiet of the infirmary that kept them through the rest of the night. Together.

[thatsatricky1]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖋𝖙

Pairing: Criminal Choi San x Nurse (afab) Reader.

Genre: Thriller, Crime, Romace

Warnings: Hospitals, slight gore, wounds, gun shot wound mentioned, blood mentioned, gun mentioned, criminal activities, bank heist.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction and does not accurately describe San, again this is fiction for entertainment purposes. Also I wrote this at an ungodly hour at night so please excuse if there are any grammar or misspellings (English is not my first language) I will go back to re-edit any mistakes later after I get some sleep.

Word count: 3,4k+

“I still remember you full of youth, wide eyed, holding a water bottle in one hand and a fall risk document in the other.”

“Ah yes when I was a resident still full of hope.” Y/n commented back not looking up from the computer where she was typing up a quick patient report. An already empty coffee cup in the trash can next to the desk and a freshly opened 500ml energy drink laid next to the computer keyboard.

“Now you’re just like the rest of us.” Chan spoke again with a small lopsided smile leaning against the desk, arms crossed figure still clothed in his lab coat.

“Chan, I love you but your shift ended an hour ago, leave before you get stuck here.” Y/n shut down Chan’s small talk.

“Couldn't I say the same for you?”

“No, understaffed as per usual meaning I’m doing a double shift.” Y/n answered back to Chan’s retort causing him to stand up straight.

“You are taking another double shift? You know you can say no sometimes.” Chan frowned watching her still typing up the last few sentences of her report on a new income patient.

“I’d love to but Yeji and Rose are both on holiday, Momo is on leave since she’s in her third trimester, Mark is sick, so is Yoona, Hani, Suzi and Doyoung. Oh and Irene got moved to ward F4.” Y/n listed off with her finger spinning in her chair to face Chan now.

“Felix?” Chan asked out stubbornly.

“He did the last double shift, late and night shift.” Y/n shot back.

Chan sighs moving to rub his eyes letting out a groan not liking how his ward was always understaffed but most ward were, that’s how it was. He was always asking the hospital to hire more nurses, it looked like even him, the head doctor couldn’t change their stingy ways.

Hospital staff worked as a team. Doctors, nurses, emt’s, cleaners, chefs, receptionists, therapists, interns, residents, technicians, all staff were a team together. If just one was missing, the hospital wouldn’t work.

“I’m going to try again at the next board meeting to get them to reconsider adding extra staff.” Chan mentions while Y/n gets out of her seat standing in front of him.

“Of course you will, you do every time Dr. Bang, but how about for now you go to bed, can’t have a sleep deprived doctor working on my patients.” Y/n teased a cheeky smile gracing her lips but eyes were evidently tired as she patted his chest.

“Alright, alright nurse Y/n. I’m on call though, so if anything happens it’s my number you need to call during Night Shift Alright?” Chan conceded one arm raised in mock surrender while the other patted her hand that laid on his chest.

“Good, sleep well Chan.” Y/n replied letting her hand slip away from being sandwiched between Chan’s chest and hand. No doubt already making up her mind to not bother on calling Chan as she was a pro in emergencies.

Y/n moving away over to the medication area opening the cabinets while flipping open the iPad going onto her patients medical plans to start preparing their medication before they’d be going to sleep.

Chan watched silently as Y/n moved with muscle memory reaching for different medications she knew like the back of her hand placing them in one use containers.

“Sleep well too Y/n after your shift ends.” Chan quietly spoke out in the room but loud enough to hear as she hummed out in response.

With one more reluctant look at leaving her alone for the Night Shift, Chan grabbed his things leaving the nursing room. Y/n hearing his footsteps faintly leave down the hallway.

Y/n taking in a deep breath, blinking away the heavy feeling in her eyelids. Hands moving nimbly as usually putting another 400mg pain tablet into a container.

It had hit 3 a.m. Y/n having just finished another round through her patients rooms making her way back towards the nursing room pocketing her low light torch and quickly checking the time on her pocket watch, a puff of air releasing from her mouth realising she still had four more hours till change over.

Unlocking the nursing room and pushing it open with her hip letting the door stay all the way open as she moved to grab her nearly finished energy drink. Moving it up to her lips only to pause hearing the night shift phone start ringing.

Only letting her eyes flutter shut for a moment of annoyance that coursed through her tired body knowing fully well she shouldn’t have hoped for a peaceful night. Yet even when placing the drink down in favour to grab the phone still holding on to a string of hope it was just Irene who was on night shift on F4 wanting to call to pass time and gossip about her new work colleagues.

With a click of a button she pressed the phone to her ear calling out her wards name, F2 and her name.

“Hey Y/n it’s Eunwoo, Irene is gonna look after F2 and F4 for a while. I need you down here for some extra help. Sorry sweetheart.” Eunwoo’s voice muffled out of the old desperately in need of updating, hospital night shift phone.

Just like that Y/n’s peace was broken, but she didn’t dwell on it and instead nodded to herself gripping the phone tighter as she stuffed her pocket with gloves, a Sutures scissors and hand bottle of disinfectant.

“Alright Eunwoo I’m on my way down to the Emergency ward, keep tight I’ll be three minutes max.” Y/n replied not waiting for his response as she ended the call already moving out of the nursing office, locking it behind her before rushing as quietly as she could down the hallway, taking the stairs instead of the elevator.

Making it in under two minutes gloves on and ready. Swiftly making her way down the hallway, Eunwoo joined her halfway.

“What happened, Eunwoo?” Y/n asked straight to the point, turning her head to cast her gaze on her friend.

“Good morning to you too sweetheart, three guys came in severely wounded, one shot, the other two pretty scratched up. They won’t talk about it. My guess is some gang robbery on the trio went wrong and they're traumatised or still in shock from it.” Eunwoo informed, somehow slipping a joke in as well.

“And I’m here, why then?”

“Because my dear Y/n I have my hands full with critically injured patients and there is one guy left from the three that needs to be patched up.” Eunwoo finally explained.

“Eunwoo-” Y/n started to go on her rant but was cut off by Eunwoo who stopped them grabbing her blue medical gloved hands in his own matching pair.

“Y/n I wouldn’t ask you to come down without a reason, I’m on my second double shift in a row, I have four burn victims I constantly have to attend to until space frees up in the critical ward. We used to work in the emergency ward together so I knew you’d get it.” Eunwoo spoke this time seriously, squeezing Y/n’s hands gently.

Y/n gazed into Eunwoo’s eyes for a few seconds before softening her gaze, nodding understanding him. Eunwoo’s eyes brightened knowing he could count on her pulling her into a tight hug.

“He’s in room 4, thank you Y/n you are a lifesaver. I owe you one.” Eunwoo thanked her, taking his leave to rush back to room 6.

“Yeah, I know.” She muttered to herself, hands on her hips before looking over to room 4.

“I’m fine, like I said before you can attend to my friends first.” A smooth yet somehow gruff voice called out in the dim room.

“Well that’s an interesting introduction. And for your peace of mind, your friends have already been attended to.” Y/n spoke from the doorway leaning against it.

“You’re not that guy.” The male blurted out observing Y/n.

“Very observant. No I’m not, but you’re my patient now, so let’s have a look at what I’m working with.” Y/n clearly amused as she stepped properly into the room now, picking up the new patients chart.

Having to keep a poker face noticing Eunwoo’s chicken scratch handwriting with barely any information. Male, looks to be mid twenties, might have a cut on his right forearm and some scratches to the face. Not a lot to work off of.

Placing the chart down Y/n looked over at the guy taking in his appearance. He was quite attractive, that is something she couldn’t deny. Recently freshly bleached hair, black combat boots, plain black pants, an olive green hoodie paired with a questionable leather combat vest, that she hoped was just an odd choice of street fashion wear. One of his hands gloved with a chain attached to it, the other hand was covered in wrist bands.

“Are they really fine?” The guy asked, watching as Y/n grabbed supplies bring them over to the bed he was sitting on, legs placed on the floor in habit in case he needed to make a break for it.

“Eunwoo has magic hands, you’re friends are most definitely more than fine.” She reassured him.

“But you on the other hand, need to get patched up now.” Y/n pointed out hand gesturing towards his bloodied sleeve.

“It’s not mine.” San explained, the blood having soaked into his sleeve of his hoodie earlier.

Y/n held back from raising her eyebrow shaking her head pointing out “I’m going to assume you got blood on your sleeve from your friends gun shot wound.”

“Yeah something like that.” He nods.

“Alright so, I still need to patch up your face. Make sure those wounds don’t leave any nasty scars.” She spoke while preparing everything all while he watched curiosity clear in his eyes.

San could clearly tell the young nurse was tired, then again it was always said that nurses are overworked so he shouldn’t be surprised, it was also 3 something a.m.

“I’m Y/n F/n, but you can call me Y/n.” Y/n introduced herself before gesturing at her equipment asking permission silently to start. San giving a single not for the go ahead.

Y/n moved to start cleaning up the scratch that was clean along the bridge of his nose, it would leave a faint scar from the depth but with her skillful hands it wouldn’t be as noticeable. Being this up close to him made her realise he had an eyebrow piercing, something Y/n was a sucker for. But she was also professional.

“San.”

“No last name?” She hummed out eyebrows scrunching the slightest bit in focus, a detail San couldn’t help but burn into his memory gaze never leaving her face.

“Just San.” He replied back waiting to be further interrogated but was pleasantly surprised by Y/n not asking further questions on him. Yet for some reason also hoped she’d dig further.

“So do you always come waltzing through the emergency entrance with sounds wearing a leather vest or is this something you’re just scratching off your bucket list?” Y/n tried making small talk, wanting his attention off her face, noticing his intense stare.

“We got robbed, not something I put on my bucket list, don’t have one to begin with.” San replied with a small smirk placed against his lips at her words. The lies slipped off his tongue easily as it was a thing he did often.

“Mm, Eunwoo did say something about a robbery. At least you have a new conversation started to use on people.” Y/n offered up a barely good thing to come out of the situation that happened to him and his friends.

“You look tired.” San blurted out wanting to change the topic off of his friends and situation since he didn’t want to slip up on it and talk further on it as when Mingi, Wooyoung and he had gone to the hospital the furthest they’d made up on their alibi was getting robbed and none of the three would say more in case they gave different stories.

“Once again a great observation San, I’m on a double shift. I had a late shift. Now I’m on night shift due to our wonderfully understaffed hospital like every other hospital.” Y/n replied to him wondering if she looked like a mess for him to be pointing out she looked tired.

“Fuck. Sounds like it happens a lot.” San muttered out holding back a wince as she cleaned over a cut on his cheekbone, being used to the pain but that didn’t mean he was immune to it.

“It does.” Y/n hummed out before saying with an amused grin “Do I look that bad?”

“No, just because you look tired doesn’t mean you look bad. You look good.” San responded just as fast, eyes never falling from her face unlike how her hand faltered from where it was attending to his cheekbone.

“… Well you should see me with at least eight hours of sleep and in clothes that aren’t my scrubs.” Y/n teased out having to take a second, surprised by the sudden comment he made.

“Don’t tempt me, you know I’d want to see that.” San spoke out confidently, his pierced eyebrow raising. Only to wince at Y/n ‘accidentally’ pressing harder on his wound.

“Careful San if I didn’t think any better I’d say you’re testing your luck on a night shift nurse right after being robbed.” She shook her head to hold back her amusement.

“And what if I am?” He boldly asked hand slyly moving to grab her wrist gently stopping her from continuing with patching up his face. Y/n noticing just how close their faces were now.

“I’d say it would be a lost cause San, seeing as I’m your nurse and you’re my patient. Your not the first flirt I’ve come across in the work field and certainly not the last.” She put on a confident face tilting her head.

San’s eyes flickering the briefest second down at her lips before staring deep into her eyes, the smirk on his lips turning into a grin.

“Hasn’t stopped other people in the past. I like challenges Y/n.”

“This is a challenge you can only fail at San, I don’t typically go for guys without last names.”

“Choi.” San bluntly replied leaning another inch towards her face.

“I don’t go for bleach blondes.” Y/n responded right after not moving her face back.

“Hair dye exists darling.” San moved closer as if challenging her back, her head not retreating backwards.

“I like my men honest, wanna give me a rundown on how the robbery happened?” Y/n asked out while still doing her job causing San to let out a puff of air amused.

“If I get a kiss I might just tell you every little detail.” San was instantly sorting a made up robbery in his head.

“How about the story first?”

“No can do darling, the kiss comes first.” San denied his lips now so close she could nearly feel them against her own.

“Then I guess we are at a stalemate.” Y/n retorted yet didn’t move back.

San took this as a sign, eyes slowly closing as he moved forward only to be met with air.

Blinking his eyes a few times before fully opening them to see Y/n staring back amused, face a few inches away from his again.

“I got the last name, but your hair is still blonde and I didn’t get that story.” She shrugged, tugging her wrist out of his grasp easily seeing as he’d been holding it lightly in his grasp beforehand.

“Tease.” San groaned out moving backwards so his upper half of his body fell onto the bed.

“Whatever you say Choi San. Well as much as I enjoyed our interesting conversation, I need to go back to my ward to do another round on my patients seeing as you're all finished.” Y/n explained as she got up patting away the imaginary dusk on her scrubs after disposing of her one use gloves.

San was pleased to see no ring in sight on her now revealed hands. Sitting up with his hands holding all his wait he watched her put away the equipment she’d used.

“I thought I was also your patient, shouldn’t I get some of your time as well?” San didn’t let up not wanting her to leave so soon knowing fully well this could be their only interaction to his unfortunate displeasure at the thought.

“Well I can’t be using all my attention on one patient, that’s bias.” Y/n shrugged, moving to lean against the doorway of the room once again like she’d done when she’d first entered the room.

“You’ll probably be able to be discharged soon, be careful where you’re walking around at night with your friends. You’ve got a handsome face, one I don’t want to see get scratched up again and also in my hospital again, stay safe Choi San. Look after yourself.”

San smiled at her kind yet teasing words.

“I’ll try not to. But that doesn’t mean we won’t bump into each other again. The world is a small place you never know when we’ll see each other again.” San replied back.

“Sure thing.” Y/n nodded not thinking they’d cross paths again, but she wouldn’t mind it if it was in any other setting but the hospital she worked in.

Turning to leave Y/n held back an amused laugh hearing San call out to her as she finally took her leave.

“I’ll be waiting for that kiss Darling!”

“Darling?” It was a voice she’d thought she’d never hear again. Much less run into the man.

All she could do was stare in shock and slight anger at the sight in front of her.

San stood there gun in hand, face scratched up again because of the fight that had been taking place at 9pm on a random street in Seoul.

Y/n having been a random witness to the cruel street criminal actions taking place in the bank where’d she’d come by on her only day off she’d managed to get wanting to pay a bit of her student loans.

“You never got robbed.” Was all she could manage to whisper out, San having to strain his ears to hear it, but it was evident he’d heard her by the frown that had settled on his face.

San had been in a robbery gone wrong that night. Though he wasn’t the one who’d gotten robbed. He’d been the one trying to rob others. His grip on his gun faltered quickly, pocketing it in his waistband, glancing at the dead cameras shuffling closer to off duty nurse. Only for her to shuffle back from where she’d been sitting on the ground due to having been ordered by another man ten minutes ago to do so at the beginning of the bank heist currently taking place.

“Darling don’t, don’t you move away from me.” San scrambled with his words trying to back track this whole situation cursing out himself for life putting the two of you here at the same time and not some cliche bump into each other at a coffee shop cliche.

“You shouldn’t have told me your last name San.” Y/n spoke with determination, eyes barely managing to glare at her once patient who’d lied and flirted with her so easily.

“Well I guess that means we have a dilemma on our hands.” San clenched his jaw tight at her words.

“You won’t get away with this San, taking people's hard earned money like this.”

“That’s not what this is Y/n.” San denied desperately wanting her to understand the situation.

“That’s what it looks like to my Choi San.” She retorted, eyes flicking to his hands as he fiddled with something taking another step in her direction, eyes staring once again at that face he’d been thinking about this whole time since they’d first met months ago.

“Oh Darling. You have no idea.”

Taglist:

@philijack

(If you’d like to be tagged in my Ateez works please comment or message me to be added to the list)

𝕬𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖟 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: Click here

(Requests are currently open)

[galebrainrot2024]

GalexYou Dinner Party Part 1/3

I didn't manage to finish the next enemies to lovers part (I got half way!). I DID manage to write the start of a Dinner Party short series based on the @thebitchycloudpainter's idea. THANK YOU :D this was a hoot to begin to write.

Summary: As you and Gale settle into your life post-elder brain, you pitch the idea of gathering everyone for a dinner party in Waterdeep. Gale begins the whirlwind of preparation, setting the stage for the party itself. Content: fluff, some angst, mutual pining, mention of chronic pain, mostly fluff tho for the Sunday scaries

Master List |

It was hardly a few months time when Gale began to lament about how long it had been since you and your companions saw one another. As the stillness of life settled around you and he, you realized how much stimulation Gale needed to feel satisfied. He was endlessly curious and in many ways, your almost cataclysmic adventure was well suited for his temperament. 

Despite his aching knees and persistent gnawing where the orb once nestled and despite some days where he was unable to find the energy to rise from bed, he craved excitement. In incremental and practical doses, for the most part. 

When you tossed the idea of a dinner party half-heartedly, you were startled when he took it and began to weave together an elaborate chain of thoughts. He shot up, enthusiasm coursing through his veins as he spoke louder, his hands gesturing in wilder strokes as he went on: “Oh! Yes! What a fantastic idea, I knew I loved you.” He smirked and shot a wink, before pressing his fist against his pursed lips. “Should there be invitations? Of course there should be, Gale. Don’t be silly. Lest we forget our manners - Tara would never allow it, let alone my mother.” He shot you a knowing look, brows raised. He began to pace. “Invitations always feel a little.. old fashioned and archaic.” He stopped to catch his breath and you felt heat spread across your cheeks as you beamed at him. Although the idea of a dinner party knotted your stomach, to bring Gale joy and see him so exuberant, it would be worth it. “Listen to me, drolling on,”  he took one of your hands and brought it to his lips. His hot breath against your skin made you shudder. “What do you envision my love? We could very well use the sending stones. How decadent though, to send out invitations for something as simple as a dinner!” He dropped your hand after kissing it once more, the energy whirring through him. He walked towards the picture window, watching the sun dip lazily on the horizon. “Everyone loves receiving proper mail, wouldn’t you agree?” He turned back to face you and you felt butterflies twist your stomach when blush coated his cheeks. He looked bashful, his large  brown eyes honeyed pools. “Why are you looking at me as if I’ve sprouted tentacles?” Gale’s eyes glinted with mischief. He loved teasing you. Once he realized though, a soft, “ah” escaped his lips. “It’s because I’m getting caught up again, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” you said, stepping forward to wrap an arm around his waist and pulled him toward you. You brushed a stray hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear. You love how he leaned into your touch, igniting your skin as it sung with his. “I love it when you get carried away, please continue.” 

“Are you certain this is something you want to do? I have a few faint ideas on how to reach Karlach and Wyll. Ah! And I’m sure Tara wouldn’t mind me joining her and Wither’s Wednesday Tea Time - she’s been pestering me to join her for some time. Perhaps I can seek out his assistance. OH! And the menu! What shall we have? There are so many possibilities…” as you saw Gale’s mind work, you whispered against his lips how much you loved him. You felt him tremble and sigh as you pulled away. 

“You were our appointed chef! Everyone’s had your cooking you salvaged from pitiful scraps. I’m sure whatever you prepare, it will be excellent and they will be thrilled. Think about how inspired everyone will be when you have access to actual spices and produce.” You leaned forward to kiss him again and he welcomed you in. A few moments passed, your hands exploring one another, lips tenderly synched as your tongues mingled and you tasted fresh green tea. You were enveloped in each other. He groaned as blood pulsed to his groin and you felt heat spread between your hips. 

“Yes, but this is different! What if they don’t like what I prepare? You remember how picky some of them were-“ he was interrupted by your charming laugh and gentle kiss. Whenever you noticed him get too wrapped up in his thoughts, you knew your lips at the very least would silence his protests if he would not or could not hear your words. You were happy to offer whatever encouragement and validation you could. 

“Give yourself more credit. You’re an excellent cook, and you have wonderful friends who like and admire you - I know they will love having a real, decent meal prepared by you. I’m surprised Karlach isn’t at our door already, eager and ready to eat.” You smiled despite the pang echoing in your heart for your friend. You missed her and hoped her and Wyll were safe in the hells. 

At this, Gale beamed. You remembered how he loved feeding Karlach especially - her enthusiasm for life, food included, made those who her compliments touched delighted. “You’re right. I am so glad you thought of this, you’re brilliant and I love you, so very much.” He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you passionately, the kind of kiss before someone runs off to safe the world. 

In this case, it would be preparing a dinner party. 

[pez3639]

Help all i can think about is the Berzatto Family and White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes. It’s literally so depressing.

More thoughts below the cut :)

I was following the pack all swaddled in their coats

As the youngest, Carmen was used to just following his family. Sugar in front of him, then Michael, and sometimes Donna. He watched his family from the back of their heads. He watched what they did and tried to follow them the best he could. That was his identity for so long until he became a chef. All he based himself on was his family because he could never truly escape the chaos of them. He didn’t know who he was but he did know that all he had to do was follow them. He wanted to be like Michael until he wasn’t allowed to work with him. Then he trailed off. He went away, trying to piece himself together, but it didn’t work. He was still following Michael. He true passion was, at its heart, making his brother proud. He followed Michael until he was pushed away. In his attempt to find himself, he just cemented his need to make his brother proud. He was alway following them.

With scarves of red tied round their throats; to keep their little heads from falling in the snow

The scarves is what they held closest to themselves. For Donna it was her own self loathing. For Sugar it was her constant anxiety. For Mikey it was his substance abuse. Carmy didn’t have that. He was wide eyed and could be read like a book. His family kept their ways to protect themself while he was bare. He had nothing to shield him from the biting cold of life. Nothing he could use to hide behind. His family used their problems to keep their heads up. They weren’t allowed to show their struggles. Michaels had become so hidden that it took his life from him. His drug addled brain was what kept him warm in Chicago winters. Donna had the fire of hatred. And the boiling pot of fear protected Nat from frostbite. But nothing could stop Carny from struggling in the freezing temperatures of his mind and world.

And I turned round and there you go

Carmen had had enough. He was tired of being submissive and having fingers cold to the touch. He couldn’t stand watching his family march on all while he shivered. So he went the opposite direction and picked up a chefs coat on the way. He never had a clue to where he would end up until he set his sights on the culinary arts. If he couldn’t be someone in the outside world, he could lead a pack inside the kitchen all while being warmed by the fame of a stove. It was here where others began to watch the back of his head. It’s where he ignited his passion but also sparked the same habits of his family. He hated himself. He was constantly in a state of fear. He could always taste birth tobacco at the back of his throat no matter how many Michelin meals he prepared. His family watched him drive away only for him to crash and burn. But Michael and Nat couldn’t save him from the wreck. He pushed them so far that they huddled between themselves without Carmen.

And Michael, you would fall and turn the white snow red as strawberries in the summertime.

Carmen looked back from the wreckage of his life to only see Donna and Natalie. There was no Michael. There will never be another Michael. He shot himself. Carmen didn’t know what fueled it, but he knew Michael was gone. Not gone like his father, no. Gone for good. He put a big red stain in Carmens brain that can’t be washed away no matter how many hours he spends scrubbing at it. The blotch speed further and further as time went on. He skipped the funeral. He inherited the forsaken restaurant. He found Michael’s note and the hidden money. The blood will continue to spread until it overflows into his soul. He still has Natalie and Donna and sometimes Richie. But there is no more Michael. Only a gunshot and his body becoming covered with the cold Chicago snow.

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I’m so sorry i couldn’t get this out of my brain until I wrote it. Please do request anything you’d like to hear. I’m gonna try and start a full length x reader fic for carmy soon. I hope this hurt you as much as it did me. thanks pookies <3

[loveforcarmen]

𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙏𝙀𝙀

- carmen berzatto has an unexpected visitor at his apartment late at night.

carmen berzatto x oc!coworker | • one shot

NOTE: im turning this into a series on here and my wattpad (@littlesadcowgirl)

- carmen opened the door to find sloppy eyed margaret, “maggie” as he called her, standing outside of his apartment.

“you lost?” he stood there with a blank expression on his face.

she sighed before answering, “i don’t have time for your sarcasm, carmen.” margaret rubbed her temples in an attempt to ward off an incoming migraine.

“where you coming from?” carmen asked, glancing at her outfit. margaret wore a small, black mini dress paired with a pair of red, heeled boots. he stood slightly annoyed as she took her time to answer.

“a party.” she motioned to her outfit, “was it not obvious?” she did a small twirl, but almost tripped due to the alcohol in her system.

“yeah, you’re right. it was obvious.” carmen agreed, not wanting to deal with a drunk woman right now.

margaret’s smile suddenly dropped before she spoke, “my friends ditched me.” she could feel herself getting upset and started to pick at her fingernail subconsciously.

there was a long pause between the 2 before carmen sighed, stepping to the side. margaret mouthed the words, “thank you”, as she walked in. carmen nodded his head, kicking the door closed with his foot.

margaret began to put her things on the coffee table in front of the couch, neatly arranging her bag and coat.

“you can sleep in my bed. i’ll take the couch.” he said, leaning against the counter.

“i couldn’t ask that of you.” her lip pointed downwards

“i offered, it’s no big deal.” carmen dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

he motioned for margaret to follow him down the hall and to the room. as she trailed behind him, she noticed that he absolutely no decor on his walls. no pictures, paintings, nothing.

“you can set your stuff down, i’ll get you a change of clothes for the night.” carmen pointed to the bed, as he walked to his dresser.

“yes chef.” margaret joked, but immediately wished she could swallow her words. why the hell would she say that?

carmen was glad his back was turned because her stupid comment almost got a genuine smile out of him.

he dug through his drawer and eventually settled on a pair of boxers and one of his many white t-shirts. he turned around and handed the clothes to margaret.

she raised an eyebrow, holding up the boxers. carmen gave a playful eye roll, “they’re clean.”

he pointed to the door on their right, “bathroom is over there. i’ll be making the bed so holler if you need something, ok?”

margaret nodded her head with a soft smile then turned on her heel to leave. carmen kept his eyes trained on her for even a second, then went back to his bed-making duties.

margaret changed quickly in the bathroom, folding her dress and neatly setting it to the side with her boots.

carmen knocked on the door with a sharp *rapp* of his knuckles. “yo, you good in there…” he paused waiting for her to answer.

she opened the door quickly, catching carmen off guard. “yep.” she said, smoothing the white tee down.

carmen felt a pit forming in his stomach at the sight of margaret in one of his beloved white tees. he cleared his throat to clear his feelings, “um the bed is made. i set your bag and coat to the side on the nightstand.”

“thanks carmen.” she replied, getting into bed immediately.

“yeah no problem..” he trailed off.

he scratched his head tousling his dirty blonde curls, “i’ll go get you a glass of water.” he excused himself and went to the kitchen.

he returned quickly with the glass of water, setting it down gently. margaret looked up at him, appreciating his kindness, which was not often shown especially in the kitchen.

“thank you carmen, truly.”

“don’t mention it.”

he rubbed the back of his neck before adding, “if you need to puke, please run to bathroom”

margaret let out a soft laugh, “got’cha.” she winked. carmen nodded his head then began to walk out of the room.

he turned around, walking back to the bedside. margaret looked over at him, confused. “roll over on your side.” he said.

“why?”

“i don’t need you to drown in your own puke, smartass.” he answered, helping her roll over on her side. “there ya go.” he situated the blanket so it was comfortable on her.

margaret gave him a thumbs up, looking at him through her half-lidded eyes. he returned the thumbs up, walking to the doorway of the bedroom.

“goodnight carmy.” margaret whispered.

carmen flicked the light off, “goodnight maggie.” he closed the door and went to prepare the couch for the night.

SOMETIME IN THE EARLY MORNING

carmen woke up to the usually brigade of bad dreams that plagued him every night. he got up to get himself a glass of water, making sure to walk quietly since margaret was sleeping just down the hall.

he filled his cup up, downing it and filling it up again. he set it down, then made his way to margaret’s room. he quietly opened the door, the hinges making a slight *creak*

margret stirred but did not wake up. he grabbed her glass then left the room to fill it up. as he waited for it to fill up, he ran his fingers through his curls out of habit. a stress habit. why was he stressed about her being here?

he faded back into reality at the sight of the glass overflowing, the water trickling into the sink. he groaned, shutting off the sink and drying his hand.

he grabbed the glass, then returned back to the bedroom. he gently set the glass down then looked at margaret once before he left.

her lips were slightly parted as she peacefully slept. she was still on her side. good girl, he thought. she clutched the blanket tightly with her fist, pulling it to her chest while in her sleep.

carmen turned to leave when he stubbed his toe on the nightstand, causing a picture frame to fall over that was resting on the nightstand.

“fuck.” he said under his breath, grabbing his foot and squeezing it.

“carmen?” margaret mumbled, slowly waking up.

carmen let out a strained “yeah” in response as he held his foot. margaret smiled at him, even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness of the room.

“what are you doing?” she asked, sitting up.

carmen let out a big sigh before answer, his toe still throbbing, “i was refilling your water.”

“oh, alright.” she gave a curt nod, still knowing he couldn’t really see her.

“yup.”

her nose stung as she began to speak, a sign that she was tearing up. “i just wanted to thank you again for just being nice to me tonight.” her glossy eyes flicked to carmen’s silhouette.

“hey hey, it’s fine. it’s really no big deal.” he reassured her quickly, “i don’t know why you’re getting emotional.”

“cause i’m drunk.” she said bluntly, throwing her hands up. she paused again before speaking, “you’re just so…” she paused again.

carmen hung onto her last words, waiting for what she had to say.

“just so…stern.” she said, laying back down. “i’m not used to seeing ‘nice carmen’ ever. even outside of the kitchen.” carmen heard her lay back down and took that as his que to leave.

“it’s my job to be stern. compare what i’ve done to what you’ve done. i don’t mean it in an insulting way but just an observation.” he tried to give a light chuckle to lighten up the mood but he instantly regretted his word choice as it came out of his mouth.

“wow.” margaret said quietly as she turned back to her side.

carmen wanted to opened his mouth to fix the damage he’d unintentionally caused but it stayed shut.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that, maggie.” he finally said as he quietly retreated from the room and back to the couch.

he huffed as he sat back down and readjusted the blanket. “why the fuck would you say that?” he scolded to himself.

-

NOTE: this is my first time writing so please let me know what you liked and where i need to improve!! thank you!

much love,

marlowe

[unlikelyjapan]

s2e8 rewatch notes

I've been living under a rock this week, but I did do a dive into Bolognese.

I've noticed there's only sunlight in the dining room when Syd and Carmy are together - otherwise it's always cast in a pale blue or artificial hue during the daytime. There's so much uncertainty in the opening scene, with Syd surveying the in-progress landscape by herself, like she knows it might be all for not.

Cut to Carmy stimmying alone in the kitchen. Claire's "you alright?" and Carmy's blank expression "Yeah, I'm alright" followed by Claire whispering "everything's fine" - others have touched eloquently on the infantalization, but so much of their relationship is dependent on her telling him how to feel. She asks him about the NICET level-2 exam, and he trails off mid-way because he really doesn't want to be discussing this with her - it punctures the love bubble.

Claire can feel the hesitation marks - re: with him sharing about his work, about his relationship/situationship with her, and that's what spawns the abrupt "never, ever apologize" - she's effectively telling him "you don't need to say anything" so she can continue being in control of their narrative. She's emotionally intuitive enough to see he's mentally in anguish,  and she's trying to protect the connection at all costs by denying him any opportunity to experience/feel that anguish.

I don't think her actions are nefarious, it's just that when someone really REALLY wants someone else, they're bound to manipulate their emotions. We see it in her helping flip the narratives about the cannoli too - it's very much a "change the angles/change the lighting" move on something that is actually big . fucking. deal - it's projected like she's simply invested in Carmy's improvement, but it's also incredibly self-serving.

UGH the whispering. On second viewing, I can view it more as intentional discomfort, but it's still like being spit-roasted in CW Network hell.

"Lay my Love" John Cale and Brian Eno playing - "I am the crow of desperation, I need no fact or validation" - the whole song is about the relentlessness (and shadiness) of getting someone to love you back. Carmy suppresses who he is (and what he's feeling) to be with Claire, Claire aids in suppressing Carmy's feelings and completely sublimates her own need for everything (other than Carmy) to get him to want to be with her.

Tina & Ebra - yay, I love witnessing platonic friendships/working partnerships! /s

Someone please cross-stitch me an "Old bitches like their bitch ways" pendant to hang in my kitchen. Beyond that, there's not much to analyze in this scene - Ebra seems to feel more shame than resentment in his need to stay fixed. This is such a great interlude for the episode - showing that failure is tolerated within the found family, there's a place for everyone etc.

The fire suppression test is the shoe that doesn't drop for Carmy (so it emboldens him - the world didn't end, he's safe, so he immediately jumps into a defined relationship 2 weeks from open at the end of the episode) while Syd understands that the test just means they have permission to begin the first leg of their journey.

Hence, her response to "Just thinking about the fire suppression test" is a broader "Controlling the zone, staying calm, creating space, trust" - "How do we do this?" Carmy defers to her for the emotional labor of running The Bear - again. He figures he's there to deliver her things that impress her and elevate her (his talented palate, the chaos menu, a chef's coat, her star via his cache) - so naturally he thinks it's mission accomplished as soon as they have clearance to open.

Talking about the potential of failing the suppression test, they say "We are fucked" - in unison. When Sydney echos Carmy, he cops another sneaky glance at her face (sorry, I'm graphically feeble so I didn't grab a shot) not unlike the scene where they're talking in the kitchen. Contrasting this with the mumbled anxiety conversation with Claire, this conversation gives him strength - when they have these synchronistic moments, Carmen feels incredibly seen and heard.

"The best offenses have the ability to reset and adapt on a dime."

"We can do that though."

"We have to."

Well, one of them achieved this. Sydney is the offense. Carmy is the defense. Sydney is adapting to all the travails set up in the process of opening the restaurant - including Carmy - attempting to score a win. Carmy is blocking her from that win, but he's a shitty defense because his whole schtick is impressing Syd ironically taking Coach K to heart in his personal life. I think back to the intro-interview I transcribed at the beginning of Forks (from Coach's interview):

The very first thing is that in order to get better you change limits. And when you change limits, you're going to look bad and you're going to fail. And at West Point I learned that failure was never a destination. In other words, when you are knocked back, you know, figure out why, then change.

Carmy changed the limits in so many things - in his boundaries in relationships (with both Syd and Claire), opening his own restaurant, and reaching for more of life in general. He's failing, as expected - but he's also failing to play defensively, to figure out the why- the wind is just sort of carrying him along.

They also reinforce in the same talk that "you're not going to get there alone" -  he's simultaneously trying to do this with Syd (as a "team" as it exists in his mind) and FOR Syd (laying what she's asked for at her feet like a sad cat seeking praise when she really just wanted him to listen).

"Carmy said he was going to handle it" - ahaha, I get it. The fridge handle comes off - Carmy constantly says "I'll handle it." Someone in the writer's room earned a cracker.

By this point, you can tell everyone on the team is exasperated by his absentee B.S, even if half of them are enablers.

"I was going to surprise you" - oooh Marcus.

"I see you with the olive oil" - Syd calling back to the apartment kitchen scene in s1e8.

The smile dissipates from Marcus' face instantly after Syd tries the dessert and Carmen interjects with the dextrose. These man hoes are so messy - I don't care what the Hollywood Reporter cranks out, I write it as I see it.

Marcus resets and the smile comes back when Carmen looks at his dessert and says "very yes", but not with the same intensity.

Also, so much for the Coach K "don't make excuses" - when Syd accosts Carmy about the fridge door, he immediately discusses his 'gnarly panic attack' - from one angle, he's learning to open up on his trauma via his relationship with Claire, but he's also using subtle manipulation to evade responsibility for things.

"She's a girl who's a FRIEND??" - Syd

"She's a girlfriend? You think?" - Carmy

"Oooh." - Syd

"Ooooh. Okay. Uh. Next" - Marcus

If you follow this up later with Marcus saying "That's healthy" re: the cannoli with solemn eyes, one begins to intuit that he doesn't think much of Carmy beyond boss-guy by this point (I mean, neither do others right now, but he's been in Europe).

He attributes Copenhagen to Syd (which, fair enough, it was her idea, but it was a window into Carmy's life orchestrated by Carmy) and you can tell the writers are playing with the tension by this point. Carmy as buffer/barrier. He only breaks the tension when Carmen says "for real" after trying the Copenhagen sundae - Carmy's expertise still means something to Marcus.

Richie's apology to Natalie - for Everything. "For a long time I didn't know where I fit, and I would shove myself into, like, places and things where I definitely did not fit. And I think that that probably....definitely....made things worse. And I'm sorry if I took anything out on you and if I treated you like shit."

In summary - sorry for injecting myself into your family for years and riling everyone up and manipulating the whole family dynamic. Sorry for aiding in Mikey's downfall. Sorry for aiding in Carmy's downfall.  Sorry for not protecting you amidst all that. Sorry for all my "Van Halen" shit at work trying to compensate for what I lost with your family, with my own family I tried to build.

"That's why you're wearing the suit?"

"Um....I'm wearing the suit because it makes me feel better about myself."

I like that Natalie appreciates the visual confirmation that Richie is trying to be better, to practice self-love - she knows that's the inverse of The Beef and the Berzattos. And hearing Richie say "I need this place to work" and Gary echoing "WE need this place to work" is Natalie's first confirmation she's probably heard that the team isn't just her and Syd. She becomes so much lighter after this scene.

Syd rolling her eyes after hearing Carmy say he "had to draw them because the heat was off" - she's a technical and practical person, and you can tell that it's mildly aggravating (in that lovingly jealous way) that creative pursuits come to Carmy so easily. She has to absorb inspiration and creativity through observation and study, whereas with him it's self-contained.

Carmy cuts the tape as he's getting fired up/enthusiastic with Syd - noticing the details again, getting into the zone, and smiling.

Originally, the golem in me was like "haha, he ignored the lame "level 2 baby!" text from Claire, but I now realize that he reads it and then immediately leaves that "zone" - he again pushes labor onto Sydney regarding his Iberico hook-up  "uh yeah - I'll give you his number, and uh, you can go ahead and you can call him." He was stoked seconds ago, he finally seemed absorbed in his space and his work - this man is so conflicted.

"This looks kinda like a chaos menu"

"Well no, it's like, it's a thoughtful chaos menu."

"Oh."

"Look, Claire and I, we were talking about it last night, and she-she made me realize that maybe I'm clinging onto some things that....I don't know, maybe, I just, I don't care that much about anymore"

I just noticed that he looks directly into Syd's eyes as he says the last sentence - dagger to the heart of their partnership from her POV.

"And this is good, right? Because this is what you wanted."

*this is a 'your cat dropping a dead bird on your carpet' moment*

"Yo why are you being like that?

I feel like Syd's perspective on the fight has been amply analyzed on here, I have no notes.

I found it more interesting that Carmy starts ranting more hurt and emotional than he's ever sounded talking to her before. "I'm sorry, I like, fucking hated Cannoli's my whole life and now..."

*Cue ASL* "STOP. Stop."

He was about to spill his guts for her here. He can't understand why she's upset (I did this for you), he doesn't understand why she's mad about Claire (she was my sounding board for your ideas, she's not my girlfriend!), and he wants to share with her how he got here (Syd's menu, built for Syd - his pain converted into something healing).

Ugh - Syd's "you need to decide if this person is a girlfriend or girl that's a friend" demand for an answer being interpreted as an instruction. Again, it's been discussed to death, but now there are so many dead birds on the carpet to clean up.

The Crane Wife by The Decemberists plays as Carmen enters the fridge and asks Fak if Claire is his girlfriend. I feel like "I hate Fak's meddling ass"  is going to be inscribed on my tombstone by loved ones at this point, but it doesn't need to be discussed - the whole thing is beautifully broken down with the meaning behind the song here. (Ugh, I've lost the link! Whoever has this post flagged come forward so I can link it/give credit? It was perfect.)

The interjection with Richie (doing Carmy's bidding) in having Sydney approve putting Mikey's dying note to Carmen on the line though? Jesus H. Christ - it's not even that they pan to a scene with Sydney after Carmen says "I love her a lot?" re: Claire, it's literally about Syd having the final say as to WHETHER HIS DEAD BROTHERS LOVE LETTER TO HIM IS OKAY TO BE ON THE LINE.

I feel like this scene was a win for the sydrichies too, and I earnestly I don't know what they were doing there - the compliments, the only-child dialogue. "It's nice that you have Syd and Nat" "Yeah, now you do too"

But she says "thanks for asking" to Richie - even though it was Carmy asking her if this massive thing was okay. There's a wall (the one just rebuilt) between Syd and Carmy after the kitchen conversation, things are moving through Richie as the conduit now. Richie is her partner while Carmy is MIA.

Cicero and Natalie in the car:

"Appraisal on the lot came back".....

"But here's where things, uh, get funky, right? .... skyrocketing interest rates"

Remember the Olivia Coleman scene where she was talking about the market crashing and her initial dream restaurant getting killed? More foreshadowing for S3 I guess.

"Hey, if you were to have kids all over again, what would you do?"

"Oh, honey, I wouldn't have them......"  "You know, Nat, I'd um...what would I do? I would want them to be....not so fucking afraid of things, you know? I'd protect them less. Yeah. I'd want em to have more fun, make more mistakes. Get into more fuckin' trouble, you know? I don't know how to do it...but that, that's what I'd do."

Although Cicero smells blood in the water, he's The Bears daddy (and probably the closest thing to a father that Richie, Carmy and Natalie have now) - I think he wants to push them, he'll let them make mistakes, but he won't let them become "a story of complete and utter failure" I believe. And so does Natalie.

As the sign changes to "10 days to open"

Carmy "What are you guys doing?"

Natalie "Just staring at some stuff" as her and Syd go over the calendar. They're alone together in work again.

The inner narratives of each character during the fire suppression countdown are so revealing:

Syd - Restaurant closure signs, old boxes of Sheridan Road paperwork, her father grasping her shoulders in comfort as she looks away from him, seemingly insecure/dejected. (Fear of failure dominates)

Natalie - Bills and IRS statements piling up, her mother torturing her 5 years earlier, cuddling with Pete on the couch and looking peaceful. (Fear of moving backwards dominates)

Ebra - Being praised with "He's learning!" and putting on his Original Beef shirt with a smile. (Nostalgia dominates- fear of change)

Marcus - Smiling at the beef, tasting his own dessert, taking care of his mother in the hospital. (Comfort dominates - fear of loss)

Tina - "I'm grateful for all y'all motherfuckers" hugging Richie, laughing at family meal. (Love dominates)

Richie - Tiff saying "You're going to be such a cute dad", family snaps with a picture of Claire holding and smiling at Eva front-and-center (!!!), laughing at family meal. (Loss dominates - also living vicariously through Carmy with Claire or!? What a weird fucking montage, someone please explain)

Fak - The balloon popping repeatedly (Fear of immediate failure...)

Carmy - The stove burners, the burning frozen food at his apartment, the portrait of the bear he drew, Mikey's face when he received it, the flames licking the wall at the beef, the clock at 11:51, his eyes vacantly reflecting the flames, pictures of Natalie/Donna/Cicero/himself as a kid, Mikey smiling deranged, Michelle telling him "keep going", the flash of the red kitchen clock as the examiner says "3" (wow....this gets its own post in a bit, it's late)

Then it's just interspersed shots of Carmy nodding and Sydney's nostrils flaring as they count down the remaining numbers.

The aftermath/the hugs have been well-dissected, I'll leave it to others.

Song lyrics during restaurant cooking montage

I will come to you in the daytime

I will raise you from your sleep

I will kiss you in four places

As I go runnin' down your street

I will squeeze the life right out of you

You will make me laugh and make me cry

And though we try to forget it

You will make me call your name

As I shout it into the blue summer sky

And we may never meet again

So shed your skin and lets get started

And you will throw your arms around me

Song lyrics from "I gotta go call my girlfriend"

I have dreamed of you in the daytime (Claire working the ER)

And I have watched you in your sleep (Carmy grocery shopping)

I met you in high places (Carmy cooking while wearing his The Beef shirt - regression much?)

Touched your head and touched your feet (Syd scrubbing the floor)

And though I disappear from out of you (Claire leaving the ER)

And though I disappear from out of you (Sydney on transit watching the game - announcer says "they need a miracle")

And though I try to forget it (Carmy cooking/shredding cheese)

You will make me call your name (Sydney getting home)

As I shout it into the blue summer sky (Sydney getting undressed, revealing the 3 of Swords tattoo - Claire walking in and kissing Carmy)

"We may never meet again" (goes to black)

Apologies if someone already broke all of this down, but what in the heavy-handed fuck is this?

[imliterallyjustablackgirl]

Yeah, that was a set up * nicki's voice*

The reason why I say Claire meeting Syd was a setup. It's because it challenges everything we know about these three people's relationship. Why would Carmy react that way to Syd leaving right after he asked everyone to leave? Carmen thought he could ditch Claire on Syd, lmfao, I will stick on it, that's why he got taken back that her reaction was to leave him alone with her. To let him handle it. It was a set up, inconscient or not.

We talk about Carmen's fear of Sydney leaving but in their post they dabble in Syd's fear of Carmen rejecting her admiration. I think it's fascinating we see Syd show admiration for Carmen's career in his apartment, about his whites and he gets her Thom chef's coat.  I feel in a way, it reassured her that their love of cooking could be shared and her enthusiasm is seen as her eagerness being satisfied instead of pushed down. So when he ditched her, I think that really triggered something. - It's an orange because I want to get back to that

Is this the reaction you were excepting? What the interesting from Richie meant? Why did Claire make that face?- it felt like a secret girl exchange. If I was Claire, I would question ''This is Claire, introduction'' . The rest of the Ber' knows her, Syd doesn't know her, and that presentation doesn't even explain who she is. @chefkids gif: What was that face?

Look at their colors, the way the scene is shot. The awkwardness emitting from Carmy, like caught in a lie. Claire's stance reminds me of a teenager girl caught with her boyfriend wanting to do the hoopla and realizing there's people home so they will have to wait. The Bear was treated in the scene like it's in the middle and not the other way around.

Gif from @songkangsbottomteethcirca2020  Carmen is wearing the same shirt he had at the apartment scene with Syd, it looks like, Claire sharing their colour palette...A couple's color palette, please- it's written on the mf wall, denial is a river in Egypt, ur hubby is in love with his partne- I just started to dissect this scene-

[hobeemin]

midsummer

💐 genre(s): urban fantasy, romance, smut, hybrid au, fluff (so much)

💐 pairing: faun!kim seokjin x poc(f)reader 

💐 summary: once a year on the summer soltice, the veil between the realms thins. the couple can finally walk among the world without a care. what happens during midsummer, stays on midsummer.

💐 rating: 18+

💐 warning(s): swearing, exhibitionism, pet names, hickies, breast play, cock warming, dirty talk, penetration, unprotected sex (psa wrap it up), shooky being shooky

💐 word count: 2.3k

💐 credits: 💜 a special thanks to @kthpurplesyou​ , bee thank you so much for beta reading this fic!! 💜

banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3

💐 a/n: this is sort of a sequel to my fic Moon. i’d suggest reading that before this to understand what is going on 💜

for @btshoneyhive honey harvest cheers to another year with bhh. happy anniversary! 🎊🎉

“Jin, I’m home!” Y/N walked into her apartment, kicking her shoes off as she hung her coat on the hook and tossed her keys into the bowl near the door.

She didn’t have to go far to find the Faun, as something delicious intrigued her senses, making her walk into the kitchen. She leaned in the doorway, watching as he chopped some vegetables before dropping them into a pan on the stove. Her lips curled into a smile as he cooked, too lost in his task to notice her. She was still in awe from the first time they met. And just as before, he wore his favorite sweatpants, sans any other clothing, minus the apron wrapped snug around his waist. 

Y/N crept up slowly behind, wrapping her arms around him, and stood on tiptoes to kiss the shell of his ear. Jin froze before a smile appeared on his lips? He lifted her easily without missing a beat and kissed her deeply. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, grinning into the kiss, happy to be back in his arms.

He pulled away, rubbing his nose against hers. “Well, hello there.”

“Hi to you too,” she said, giving him a quick peck.

“You just get in?”

“Mhmm. I called your name but got distracted by the view,” she teased with a wink.

He laughed, setting her back down. “How was work?”

“Eh, more or less productive,” she answered. “Hobi stopped by during my lunch break, so we went out to eat.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Not bad. He says hello and wants to hang out again at some point.”

It had been almost three years since Jin appeared in her life. She wanted a fresh start after a bad breakup and moving across town.

And a fresh start she received indeed.

Jin fell into her life. Literally.

After a nasty bump on the head, Y/N could see this magical man; the rest was history. 

Due to his…nature, being seen publicly by any mortals would lead to chaos. That was the last thing he wanted for her. Of course, there was an initial shock when Hoseok met him. It took a while, but her friend grew accustomed to the Faun and became the best of friends. 

Y/N opened the cabinet rummaging through the different spices and handed it to him. “It’s awfully quiet here. Where’s Shooky?”

“Sleeping out on the fire escape,” he answered, stirring the vegetables.

Y/N grabbed a carrot stick from the cutting board and leaned against the counter. She chewed quietly, watching him. “Want some more help?”

Jin shot her a knowing look, making her laugh. Right. He was particular about cooking. And while he did love when Y/N was his sous chef, they’d become distracted, and then the food would burn or dry out. She put her hands up.

“Alright. Point made.”

He smiled warmly, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. “I promise to let you know when it’s ready.”

“Works for me; I’ll go wash this grime away.”

As the water cascaded down, Y/N contemplated her situation. 

Shaking her hair out of the shower cap, Y/N went to the fire escape. Her loveable but sassy Bombay cat Shooky was resting near her plants. Ears twitching, the cat opened his eyes. He stretched and walked up to her, purring as he rubbed her leg. She giggled and reached down to scratch behind his ears.

“Well, aren’t you being sweet today? You must want something.”

Shooky stopped purring and glared at her. “Hardly. I can’t just be happy to see you.”

Y/N snorted as she continued scratching his ears. “I’ll let you be sweet for now.”

Shooky rolled his eyes before plopping himself in her lap and napping. Y/N looked out at the view watching the twinkling lights of  the skyline as twilight approached. 

Jin stuck his head out, a faint smile on his lips when he saw Y/N dozing off with Shooky in her lap. He almost didn’t want to wake her, but he leaned in, kissing her forehead to wake her up. She stirred, opening her eyes as a sleepy smile appeared.

“Did I fall asleep?”

“Mmhmm. Dinner is ready. Or do you want me to put a plate up for you, Princess?”

She shook her head just as Shooky woke up and stretched his body. “No, I’ll join you.”

Once Shooky jumped from her lap, Jin helped her back through the window and towards the dining room table. He set the table, ensuring the food was arranged beautifully on the plates. Y/N filled Shooky’s bowls before taking her seat as Jin grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack. He poured them each a glass as they settled into their meal. Y/N took a bite as her eyes closed in euphoria.

“This is delicious.”

“I’m happy you like it, Princess.” 

They made small talk as they finished their dinner, and Y/N washed the dishes before joining Jin on the couch. He pulled her onto his lap, kissing her cheek as he turned to a movie they wanted to watch. Y/N settled her head into his lap, and he stroked her hair. 

“So what do you and Hobi plan to do?”

“A festival coming up next week seemed pretty cool.”

“Oh? What festival?”

Y/N reached over to grab her phone and scrolled through her messages. “Um, a Midsummer festival.”

His eyes widened. “Midsummer?”

“Uh-huh.”

His brows knitted in confusion as he began to mutter to himself. “Midsummer? Already? Couldn’t be.”

Y/N twisted to look up at him with concern. “Jin, what’s wrong?”

He glanced at her as a small smile appeared. “Nothing. Seriously.”

“Are you sure?”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his face. Y/N tried not to worry, but Jin had one of the most expressive faces. If he was upset or happy, it showed on his face.

The week went by without issues until she came home one day to Jin and Hoseok whispering to each other. They stopped talking once she entered the living room and returned to playing their video game.

“That wasn’t suspicious at all,” she commented as she placed her bags down.

Hoseok chuckled, giving Jin a long glance. “How was work, Y/N?”

“It was work. How was y’alls day?”

Jin pressed the pause button, but to Hobi’s dismay, and finally looked at his girlfriend. “Good. Are you busy this weekend?”

Y/N walked over to scan the calendar on the corkboard. She shook her head, turning back towards him. 

“No. I’m free this weekend. Why?”

“Just be ready around seven and dress up. I’m taking you out on a date.”

Her jaw almost reached the ground.

---

“Jin?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“Are you sure it’s safe to be out here?”

He turned to look at her with a grin. “Of course.”

“But–”

“Do you notice anything?”

“Notice what?”

“Exactly. No one is looking at me.”

He was right. No one gave him a second glance. It felt strange. The horns on his head didn’t cause any alarm. The Faun was finally out in public with his girlfriend. As they sat there at the restaurant enjoying each other’s company, Jin couldn’t help but feel relieved. He could finally be out in public with Y/N.

“So why can we be out like this?” she asked as they walked through town.

Jin brought her hand to his lips, giving her an endearing smile. “It’s midsummer night, Princess. The longest night is during the summer solstice. I can walk around and be seen, but not as a Fae.”

Kissing her hand, he noticed it calmed her as they continued their walk.

“So where are we going?”

Jin chuckled softly, squeezing her hand. “It's a surprise.”

She quirked her brow at him inquisitively. She didn’t enjoy surprises, but she trusted that Jin wouldn’t do something too extreme. As they walked through the town, she noticed as they approached a park with a gazebo in the middle. The gasp that left her lips was enough evidence for Jin to know she was pleased. 

Fairy lights tingled around the railings with flowers and ivy wrapped around them. A table was set with the works, champagne chilling in a bucket as soft music played from the speakers.

Y/N turned to look at Jin in disbelief. “Why? How?”

He reached up to stroke her cheek with his thumb. “Hoseok helped me set this up.”

“This is beautiful,” she whispered.

“Hardly pales in comparison to you, Princess,” he replied.

Her face heated up from his words, and he laughed at how cute her response was. He led her to one of the chairs and helped her into the seat before taking his own. Y/N was in awe, looking around the gazebo.

They outdid themselves. She made a mental note to get Hoseok. He could never keep a secret, so it was amazing how he held it in.

Now that she was here, Jin had become visibly nervous. They enjoyed the grilled vegetables and chicken meal as small talk carried on. He fiddled with the napkins while trying to think of something to say.

“–Jin?”

He blinked a few times. “I’m sorry?”

Y/N looked at him curiously. “Are you okay? You seem quiet.”

He gave her a small smile before clearing his throat and drinking some water. It was now or never. “Y/N?”

“Yes?” 

Jin stood from his seat and buttoned his jacket. Clearing his throat again, he held his hand out for her to take. Y/N wiped her mouth and grabbed his hand as he walked her over to one of the archways. Staring into her eyes, it calmed him down a bit.

“Y/N, we've been through some tough times. I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through before we met, but since then, I never wanted to see you cry again. These three years have been the best time of my life, and I want to continue this journey with you.”

Was this happening? Y/N was speechless as she listened to Jin. It was happening.

Jin dropped to one knee, holding a small box covered in crushed velvet. As he opened it, she let out a choked sob. The rose gold band glittered with garnet gems. 

“Will you marry me, Princess?”

Still fighting back the tears, her head bobbed. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Seokjin.”

He slipped the ring on with care before pulling her into his arms. It seemed as if time stopped. It wasn’t until his lips brushed hers that she was taken out of her trance. She gripped the front of his shirt, deepening the kiss. Jin groaned into the kiss letting his tongue swipe her lips. Y/N obliged, moaning softly. Jin shuddered as soon as her hands left his chest and reached to caress his horns.

He broke their kiss, breathing hard.

“You know what that does to me?”

“Of course, I do, Jin,” she cooed softly.

Growling, he gripped her waist and shoved her against a pillar. “So you want to do this right out in the open?”

A mischievous grin crossed her face. “Sounds tempting.”

She leaned closer, nipping his neck as he bit down on his lip. “I promise not to be too loud.”

Jin panted as he pulled up her dress with a smirk. “Fuck that. I want everyone to know now.”

Y/N wasted no time unzipping his pants. So much franticness at the moment, wanting only to reach one goal together.

Not much prep work was needed as Jin’s cock slapped out onto his stomach, the cum dribbling down an angry head. Y/N licked her lips as she slipped her panties down. Jin grabbed them, putting them in his back pocket. Grinning, he hiked up her leg, wrapping it around his waist. Jin slipped past her folds with one fluid motion after getting her consent. His head dropped to her shoulder as expletives flew from his lips.

“So tight, Princess. And all for me.”

“Uh-huh. M-Move Jin. P-Please,” she begged.

His hips snapped forward as lustful noises erupted in the gazebo. Jin settled between the swell of her breasts, licking, sucking, nipping her flesh as marks began to bloom. Y/N’s nails dug into his shoulders, holding on for dear life—skin slapping skin. 

Promises pass their lips in their haze of pleasure. 

“I love you, Princess,” he murmured.

“I-I l-love you too, Jin. Fuck, right there. Yes!”

“I wanna cum deep in that pussy. May I, Princess? Can I fill you up?”

“Yes! Please!”

He slowed his movements, letting her feel every inch. Her walls clenched around him as he kissed her feverishly. 

“I’m so close, Jin. P-Please,” she purred into his ear.

“Cum with me, Princess,” he husked out.

At that moment, as his movements stuttered, Y/N clamped around his cock as she felt the spring unravel. Gasping, she cried out as Jin let out a long groan; he twitched before painting her walls white, filling her to the brim.

They lay against the pillar catching their breath, until Jin gently placed her on the ground, holding her up. Y/N pecked his lips as a sigh of contentment passed her lips. Jin stroked her hair, smiling at her.

“How are you feeling?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I never excepted to be engaged or even have sex outside in a park.”

Jin’s distinct laugh had him tipping his head back. “Okay, the latter was not planned, but I have to say, now that I know you like exhibitionism–”

“Aht. Aht. Let’s not get carried away. I got caught in the moment.”

“It was a great moment.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You lucky I love you.”

Jin kissed her forehead, nuzzling her cheek. “I love you too, Princess.”

[thebardisabird]

Okay okay, I love this?! I have to make it a headcanon post though because I feel like a written out scenario would be chaotic and a little too hard to follow, so I hope that's okay! MATSUS CRASH A WEDDING LET'S GOOO, under the cut:

Leave it to Osomatsu to overhear some dude spill the details on his wedding at his bachelor party and make plans to crash the thing. Rounding up the buys, all six of them slip into the wedding venue unnoticed. Well none of them were invited, so wtf are they doing at this wedding?! Osomatsu

Immediately hits on the bridesmaids - he figures at least a few of them might be single and at least one is willing to have a one night stand, right? Right?! 

When that doesn’t work, it’s off to the bar (if there is one) to knock back whatever they’ve got. If there’s nothing to drink, he’ll move on to shooting his shot with cousins or even a widowed aunt if she’s halfway decent 

Ends up locking himself out of the venue at one point and has to literally climb the building to get back in (almost falls off twice on the way up).

Karamatsu 

Yes he brought his guitar, yes his suit is blue and yes he attempts to play Sugar by Maroon 5 because he saw the music video and thought that was a genius thing to do for a wedding.

Tanks the wine and cheese available for the guests and does his very best to strike conversation with whoever is nearby, swishing his glass as he does. 

Accidentally spills his drink on the bride and immediately runs off to the bathroom to hide for a half hour so that he can be sure no one saw or suspects him.

Choromatsu

Has to corral his brothers for the most part and that’s why he’s here - or at least that’s what tells himself as he partakes in some of the pastries at the finger food buffet.

Does actually end up screaming at Osomatsu and apologizing to a number of women for his crassness. 

Bumps into one of the server girls by accident and she ends up dropping a bunch of silverware. He freaks out in a string of apologies and dips down to help her; the two share a movie moment as they kind of connect through eye contact, but that is instantly ruined by Osomatsu attempting to drunkenly play leapfrog with him. The server girl is never seen again after that. 

Ichimatsu 

Has dipped his fingers in the wedding cake more than once because he’s astounded about how delicious the frosting is. 

Very much stands off in the corner otherwise, it’s already loud and crowded enough and he doesn’t want any part of it.

Alternatively, he ends up in the kitchen with the venue culinary staff, standing in for the head chef. He’s barking orders and cooking up a storm in his white coat - very much Gordon Ramsay style.

Jyushimatsu 

You’ll probably find him amongst the children at first, running around and playing tag or hide and seek. 

At one point ends up in the dance circle only for everyone to give him very weird looks at first because they have no idea who he is.

But as soon as he starts breakdancing and ends the routine with a headspin, the wedding guests go absolutely NUTS with cheers.

Todomatsu

Is ALSO talking to the bridesmaids, but unlike his older brother, is super chill about it. 

Almost gets the opportunity to ask one of them out on a date until both Osomatsu and Choromatsu smack his phone into a cup of water, to which Todomatsu immediately has a meltdown.

Sits in the corner sobbing with his poor cell in a bowl of rice for the remainder of the reception.

[deadboyfriendd]

Brave | E.M.

I write this lil fic-let one shot Drabble thing for @luveline . Jade has been providing us with some *Chefs Kiss* top notch work always. I saw someone finally ask her what she wanted to see written, so I snaked one of the prompts from her response. ily Jade thank you for putting out banger after banger for us &lt;3

There is a stark difference in your personage when you cross the threshold of the nearly-cardboard trailer walls. It was as if they were a portal and not mere plywood and tin. Corrugated bravery. A diamond in the rough. 

He took notice of the way your legs crossed at the ankles instead of the knees. You breathed a little deeper and hunched a little further. You discarded your own rigidity at the door like a woolen coat, discarding the itch of your own painful self-awareness with it. 

Out there, your words were careful and calculated, kept at a minimal volume and never daring. Your words came out in the most Times New Roman-esque way he could possibly think of. Your face was a stone, keeping every semblance of composure you could muster at any given time. Out there, you were graceful. 

Here, though, you seemed more organic. Your words were slightly more abstract, coming out of your throat as it came to your mind. Here, you were more obnoxious, you laughed from your core, your body moved with it in a calculated dance. Your face was a mirror image of your brain. 

He felt lucky. He was a Cour de Miracles insider watching you peel the leprosy-laden sore of your own hyper awareness back. He never looked for too long, this rare state still wavering in your own insecurity. .

Eddie ebbed and flowed with whatever person you decided to be that day. He always had a coat to match your hat. He loved every version of you, even if he did it in silence. 

But tonight, you were a republic of voices. He knew how you would react to this mixtape- you always reacted this way to this mixtape. Head accepted long ago that music was your first love, and that even he couldn’t scrape past it in the confines of your heart. 

He laid back, the hum of the speakers fading into the background as he tried to feel the vibrato of your voice in his chest- so stark from your usual barely-above-whisper notes. 

“I love when you’re like this.”

The phrase slipped from his mouth- his speculation missing the filter and funneling into the direct pipeline from his brain to his mouth and spilling from his lips like a broken dam. 

“Like what?” You questioned, body already buzzing less than it had been seconds ago. 

“When you get excited. You talk louder.” He explained, knowing he was already in deeper than he expected. 

“Oh… sorr-”

“No, honey. Not sorry. Never have to be sorry with me.” 

He was quick to reach out, arms sliding across your triceps and around your back- arms a blanket of please, thank you, I’m sorry, and I love you. Moreso the latter part. 

Your head rested just below his collarbone, on the plush of his chest. All of the smells that made you wrinkle your nose in distaste now smelled like home. Behind the fresh burn of the still-lingering cigarette smoke, Eddie smelled so distinctly human. He radiated warmth like the best parts of a sunburn. He was all of the best things about the human experience in one tangible being. 

“Hey, Eddie?” You asked, pulling your face off of the soft warmth of him. 

“Yes?” He asked, chin wrinkling when he pulled back to took at you- his arms never leaving your back fully. 

“Do you like me better when I’m… ugh, I don’t know… like this?” You asked, sheepishly, your arms snaking between two bodies to bury your face in. 

“What do you mean?” He ran his hand gently up and down your back, slow, in a you’re okay kind of way. 

“Do you wish I was braver?” You asked, noise muffled from between your hands. He reached up to pull them from your face, wrists locked in a grasp. 

“Sweetheart, absolutely not. Where did this come from?” His gaze was intense, eyes worried and brows furrowed in concern. His expression, though worrisome, radiated nothing but love from its confines. 

“I don’t know, I just- ugh, don’t you wish you were with someone like you?” You asked, more broken than before. You willed the tears not to fill your eyes, especially not at something a remedial as the tone of your voice. 

“Like me how?” He mimicked your tone, his own growing soft to match yours. 

“Oh come on, Eddie. Loud, walking around on tables and up on a stage… Brave.”

“No. I don’t. I fell in love with you. Didn’t I?” He asked, dropping his grip on one of your hands to smooth the hair on the back of your head in a loving cradle. He couldn’t help but to press a kiss, molasses sweet, to your forehead. 

“But do you love this part of me more?” You asked him, sheepishly. He felt his heart shatter in his chest. He wanted to rip it out and eat it if it meant you never felt like this again. 

“No.” He said, pressing a kiss to your lips. And then another. And then another. Each one a bandage for every pinprick against your own heart from insecurity. 

“I love every part of you.”

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

tta episode 10

“Last time, on Total Takes Action: our remaining contestants competed in a detective noir themed challenge to uncover a secret traitor within their very midst. Scary went bananas… again, and Scruffy got served a heaping dish of steaming hot reality. O was accused of the crime, but it was Max’s secret detective skills that pulled through and uncovered the real imposter… Fren! Or should I say Alistair, award-winning theater actor? Unfortunately for him, the Gilded Chris was not an award he won, and he was sent off the silver screen and back to the stage. Is anyone who they say they are? Find out now, on Total! Takes! Action!”

The craft services tent is dreary and quiet today, not a hint of conversation or comradery between the remaining contestants. 

Scruffy is seated far away from Scary, jogging in place in the corner of the tent. Scary is ignoring them, flipping through their notes and making additions and addendums. Max is reading something, his brow furrowed in concentration, O is busy spooning the morning breakfast slop, and Peter is sitting awkwardly by himself on the vacant end of the table. 

---

PETER: “Ever since Fren- sorry, I mean Al- left, it’s been dead quiet around here. Everyone left hates each other! Not only that, but since my last friend left the island… I’ve been completely alone.. I think this might be the first time I've spoken out loud in a week!”

---

O coughs. Scary wipes her nose on her lab coat sleeve. Peter looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel. 

Finally, the intercom crackles, and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Goooood morning, campers! If you’ll all join me in front of the craft services tent, we have a special treat for you today!”

Scruffy raises an eyebrow. “But- our next challenge is supposed to be-”

“Don't wet yourselves with terror just yet- this is not a challenge! Just for fun! And ratings!”

Scary rolls her eyes and snaps her notebook shut, walking outside with the rest of the cast. Only Scruffy lags behind, apparently disturbed by the sudden change in structure. 

"Do you really believe it's going to be nothing?" Peter asks Scruffy, tailing alongside them.

"Um... I guess... I mean, Chris works by a schedule, but he can be pretty unpredictable," the neon lime wonders aloud. "Maybe he'll invite us to a cozy dinner and drug us, and we'll wake back up on the island..."

Scruffy sighs dreamily while Peter quivers in terror.

---

SCRUFFY: "I haven't been on top of my game this season, and it's really making me miss the island. At least then I could predict what was coming... now, it's like Russian roulette with a fully-loaded barrel!"

---

Chris is standing with an unfamiliar camera crew right outside of the tent, chatting about shot lists and lighting. As the campers shuffle outside, he turns with a big smile. He’s wearing an odd pair of square glasses and a beret today. 

“Good morning, treasured and beloved children,” Chris speaks in a pleasant, soft tone. Behind him is a massive buffet loaded with every breakfast food imaginable- eggs, toast, bacon, pancakes and waffles of every variation, croissants, jams and butters and chocolate spreads, with pitchers of fresh squeezed orange juice lining the table-cloth covered surface. Chef is at one end of the buffet, setting down tiny plates and toothpicks, covered in bacon grease and sweat. “Did you all sleep well? Ready to enjoy your nutritious breakfast?”

The campers halt, looking between each other as if no one is quite sure if this is a mirage or not, like an oasis on the desert. Scruffy silently pumps their fist in the back.

Finally- “Did you hit your head or what?” Max asks bluntly. 

The host chuckles back. “Of course not,” he turns to the crew behind him. “The children get three vitamin-packed, nutritious meals every day. We have our own personal chef on standby, so everything is made fresh.”

Chef waves from the end of the table, little flecks of bacon grease flying off his fingers.

“I’m pretty sure there was a cockroach in the oatmeal this morning,” O mumbles to Max. He nods. 

Chris looks back to the campers. “Today we have a very special treat for you all. I’ve canceled the mindfulness and meditation, so you all better give your full attention to the very nice people from Reality, Weekly,”

Scruffy gasps. The campers look between each other, still in a shocked silence, now even more confused than before. Finally, Scary clears his throat. "Um, who?"

"WHO?!" Scruffy shouts from behind them, right into her ear. She claps her hands around her head and glares.

---

SCRUFFY: “Reality Weekly?! THE Reality Weekly?! North America and selective European countries’ number one reality TV gossip mag?! THEY RAN THE DUNCNEY VS. GWUNCAN STORY FOR YEARS! This is the most exciting day of my life, oh my God- I was right, staying in the game is WAY more important than 50 million dollars!”

---

“Can we get Nadie on set?” a stagehand yells. Two production assistants set up some chairs inside the trailers as the cast looks on.

"Make sure to be veeeery nice for the lovely television producers, and I'll see you all at your gourmet dinner tonight," Chris clasps his hands together and strains his words, trying to convey one thing to the remaining campers- behave. "Anyone who doesn't want to participate will see Chef in the, um... meditation tent."

The campers turn to see Chef sharpening a fish hook by the buffet. Chris wishes them good luck and walks off with a few sharply-dressed producers. 

"This is such [CENSORED]," Scary sighs.

"I knew it was a challenge..." Peter grumbles, taking a seat on the grass by the buffet table and dejectedly peeling an orange.

"Does this mean we're not getting drugged?" Scruffy pouts. "No matter- I've been preparing for my Reality, Weekly interview since I was six years old!"

They take a seat next to Peter, crossing their legs and smiling. "I used to practice in front of the mirror before school- of course, in those interviews, I was giving my winner's speech... but this is alright, too,"

Peter splits the orange in half and gives one handful of slices to Scruffy. "Did you always want to be on TV?"

"Oh, yes. I've known for years that Total Drama is my home!"

Scary coughs in the back. "Loser!"

Max elbows her and she lunges at him. Their growls and his screeches fade out as she chases him across the lot. Scruffy turns back to Peter. "What did you want to do?"

"Oh, a lot of things," Peter nods. "Doctor, psychologist, research scientist, teacher... people say I have a real knack for helping."

Scruffy makes a face. "Has helping people ever gotten you anywhere?"

Now it's O's turn to elbow him. He frowns disapprovingly and turns to Peter. "Well, I think that's wonderful, Peter. Maybe we can be therapists together!"

"Maybe!"

Scruffy rolls their eyes and shakes their head sadly. "Just not cut out for this game..."

The sound of a door opening catches the attention of the remaining players and they turn towards their sides. A young person dressed in a purple tank top and black pants comes out from the impromptu production tent set up outside the craft services tent, adjusting a lav mic and grinning widely. 

“Okay, who’s first?” they ask, flipping their braids over their shoulders. 

The campers look between each other. One tiny voice pipes up from the back of the crowd. “Ooh, me! Me!”

The interviewer ignores Scruffy and sighs, tapping their chin. “How about… Max. We have a lot of questions for him,”

Max screams from far away as Scary catches him.

"Can someone get him for me?"

---

The camera adjusts and focuses on Max sitting in front of a wall, the space cleared out for the interview. Nadie remains behind the camera, clearing their throat. “Good morning. I’m Canada, but you can also call me Nadie, if you want,”

“Your name is Canada?”

“Nadie for short. Shall we begin?”

---

NADIE: “Okay, so when I got this internship at Reality Weekly six months ago, I was so totally not expecting to get sent out to Toronto to interview the Total Takes cast- this is like a dream come true! My supervisor Sierra picked me specifically, because I’ve already seen all of Total Takes Island- five times!”

---

Nadie tries to contain the smile in their tone as they begin. “So, Max- what’s it like being back on the show?”

“Terrible,”

“Last episode, you said that you only came back to see your girlfriend, Michela- now that she’s gone, do you still want the money?”

He shrugs. “It couldn’t hurt. Might as well try while I’m still stuck in this hell hole,”

---

Outside the trailer, Scary, Scruffy, O, and Peter wait on the grass. A shaky, handheld camera records them, and Scary glares at it. 

“What, like we aren’t being recorded all the time on this damn set?”

The cameraman doesn’t respond. She groans and stands, walking back to the craft services tent. The camera turns and follows her, stopping every time she turns around. 

“Would you BUZZ OFF!” she finally yells, storming into the tent and zipping the flap behind her. 

Scruffy runs in front of the camera. “You can film me! Look at me! I loved your guys’ exposee piece on Sugar!”

The camera turns away. 

---

Max walks out of the trailer in a few minutes, and O is called in. 

The former walks past Peter and Scruffy waiting outside and locks himself in the communal bathroom. Scruffy groans in agony. 

"This is torture! No one here even cares... do you know how special being on Total Drama is? It's hard, yes, but... we're making history! We have fan clubs, people speculating about us and our relationships, magazines running stories on us... what part of that doesn't sound amazing?!"

"Um... all of it," O grumbles, sitting criss-cross in the grass while snacking on a baby muffin. "Is that really why you came here? To get famous?"

"Not really. I just wanted to... you know, experience it for myself," Scruffy sighs. "Why'd you come?"

"My therapist recommended it, thank you very much," he responds curtly. "And I think this place is a petri dish of potential clients in the future. After this season is done, we can start doing group therapy!"

"Geez, and you think I'm weird for obsessing over the show," Scruffy rolls their eyes. "But at least we can agree on one thing-"

O nods. "People here are crazy,"

---

“I guess meeting everyone has been fun,” O says, tapping his chin. “Peter is pretty chill, Scruffy is… um… I’ll pass on that. Max has his moments, but I see a lot of love in him, deep down,” O puts a hand over his heart. “Just the way he looks at Michela tells me that behind all that nerdy superiority, he’s got a good heart. Scary is a black tar pit of nothingness and she might’ve been forged in the depths of the sun.”

---

The camera films through the mesh craft services tent window as Scary sticks another fork in the wooden table at the center of the tent and digs it deep into the pliable surface. She takes out a rubber band and pulls it apart, creating a long, rubber string. They tie one end to one fork, and likewise to the other, then pulls it back with a small pebble. 

She grins as she releases the elastic and it flies across the tent, straight into the camera lens. 

---

SCARY: "What? I've been making some good progress here, and after last episode, I'm not taking any chances letting the wrong people see what I'm cooking up," they hold up their notebook and grin. "They'll see. They'll all see!" she laughs maniacally and then coughs. "But, as much as I hate to admit it, losing my assistant has taken me a step back. A scientist is only as good as their word, and in most cases, their word needs to be excessively reviewed and re-reviewed."

---

Scruffy runs a lap around the filming trailer, then another. Peter gets called inside and O walks out, stretching and retreating to the other trailer. 

---

“Scruffy is… well… they’re an enigma, let’s say that,” O scratches his chin. “They may be too far gone for even me to help.”

---

“I almost feel bad for them,” Peter says, hands in his lap. “They’re straining themself so hard, and I can tell when someone is about to snap…”

---

“Another formidable opponent lost to the insanity of Total Takes,” Max shakes his head. “A damn shame.”

---

"Wasted potential," Scary flicks a dustball off their lab coat.

---

Peter sits in the designated chair against the chosen backdrop, fidgeting nervously. 

“You doing alright, Peter?” Nadie asks, adjusting his lavalier mic and then stepping back. He nods sheepishly. “If you insist. First question… what’s it like making it this far in the game after being dropped so early from the competition in the first season?”

“Scary,” he says immediately. “Even scarier now that Fren is gone.”

“Were you two good friends?”

“He was nice to me,” Peter mumbles. “No one is nice to me… I mean, just off the bat.”

“How do you feel about Max’s influence over his elimination?”

“What do you mean?”

Nadie scratches her chin awkwardly. “Well… if he’d never been exposed, he’d still be here,”

Peter looks at his feet. “I guess I’ve… never thought about it that much…”

---

O rifles through a bag of chips from the kitchen, watching Scruffy pace back and forth and murmur to themselves like a madman. Scary joins O, hands on their hips as they watch the display. 

“Pathetic,” she sighs. “Oh, well. I suppose they were always a ticking time bomb. Say, O… you have any experience in chemistry?”

“Only in the chemicals of the mind!”

“Nerd!” Scary shouts, walking away. “Have to do everything my damn self around here…”

Max steps out of the bathroom, looking back and forth. The camera zooms in on him as he walks out, exhaling. 

“Boo!”

He screams and leaps as Scary shouts in his ear. She chuckles and watches him blush and regain his composure. “Was that necessary?”

“No. That’s why it’s fun,” she smiles. “Hey, you’re a smart guy, right?”

“Maybe. Who’s asking?”

“I need a second opinion,” Scary pulls out her notebook. “Some peer review, if you will. Scruffy has obviously fallen off the deep-end, and I have some ideas to bounce.”

“What, your parole officer busy this week?”

“You and I both know I’m above the law. What do you say? I’ll give you a fraction of the profits if I’m right… 10%?”

“25%”

“20%, and that’s my final offer,”

“Deal. Twenty it is,”

Scruffy trips on a pebble and wails on the ground, rocking back and forth in front of them.

---

“Peter is…” O starts, looking up. 

---

“A pushover,” Max scoffs. 

---

“A good guy, but not Total Takes material,” Scruffy nods. "Poor guy is going to get eaten alive..."

---

“Look, there’s nothing wrong with him, he’s just so milquetoast,” Max rolls his eyes. “Still, I wouldn’t mind making it to the finale with him. For obvious reasons.”

---

Peter sits in the craft services tent, biting his nails and glancing over to Max every few minutes. He’s busy rifling through a few of Scary’s notes, looking up every few seconds to make sure no one can see what he’s doing. The camera zooms in on the papers nonetheless. 

Peter turns to O. “Can I get some advice?”

“What?” O yawns, leaning on his elbow. “Oh, yeah, sure! What’s the deal- GAD? SAD?”

“Um… I just want your opinion on something. You know, like a friend,”

O raises an eyebrow. 

---

O: “I guess it’s just kind of… weird… having people want to talk to me like a friend… I’ve never had a friendship that existed outside of impromptu therapeutic discussions and mutual validation, you know?”

---

“If there was someone who… ruined a friendship for you… would it be right to be angry at them?” Peter asks, looking at his lap nervously. 

“Anger is a secondary emotion, if we can get to the root…” O slows down, then sighs. “Yes. Yes it would be right. In fact, I’d be even angrier! If I got to actually keep a friend, and then someone else ruined our friendship, I’d be furious!”

“Really,” Scary scoffs from across the table, peering over her notebook. “Mr. Cool Therapy, that’s not good client advice.”

“I’m not a therapist,” O crosses his arms, matter-of-factly. “I’m not licensed, after all. It’s illegal to impersonate a doctor. We’re talking… as friends!”

“Whatever,” she sighs, returning to her notes. 

---

“O is… whatever, I guess,” Scary crosses her arms. “Not worth my time.”

---

“He’s fine. Michela liked him enough,” Max sighs. "She does have astronomically bad taste, though... wait, what does that say about me?"

---

Nadie steps into the craft services tent and calls in Scary.

"No way in hell," Scary grumbles, leafing through the notebook with Max at her side. "You're lucky I haven't smashed in all your stupid equipment yet."

"Um, yeah, Chris warned us about that, so... he took the liberty of setting up a minefield around the production tent," Nadie smiles nervously. "I wouldn't get too close if I were you."

---

"What do I think I've accomplished on the show?" Scary scoffs at the question.

---

Max sighs. "Nothing,"

---

"Not enough!" O says.

---

"I guess I've... survived, and that's good enough, right?" Peter smiles bashfully.

---

"Here's an accomplishment for you: today's minefield will be the last," Scary grins. "Chris is going down."

---

It's dark out now, the sun setting behind the cityscape. Scary steps out of the trailer and Nadie sticks his head out as she leaves. “Scruffy?”

“FINALLY!” Scruffy jumps up from the grass where they’ve been waiting for the past few hours, and dashes inside the trailer. “I am so ready for this!”

“Love the enthusiasm,” Nadie smiles. “We don’t actually have a lot of questions for you, but this one’s on everyone’s minds…”

“Anything!” they speak enthusiastically, folding their hands in their lap and sitting up straight.

“What are your thoughts on Patrick and Julia being an item?”

Scruffy’s smile drops. “What?”

“Damn, right, I forgot that you don’t have internet access here. Patrick and Julia are an item now! Considering your close friendship with Julia, a lot of the fans are wondering…”

They force another smile. “That’s great! That’s so cool and awesome, I’m SO happy for them! Haha! Even though Patrick’s style of antagonism directly conflicts Julia’s and they’re way too different and he knows nothing about her. I’m fine! You know what? I didn't even want to do this interview anyway- I have to go!” Scruffy stands, running outside the trailer. 

---

Scruffy sits in the confessional, wailing.

---

Scary and Max watch them running into the makeup and hair confessional, covering their face. “What got up their ass this time?” Max asks. 

---

Peter and O watch the two from inside the mess hall. "What do you think they're doing?"

"Nothing good," O responds, shaking his head. "Anything those two can agree on has to be trouble."

"I don't know, maybe we're being too harsh..." Peter starts, twirling his thumbs around each other. "I don't want to be mean..."

O sighs and takes a seat at the table. "Listen, man. Speaking... as a friend, I think you can be pretty soft when it comes to people messing with your feelings. And I know that... I haven't been doing a good job at regulating that for everyone. I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I feel like therapy just pushes positivity onto people instead of validating their feelings!"

"I don't think that's crazy at all," Peter says. "Didn't your therapist get you to come on reality TV to face a fear?"

"Yeah... maybe... that wasn't the right move," O sighs. "I know it's unprofessional, but I see you guys as friends, not clients, and I would never subject my friends to that same crap."

"I don't think that's unprofessional, I think that's empathy. It's sweet," Peter smiles. "If only everyone else felt that way..."

"Hey, man, if you need me, I'm here for you. What's been happening to you isn't fair, and if you wanna get mad-"

“It’s just so unfair!” he suddenly shouts, slamming his fists on the table. “Why do these things keep happening to me?!”

“That's it- stand for yourself! Don’t let your fear take over!”

“You’re right! I’ve been letting myself get walked on for too long!” Peter stands. “I’m going to confront Max and Scary and tell them exactly what’s on my mind!”

He storms out of the craft services tent and to the impromptu camera tent, where the Reality, Weekly crew is having their dinner break. Max and Scary are hovering around the group, using their lights to read through the notes. 

“I’m no scientist, but this all seems right to me,” Max says. “If your readings are correct, and your evidence can be held up in court, you definitely have a case.”

“I knew it!” Scary grins. “Chris McLean is SO going down!”

“MAX AND SCARY!” Peter shouts, pointing an accusing finger at them. The two look up from their notes and squint at him. 

“Great. What now?” Max mutters, crossing his arms. Scary hands him the notes and walks up to Peter, hands on her hips. 

“What’s the deal, pipsqueak?”

“The deal is that… that…” Peter quivers, a little unsure of himself, before he takes a deep breath and stands his ground. “You’re MEAN!”

“You’re RUDE. You’re EVIL!” he takes a step forward. “And you’re not even that much smarter than anyone else! We can ALL TELL!” 

Scary scoffs. “God, this is pathetic. You really think that-”

She takes a step closer and triggers a sudden hidden trip wire. The sound of twanging makes both her and Peter stop dead in their tracks and turn to the sound of fizzling under their feet. They both jump to the ground, covering their heads as a landmine goes off behind them- sending Max flying across camp and instantly disintegrating all of Scary’s notes. She watches the papers turn into ashes in horror. 

Chris chuckles, watching the display from afar. “Man, I love fireworks,”

---

A medical helicopter takes off, Max tucked inside. Scary is seething, fists clenched. 

“Well… that was fun,” Nadie says, waving goodbye to the chopper. 

Chris smiles. “Yes. Yes it was,”

"MONTHS of evidence- gone!" Scary turns to Peter. "You're dead. You're dead meat, and I'm gonna eat you!"

"Weird," O breathes, then turns his head to either side of him. "Hey- where'd Scruffy go?"

---

Scruffy remains in the confessional, wailing.

---

[thebirdandthebee]

Easy As

A Carmen Berzatto Universe

A/N: This is another request from my inbox, which is still open! I felt bad for being gone for so long, so here’s a new installment :)

Vanessa Monaghan is the breath of fresh air that Carmen had been gasping for.

Page 14: Biceps

Carmen and Vanessa agreed after about a year of dating they’d never mix business with pleasure. Not that the opportunity came up too often, but when The Bear opened and got quite a bit of attention from the media, they did not hire Vanessa’s agency to help with their PR.

Vanessa did, however, recommend a great agency that was deeply involved in the national restaurant scene.

There were, at times, instances in which Carmen asked for Vanessa to accompany him to certain events or sought her advice – and today was one of those days.

He was being honored again, as a top chef in Chicago Mag, which was a huge honor – even if it was the third time he’d made the list.

The outlet had already come and done the interview earlier that week, for which Vanessa was not present, but this time they were heading over to The Bear for the photo-shoot. Closed for Sunday, the lighting and staging had been there all morning setting up floods, back drops, and moving around small knick-knacks to achieve their desired look.

Carmen’s office had been commandeered as his temporary dressing room where Vanessa was currently artfully cuffing his jeans. Carmen got to pick his outfit for the shoot and Vanessa was all-too-thrilled to make sure every detail was perfect, she was positively beaming with pride for her boyfriend.

“Knock, knock,” they turned to face the door to the office which was closed. “Makeup!”

“Makeup?” Carm asked, looking at Vanessa.

“Not a big deal, you just need some powder,” Vanessa replied, proud of how well he got his curls to form after their shower that morning. “You’re already devastatingly handsome,” she pecked his lips softly. “Come in!” She called.

The makeup artist came in, and Vanessa smiled like a lunatic as she touched up just a blemish or two on Carmen’s face before a light dusting of powder.

“Hair is great, no need there,” she commented. “I believe Amanda is all set up out front, so at your convenience, we’ll get started!”

Vanessa exited the office first, double-checking Carm’s pristine white tee underneath his blue apron that made his eyes absolutely pop. The front of house had been staged and the PA directed Carmen where to stand between stools at the service counter dining space.

“Amanda,” the photographer greeted, shaking Carmen’s hand. “This should be an easy shoot,” she winked. Vanessa glanced up to see the photographer standing right in Carmen’s personal space.

“Carmen, nice to meet you,” he replied back dutifully.

Amanda returned to her space behind the light tents and snapped off a few shots.

“Just like I suspected – photogenic,” she all but purred. Vanessa dropped her phone down into Carmen’s coat pocket which was draped over her shoulders. Crossing her legs, she gave her full attention to the shoot.

Over the next ten minutes, they snapped a handful of photos with some direction, the photographer chatting Carmen up to help him try to relax – he wasn’t necessarily the in-front-of-the-camera type.

“Okay, Carm, why don’t you fold your arms, like this –” Amanda showed. “Great, and let’s get a flex of those arms,” she encouraged, “wow.” Vanessa eyed her closely. “Maybe I should be a chef to get biceps like that.” Carmen’s eyes cut quickly to Vanessa.

“Can’t say this is exactly a natural pose for me,” he shrugged. A few more snaps went by before they changed again.

“Let’s get a few on the backdrop,” Amanda called, ushering Carmen over. The PA handed him a dishtowel, which was draped over his left shoulder. “This will really bring out those baby blues.”

Amanda stepped in, posing him even more, gently moving his shoulders, fixing the dish towel and even going so far as to muss his hair a bit. Vanessa could feel her blood singing in her veins, but she wanted to stay professional.

“How do I look, baby?” Carmen asked as Amanda picked up her camera.

“Perfect,” Amanda replied, causing Vanessa’s eyes to nearly pop out of her skull. Carmen did his very best to stifle his laughter in disbelief.

Thankfully the shoot didn’t go on too much longer and as Carmen headed back to change in his office, Vanessa followed him once again.

“Was that awkward?” Carmen barely got the words out of his mouth before Vanessa slammed the door behind her.

“SO unprofessional!” Vanessa fumed. Carmen grinned at the floor as he peeled his apron off and tossed on his chair. “I’m calling the Mag and complaining,” she added.

“Ness, you don’t need to call,” Carmen insisted. “She was just being overly friendly.”

“Um no, she was not being overly friendly, she was about to drop to her knees to suck your dick,” Vanessa said, a finger in the air as Carmen grabbed the dishtowel from the shoot and scrubbed at his face a bit. “What did she think I was there for? Decoration?”

“Ness,” Carmen laughed, seeing his girlfriend all worked up.

“There was literally no reason she had to touch your arms and hair that much,” she rolled her eyes.

“Are you jealous?” Carmen asked, winding his arms around her waist and tugging her up against him.

“Not jealous,” Vanessa frowned, “just didn’t want her touching what was mine,” she finished. “I earned these curls,” she insisted, reaching up and delving right into them.

“I think you’re overthinking it,” Carmen said, kissing her gently.

“She thought you were calling her ‘baby,’” Vanessa pointed out. “I’m your baby,” she mumbled.

“You are my baby,” Carmen confirmed. “Now can I please take my baby home so we can enjoy the rest of our day off?” He asked.

And if he found a scrap receipt paper with Amanda’s number on it on the way out, he’d say nothing before dropping it in the trash on the corner.

[look-at-the-soul]

Lockdown sessions- All of this unreal time (The Photoshoot)

In honor of @cillmequick 100 followers celebration, I wrote this as a parallel for my “The Photoshoot” series 🥰📸 don’t worry, if you don’t read the series, all you need to know is the female character is based in OC Yael, Cillian’s wife, she’s a photographer and they are married and that’s all I will reveal in this one shot so the rest of the series won’t be spoiled. Congratulations Alex 💕 I’m so happy you started sharing your incredible ideas and I hope I honor your lockdown idea ♥️

You can find the “All of this unreal time” video here courtesy of Mrs Murphy on IG 💕 which for the purpose of this story, is why they go back to Manchester to film.

Also! For inspiration I used a song that @lyarr24 suggested me a loooong time ago 🥰 better late than ever right? Song: Love me two times by The doors

⚠️ Smut Minors DNI! (I’ve been released from jail so, who cares?)+ pandemic theme, please be cautions, I don’t mean to trigger any hard topics, this is just fiction with a bit of reality, my heart is with those who went through a difficult time during the lockdown ♥️

 After getting the negative results they had green light to start filming. It was hard to resist the natural impulse to hug Max Porter, a long time friend. And of course, Aoife and Mary, they were not only collaborators, but close friends as well.

“Sorry I cheated in the geography test and looked the teacher in the eye and swore I hadn’t”

Yael’s hands moved down as she was lost in her thoughts, listening to Cillian’s captivating and deep voice.

The C0vid restrictions only had one effect on him; do his part exposing his heart and soul out. After all these years, it still had the same effect on her; shivers down her spine, mind in blank, her eyes focused on him.

Sitting in an empty restaurant at midnight. The owners kept it open until very late in an attempt to get one more client, one more bill to help them survive and pay their own bills. Not everyone out there was able to stay at home and work from there. These were real heroes, the brave ones. The ones in the background, the ones we don’t notice when we sit on a restaurant comfortably and wait to be served. And don’t get me wrong, of course the doctors, nurses, paramedics, cleaning staff, etc deserve the whole praise, a medal and all the recognition of the world. But also those who helped us to make our lives a little more comfortable, the ones wearing an invisible cape, the delivery guy, the chef, the waitress, the truck driver that didn’t have another choice but being out there.

We all actually are, from our own trenches, doing our best, hoping for better days.

“If we don’t open, we don’t eat.” The woman said with sadness in her eyes. Her face covered by he mask and a massive face shield. She was more than touched when she was asked if they could be able to get the film done there, with the promise of ordering food as soon as they were done for the whole crew.

She immediately rushed to clean the table next to the wall, explaining how this place was her whole life.

Cillian was touched by her words, quietly behind everyone, hands inside the pockets of his coat, the hoodie cap covering his head and his usual mystic aura full on display. Yael saw him closing his eyes for a brief moment, his lips barely moving, whispering the lines of Max’s beautiful poem.

The clear background was a nice contrast to his completely black outfit. The camera guy started filming, following the director’s instructions. Yael was about to take a seat a couple of tables away from Cillian, but she wasn’t there just to support him, she was in charge of the photography of this ambitious project.

“Sorry I was an unkind boy, sorry I borrowed, sorry I pretended to be sorry so often I actually forgot the non-performative and sincere act of apologizing, behind years of faux-sorry showiness.”

And of course, she would add it to her own personal collection of his remarkable work that she had been accumulating over the years.

There was an incredible energy around the whole team, everyone leaving their hearts in every take. It was late, but nobody seemed to care, they were all too engrossed to stop recording, so instead of cutting the inspiration, Aoife suggested a couple of shots in the street, the lights in each business added an incredible atmosphere.

The night was cold, it was past midnight and the sky poured down earlier, making the team delay the filming time, they said they would postpone it but Cillian walked to the middle of the empty street and started saying the script out loud while laying on the wet floor. The team shared a silent look and started filming quietly, no one complained that it was so late, or about the weather, they all knew Cillian’s drive, he wasn’t just a professional, he was extremely excited and desperate to do this work.

“I’m sorry I took, and took, and took, and took, and took, and enriched myself without pause, and left deep scars on the skin of the earth”

She still couldn’t believe this man only needed and hoodie, one look to nothing in specific and he would make her feel a tightness in her heart she couldn’t even name.

I just came out here to say

Every day is the last day

As everyday will always be

And it is more than enough.

His performance was blowing her mind!

Maybe it was the passion he put into everything, or the fact that somehow thanks to the uncertainty moments the world was going through, they both learned they had everything they needed. They re-learned to focus on what really mattered; they were healthy, they were together, their loved ones were doing fine, fighting this battle in their own way.

They felt beyond blessed and grateful for each day, for sharing one more meal, they started to look at the small things.

They were grateful for this moment, for the opportunity of making this project together.

Masks, antibacterial sprays and safe distance was part of their lives now. Some people would agree, some others think this was something made up. It is a personal decision no one in the crew would discuss, but everyone wanted to protect the other.

Cillian got up and kept going, not stopping once to check if the camera man was filming him, he was deeply concentrated in his performance.

He wasn’t just reading lines, he felt every single word, every single paragraph.

It was both scary and exciting, there was a thin line dividing the power of his words and your heart breaking into a million pieces.

Something that would keep anyone on he edge of their seats.

Looking around, Yael realized she had been holding her breath, just like the rest of the crew, Cillian had a way to make everyone gasp, it was hard to look any other way.

As he finished the last line of the poem, she saw her husband keep walking, the camera men following, no one dared to interrupt the beautiful silence around until Cillian was ready to stop.

Suddenly he started walking back and forward, taking out his cellphone, Yael saw him dialing something, rubbing his face with his free hand.

“I love you, with all I’ve got.” She was close enough to hear.

“Cut.” Aoife called over the radio as she saw on screen that Cillian was crying.

This became something personal, his emotions were all over the place. He was a sensible man, with a heart of gold. And she loved him more than words could ever express.

His face was cold as she touched him,in silence.

Not a single word she could say, would be more beautiful than that moment of silence.

“Let’s get you home, my love.”

Yael gave Max a smile he was only able to see in her eyes, since she had half her face covered by the mask. Placing one of her hands over her heart, she tried to say goodbye to everyone, in return she got kind looks.

Walking past Max, Cillian stopped and breaking with the protocols, he gave his friend a hug. He had teared eyes, just like everyone else.

“Thank you everybody!” He shouted taking Yael’s hand, his rock and strength.

On their way back to the apartment, they found the Manchester streets almost empty, it was conveniently close to the location they chose to film.

“Never hold back your emotions.” Yael pulled her husband's hand giving it a slightly but gentle squeeze, she wanted to encourage him to open up freely to her. “You’ve been so resilient and strong during this time, my center, grounding me.” Cillian looked down, had he? “Making my days easier and better.”  

“Going through this nightmare with you made a difference, I’d go crazy without you.” His right hand came to rest to the back of her head, eyes locked on the other one, two hearts beating at the same rhythm, lips dancing in sync.

When was the last time they savored each other’s bodies without a rush?

Coming up for air, Cillian started the way down her neck.

“I’m sorry for every single time I wasn't there. Birthday, anniversary, Sunday brunch...”

Yael opened her eyes surprised.

“Cill, don’t.” She knew how sorry he felt for missing something important.

But he needed to get it off his chest.

“I need you to forgive me for every time I failed you, for saying things I shouldn’t say and not saying what you needed to hear from me.” Once he took off the scarf around her neck, his thumb was brushing under her breast, even through the fabric of her sweater, her skin was burning up.

“I need you to forgive me too, for my fails.” Yael helped him take off his hoodie, running her finger through his hair then. “For not making you my priority all the time.”

“It’s okay, you’ve been working a lot.” Cillian finally managed to get her out of those jeans.

A lot of things had been in the middle lately, plus all the stress and worry that came with the current situation.

But tonight, it was all about them.

“I’m super proud of what you did earlier, the way you poured your heart out, it’s the most beautiful thing to see.”

He knew his voice would break, all of his emotions where right there in the surface.

So Cillian kissed her lips, slowly, savoring the moment, the silence, enjoying the way her body trembled in his arms.  That night he had all of the time of the world to travel her body up and down as he pleased.

And he did just that until she couldn’t take it anymore.

Until her breath caught up in her throat and her heart was beating to its maximum capacity.

Feeling her under his body was nothing compared to feel her body opening and welcoming his.

“Oh Cill.” Her back arched from the mattress as he entered her one more time. Setting a slow, yet sensual pace, he bumped his nose against hers. Not even wanting to blink so he wouldn’t miss Yael’s pleasure.

‘Moan for me baby, let me hear you.” Leaning down, he kissed her neck, feeling her pulse.

Chests brushing, skin on skin, he loved the feeling of her nails running down his arms and back.

Yael was holding onto him like a castaway clings to the shore.

The soft lovemaking was enough to send her over the edge and make her see the stars and fireworks.

She couldn’t keep her voice down as she came hard, the ecstasy of her pleasure taking her to a place she didn’t want to leave. His own release matching hers, whispering her name like a prayer.

He looked so beautiful on top of her, buried deep inside her body.

After a few moments, Cillian pulled out, moving his arm to get her close to his body.

“I don’t want to go.”

“Then stay.”

But they both knew that wasn’t possible.

“The tunnel scene was one of my favorite.” Yael whispered against his neck, as they cuddled together. The lights were amazing, and him simply walking in his signature elegant stride. Did he really need anything else? She remembered the shot she got, breathtaking like the rest.

Cillian smiled against her hair. “You said that before.”

“That’s because I love this project and I love your work.”

Feeling him sighting, she fell asleep, right there, in her favorite spot; his arms.

A few hours later, the daylight woke him up, since they forgot to close the curtains. Cillian knew she would be gone in a few hours, and he wanted to make the most out of the time they still got together.

“Hey sleeping beauty.” He smiled at the sight of her opening her eyes.

Yael found her husband leaning against the headboard, smiling down at her.

“Hi handsome.” Stretching her arms above her head, she let out a little groan. “What time is it?”

“Nine o’clock.”

“Wow, that’s so late... haven’t sleep in like this in a while.”

“What time do you need to be at the airport?”

Love me two times baby Love me twice today Love me two times girl

His hand sneaked under the covers, between her legs, while his fingers set her entire body into fire. Oh those fingers! Moving at their own accord in and out of her, brushing against the little button that drove her crazy.

Finally pulling herself up, Yael straddled his legs. “Twelve.”

Her lips connected with his neck, his hands on her hips, pulling her down.

One for tomorrow, one just for today Love me two times I'm goin' away

“So wet already.”

“Been all night wet.” She teased his tip at her entrance, moving forwards and backwards, his tip just brushing her slit, torturing him.

“Sorry for the wait.”

“Why do you make it rhyme?” Pumping him in her hand, she saw the way he let his head back, taking the opportunity to nibble his shoulder.

Love me one time Could not speak Love me one time

“Old man joke you wouldn’t understand.”

And that was the last thing he said when she took his cock and guided it to where he belonged. Inside her. Yael rested one of her hands on the headboard for leverage as as his hands were on her hips to set the familiar tune they both loved. Carefree, loud, hard and deep, without restrictions.

Groaning at the feeling of her walls clenching around him, Cillian moved one hand to her back, to press her further close to him.

Looking down, between their bodies, he found his hard member disappearing inside of her.

“I want you to cum hard for me.”

Last me All through the week Love me two times

But that wasn’t enough, in a swift motion he flipped her on her back and stared thrusting hard and fast into her, bending one of her legs, he hooked it under his arm, making Yael moan loudly at the new rhythm and angle.

“Oh!” It was almost as if an animal was unleashed.

“After you.” He offered after moving his hand around, to find the exact point of the union of their bodies, just pressing his fingertips a little, and Yael arched her back and it was enough to make her reach her second orgasm.

Last me All through the week Love me two times

“Ah, fuck.” He groaned following her immediately, his breathing elaborated.  

It took her some time to recover by the intensity with which it hit her while he was slamming her body. But she didn’t mind, she loved to see this side of him, she loved having Cillian on top of her.

He was still trying to catch his breath when Yael rolled to her side and put one of her legs between his. “You need to make more projects like this.” She confessed kissing the scar on his chin.

Cillian saw her walking to the bathroom naked.

“Are you going to love me two times before I go?”

Apparently, his wife didn’t know how to count, because it would be round three, but before he could correct her math, she spoke from the shower.

“I know what you’re thinking, the first one was last night.”

He laughed loudly from the bed, covering his eyes with his palms.

Who was he to deny his wife an orgasm?

“Coming!” He announced rolling from the bed, in a matter of seconds, he was ready to go again.

She wished she could photograph tonight’s sequence, but she needed to head back to Ireland to her other responsibilities.

As the water was running down her body, Yael wished Cillian could understand the power of his voice, the pauses, the looks he gave to he camera and the whole impact he had in this project, it would make it stand out, but he was too stubborn to understand the magic he brought to the table, the difference he made, the souls he would touch with this.

And by the portraits she made during the shooting she was sure that this had to be one of her favorites works of him.

 ****

Bonus photo:

A/N: This film has to be one my favorite projects of him ♥️ I think he did an amazing performance that gives me goosebumps every time I watch it.

My main account is back!!! 🥰💕 so I’m also celebrating that, remember your thoughts and comments make a huge difference! ✨

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