#anyway we'll see how this fight goes

[elboxitracio]

Now why would my dad, this cishet construction worker pushing 60 who spend his life watching only action movies and the occasional comedy movie, suddenly got VERY into mostly romantic K-dramas ??

[loumauve]

still got an occasional gross cough and a bunch of anxiety over being back at work with a certain horribly exhausting person but prolonging the stress will prob make it worse so I might as well go back to work tomorrow.

I stress cleaned everything in my flat today except the piles of washed clothes and unwashed dishes so things are back to normal once more, and then I sorted out all the stuff for upcoming project + exam prep and packed my bag for tomorrow and laid out clothes so I'm as ready as I can be.

gonna be exhausted tho bc it's already 11 pm and I gotta be up by 4:30 am at the latest if I wanna be at work at my usual time. I don't have to be there at 6:30, I could go there at 9 or 10 even but then I would have to stay late and deal with people right away, which is a strong hell nah for me

[hollowflight-propaganda]

spent years thinking i was the only hollowflight fan because I'd never seen anyone talk about him but after glancing at your account you win, you are definitely a bigger hollowflight fan 😭 /lh

I'm glad that my services for the Hollowflight nation of like 10 people are appreciated :)

[jwonsoon]

Enhypen's reactions to you being super talkative when they're tired ⋆.˚ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

☾ a/n: It has been a minute !!! Me and bff have been so so busy since it's our final semester of high school. But I am here to provide for my delusional folk <3 I honestly wrote this on a whim because I've been feeling extra insane lately with all the work I have to do so ignore any stupid mistakes I make in this. I want to post more on here for sure, senior year is coming to a close soon and me and bff are moving into a new university together so hopefully we'll have time for more posts. Okay enough yapping, go read! pairings: enhypen x g/n reader genre: fluff

cw: kissing (nothing crazy dw), ignore grammatical errors!

JUNGWON

He doesn’t care if his life is on the line, the last thing he’s going to do is make you feel rushed when you’re talking about something you’re genuinely interested in. 

He finds you SO cute when you’re mumbling about something that you enjoy !! He gazes at you with his boba eyes nodding along to everything you say 

“Oh my god sorry I’m talking so much” you say to him embarrassed at how comfortable you’ve gotten in his presence and how he’s probably so tired 

He’ll immediately shake his head no and tell you “keep talking i love listening to you” 

Because he’s tired he pulls you into a hug and plays with your hair while you talk. 

His sign that he’s tired is when he gets really touchy. Like he is all of a sudden kissing your forehead and playing with your cheeks which is usually a sign for you to call it a day… 

JAKE

We all know this guy cannot for the life of him control his sleepiness but he loves you so he makes his adjustments

Its a shame but this guy is NOT !!! LISTENING !!! 

He’s cuddling you and you’re yapping away he’s going to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck and just keep going “mhm, i see” 

You notice that he isn’t listening so you ask a question to throw him off and he responds with “yeah totally” making you chuckle. 

He looks up flustered realizing he just admitted to not paying attention to you. 

“Sorryyyyy!!!!” He pouts leaning to kiss you.

“Im listening I just need a minute” he spends that “minute” sleeping on your arm and then he sits up shaking his head like a puppy trying to wake himself up. 

Claps, sits up, “Okay! talk! I’m up.” 

HEESEUNG

He’s always up fighting his sleep to play video games anyway so he’s the most prepared in situations like these 

If he notices your in a particularly chatty mood and he’s sleepy, he will drag both of you out of bed and make sure you’re sitting up so that he isn’t prone to falling asleep on accident 

You’re talking and talking and he is giving the same exact energy back!! he will laugh and giggle at everything 

When he’s really getting tired he yawns out loud and goes “baby.. im a bit sleepy.. actually no no keep going, just come here” 

He’ll open his arms wide for you to lay on his chest while you talk 

You notice his eyes are closed so you stop and start getting up only for him to pull you back down and say “just stay here, i like listening to your pretty voice” 

SUNGHOON

He is so in love with you. it is PATHETIC! 

He is so sleepy too and looks insanely cuddly so whenever you are talkative you lay facing him and talk his ear off while hugging him 

He is way too in love to tell you that you need to please shut up because he is SO TIRED so instead he kisses you to ease his tiredness away 

“That girl” —kiss “is so” —kiss “annoying” —kiss 

“Hoon stopp” to which he kisses you again, mumbling against your lips “I’m listening baby” 

SUNOO

No matter how tired he is it fades away when hes with you 

You’re always spilling the latest gossip to Sunoo and he eats it up everytime. 

“She actually has something against me” you say to which Sunoo responds “how could anyone hate this cute face” pinching your cheeks 

You brush his hand away and jokingly roll your eyes and thats all it takes for his cuteness aggression to launch through the roof 

He is all of a sudden squeezing you tight going “Why are you so cute you’re just so cute you’re so cute” 

He is literally holding you shaking your shoulders while smiling so big going “No tell me!!! why are you so cute??” 

“Sunoo you’re scaring me” you say to which he responds “Good! I’m pissed off you’re perfect.” 

You guys will literally spend the whole night talking, Sunoo literally forgot that he was tired in your presence 

JAY

He is half asleep walking through the door 

But! that doesn’t stop him from at least pretending to listen to you 

As he’s putting his stuff down you are following him around talking about the ending of the show that you just watched 

Hes humming in response and smiling to himself 

He stops suddenly turns to face you pulling you in for a hug “Baby I’m so tired today i dont know why….” sighing into your arms 

He didn’t want to explicitly say to you please shut up but it was definitely a sign to you to take it down a notch 

He’d look down to kiss you on the lips and say “Let’s talk in bed hm?” 

When you guys are in bed he lets you lay on his chest and he says “Now tell me all about that show you were talking about” 

He will listen to you, or at least try to, but with his fingers playing with your hair you are slowly lulled to sleep.

He'll look at you, smile, kiss your forehead and you will wake up confused as to how he shut you up so quickly.

NI-KI

Riki is definitely a little more honest but thats what you love about him!

“I can see all your teeth babe, what’s got you cheesing?” he says to you as he sits down on the bed 

“I have so much to tell you!” you say to him patting the space beside you for him to come and lay in. 

“And I have so much sleep to catch up on!” He says mockingly as he lays down next to you. You pout to which he kisses you and says “Go on, talk my ear off” 

You start going off on a tangent and he is just looking at you with a boxy smile on his face and laughing at how your facial expressions are so dramatic in comparison to the light hearted story you’re telling 

He stares at you with glistening eyes after his 40th yawn in a row 

“You know you talk too much, right? It’s a good thing you’re cute” he would say pulling you into a hug 

“That’s rude! and I wasn’t don—” you are interrupted by a kiss on the lips 

“I promise to listen all day tomorrow, okay? Let’s sleep now?” He says rubbing circles on your back, with his eyes already closed.

[carmenized-onions]

Something to Do. | Catering

logline; Itinerary for your trip to New York? Just try not to fucking cry.

[!!!] series history, this is the twelfth; gonna start season three after I post this. Wonder how bad it's gonna throw off the rest of my plot line. Ideally not at all. We'll see.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. I really like this playlist for all chapters, but for a wedding where music is blasting, it feels particularly fitting.

portion; 13.3k how does this keep happening.

possible allergies; Terrible self-image, everything feels bad, very real conversations abt ,,, self-death and addiction.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (gets referred to as a woman and other feminine honourifics but no pronouns, i believe)

i made you all so mad last chapter. Let's see if i can make it up to you, babydoll (probably wont)

You hate to admit it, but you were kind of relieved when you found out Carmen wasn’t coming on the plane. You’re in a bit of a state of fight or flight; well, more accurately, currently leaning towards the flight side— Pun intended.

He’s coming to the wedding. You know he is. For one, he’s getting thirty grand for this, he has to. For two, his location is still on for you— Whether he forgot to turn it off or just didn’t care, you’re not sure. But he hates you, so there’s no way it was intentional, you’re certain about that much.

You know you shouldn’t be looking at it, but you have. You’ve been looking all week. Checking your Find my Friends like a doting mother. He goes to work far too early, he stays far after close, he goes home. Rinse and repeat.

You check on him one last time before boarding the plane. He’s opted to drive, with Richie. Something about ‘wanting to bring their personal equipment’, Richie texted you. They’re halfway through Ohio. You’re sure that road trip is definitely going spectacular after their side of the explosion.

Richie texted the day after that fucking fiasco, asking if you’d want updates on how it’s going at The Bear. How it’s going with Carmen. You said you wanted to know if he wanted to tell. He opted not to tell.

You hate to admit, you were kind of relieved, to not know. To just look at Carmen’s little icon go from Point A to B. Instead of Carmen Reports, you and Richie text about much lighter things. Normal things. Eva drew a funny picture of you kinda things. It’s nice. You know you’re probably being childish, but it feels so much fucking better to ignore the Bear in the room. You don’t know how to feel about anything, and frankly you don’t want to try to figure it out.

You suck, Carmen sucks, what more is there to know? Process it? Fuck that.

Carmen hasn’t texted you; you haven’t texted him, the entire week. Radio silence. You stopped playing Connections. Didn’t see a point. Not like they even have a streak function anyways— You’d die before you let that Wordle streak break, though. That was your thing. Carmen doesn’t get to take your things, too.

You didn’t get a text from the Exec, either. So that’s… Something? Or, rather, explicitly, that’s nothing. Does that mean Carmen gives a shit? Not necessarily. Ugh. Your whole system was so shocked after that fucking fight that you didn’t really have time to take in the fact that that jag was into you? Vomit inducing. You’ve got to rethink your life choices, if they lead you to him. 

But also, you know if Carmen and you were okay right now, you probably would’ve given him your number. You would’ve catfished him for weeks, laughing over your phone with Carmen and Syd as this idiot falls into your trap. You miss Carmen. You also don’t miss Carmen. You want to see him desperately and also never fucking look at him again.

Carmen’s going to be in the kitchen; you’re going to be out in the banquet hall, on bar, this whole wedding. The likelihood either of you have to actually interact this weekend is quite low. The likelihood either of you have to confront what you’re supposed to do with yourselves now is quite low. You hate to admit it, you’re fucking relieved.

Sydney sleeps on your shoulder, for most of the plane ride. You sleep against her head. Shout out Marcus, for switching seats. He’s behind you, with Tina. He wakes both of you up about an hour in, shaking your seats— Because the dessert cart came out and he didn’t want either of you to miss it. The mini cheesecakes are better than expected, to be fair, so he’s forgiven.

This is going to be the stupidest weekend of your life. You’ll take that, over worst, at least.

“Be honest, would you tip me extra well?”

You give a twirl in your probably too fancy semi-cultural outfit. Your family shows up for weddings, if Vinnie and Mira didn’t want their bartender to go hard, they should’ve put that in their notes. It actually would have been nice to get sent notes, though… What is the theme for this wedding other than ‘Italian’ and ‘New York’…? Glitter eyeshadow is probably fine, right? Yeah it’s fine. Not like you could get that shit off now, anyways.

“If you were my bartender, I would ask ‘what are we?’” Answers Syd, watching you from the bathroom as she attempts to put her hair up. Definitely struggling in silence.

Sharing a hotel room was the best idea you ever had. It would be a nightmare to get ready alone in silence, right now. It’s nice to talk and have something to do. If you didn’t, you’d absolutely be ruminating about Carmen, debating whether or not to check on his room, that’s just down the hall, you could see if he needed help with getting ready and also see if he’s as tired as you think he is and— Plus, the amount you saved on splitting a one bed? Christ. Economy is in shambles. So is your brain.

“You would not be brave enough to ask your bartender ‘what are we?’”

“For you, I would.”

“Are we about to kiss, bro?” You duck into the bathroom, getting way too close to the side of Syd’s face. She laughs, pushing you away with the palm of her hand, you scoff, “Wooowwww—”

You clutch your heart, mortally wounded. Retching, truly. Now this is heartbreak in its rawest form. “—Reject me, why don’t you?”

“I’m playing the role of timid—” “I’m sick of this friends to lovers plot line!” “It adds! It adds!”

“Shut up— And tilt your head back, dumbass, what are you doing?” You stand behind her, taking her braids into your hands as she struggles to bundle them all herself.

“I do this all the time by myself, y’know.” So Syd says, but she lets you take her braids regardless.

“Yeah, but I’m here.” You stretch the hairband on your fingers. “Messy bun?”

“You think?”

“I think primal is too clean.”

“No, I was gonna do the one where it does like— Like the infinity in the front?”

“Who’s mom are you tryna fuckin’ look like?”

She kisses her teeth, attempting to reach a hand behind her head to smack you. You dodge and somehow manage to make it easier to smack you. “I’m literally only gonna get to come out after everyone’s left, I dunno why we’re making effort here—”

“High messy bun?” “High messy bun.”

Oh, the days of doing each other’s hair. You’re glad it’s back. You’re glad you get to become, together, again. It used to be bobbles, friendship bracelets, and glitter tattoos—but now it’s tying up each other’s hair, helping with the curling iron, clasping the gold chains on your neck, zipping up the back of your outfit, pinning the collar pins on her uniform, fixing makeup, asking each other to compare perfumes before going through with the final decision, mocking each other’s purchases.

“Wait, what mini deodorant did you get at customs?”

“Oh, one of those Native ones— I think it’s peach—?”

“Those cost like five fucking dollars, Ink. For like two swipes.”

“Excuse me for wanting to smell good, fuckin’ ‘wolfthorn’—”

“I work in a restaurant. I need Old Spice strength, okay—!”

“Oh, pbbbttt— Syd.”

“Pbb—Fuck, how do you do that?”

There’s a knock at the door, interrupting your squabble. “Are you decent?!”

Sydney groans, “No!”

“Yes, Rich, we’re decent, doors open.”

Richie comes in, unceremoniously. A touch awkward. He’s so rarely been in a room with women getting ready. It’s simultaneously exactly what he expected, and not at all what he expected. “Chip, can you put these fuckin’ things on f’me?”

Cufflinks. He presents the box to you. They’re just plain and silver, boring. Save that in your rolodex of gifts to get this Christmas. “You’re fuckin’ forty and you don’t know how to put on some cufflinks—?”

You’re nagging, but you’re already putting them on him, he holds his wrist out for you. “Nah, I was too busy runnin’ shit to learn.”

“Runnin’ your mouth, more like.”

“Yeah, yeah.” It’s a quiet moment, a tender moment, of adjusting his sleeves. Sydney’s scrambling to clean up the room around you two in the background. It’s hard to turn off the autopilot of cleaning one’s station, no matter where she goes.

You purse your lips. You shouldn’t ask and you shouldn’t care, but you do. You half-whisper, to Richie. “How was the drive?” He knows what you’re asking.

“Terrible start. Surprisingly okay middle. He went straight to the banquet hall once we got here.” He swallows, treading carefully, a thing Richie never does. “Do you wanna know the dirty details?”

Oh good, you wouldn’t be able to check on his room even if you wanted to. You want to. Need to? Stop thinking. Carmen sucks and you suck. 

“Not particularly.” You take one final look at his sleeves, happy with your handiwork, letting his wrists go. “You feel settled, though? Or jury’s still out?”

Richie shrugs, tilting his head back and forth. “Grovelled decent enough, by time we hit Penn. But I’m waitin’ on my informer.”

You cringe, knowing what he means. You also know he’d smack you if you said he doesn’t need your say in order to forgive Carmen. “It’s gonna be a minute, until your informer has an answer.”

“I know.” He nods, twisting his wrists back and forth, looking at the cufflinks. Then he gives you a once over. “Y’look good.”

“You too.” You look over him, he does look good. He’s in his suit, wearing his wedding ring, which makes your heart hurt a little bit, but he does look good. “What’s your fuckin’ job tonight, by the way?” He can’t be doing kitchen. He sucks at kitchen. But he’s also just not dressed for it.

“Fuckin’ everything.” Hyperbolic? Typically yes, with Richie, but not this time.

“Wait staff here had too high a fee—”

“Translation: more than free?”

“More than free, yeah.”

“Heard.”

“So, I’m server, set up, and fuckin’ whore-derve—”

“What?” That pronunciation snaps Sydney out of her autopilot clean, her back snaps up straight. Hands on her hips, like a disappointed teacher. “It’s hors d’oeuvres.”

Richie rolls his eyes and really his whole head back. “Just because you went to the fuckin’ CIA or whatever the fuck—”

You interrupt the fight before it can start. “Let’s just say appetizers.”

Sydney does not let you. “Apps and hors d’oeuvres are different.”

You angle your body from Richie to her, deadpanning. “Just because you went to the fuckin’ FBI or whatever the fuck—”

“Alright!” She’s already walking to the door, despite the fact that she started it— “We’ve gotta fuckin’ get to hall now or we’re gonna have like zero prep time, Chefs.”

You both follow after her, doing one last check to make sure you’ve got everything you need. You honestly don’t need to be in this much of a rush, you’re pretty sure, but you don’t mention that. Richie said Carmen just went straight to the banquet hall, when they came in this morning. You’re not sure how well you know him anymore, all things considered, but by your best guess, he’s almost certainly done all the prep by himself.

Carmen did not do the kitchen prep entirely himself. Well. He might’ve, you haven’t checked, but you don’t think he would’ve had the time.

Carmen did your prep entirely himself.

When you get to the bar, in the banquet hall, you have nothing to do. Side work finished for you. Lemons, limes, oranges— All cut into wedges and loaded in their baskets— even the cherries are pitted. The glasses are organized from wine to whiskey glasses, the sink is clean— Which you know the banquet hall staff didn’t do— They never fucking do.

You don’t see Carmen, but you know he did it. He showed up before anyone else, he was in the kitchen before anyone else— So no one else could’ve left the simple braised beef sandwich on your station. Exactly how Mikey used to make it. Half hot, half sweet. Your order at The Beef. Carmen would’ve done pork, but this is what they had on hand, and he had a feeling this would mean more, anyways. It does. Granola bar on the plate with it. One of the nice ones, too. The wrapping boasts fifteen grams of protein.

He knows how hard running bar is. He knows you won’t have time to eat once it starts. So, he’s making sure you get something down now— And that you have time to eat it in peace, and making sure you have something you can scarf mid-shift later, when you don’t have time.

Fucking. Hell. Fuck this fucking guy. Carmen fucking sucks. You fucking suck. This all fucking sucks so much. This sandwich is so fucking good. You’re so fucking mad. Stop saying fuck. Fuck your subconscious for wanting you to stop saying fuck. It’s so unfair, for him to be maybe the cruelest a person could possibly be, in front of an audience made out of your loved ones, and then be sweet, like this.

He is awful, with words— Well, he’s typically better, with you, par for the last time, but he’s best in the kitchen. You can taste the sorrow, the guilt, the apology. The first thing he ever made you, was a sandwich, the brisket sandwich, that Mikey refined for you, as an apology, for freaking the fuck out in a freezer and having that be your first impression of him— Or, at least, first first-hand impression of him. How far you’ve come.

This will not pass, as an apology. Not a proper one. But… You’ll give him a sign, in return, at least. A confirmation that you got the message, nothing more. Definitely nothing more.

“Rich.” You stop the guy in his tracks, as he marches through the room, helping the rest of the staff set up the hall. Not his job, but it’s Richie. “Can you ask kitchen their shifties?”

He nods, like he understands, walking away with stacks of chairs under both his arms.

He comes back after two minutes, straight up to your bar. “What the fuck is a shifty?”

“Oh.” You feel condescending, for being surprised. You’d never really thought about the huge difference between morning servers and night servers until right now. Richie has never worked with a bar staff. He worked at a fucking sandwich shop. “It’s uh— Your drink. Get a drink on your shift— Shifty— It can be like, a cocktail, a straight, a shot, coffee—”

“I know how many fucking drinks exist, Chip—” “Mocktail, smoothie, juice—” “Yeah, I’ll get a Pina Colada.” “I will break the blender over your head.” “I’ll get you a list.”

You nod, already starting on usuals you know will have remained unchanged since your absence. Steel trap memory. Getting drinks with The Beef staff used to be the highlight of your week, which isn’t a sad statement at all.  “I won’t tell anyone you like Dirty Shirleys.”

He defends. “Eva put me on them.”

“Insane thing to say about your five-year-old.”

“You know what I meant— She likes the normal—” “I’m pokin’ fun, go give this to Carmen.”

You’re hoping if you say it fast, coupled with bickering, Richie won’t make mental note of it. Won’t register it. Of course, he still does. How could he not? You slide the mug to him; he takes it, though, slow, with a perplexed look.

Yeah. They had lavender and maple syrup behind the bar. And cardamom. And milk to froth. And black coffee. Whatever. You didn’t have any dried lavender to top it with, this time, so it’s not actually that cool, anyways. Doesn’t make it special. Did you do a maple syrup drizzle to make up for this? Yeah. You hate yourself just a little bit, for it. You really cannot shut off the way you love, can you? Hopeless. Be even the slightest bit withholding, would you? Just a touch petty? God, you suck. Such a princess.

Rich shrugs, when you don’t try to justify yourself. You’re an adult, he won’t coerce you to be sharper, even if you should be. “Aye aye, Chippy.”

If Carmen ends up wanting to drink later, then he’ll have to come to you. That’s being tough, right? Sure. That’s definitely withholding, Chip. Really showed Carmen there. Certainly, a church woman must be clutching her pearls at your backbone, somewhere in the world.

Do you think you’d be able to handle him coming to your bar, anyways?

No. Decidedly no. Which is a bit stupid, because you’ve faced much scarier things in your life, than some asshole you owe two grand. Well, some asshole you owe two grand that you love deeply that hates you deeply because you are in some part responsible for not taking care of his brother—

Carmen doing your side work was unintentionally cruel, honestly. You don’t have anywhere for your brain to go but him. Don’t have anyone to talk to, or anything to do. Richie can tell and whether you want him to or not; he knows what you need. He repeats himself, walking off with the mug. “I’ll get you your list.”

He knows what you need. Something to do. Something to fix, for someone. Not fix someone. People’s princess. Still failed Mikey, no matter how hard you tried.

Sprite, grenadine, vodka, lime, maraschino cherries. Dirty Shirley. Something to do. Just focus on something to do.

You miss the naivety of wanting something to do. Three hundred guests versus one bartender without a barback is a layer of hell that Dante forgot to specify in his Inferno.

“What can I fix for you, ma’am?!” You’ve got to yell every sentence to get anything intelligible over the music and the cacophony of conversations.

There is an overlap of voices from every single woman crowding around your bar, despite the fact that you were definitely making explicit eye-contact with just one of them. You lean over the counter to hear her alone. She blinks, when you get in her face.

“What are we?”

You cannot stop the snort, but you’re pretty sure she didn’t hear it, music's too loud to hear anything. Syd’s a fucking oracle. “We’re fucked. What can I get for you?”

“Lemon drop shot?” Of course. It’s New York.

“Comin’ right up—”

The crowd of women interrupt you, and each other. “Oh, make that two!” “Make that three!” “Wait what are we making?”

Who the fuck is we? They’re more than welcome to get behind the bar with you. You’d take anyone, at this point.

“Lemon drops, babe!” “Oh—Oh, we doin’ lemon drops?” “Let’s just say ten and be safe!”

Of course.

It’s a lot of that, on repeat. But it’s better than the ones that want one very specific brand of scotch with their soda, because at least you can make huge batches for these ones— Does no one know how to fucking act around an open bar anymore? You get a vodka cran and you fuck off. You really need to start telling people you don’t know how to make bellinis.

Working alone is hard, because you can tell when you turn your back to make drinks, and aren’t able to take twenty more orders at the same time, that everyone’s real fucking annoyed with you. You have tried splitting your cells to become a second person, didn’t work. You’re constantly spinning around to accommodate people, and it’s getting fucking nauseating. And you’re usually patient, but the questions are getting just as mind-numbing.

“Can I get a uh… A negroni… Sbagliato? With prosecco?” “Sbagliato means prosecco is in it, sweetheart.”

“Do you do hurricane shots?” “I’m happy to slap you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, so it’s open bar?” “Yeah.” “So, I don’t have to tip, either?” “Well— It’s appreciated— Oh, and you’ve already walked away. Okay.”

It’s a lot of that, on repeat.

You see from twenty feet away, amidst the crowds, Uncle Jimmy walking towards your bar, and when he waves all friendly, he sees your glower, and opts to turn in the other direction. Smart man. No wonder he’s successful.

Richie swings by your bar, waiting at the corner, where the line hasn’t congregated. You don’t need to be shaking this martini for as long as you are, but it’s a good way to look like you’re working when you’re just trying to talk to Richie. He presents his serving tray to you. “Tiny quiche?”

You open your mouth, hands full with your shaker. He gets the point, stabbing a toothpick into the appetizer and shoving it in your mouth. Oh God, food is beautiful. Food is what sustains. You could write a full book of poetry right now about why food is everything. Well, not everything. You’re still in hell.

“Richie, I’m dying, your job can’t be that important, come be barback.” You pour out the martini. You attempt to open the jar of olives by yourself, when you struggle, Richie puts his tray down and grabs the jar from you.

Thankfully for your pride, he’s also struggling with it. Plus, it gives you time to annihilate the tray of quiches. He shakes his head, his job is important, allegedly. “You want me to starve guests?”

“Ideally? Yes.” You ignore the dirty looks you get from eavesdropping patrons. He hands you the opened jar. You take a toothpick from his tray, since you’re already out of yours, pierce an olive, toss it in the martini, and pass it to someone— Quite frankly, there’s every chance that’s not the guy that ordered the dirty martini, but he takes it, so who gives a fuck.

Richie sighs, he does want to help. “I’ll ask kitchen if they can cut someone.”

Thank fucking God. “Ask Marcus, he’s got mixology experience or some shit.” You remember being occasionally impressed by his verbiage— At the very least, he knows what stuff is back here, and that’s enough for you.

Richie just shakes his head, lips in a line, when you mention Marcus. A universal sign that something has gone horrifically wrong. You furrow your brows, immediately worried, leaning forward. “What happened?”

“Excuse me! What’s it take to get a long-island iced tea around here? This open bar is not very open!”

You and Richie both grimace, at the thick Jersey accent on this woman waving her hand hysterically at your bar. He gives you a nod, already taking his empty tray and starting to walk back to the kitchen. “I’ll ask.”

You turn your body to the woman, but head still to Richie. “Don’t ask. Tell.”

Not even five minutes pass, before you get a barrage of texts, from multiple people, all at once. You watch them flood in on the notification screen of your phone laying on the counter, while shaking up a cosmo, this time.

From Marcus, worrying. ‘sorrysorysorrybakkingemergencymbmmbmb’

From Syd, concerning. ‘couldn’t stop him lmk if it’s bad’

From Richie, alarming. ‘yk how to call your dog right’

But it all makes sense, when Carmen comes up to your bar, removing his apron. “You need a barback?”

Hair is normal. Not at its best, not how you taught him, but it’s better than before. He smells excessively like you; like accidentally used half the bottle levels like you. Maybe not an accident. Don’t read into it, too much— They’re almost certainly the only travel sized bottles he had on hand. Of course he’d take them. He smells like Old Spice, too, though. Don’t read into it. He looks tired. You knew he would. You’ve watched his location, every day. By the time you go to bed each night, he’s only just left The Bear. He deserves to feel tired, he was a fucking asshole, and you’re glad your cat ate just short of all of his flowers.

But you brought in the plate, the next morning. You cleaned it, and then hid it in the back of your dishwasher. You wanted it to be safe, you also just didn’t want to look at it or think about it or have it exist in your mind, at all. That’s half the reason you couldn’t let it perch outside your window anymore. Taunting you. He’s a piece of shit, but you can feel it in your chest; the care you cannot get rid of. The desire to ask are you okay? Have you been sleeping? How are you? How’s your week been? Want a hug? Have you been playing Connections? What did I do wrong? Did you need me? Did anything break? Did you break?

You missed him. Was the radio silence relieving? Yes. Preferably, you’d never acknowledge each other for the rest of your lives besides an eventual wire transfer. Preferably, he’d stay in the back of your dishwasher for the rest of your life. But God, you missed him, this week. You’ll probably miss him for the rest of your life. Is that toxic? You’re working on it. No you’re not… He just made every space easier to breathe in, kept a light on, for you. Not at the end, but he did before. Before he figured out that he hates you.

It’s a thing that everyone says about you, that you bring ease, and whether you can confirm or deny that, who’s to say— But you know Carmen does it for you. Lights up a room for you. And you might be alone in that feeling, but that’s okay with you. Or it was. It was, before he figured out he should hate you.

Oh, shit, you’ve been staring at him in silence for way too long. It’s hard to know how to navigate this. You don’t know how to feel, so you don’t know how to act either. It’s all a weird state of limbo that you desperately want to get out of, but don’t want to do any of the work required to do so. What do you do with your hands? Your body? Your voice? Are you supposed to be funny and nice still? Christ, just say something. What’d he ask, again? Can’t remember.

��Uh…” Still can’t remember, but— “What’s happening with Marcus?”

He seems to falter, slightly, but he comes into your bar, oh right, barback. You needed a barback. He exchanges his kitchen apron for a bar apron. Not used to seeing him wear all black. You wish you could enjoy it. Wish you could say it’s cool watching him act as one of your professions. He answers, as he ties the strings around his waist. “Uber dropped their wedding cake.”

Fuck whatever tension you two have. You nearly fold over in shock. The current track on the speakers fades out, right as you yell back, “They dropped their fucking wedd—!?”

With haste, Carmen puts the palm of his hand over your mouth. Knife tattoo hand. Oh, he missed being this close to you. Not the point here, though. “Shhhhhhh…!”

You relax, he removes his hand, you’re annoyed that you wish he didn’t. You whisper, though it’s still screeching in tone. “They dropped their fucking wedding cake?”

He nods, combing his hair back with his hand. Knife tattoo hand. It’s making your shampoo waft. You both notice it. He stops. “Marcus is remaking one, now.”

“From scratch?” You were right to be so worried; Richie was right to make the face he did. Carmen tilts his head back and forth. “Box mix that he’s finessing—”

You finish the sentence with him, “—Because he’s Marcus.” The king of doing too much, especially when there’s no time for it. It’s his best and worst trait.

He nods, smiling just slightly, but not the typical smile you get from him. Timid. “Yeah, so he’s locked in, but I’m here.”

Simple sentence, but it still schisms your brain. You cannot help but feel a distrust of it. “Shouldn’t you be running the back, though?” Keeping his kitchen in order? Being the Exec in his head?

He shakes his head. “They run a tight ship without me just fine.” The first lesson you gave to him, that that’s a good thing. Is this conversation hitting specific pain points on purpose as a punishment from God or is this just how all your conversations are going to feel, from now on?

Probably both. You nod. “Okay.” You do need a barback.

“This is so cute, girl, and I love love but I’m gonna need that Cosmo like yesterday.” Why did this woman have to say love? That would already be terrible if you were good right now. Carmen’s probably not the type of guy to say the L word for like several months anyways. You’re not even dating anyways— Or weren’t? Can you use past-tense on something that never was?

You hand her the Cosmo, and you both pretend you never heard her.

Running bar with Carmen makes your life infinitely easier, though albeit tenser. He hasn’t done this before, but he’s watched previous bar staff from the sidelines— And one of his best traits is how quick he catches on to things. He’s not confident enough to mix drinks, but everything else, he does just fine.

“Behind.” There’re occasional autopilot moments that make you laugh, though. He snaps back into his body, when you do, moving next to you. He tilts his head, “What, you don’t say behind?”

You shrug, and it feels normal, for a second. “Professionals probably do, I’ve never worked in a place that does, though.”

“But what about when you’re holdin’ shit?” You allow yourself to feel normal, for a second. It is a delight to teach him something about your work. You continue to make drinks and hand off orders, all while you both speak. It reminds you of the domestic flow you were both so used to doing. That was so easy for you both to fall into. It’s nice that it somehow hasn’t gone away.

“So, you know when you’re in the kitchen, or here, behind bar, you get like, really fucking hot?” Don’t let that entendre stay doubled— “Like sweaty?”

“Mhm?”

You hold onto your chilled shaker, stepping behind him, “So, we don’t say behind, we—” and press it just under the back of his neck. He shivers, immediately, full shock running through his system. “Do that.”

“Christ!”

You want to enjoy the moment, but you can’t help but remember him calling you a modern-day saviour. You try to push it down, but the warmth you were starting to feel tones down, quite a bit. You manage to keep him from noticing, manage to keep the smile on. “What, don’t like it? It’s nice!”

“Think it’s a safety concern, f’sure.”

“Call OSHA.” You touch the shaker to his face, before going to pour it. He laughs. Actually laughs. You wish that made you feel good, still. And somewhere, in some corner of yourself, it still does. But not like it did before.

Soon enough, you two get a second of reprieve, as Vinnie’s Best Man gets up to do his speech, or whatever. He uses a knife to clink his glass, and of course, it fucking shatters. You’re half-mad, because technically for the night, those are your glasses, but it’s too funny to actually give a shit. Plus, the Best Man gets a pass tonight, in your book, because one, he understood protocol and got a vodka cran from you, and two, his speech is forcing everyone to sit down and leave y’all the fuck alone.

“Beautiful night, beautiful couple, beautiful people— Couldn’t ask for a better weddin’ for my best friend— But let’s be honest, I didn’t think he’d be gettin’ a wedding at all— Aye! This guy Vin, amirite?”

You take this moment to halve your protein bar from Carmen. You wordlessly hand the other half to him. He shakes his head. “M’Good, you eat.”

 You shove it towards him. You know he hasn’t eaten much, you don’t know how, but you just know. “I’ve eaten twelve tiny quiches and a beef sandwich, Carm, take the fuckin’ granola.”

He breathes heavily through his nose, but he takes it. You both watch the Best Man, quietly eating your halves. He is silently overjoyed at the verbal confirmation you ate the sandwich.

“I don’t need to introduce my goddamn self, I’m sure my reputation precedes me, right? But I’m Leo, I’m my boy’s Best Man, and I just couldn’t be more honoured, y’know? We grew up together, playin’ stickball in the Bronx, and now this guy’s marryin’ one of the most wonderful women in the world? And I get to be here? Man, I love ya.”

As cranky as you’ve been all night, this really is a gorgeous wedding. More often than not, the guests are nice, it’s just that the shit ones stick out in your head like nails to be hammered. Vinnie and Mira seem like a good couple. You wonder if you’ll ever get to have a wedding like this. They commissioned one of those painters to do a live painting, too. Always wanted one of those. And they’ve got little gift bags for the guests. You’re taking notes, internally, of what you like here, what you’d want to do for your own.

You wish you and Carmen were talking, right now. Despite the fact that Leo’s voice is booming throughout the hall’s speakers, the silence between you feels deafening, because you both know that you would be talking right now, if you weren’t living in fucking limbo. You need to work. You need something to do. The ice basket is running low, refilling it will take at least two minutes and maybe holding the ice will shock your nervous system.

You grab a bag of ice from the freezer behind you both, Carmen pretends to be listening to the speech, because he doesn’t feel like he has the right to help you with the weight. You cut the bag, emptying huge chunks of ice into the basket. You ball up the plastic in your hands to throw out; you nod to Carmen. “Can you break the ice?”

He seems surprised, taking a second, before nodding, crossing and uncrossing his arms. “I owe you an apology—”

“Oh, no!” You hastily correct. “No— Yes but no— I— I meant—” You hand him the metal scooper, nodding to the clumped-up ice you just poured out. “I meant can you break the literal ice blocks?”

Carmen wishes he has dead. And you can both tell that. “Yes. Yes— Yeah, f’sure, one-hundred— Course. Heard.” You nod back, pensive, throwing the plastic bag out, staring straight ahead, trying to refocus on Leo again. You can’t.

Carmen beats the ice, softly, so as to not make a noticeable noise for the audience. After a few seconds, he returns to his point. “…I do owe you an apology, though—”

“Don’t even worry about it, Carmen.” You don’t say this. Fak does. He sidles up to the bar. Where he keeps apparating from and hearing your conversations, you’re really not sure. “I’ve got this one.”

Neither you or Carmen know what Fak thinks he’s got, here, but you’re both too intrigued or surprised to stop him. Well, Carmen does give it a fair shot, after a second, “Fak, I’m—”

“Nono—” But there’s simply no chance. “I appreciate you trying to fix my problems for me, but y’know, I can handle myself, Carmen.” …You wish that’s what Carmen said, last Friday, instead of calling himself your charity tax write-off.

Fak pivots to you, sighing, shrugging, hands up, as if you know as well as he does what the fuck he’s about to say. You can’t tell if you’re supposed to be scared right now or not. When you don’t say anything, he starts, “Alright, I guess I’m the one that's brave enough to say it, there’s some major tension here.”

Now why does Fak think he’s the one to acknowledge this. Quite frankly, why is Fak here? Is he working, too? On what exactly? You don’t remember seeing him on the plane, either. Was he a part of the road trip? Dear God, that's a nightmare third wheel. You just let out a, “Huh?”

“Oh, come on, you haven’t shown up at The Bear since last Friday—” You’re now remembering that before the fight of all fights broke out that night, Fak ran out of the kitchen. Guess no one filled him in, after. “And like, this week, when something broke—” He nods to Carmen, who grimaces, hand over his face. “Carmy told me to fix it, instead of calling you, like he’d usually.”

You know you’re not allowed to be upset about that, and yet, you really fucking are. You’re Carmen’s fucking fixer. Or were? Fuck. Christ, are you jealous of Fak now? You turn your gaze just slightly to Carmen, who’s leaning over the counter, propping his head up on his hands. “What broke?”

He answers briefly. “Expo clock.”

It was extremely apt and even more upsetting for him, the way time literally stopped, when you left. When he made you leave.

You tuck your hands in your pockets, looking back to Fak. “You fix it?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.” Carmen stands back up, opening his mouth to intercept, Fak puts a hand in front of his face. “No Carm, I’ve gotta tell her the truth…” What.

“Tony…” Neil sighs, unable to make eye contact, at this moment. “I was really harsh on you, that Friday…”

“…Huh?” The fucking degree thing? Is that what he’s talking about? You honestly can’t remember anything before Carmen, from that night.

“You don’t need to hide your pain.” He nods solemnly, “I— I’m just gonna say it… I know it’s hard to believe, but I was… jealous.”

“I know.”

He ignores that you’ve said this entirely, “I know, I know, it’s crazy. Me? Jealous? But yeah, I was really good at hiding it, but you’re just really like smart, Tony, y’know? And everyone was like— Tony can fix this— Tony can fix that— And I was holding it together, but then you were good at serving, too. And it got to me— And obviously Carmen could tell, so he stopped calling you. Trying to be a true bro.”

Oh, Fak really doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, huh? “Of course there’s like, the other obvious tension in the room—” Oh okay, so he does know— “Between us.” What.

“What’s up?” You blink, voice going high for a second. Carmen cannot stop staring at Fak, face entirely unmoving, unblinking. Neither of you are sure what emotion to feel right now. Is Leo’s speech still fucking going? You’ve completely tuned it out, if it is.

Fak gestures to the air between you two. “Well like, there’s obviously a really intense sort of rivals to romance dynamic happening here…”

What.

“And like,” He raises his hands, in defense— Of what exactly? You couldn’t be less sure. “I could totally see that happening, in the future.”

It takes everything in you, to just hold your lips closed together. You have to bite down on your top lip, to not scream laugh in his face. “For sure, man.”

He nods, continuing, “But right now, I just don’t think I’m ready to take what you’re giving, y’know?” Holy shit, wait, is that how Carmen feels? Is that what the fuck is going on in his head? “Just not ready for all—” He gestures to you in general. “This.”

“Little harsh.” You tilt your head. “Fuckin’ cool it, Fak.” Carmen barks, in tandem with you. Oh, he’s upset. He wasn’t set on his emotions, this entire time, but he seems to have now settled in the upset category.

“Right.” Fak nods. “And so, I’m sorry I can’t be that for you… And I know it’s gonna take time to recover, but please come back to The Bear, when you’re ready. You’re… You’re a better repairman than me. We need you.”

You put a hand over your mouth, to cover your shit eating grin, trying your best to compose yourself and look sad. The best way out of this is to just agree with him. It’d take far too much energy to clarify everything for Fak. You’re nodding too much. “…Yeah, y’know, Fak… I will consider that. All those words you said? I’m gonna… Gonna really take all of it to heart, dude. I really appreciate… The directness— Y’know, that takes… Strength, man.”

“Thank you.” He nods. “Still friends?”

You did not realize you were even friends to start. And not in the insecure way, this time. You nod. “For sure, dude.”

You and Carmen both watch him walk away, in perplexed silence. Carm’s the first to break it. “…Was that anything—” “Obviously fucking not.”

He’s going to reply something witty in response, and it’s going to make you both feel like everything’s okay, again, but then he seems to see something that scares him straight. He turns to the back of the bar, aimlessly grabbing bottles, for no reason. Literally no reason, everyone sat for the speeches, what’s he doing—?

“You still serving?” Older man, oval glasses. He stands in front of your bar. Ah. Kinda rude of him, maybe that’s why Carmen’s giving the cold shoulder to this guy? Whatever. You'll serve him. Just because you're Chicago's Kindest doesn't mean everyone else has to be.

“Yessir, what can I fix for you?”

“Manhattan with bourbon?”

You salute, “Aye aye.” And get to mixing the drink. You’re pretty sure Carmen must know this guy, because he’s already set out the bourbon, vermouth, and angostura. It doesn’t take long to fix the drink.

When you go to hand it to the man, he seems to notice the mop of blond curls behind you. “Aye, Carmen? Jimmy told me you’d be workin’ tonight.”

A small, tentative, meek wave from Carmen. He sniffs. “Yeah. Hi, Uncle Lee.”

“Oh.” Is all you can say. Pulling the drink away from his hand, as Uncle Lee reaches for it. “You’re Uncle Lee?”

“My reputation precedes me?” He chuckles, nodding.

Carmen comes up beside you, and witnesses a smile from you that he’s never seen from you, and ideally hopes will never be directed at him. It’s the slowness of it, it’s a smile, but you’re doing it purely to bare your teeth.

“It sure does.” Give him a chance, it’s been four years, give him a chance. “I was a friend of Mikey’s.”

He fails the chance. “Ah… I see, friend, ya did a little—” He taps the side of his nose, sniffing. “Together?”

He really fucking fails the chance. Your smile grows, painfully so. The apples of your cheeks so high they practically close your eyes for you. You laugh a deeply fake laugh. “Hahaha, yeah, yeah, that’s exactly what we used to do. Uncle Lee.”

“Oh!” You tilt your wrist quickly, pouring the bourbon Manhattan in the bar sink. “Ah, fuck. Hand slipped.”

Lee is a bit taken aback. “Really—?”

“Really.” You repeat. Putting the glass down. “And y’know, I could remake that for you, but I dunno if you wanna trust my shaky junkie hands.”

Holy fuck. Carmen has always been great at keeping his reactions hidden, and still is, so Uncle Lee cannot tell how out of character this is, of you. You’re nice, you don’t bite— Or Carmy didn’t think you did, because of the amount of grace you gave him, last Friday.

“Lee, I’m gonna level with you.” You cross your arms, smile fading, but there’s still that venomous lilt in your voice. “I’ve been thinking for the last, I dunno, two years, what I’d say to you, if I had the displeasure of seeing you.”

There’s a pile of forks behind your bar, that you’d asked Richie for, just in case this situation came to a head. Just in case this fucking idiot came by. But it just doesn’t feel right, now. Doesn't feel right to leap over the counter and stab him in the neck with a fork. Though you've imagined it, and you still actively are.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod, looking around the venue. “But we’re at this beautiful wedding, and Vinnie and Mira don’t deserve to have their reception ruined by us causing a scene.” You gesture to the air between you, almost comical.

He shrugs, “Better than Mikey, in that regard, then.” You know what he’s referring to, despite not being there.

You nod, smiling real big now, really baring your teeth, now. “His fuckin’ house, Lee.”

“I could have your ass fired, y’know.” “So do it.”

You lean forward, elbows on the counter. “I’m not getting paid for this. Please, get me fired. Snitch to Uncle J, c’mon, fire me. I’m delighted to get cut. Do it.”

After what feels like eons of a silent stare down, Uncle Lee throws a fake punch. Carmen’s the only one that flinches, immediately rearing his own fist back, stopping short when Lee does.

You’re still just coy, elbows on the counter. Lee scoffs, “Cokehead.” Of course.

“Yessir.” You just lightly shake your head, standing up straight again, smiling, amused, delighted, even. “That’s me. That’s who I am.” It’s not, but there’s no point in arguing with him— Especially when you agreeing just seems to piss him off more.

You’ve given Lee nothing to work with, to insult you, so it takes him a moment to generate something. “You’re—”

You don’t let him get it out, putting a hand up for him to give it a rest. “Lee, I’m not startin’ a scene, it’s a gorgeous wedding.”

“Oh, how grown of you—” “But, if you wanna have a scene, just wait in the parking lot.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You really think—” “I do. I do think, Lee.”

You lean forward, again, shrugging, speaking nonchalant, speaking with your hands, casually. “I wanna make it so clear, for you, too. I’m not gonna crack my knuckles, not gonna make some empty threats, not gonna scream in your face— I’m not gonna tell you I’m gonna kill you or anything like that. Because obviously, I wouldn’t do that.”

You nod, slowly, methodically, clearly. “What I am gonna say, is that I have been a bartender on and off since I was twenty-one. I was an E-M-T, for three years— All in our beautiful city of Chicago, Illinois. The sheer volume of geriatric white guys I have had to pull to the concrete in a full nelson in both professions— Insurmountable, Lee. So again, to be, so fucking clear, Lee— If I see you outside, I’m taking you to the fucking pavement, and I’m not getting off.”

Uncle Lee’s got no comeback, for this, but he’d be dead in the ground before he just lets someone have the last word. This is why Uncle Jimmy is more successful. “Oh, I’m sure you fuckin’ would.”

You grin. God, those forks are tempting. Resist. You keep your hands busy by grabbing a maraschino cherry from it's jar behind your bar to snack on. “Enjoy your night, Lee.”

“You’re a real fuckin’ bi—” A fork flies over his shoulder, clattering behind him. Not from you, from Carmen.

He speaks for you. “Enjoy your night, Uncle Lee.”

It feels good to be backed. Carmen’s here, and he’s on your team. You tack on, waving goodbye to the fucker, “Back lot, Uncle Lee.”

Lee pivots his gaze to Carmen, he rolls his eyes, disappointed. “Alright, Donna.”

Carmen goes for another fork, you stop his hand, holding it there, for a second. The metal clatters behind the counter. Lee’s pleased enough with the provocation. Men like him don’t leave until they’ve won something in their heads. He leaves, on his way to the punch bowl, since he’s determined he’s not getting shit from the bar tonight. You and Carmen just watch him, like prey, making sure he leaves without looking back.

“You’ve got teeth.” Carmen’s first to speak, cleaning a glass, both of you looking straight ahead. You nod.

“I do.”

“You don’t bite much.”

You shrug. “Try not to.”

Carmen considers the fact that what he wants to say would mean sticking his foot in his mouth. He then considers the fact that nothing he could say now will ever be worse than what he said then. He keeps rubbing away at a perfectly shining glass.

“You didn’t bite me.”

“I didn’t.” You nod, and your body goes on autopilot, as you start making a drink no one’s ordered. Just need something to do. “I couldn’t.”

He doesn’t like that answer. “I deserved it.”

“I deserved it, too.” You’re not a big fan of your own answer, either. But you can’t say it’s not true. You deserved it. Just some failure leech trying to reattach yourself to people through merry good deeds, as if they’d add up to fucking anything—

“No, you didn’t.” He pivots to you, tone inarguable. He puts the glass down. It’s a lowball, you need a lowball, you grab it from him.

“Do you like cognac or vodka?” You ignore his words, but you look him in the eyes. You regret it.

He lets you get away with it, because he is absolutely not the one allowed to lead the conversation, here. He did enough bulldozing, before.

“I dunno, I don’t really drink much.” You squint, you’ve seen his apartment. He clarifies. “Other than wine n’ beer.”

You nod. You opt for cognac. He watches you, for a moment, before asking. “What’re you—”

You’re already finished, by this point, sliding the glass over to him. “Black lavender latte. Cognac n’ coffee liqueur. If it’s too strong, let me know, I can add more milk.”

“Thank you, Chef.” Is all he can think to say. He takes a sip. It’s far behind in his long list of regrets, but certainly one of them in the way he spoke to you, is that there’s a strong chance he will never have a mixologist as talented as you working at The Bear.

“Hmm.” You hum, not watching him drink it, because you won’t be able to handle either reaction— You won’t be able to handle disgust nor pleasure. You never want to look at Carmen again. He’s also all you want to see. This sucks. You suck. Carmen sucks.

“Thank you for the coffee earlier, too.” You’re overjoyed at the verbal confirmation he drank it.

“Figured you’d need one.”

“I did.” He thinks about it, and decides to take the bullet. “Needed yours.”

Your breath hitches, and he can’t tell whether or not that’s a good thing. He doesn’t get the chance to ask, as a meek and overly sweaty man comes up to your bar. There are bar stools at your counter, though they’ve been tucked far under it to keep the flow of traffic moving. But the man points down to the stool, silently asking. You nod.

“You can sit, sir.”

He’s delighted. He sits. “Sorry, I’m not gonna sit long, I just uh— Just—” He turns around pointing to the Maid of Honour, who’s just gotten on the hot mic for her speech. “I uhm, it’s— Usually the bar is empty, when uh, when people are talking.”

“That they are.” You nod, smile soft. “Can I get anything for you, or d’you just wanna sit? No shame in that.”

“I— I, uh, if it’s not a bother— I was just wonderin’ if uhm— Totally fine, if it’s— If it is— Do uhm, do you— Do you do mocktails?”

Carmen watches you grow ten times softer, in demeanor. It’s wonderful, how you’re able to flip on a dime. It’s wonderful what you’re willing to give to people, when they deserve it. You nod. “Yeah, sir. What’s your drink?”

“Oh— I— Anything’s fine, really.” He plays with the loose strings on the cuff of his left sleeve.

You tilt your head, recognizing his nervousness. “If it’s not too personal, sir, are you…” You debate the best way to say it. “Taking twelve steps?”

He looks scared, initially, to be caught; but then he looks at your face, and he knows he has nothing to be worried about. He nods. “One— Two months, two weeks, one day.”

“That’s huge.”

He shrugs. “It’s a start.”

“A start is huge.” You emphasize, and he nods, because that’s inarguable. “What was your drink before? I can make a mocktail of that— Or maybe you’d prefer somethin’ total opposite?”

“Oh! Yeah, I uh, I liked uh, old-fashioneds, but you can’t really make those without whiskey—”

“Yeah, you can.” You’re already grabbing your shaker. “You just use barley tea. I can do that— If you want that.”

He thinks on it, for a second. Debates whether nostalgia is good or not. “Yeah, yeah I’d like that.”

While you work on it, the guy feels enough confidence, bestowed by you, to tell you about himself. “I liked sitting. That was the thing I liked about drinking. The sitting and the talking and the feeling good about it.”

“I hear that.” You watch the tea steep, nodding. “Reason why the phrase is ‘takes the edge off’.”

Carmen has to turn around. He’s listening intently, but he has to turn around. Again, he’s pretty good at hiding his tells, but you’re pretty good at reading them. And you’d be able to tell his flat expression is the equivalent of being absolutely fucking bug eyed on anyone else. You’re a bartender. You were a paramedic. You have seen so many people, on their worst day— Seen so many people like this guy, like his brother. You have taken care of so many addicts.

The number of times he said loser or junkie to your face, and the way that that was what you always fought back on. It will not stop replaying, in Carmen’s head. The way you think that wasn’t okay, but the way he spoke about you was. It’s all just nauseating. You’re so good to everyone but you. You defend everyone but you. Carmen's almost furious about this, though he doesn't feel he has the right to be. You should've treated him like Uncle Lee. He acted exactly like Uncle Lee. 

“It can make it easier, to be at the bar, for some people, I've found.” You continue, still making conversation with the man as you stir the steeped tea into the glass, over ice. “Makes you feel normal.” Forced sobriety is definitely in the top five, of the most ostracizing human experiences.

He nods, relieved to have someone. “Most people don’t get that.”

You nod, strain out the virgin old-fashioned, and push the glass to him across the counter. “Well, I get that.”

He takes a sip of the mocktail, it’s perfectly nostalgic in a way that doesn’t hurt. “Thank you.” He’s thanking you for a lot more than the drink. 

“A pleasure.” You nod. He stands up, tucking the stool back under the counter, as the speeches end. It won’t be long until the bar is crowded again, and he knows it’ll be too much, for him or you. You add. “Good luck with month three. It's a heavy one.”

“If you work it and you’re worth it.” He recites the line incorrectly on purpose, it’s an important one, but you both still laugh at it. Like an inside joke, practically. You give one quick dap, he puts a twenty in your tip jar, and walks off, with less sweat, and more spring in his step, this time. Good.

When he walks away, before guests start to stand, there’s a lull of silence. You don’t need to look at Carmen to know he has a million different thoughts, and a million more follow ups. 

“You have questions?”

“None of my business.” He sniffs, awkwardly. “Unless you want it to be.”

Why did he have to fucking say it like that. Why did he have to put the ball in your court. Carmen fucking sucks. Y’know what, no, turn it on his ass.

“Did you give the New York Exec my number?”

“No.” The reply is instant. He doesn’t get thrown by the topic change in the slightest. You were pretty sure you knew the answer, but the speed of it is still a little surprising. Like it wasn’t something that was ever up for debate.

“What’d you say to him, then?”

This is when he looks embarrassed, just slightly. This part was up for debate, seemingly. “We—”

“Everyone, please stay in your seats for just a moment, our wonderful catering crew will be coming around to serve you!” Says… Vinnie’s mom? Mira’s mom? They all kind of blend together. It’s not long after this, that Syd rolls by with Marcus and a cart of food. She’s starting with you, despite the fact that you’re not a guest. Sweetie.

“Salmon or chicken?”

“Just gimme both, we’ll split it.” You nod your head to Carmen. “Best of both worlds.”

And then, the game of eye contact conversation ensues. A game that Carmen nor Marcus can comprehend.

‘I asked you’ Syd glares.

‘You can’t just starve him out’ You deadpan.

‘Who said?’

“Syd.” You say aloud. She sighs, handing you both plates, mumbling ‘whatevers’, walking off to serve the actual guests. No time to bicker. You look to Marcus, worried. “Heard about the cake, how’s it goin?”

He shrugs but he’s smirking, proud and bad at hiding it, he hands you a paper plate with a little chocolate cupcake. The floral frosting job is simple, and you know if he had more time, you’d probably be looking at a full realistic rose, but it’s still beautiful. “You tell me. Taste test.”

“Lil sacrilege, to do dessert before dinner, but okay.” You grab a fork from your pile, digging in. “Oh fuck,” You have to laugh. “Marcus— You stress me the fuck out, how do you have time to make shit this good?”

It’s a built-in habit for you, to hand your fork to Carmen. He gives you a moment to realize or pull back. You should but you don’t. He takes it, thankful, and tries the cupcake for himself.

“S’fire, Chef.” He points the fork, emphatically. “‘Specially with what you had.”

“Thank you, Chef.” Marcus nods.

You tilt your head, curious, “Do you even have time to test, though? If this sucked you wouldn’t have time to remake the full cake anyways, would you?”

“No.” He answers bluntly, and you both snort. He adds, “Just wanted to make sure you got dessert, over here.” Just wanted to make sure you ate something.

“Marcus…” You pout, overcome by the sweetness of the sweets Chef. You’ve gotta return the favour. “Gin and juice still your go-to?”

“You tryna get me fucked up at work?”

You shrug, grinning. “Are you tryna get fucked up at work?”

He’s going to say yes, but then he pauses, and looks to his boss. Looks to Carmen. Ah, you don’t run his kitchen— Get that through your head. Of course, Marcus can’t just drink—

Carmen shrugs, smiling, “Are you tryna get fucked up at work, Chef?”

Marcus claps his hands, grinning. “Yessir!”

That makes you feel a little lighter. You nod. “Gin and juice, comin’ up.”

You pour out the pineapple juice— Marcus’ preferred juice, of course you remembered. And Marcus leans over the bar, to watch you stir in the gin, even if it’s just a stupid simple drink, the guy loves to learn.

He asks, “How much they payin’ you, tonight?”

You shake your head, “Tips. Nothin’ else.”

Carmen’s ears burn, at that, while he evenly divides and plates out the salmon and chicken plates so you both have a little of everything. If things were normal you could just eat off each other's plates.

Marcus tilts his head, just as surprised. “You in debt, too?”

“Just to Mikey.” You smile, shaking your head. “No, I’m doin’ this in exchange for Uncle J getting me out of work early, a couple weeks back.”

“That’s it?”

“I was in a rush.” You shrug, measuring out the simple syrup. “Got like thirty missed texts from Syd, I thought someone fuckin’ died, didn’t have time to bargain.”

“Wait—” Marcus cannot help but grin, nearly laughing, at the ridiculousness of it, at how bad you got fucked over, by your own permission. “You’re here because you… left work… to go deliver Nat’s baby?”

“Yessir.” Are you fucking serious? Carmen can’t help but stare at the side of your head, for just a few seconds, before going back down to the plates. You’re in this hellscape of a bar, three states from your home, because you were delivering his niece? You did that for them already, and promised yourself for this, in order to do that?

“You know me,” You hand Marcus his glass, and you shouldn’t make the joke, but you can’t help yourself. “Modern day Christ.”

Marcus stifles down his snort, turning his head away from Carmen, to look at the ground. You do the same. There is something painful, about it all, for everyone; but Carmen can’t say that pain isn’t deserved, on his end, so he takes it. You’re allowed to joke about it all you want, if that’s what it takes for you to feel lighter.

A timer goes off on Marcus’ phone. He takes a sip from his gin and juice, nodding in approval, “Oh, shit— Alright, cool times up—” He lifts the glass to you, you hurriedly get the point and grab a random empty cup to clink with him, cheers.

“I’ll be back.” He says. Doubtful, you think. But you nod and wave him off nonetheless.

“If T needs a drink, tell her to take five.” You haven’t seen her tonight, but you realize yourself, again, once you say this. Not your kitchen. “Uh— If that’s, that’s okay—”

“Tell Chef to take a break if she needs it, we haven’t seen her.” Says Carmen, beside you. We. Don’t read into it. He hates you, and you hate him, actually. Carmen sucks, and so do you.

Marcus nods, and makes his mad dash off as a tsunami of guests that have just gotten their plates decide now that they want a drink with their meal. Sonofabitch.

God, you need a break. It’s really hitting you, and your stomach. As full as everyone’s tried to keep you, you really need to just sit down and have your fucking plate. Working behind a bar is a nightmare on the feet and back— Your earrings feel heavy, and your bracelets feel like handcuffs. It’s just all too much, without a break. You need a nap and maybe a thirty-minute session of just staring at a wall.

But the tsunami.

Carmen watches your side profile, and thinking back in his head, the collage of memories forming your face— He’s never seen you genuinely fatigued before. He’s seen you in the middle of the night, he’s seen you caught off guard, seen you distressed— But you’ve never really been one to ask for a break. It’s always yes of course it’s done, with you. It’s your best and worst trait.

As the crowd closes in, and your face morphs into a smile, ready to serve, Carmen claps his hands together, calling out to the sea. “Ey, sorry everyone, we’re just gonna take a quick thirty, alright? Union mandated.”

There is no such thing as a Bartender’s Union, you and Carmen very well know that. You’re about to call it off and say it’s fine before someone can throw an empty glass at your head or something, but instead, a scrawny but wide built, deeply New York Italian man, at the front of the crowd nods.

And as he nods, the crowd groans. He looks deeply offended by this. He turns to his fellow guests. “Where do y’all get off? We fought for those thirty-minute breaks, you fucks!” This quiets them pretty quickly. “We can live with the fuckin’ punch bowl for thirty minutes, c’mon.”

Carmen gets close enough to whisper to you, but far enough that it’s still not personal. Far enough that he still hates you. “Most of the family does or did service work. Say ‘union mandated’ and you can do anythin’”

You smile, watching the crowd dissipate, you crack a joke, because that’s probably what you’re supposed to do. “Union mandated… Murder?”

“Revolt, y’mean?” “Is that an offer?” “I’d ride for you.”

It’s supposed to be light and fun, but you can’t stop yourself, you can’t play the part and it comes out. “Would you?”

That one hurts. It all hurts, but that one really gets Carmen. That you’d have genuine reason to have pause about his dedication to you. Not your fault, his.

You grab your plate from his side of the counter, embarrassed by your instinctual prod. “Sorry.”

He’s not embarrassed by his. “Stop apologizing.”

There’s a heavy silence, before Carmen adds, “I’m supposed to be fuckin’ apologizing.”

There are no more interruptions. Fak isn’t going to come by, patrons are leaving you be, the staff is either helping Marcus or serving food. There is nothing left, to interrupt you two. This is going to happen. Christ, why does Never Let Me Down Again have to be playing right now? That’s not a fucking wedding song. This is too dramatic and simultaneously awkward and clunky and bad. There is no somethings left for you to do. There is nothing left to do, but talk. Nothing left to do but escape the void, ideally together. Please let it be together. You hate to admit it, but you want it to be together.

There is no good place to sit. So, you pick up your plate, and one of the many forks from your pile. With a sigh, you crouch down, and slide yourself underneath the counter, sitting with your legs folded, so Carmen can join you. You nod to him, to let him know that he can in fact join you.

He does. You take a few bites, in silence, before he breaks it.

“I didn’t mean a fuckin’ word.”

“It’s okay if you did.” You can’t look up from your plate. You deserved it.

He says your name, with a severity, to it. “—I didn’t mean a fucking word.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

“I—” Despite rehearsing what he wanted to say, and having ample stage to say it, he does not know how to say any of it, anymore. “I was like, like, jealous? But not in the— Not in the normal way.”

“Normal way?”

“Like, I didn’t— Well I did— But I like—” He puts his fork down, “I saw you as competition.”

You don’t know what to say, and so he keeps going. “I saw you like… Like being so perfect at everything, and being so… Being so what everyone needed, and you being there, and and— I felt so… the way you can just do that— Like— Like you can just be you and it just works. And I just fucking can’t.”

A talent you share with his brother. A talent Carmen envied in Mikey, and thus, envies in you.

“And then I got so… weird about that thought. Like you being you is— You’re for everyone. And I got this idea in my head that…” He cringes, trying to find better wording in his head for it, and he can’t. “That you were for me.”

“But you’re not for me—” “Ouch.” “—Not what I meant.”

He thanks you, internally, for being willing to add levity, right now. “I lo— I like you, so much. And I don’t want you to change. If you were like…” He half gestures to himself, which you’re not a big fan of the deprecation, but you let it slide. “Cold, and not for anyone, you wouldn’t be… you.”

Carmen realized as much, watching you tonight. Watching you interact with full strangers to long time friends. If you were callus, you wouldn’t be you. If you didn’t love his family as much as he did, he wouldn’t have attached himself to you, so quickly. He loves the way that you love. The way that you can’t turn it off. It’s not that Carmen isn’t special. It’s that you are so fucking special. He’s fucking stupid for not connecting those dots, earlier.

He picks up his fork again, needing to do something with his hands. Your brows remain furrowed, as you try to walk back how he spiraled from what and where. 

“So, you just wanted to take me down a peg?”

He shakes his head. “It— I— With Mikey, I— I saw some shit that made me think that I was just… fillin’ a gap, or you were just being so good to me out of like… Guilt.” He chews down on his salmon. “And I couldn’t find your fuckin’ invoice, so I just kept drilling into my head that I was just… Charity.”

“You’re not charity.” You’re quick to refute.

“You didn’t fail Mikey.” So is he.

Oh Christ. You nod, but you don’t believe it. “You weren’t wrong to say it.” You have to put your plate down. “I— I don’t see you like I saw Mikey, at all. But I do…” You trail off, just looking at him has you tearing up.

He leaves home so early. He comes home so late. He looks so tired. Gaunt. Has he been eating? Did he light his oven on fire again? Remember how he looked in the freezer. Remember how Mikey looked in the freezer? Remember how they are so so different. They are so different but you still can’t stop connecting every fragment and taking it as a sign and worrying so fucking much, so fucking paranoid—

“Do what?” He swallows his last bite of chicken, and you can’t stop looking at him and fuck you just can’t hold it back, this time. You were doing so good about this. This isn’t even the point of the conversation— Well, kind of. Just breathe.

As your eyes begin to water, he sets his plate aside on the floor, reaching out immediately, worried, immediately. He pauses, hand floating in the air. Hesitating. “Fuck—Can I?”

Eyes barely open, you nod. He’s quick to take your plate from your hands, set it aside, and hug you there. It’s awkward, underneath a bar counter, half sitting, half crouching, grappling you. Carmen does not wish to be anywhere else.  

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and babble, unable to hold back a fear that’s been long standing, since the day you met him.

“Sometimes you remind me of Mikey so much and I get so scared and I just— Fuck, I just— Please don’t kill yourself, Carmen.” His arms wrap around just a bit tighter, as do yours. “I know that’s selfish—”

“It’s not.” Mumbled, to your neck. Skin to skin isn’t really the focal point, here, but there is a lurking part of his subconscious fearing that he will never be able to hug you like this, again. Never be your rock. “I won’t.”

It’s silent, for a minute. You believe him. He holds you there, and you believe him.

“Why did you think all that? That you were filler?” You pull back, just a bit, to look at his face. “Did I do something to make you feel like that?”

“No— God no. You’re—” He swallows. It feels stupid now, to even say how his fucking tantrum started, you had it so much worse, in your head. Why didn’t you tell him? “I was looking for your invoice, and—”

“I forgot the booths, by the way.” You recall the shoddy invoice you wrote. It’s a stupid time to interrupt, but as you slowly grow more comfortable, inches from his face, it feels like the time to be stupid. “And taxes. I owe you something more like eighteen-seventy.”

“You don’t owe me shit.”

“I’m paying back a Berzatto, somehow.”

“Where’d that money come from?”

“Where’d your tirade come from?”

He swallows again, getting back to the point. “I found a folder. Called ice chips, or something like that— But it wasn’t for ice. It was, for you.”

You look at him, genuinely perplexed for a second. Then you get it. And it makes a lot more sense, why Carmen knows you failed Mikey—Try as he might to deny it. “Oh… You found my Ice folder.”

“Fuck’s that mean?” You’re glad, honestly, that he’s never had a reason to learn what it means. It’s fair. You had to teach it to Mikey, too.

“Ice. I-C-E, Carmen. It’s an acronym.” You spell it out, slow. “In Case of Emergency. I-C-E.”

It knocks the wind out of him, immediately. He’s extra glad he’s holding onto you, because he’s starting to feel untethered. “What?”

You nod. It’s time to walk him through it. You have to tell him. “I made Mikey keep some sort of emergency stuff as a fail-safe, for when he forgot people wanted him alive.” When Carmen’s quiet, you continue. “I was in his work cabinet, I think Richie was in his bedside, you and Sug were in his wallet.”

His stomach lurches, at the idea of being the emergency his brother always had on him. “You knew he was suicidal?”

Who didn’t? You think, but don’t say, because that’s not fair. Mikey cut him out, how could he know?

“Everyone’s suicidal, when they’re trying to get sober.”

“What?”

“What?” You parrot back. It’s both your turns, to squint at the other, confused beyond belief now. How is he confused? You’re first to ask. “Carmen, what was in my ice folder?”

“Anniver— Oh my fucking God.” He unwraps himself from you, because he’s frankly too ashamed to touch you, realizing everything he misunderstood. “Oh, my fucking God.”

You let him go, though you don’t particularly want to. He’s probably realizing he’s hugging the enemy. 

“Carmen—?” “You didn’t fucking date Mikey.”

“What?!” You jump, your head hits the bottom of the base of the bar’s sink. “Fuck! Ow, no— What?!”

It’s a mess of limbs and emotions, as he grabs your head haphazardly, seeing if you’re hurt— It honestly hurts more, to be pulled around like this. “Are you o—” You don’t let him finish, grabbing at his wrists, ignoring your sore head.

“You thought I’d fuck your brother and then—What— try to fuckin’ get the whole set?” You’re cringing at the thought. This had just never come up in your mind. You would’ve set him straight, if it did. It was way worse in his head. Why didn’t he tell you? “I— Carmy, babydoll, are you fucking insane?”

You say nice pet names, when you’re perplexed. You’ve got a pattern of doing so. He also has no comeback for this, completely mum. You release his wrists. You add, again, aghast. “How old do you think I am?”

“Ah— As old as Syd?” “Correct.” “So, twenty-eight?”

“Turning, but yeah.” You nod, like a teacher walking him through a problem. “And how old was Mikey?”

“Forty something.” “Forty-three.” “No one remembers their brothers’ age—” “Sixteen years. Carmen.”

You press your hands over your eyes. “And listen, I get at a point age is just a number but I was twenty-five when I met him and he was already fucking forty— I grew up with Muppet Babies and he grew up with Muppets. Period end of sentence.”

You sigh. This situation isn’t funny at all, but you feel a load lighten off of you significantly. And also the situation is extremely funny. It’s hard to be mad at someone this thrown off. 

“It’s just— Listen, do I think Mikey’s hot? Absolutely—”

“Alright—” He cringes, putting a hand in the air, asking you to lay off this train of thought.

“Oh, what do you want me to say ‘your genetic make-up fucking sucks actually’? No, you have a hot family, Carmen.”

“Say this in any other way but this one.”

“I did not date your brother, Carmen.” You finalize, he breathes lighter. “Think about it for like more than two seconds. Richie would’ve fuckin’ run his mouth about it immediately— Would’ve said you’re getting sloppy seconds or call me a fuckin’ homie hopper—”

“I did think that he’d say that, yeah.”

“Well fuckin’ think harder on it, next time—” “Well, what about the joint bank account?”

The most romantic paperwork he’d ever seen. It makes you pause, and Carmen’s considers a universe where you’re just the most incredible pathological liar in existence. 

“I made him make it.” You finally say, saddened just thinking about the failsafe that didn’t fucking work. “I didn’t put any money in it.”

“Why’d you want it, then?” The idea of you dating his brother quiets in his head, now he just wants to listen.

“So I could keep track of his spending and withdrawals.” You pick up your fork and twirl it around, like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Need something to do with your hands. “Mostly his withdrawals.”

Carmen thinks about it, trying to tie together the red strings in his head without asking you first. “So you could see if he was buying.”

“If he knew he was being watched, he was less inclined to deal.” You shrug and nod. “Plus I wanted him to get into the habit of keeping savings.”

“Lotta good that did.” Carmen can’t help but laugh, pitifully, at that. “Everythin’ got claimed, when he kicked it.”

You shake your head, you tuck your knees to your chest. “Not everything.”

He just looks at you, curious, waiting for you to explain. Mikey had so much credit card debt— Everything he had outside of fucking tomato cans was claimed. 

You shrug. “Not the accounts he wasn’t sole proprietor on.”

Joint bank account. It was partially your money, technically. It deferred to you. Carmen’s head just falls over, another painful realization of another thing you did, that he got completely wrong. You never gave Mikey a cent. You just gave him the protection of your name and credit score.

“Why’d you do all that, for him?”

Holy shit, he doesn’t know. Carmen doesn’t actually know you killed Mikey. You live in a world, still, where Carmen doesn’t completely rightfully blame you. You tap your fingers on your knees. Staring aimlessly. There is nothing else to do.

“Anyone ever tell you why I get called Chip?”

“I asked Richie. Said to ask you.” Carmen shakes his head, he’s a bit sick of himself, for being almost excited to get an answer about this. “Said it was personal.”

You squint and snort. “Since when does Richie give a fuck about personal?”

Carmen smiles, finally, and tucks his knees to his chest to mimic you. “Since me, I guess.”

“Good influence.” You smile, trying to distract from the nervousness, thrumming hard in your chest. Spit collects in your throat like it’s trying to choke you. “I uhm… Chippy is, uh, Mikey started calling me Chip or Chippy cause of uhm—”

You take a moment, one deep breath. A breath of air in the world before Carmen knows. A sanctimonious breath.

You pull at the long black rope chain on your neck, pulling it out from underneath your top, where it’s always been safely tucked. Not hidden necessarily, just always close to your chest. Close to your heart.

“It’s a joke, about— It’s like—”

Just do it, Chip. Let it rip.

“It’s—”

You hold out your fist for him to put his hand out and take it. Carmen gets the point and holds his palm out. You press the pendant into his hand. Holding your hand over it, for a moment, as if you could decide now that actually he shouldn’t be allowed to see this. Like there’s still an escape option, somehow.

You move your hand, you try to speak calmly, as he stares. And the text on the large round pendant stares back at him.

To Thine Own Self Be True.

“Sobriety chip.” Unity, Service, Recovery.

A proud and large 3 months, in the middle of the triangle, leers back at Carmen.

“I was— I was Mikey’s sponsor.”

Now y'all in my asks see why I was waiting, eh?

Ya caught on! Well, after thinking collectively, ya caught on. Some of you got it quick. Anyways, I shouldn't be talking about this like it's some gotcha, it's deeply painful.

A lot of hard confirmations! Fuck! This conversation was so hard to navigate, because I was like-- There's just so much for them to catch up on, and so they keep like moving forward and so I was like wait I have to go back and address this-- No. That's not how most real convos like this work, they just keep running forward, they can clarify later. Such a weird brain challenge. I was tweaking. I hope it's sensical to read? If it's not, dw, i'll walk into the sea about it.

Can you believe this chapter began with Syd/Chip/Richie? Absolutely bonkers. We started with getting ready in a hotel/taking a flight. We were so young, then. I've gotta go watch season 3, so don't send me spoilers, but please send me literally any and all thoughts about this chapter. I really fuckin-- Rah.

I'm happy with this chapter and I honestly think I will probably make a separate post sometime this week showing bits you might've missed-- So much of this was me harkening back to those first three chapters. I went back and reread them recently and I was like woah. I don't know how I did the thing where the writing style felt distant and slowly became close as they became close as characters, but I did feel like that was a thing. In the early chapters. Having to recreate that distant feeling here? Oh fuck. Brutalizing feeling.

Oh but on the more cute side, if you also see Tony as Desi, I was thinkin like a lehenga style blouse with all the work, and like, some black flared pants? and she's got big fuckin jhumkas, OF COURSE!!! OF COURSE BRO!!! But I just left it at semi-cultural so everyone could have fun, hehehe

I feel almost certain, someone's gonna be missing from this tag list, and for that, a thousand pardons, I am gonna put it in my notes app so I don't forget next time, mbmbmb, also added people that did not ask but you are so frequent that i feel like you're just forgetting to ask? idk if you wanna get taken off always just ask dw

@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @sharkluver @fridavacado @hoetel-manager @mrs-perfectly-fine

anyways, if you wanna be added send me your thoughts/analysis/diagnosis at length + ask to be added and i will ! try! sometimes they get lost and i am sorry abt that but i do try!

Next Part

[joi-me-hoi-me-noi]

MHA trying to ask you out (Gone Wrong)

A/n: I decided to try an idea that just popped into my big bulky brain because yes! This features: Mirio, Tamaki, Shigaraki, Midoriya & Bakugo

Extra A/n: Requests are open, feel free to request anything!

TOGATA Mirio -

He first met you after the fight with Overhaul. You and a bunch of students with healing quirks rushed into the room. Right before he fainted from blood loss, he saw your face. You were beautiful even with the serious expression on your face. You watched in amazement as he rushed out of his hospital room to go see Sir Nighteye.

When he got back to UA, he was helping students train by using him as a civilian in need. While coming back into the school, he saw you at the window. You looked up, saw him and waved. He waved back while Nejire watched with a smirk.

"You like her, don't you?"

"I do."

"Wow! So forward Mirio! Are you gonna ask her out?"

He nods. The thing is you are the second person to ever make him nervous. Like extremely nervous. You had a somewhat serious personality. He's rarely seen you smile. That's his main goal!

"I'm going to ask her out tomorrow!"

When tomorrow came, Mirio was sweating so bad. Even Tamaki was frightened.

"Mirio, you could always wait another day."

"No, I'm gonna do it today!"

You were usually in the medical office alone since Recovery Girl said you were fully capable of doing so. You see his tall frame in the middle of the doorway and peer over. A single pink tulip in his shaking hand.

"Did your stitches open again?" You question, quickly standing from your chair.

"N-No. I'm fine Y/n."

You raise an eyebrow at him and then eye the tulip.

"I-I wanted to ask you something Y/n."

"Go on."

"Would you like to go on a date-"

All of a sudden, he goes through the floor and his clothing. When he reappears, he's bare, booty, butt naked! Now you're both flustered and in complete shock. You turn your back to him and let out a breath. He can see your shoulders moving slightly. Were you laughing? He couldn't help but smile when he heard your snort.

"I - I haven't laughed like that in a long time! But yes, I will go out with you Togata."

He hands you the tulip and smiles at you.

"I'm glad!"

"You're still naked Togata."

"Oh right..."

---

AMAJIKI Tamaki -

He always thought you were pretty; he's seen you around school sometimes. He was walking with Mirio and Neijire to go to Class 1-A when he saw you rushing to class. You gave him a small wave before continuing to your class. His face went red from the interaction.

"Someone caught your eye, Amajiki?" Neijire said, elbowing him softly in the arm.

He simply let out a groan and kept walking. During the representation of the Big 3, all he could think about was you. Even at lunch, he was just thinking of you and sighing. A confident person like yourself wouldn't want to be with him anyway.

"How about you just ask them Tamaki. It wouldn't hurt."

"It could."

"How about we all come with you to talk to her. We'll keep our distance."

He couldn't believe he agreed to those terms. He was extremely nervous already. Neijire found out your favorite flower and where you eat the most. He saw you talking to your friend outside, the sun making your skin and eyes glow like stars.

"Let's hurry Amajiki." She shoves a bouquet of [F/f]s into his hand and opens the door for him.

Soon your friend walks away and leaves you at the fountain. You mess with the water with your quirk. Amajiki approaches you nervously.

"Hey there, Amajiki! What's u-"

You catch sight of your favorite flowers and then Neijire in the background who was looking but quickly directed her attention back to Mirio.

"Are - Are those-" You couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the flowers. That's why Neijire was asking you those questions.

You take the flowers from Tamaki, accidentally brushing hands. Tamaki starts to fall backward into the fountain, but you use your quirk to gently cradle him with the water. You see Neijire and Mirio rush over to see what happened to Tamaki.

"He - He fainted. I can assume what he wanted to ask."

"And?" Neijire inquires, staring between you and Tamaki.

"I'll let him know whenever he wakes up. Will me answering directly make him faint again?"

"Probably..."

---

SHIGARAKI Tomura -

(Takes place right before the battle in season 7 :) )

You were the one that gave him a lot of things. Dare I say a purpose. You were All for One's right hand and helped Shigaraki get started. AFO ordered you to stay with him for the first couple of years and then come back to him to work. Shigaraki's feelings grew for you after he saw what you could do and offer. He invited you into the League of Villains, but you declined and explained why you couldn't join.

He blamed his 'father' for being such a pain in the ass. You'd came back once and only once talking about a certain kid that AFO wanted for his quirk. But he can finally see you, without his father taking you away from him. He could almost cry when he saw you.

"Y/n..."

You turn around and face your boss. The city was in ruins all around.

"Shigaraki."

He walks over to you and leans against a big piece of rubble.

"I wanted to ask you something, if we're both alive after this."

A loud blast of wind shoots through the sky and you both direct your attention there. It's the kid that he was after. He brings you in for a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Get as far away from the city as possible."

He shoots into the air and leaves you amongst the rubble.

"WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANTED TO ASK ME!?"

---

MIDORIYA Izuku -

As soon as Izuku saw you walking down the hallway to your next class, he gathered his courage to speak to you. He simply waves and you wave back as you walk over to him.

“Hey Izuku! What’s up?”

“Y/n, what class are you coming from?”

He looks you up and down, noticing the stains on your face and clothes.

“Oh, Hatsume blew something up again and I was trying to help her fix it. We’re both fine, thank goodness.”

He nods along and adds onto the conversation before asking you a question. At least trying to…

“Y/n…”

“Izuku…”

“Would - would you like to go-“

All of a sudden, he is gone in a flash. You frantically look around trying to find where he went. Iida snatched him up by his hero costume and bought him right in front of their classroom. He runs back up to you and looks at you while adjusting his glasses.

“We were talking Iida…”

“It’ll have to wait, you should get to class L/n.”

Iida runs back to class 1-A and drags Izuku inside. His face was very red. Even from far away you could see it.

———

BAKUGO Katsuki -

He really loved your quirk and you of course. He just didn’t know how to say it. He would stare at you a lot but turned and pretended to do something when you looked his way. To his friends, it was absolutely adorable how he was treating you.

He helped you during training and always shared some of his snacks with you. His friend group would watch in amazement, he was very territorial with his spicy chips and noodles. And they finally decided to confront him about it.

“Do you like L/n?”

“What are you trying to say?!”

“Why are you dodging my question?” Mina raised an eyebrow and smirked.

He simply scoffed and munched on his chips.

You entered the common area with a blanket wrapped around your shoulder. You said hello to everyone before sitting down next to Bakugo.

“I thought you were going to bed L/n.”

“I was but it’s so fucking cold in my room. I came out here to sit next to my personal heater.” You lean on Bakugo’s shoulder.

His friends whisper to each other before fake yawning and saying they were heading to their rooms. You say bye to them and huddle close to Bakugo.

Katsuki could feel his face heating up. He was unusually sweaty. He’s never sweated this bad before, only when in combat for his quirk.

“Y/n. Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm…” Your tired eyes looked into his red ones.

“I…I.” He looks at your lips and then back at your eyes. You’re smiling.

You’re both leaning in closer to each other and slowly closing your eyes. Then the door opens wide to reveal Deku. He came back from his run and his eyes widen when he sees the both of you.

“Uh… I’m gonna go.” He quickly speed walks to the hallway as Katsuki glares at him.

“Damned Deku…”

His eyes meet yours again and you both lean in again. You hear someone’s throat clear but ignore it and try to continue. Your eyes shoot open when you see Aizawa standing there, using his scarf to pull you both away from each other.

“It’s past curfew. Go to bed.”

———

A/n: Again… requests are open and check my pinned post to see who I write for.

[appalachianapologies]

Writers! Share some of your favorite phrases you've written in the tags, spread the love and be little bit vain about your own work

[harunayuuka2060]

Twst Unveil Event Part 5

Leona: Congrats. Ruggie sent me the video of your first match.

Leona: You really beat the shit out of that crocodile.

Yuurin: Thank you, Leona-senpai.

Leona: Was falling off the cliff necessary, though? *in a bit worried tone*

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I'll be more careful.

Leona: Tch. Like you would listen.

Leona: Anyway, who's going to be your next opponent?

Yuurin: Floyd Leech.

Leona: Oh really? *clicks his tongue*

Leona: I heard they get to choose the place?

Yuurin: Yes.

Leona: ...

Leona: I'm hanging up now.

Yuurin: Will you be calling Ruggie-senpai and Jack after this?

Leona: ...

Leona: No. *ends the call*

Yuurin: ...

*Meanwhile*

Leona: Oi, Ruggie!

Ruggie: Geez, Leona! What now?!

Leona: You better show Yuurin's fight to me on real-time or I'm gonna turn your ass to sand!

Ruggie: Okay, okay! I just got too excited so I forgot to video call you!

Jack: ...

Jack: I thought you did it on purpose because you didn't want to be bothered?

Ruggie: ...

Leona: Ruggie.

Ruggie: He was just joking!

Ruggie: Back me up here, Jack!

Philomela: Introducing our contenders for the second match: Yuurin and Floyd Leech!

Floyd: Yaaaaay~!

Yuurin: ...

Silver: Everyone seems excited for this second match.

Rook: Oui. That is no surprise.

Rook: After all, Monsieur Malfeasant has considered everything for this. *chuckles*

Floyd: Ne~ Damselfish~.

Yuurin: ?

Floyd: I won't underestimate you like Crocodile did~.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I know that, senpai.

Floyd: Hehe~ I'll enjoy fighting with you~.

Floyd: Please do your best~.

Yuurin: ...

Philomela: I'm sending you now to your designated location!

Philomela: Good luck! *laughs*

*In an underwater cavern*

Epel: Wha— Why?!

Malleus: This is going to be challenging for Yuurin.

Jade: Indeed. *chuckles* Floyd chose the right place.

Jack and Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: Hey, Philomela. Can Yuurin see effectively in the dark?

Philomela: *laughs* Of course not! He's not nocturnal!

Jack and Ruggie: !!!

Jack: Then Yuurin is in a great disadvantage!

Philomela: The greater the challenge, the more excitement we'll get!

Epel: Wow... You don't care about Yuurin's safety, do you?

Sebek: She is his mentor. She knows what she's doing.

Yuurin: ...

Floyd: *who has concealed himself by hiding behind a rock* *smirks while he slowly approaches from behind*

Yuurin: ...

Floyd: Heh~ *kicks Yuurin into the water*

Yuurin: !!!

Yuurin: *finds herself being submerged in it, with Floyd pushing her to the bottom*

Floyd: HEHE~!

Epel, Malleus, Sebek, Jack, and Ruggie: !!!

Epel: He's drowning him!

Jade: *smirks*

Sebek: Dammit, human! Why are you allowing him to push you around?!

Philomela: *amused smile*

Floyd: We're at the rock bottom now, Damselfish~.

Yuurin: *who couldn't read his lips because of the darkness*

Yuurin: *feels the rocky surface underneath her feet*

Yuurin: *grabs his arms, maneuvers herself so that he's positioned over her shoulder, and then forcefully slams him down onto the rock*

Floyd: Oof—

Yuurin: *quickly swims back up to create distance*

Epel: Yes! Go, Yuurin!

Jack: Floyd-senpai is after him!

Floyd: Don't escape from me, Damselfish~. *has caught up to her*

Floyd: *goes behind her and starts to perform a Full Nelson Hold; even coiling his tail around her waist*

Floyd: Damselfish~ How are you feeling now~? *squeezing her tight*

Malleus: Is Leech attempting to deprive him of oxygen?

Jade: Yes. We're fully aware that Yuurin can stay underwater for 30 minutes.

Jade: However, will it be the same if he's being squeezed tight like that? *smirks*

Epel, Jack, Ruggie, and Sebek: ...

Philomela: Impressive tactic, yes. Anyone would have to tap out in that situation.

Philomela: Though, are you seeing Yuurin struggle for air?

Jade: Huh?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *starts blowing bubbles*

Floyd: That's right, Damselfish~. Let all your air out~.

Yuurin: *starts to bend her body upward*

Floyd: Eh?

Yuurin: *while continuously blowing bubbles*

Floyd: Eh? EH?

Floyd: *not realizing that he fails to maintain the hold as he finds her actions amusing*

Jade: Oh no. This is bad.

Floyd: Hehehe~! This if fun, Damselfish—

Yuurin: *has sneaked behind him while he was distracted; wrapping her arms around his torso* *then starts squeezing him "tight"*

Floyd: AHHH!!!!

Jade: ...

Philomela: *loudly laughs* Ah, yes! Return the favor, Yuurin!

Epel: D-Does that really hurt?

Malleus: Lilia mentioned to me once that Yuurin can break a steel in half with his bare hands.

Jack: Huh?

Sebek: ...

Sebek: *remembers the handcuffs*

Sebek: Yes... That's right...

Philomela: Yes! YES!!! SQUEEZE HIM TIGHTER, YUURIN!

Floyd: *ends up fainting underwater and Yuurin has to bring him to the surface with her*

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Floyd-senpai.

Philomela: He's out cold, Yuurin! Let him be! *laughs*

Yuurin: I see.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *lightly smacks his face to confirm*

Jade: ...

Jade: Well, that was an entertaining match.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: Yeah...

Leona: ...

Leona: I'm going there right now.

Ruggie: Huh? What? *completely forgot about him*

Ruggie: Leona—

*Leona has ended the video call.*

Ruggie: Ah, shit. We're screwed.

Jack: He was watching the whole time?

Ruggie: Yeah. Remember he asked to watch it in real-time?

Ruggie: He was silent the entire time so I thought he dozed off...

Jack: ...

Floyd: *once he regained consciousness*

Floyd: I can't believe you would use my own move against me~ Hehehe~.

Floyd: I should've taken you more seriously~. Sorry about that, damselfish~.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: You managed to leave bruises on my body.

Floyd: Where?

Yuurin: *shows him the side of her waist*

Floyd: Eh~ That's the only injury you've got~?

Yuurin: Yes.

Floyd: Hehe~ That's fine~. You'll be treated anyway~.

Yuurin: No. I won't be treated until all of the matches are over.

Floyd: Oh... So you're going to carry that injury then?

Yuurin: *nods*

Floyd: Aww... Okay. Let me give you hug to make you feel better~.

Yuurin: No, thank you.

Floyd: But you hugged me earlier~.

Yuurin: That wasn't to comfort you.

Floyd: Hehe~ Fair enough~.

Silver: Yuurin is really strong.

Rook: Oui! *chuckles* I can't wait for my turn to fight Monsieur Tranquille!

Silver: ...

Silver: It's my turn next.

Silver: I will give my best.

Rook: I know you will, Monsieur Sleepyhead!

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

—PART SEVEN

PAIRING: LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM! FALLEN ANGEL! READER

FANDOM: HAZBIN HOTEL

GENRE: ROMANCE

WARNINGS: CURSING & ADAM

NOTES: I tried to write the fight scene but I think it's shit sooo anyways, hope you guys like it lol

PART ONE | PART SIX | FINALE

“Are you worried...?” [y/n] asked softly against Lucifer's chest as they cuddled on his bed, his thumb rubbing circles on her back. These past few months they have gotten closer, though unsure how to speak about their growing feelings for each other. They both know but also don't know how to approach the other and talk about it. They had a mutual unspoken agreement that both of them aren't ready yet, especially Lucifer who cannot yet part from his beloved wedding ring.

Lucifer sighs, clearly worried. Today is the extermination day and he is scared for his daughter but despite his power, he doesn't have enough to intervene unless heaven breaks their contract then he'll have to do something about it.

“Of course, I am.” he whispers, his hand squeezing [y/n]'s waist slightly, [y/n] noticing it immediately and sighs before pulling herself away from his embrace and sitting down beside him on the empty spot of his bed, making Lucifer pout slightly at the loss of contact.

“I understand but if something does happen, we will both be there to help them.” [y/n] says with a small smile, poking the redness of his cheek. [Y/n] admired him, the soft pink lighting coming from the tinted windows caressing his light complexion, adding depth to his otherworldly beauty. Truly divine.

His eyes half-lidded as he gazed at her, she was sitting against the streak of light, the shadows accentuating her features, he admired her [e/c] eyes hidden behind her long eyelashes, the plumpness of her lips, the softness of her cheeks. All of her is beautiful to him.

Lucifer quickly shakes off his thoughts, what were they doing again?

With a sigh, he smiled at her, “Yes, we'll be there to help if something ever goes wrong.” he says, slowly intertwining his hand with hers and with her squeezing his in return after. The two looked at each other with smiles on their faces, eyes dilated as they saw the other through heart shaped glasses.

Unfortunately, the peaceful atmosphere was broken as Lucifer's eyes widened, something that [y/n] noticed immediately which made her worried.

“Is there something wrong?” [y/n] asked, worried as she can clearly see the distress look on Lucifer's face. He quickly sat up and held her shoulders.

“We have to go, now!” Lucifer exclaimed, distressed and [y/n] can already tell that something happened with Charlie. She nodded and allowed Lucifer to hold her hand as he pulled her inside with him to a portal he just opened.

Finally arriving, anger flashed within their veins. Realizing the situation, Charlie getting choked by none other than Adam, Vaggie being held back by Lute, and the others surrounded by multiple exorcists.

Lucifer and [y/n] looked at each other, not needing to speak what they wanted to convey to each other.

“I'll handle Adam.”

“Then I'll handle Lute and the others, stay safe.”

“You too. Please, I can't lose you too.”

Then they nodded and separated their ways. Lucifer immediately swoops down to save Charlie by punching Adam on the face and quickly catching the girl in his arms while [y/n] quickly swooped in to push Lute away from Vaggie.

Both Charlie and Vaggie's eyes widened, finally seeing the two powerful angelic beings they know.

“Dad!?” Charlie exclaimed, surprised but thankful he came to help her and her friends, turning to look at Vaggie who was supported by none other than [y/n], holding the girl's body in support.

“And Miss [y/n]?” she added, surprised that the woman is also here. Lucifer smiled down at his daughter, gently putting her down on to the ground.

“Sorry we weren't here sooner, sweetie.” He says softly, patting the girl's head. Charlie was just glad they are here.

[Y/n] turned to look at Vaggie, helping the poor girl by healing her wounds. “You poor thing, are you alright?” [y/n] asked her and Vaggie just nodded, shoulders relaxing as she felt her exhaustion and pain going away as the older woman healed her.

“Yes, now that you healed me. Thank you.” Vaggie says and [y/n] smiles before turning around at the sound of Adam grunting.

“Seriously! How many of you freaks do I have to fight?” Adam angrily says as he climbs back up the roof. Lucifer smirked as he began to pull his sleeves up as he approached Adam and Vaggie heard [y/n] whistle slightly.

“Oh I'm the only one that matters, see, you messed with my daughter and now... I am going to FUCK YOU!” Lucifer exclaimed proudly with a smirk on his face.

Silence. Clearly taken aback by the king of hell's statement. Some smirking and raising an eyebrow at him.

Me first... Wait who said that? [Y/n] thought to herself, almost chuckling. Vaggie looking at her, almost as if she could read her mind. [Y/n] just giving the ex-exorcist an innocent smile.

Charlie hesitantly leaned towards her father to whisper to his ear, “Its fuck you up, dad.” she says and Lucifer looked at her with confusion, “Wait... What did I say...?” he asked and was quickly pushed by Adam.

[Y/n]'s eyes demonically reddened in anger and her nails sharpened for a brief moment as she saw Lucifer getting hurt but quickly disappeared as Lucifer was able to come out unscratched. A sigh of relief left [y/n]'s lips. Vaggie just stood terrified next to her, the first witness to her demonic side.

[Y/n] gave a raised eyebrow at the girl, confused why the girl was so terrified of all of the sudden but quickly shakes her head as she flies down to help the others.

Snapping her fingers, golden chains came out of the ground and grabbed the exorcists' wrists. Flicking her wrist to flick the exorcists away from her friends. She's unsure if she's allowed to kill them so she opted in just throwing them as far as possible.

“You're the most hated being in all of creation!” Adam sneered angrily, annoyed as Lucifer kept dodging his attacks.

Lucifer smirked, “Whoah! Well your first wife didn't seem to hate what I have to offer or the second~! bow-chika-bow-wow!” He says, doing some thrust gestures which angered Adam even more.

“I'll fucking end you!” Adam growled as he tries to catch up to Lucifer.

She chuckled as she could slightly hear Lucifer making fun of Adam, Lucifer is clearly enjoying himself.

Turning around to look at the Hazbin Hotel crew, “Are you guys okay?” [y/n] asked and Angel Dust smirked, “Yeah, now that you guys are here toots!”

[Y/n] giggles, her wings flapping behind her back to keep her afloat, “Glad to know! Keep yourself safe? Mhmm? I'm going to help him a bit!” she says and Angel gave her a salute and continues to gun down the other exorcists.

Flying back to the roof to see Lute fighting Vaggie again, quickly summoning her chains to wrap around Lute's neck, “Leave her the fuck alone!” [y/n] screamed angrily, eyes burning red in anger and she quickly swung the chain, throwing the Lieutenant away from Vaggie. Charlie running towards them in concern.

“Vaggie! Are you okay?!” [y/n] asked worriedly, her normal appearance returning but her eyes widened as she saw Adam about to fire a large holy beam towards her, Charlie and Vaggie.

Without thinking, [y/n] quickly pushed the two girls away into a safe place. Making the two girls let out a surprised yelp.

The beam easily sliced through the hotel like a piece of cake. Caught off guard, [y/n] wasn't able to move her body into a proper flying position, rendering her wings useless. Making her fall, she screamed in surprise. Lucifer realizing that she's falling, his heart thumping in fear as he quickly swoops down, begging himself to reach her on time.

“[y/n]!” three people screamed in fear for her. She closed her eyes in fear, trying to calm herself down.

[Y/n] felt gentle yet strong arms catching her. She opened her eyes to see Lucifer looking down on her as he carried her princess style in his arms. He smiled at her, “I got ya.” he says with a charming smile, though [y/n] can tell he was scared for her based on his tone.

She smiled at him but she noticed something approaching behind Lucifer, realizing it was Adam who was approaching them in fury. [Y/n]'s eyes widened, her sclera turning red again.

“Lucifer look out!” [y/n] screamed in anger, her hand was able to catch Adam's punch, her now demonically long nails gripping into the first man's skin in anger.

Lucifer was caught off guard at [y/n]'s demonic form, this is the first time he's seen it and he assumed it just manifested. Despite her terrifying demonic appearance, he still found her very attractive.

He shakes off those thoughts, clearly not the proper time to have them. His own eyes turn red in anger from Adam. He then pulled Adam's arm and pulled the man in front of him and kicked him down to the cold hard cement.

He gently let go of [y/n] allowing her to fly by his side despite the absolute fury he was feeling. His more demonic side showing.

[Y/n] found him to be absolutely breathtaking. So this is the king of hell. She thought, her red sclera eyes admiring him. She didn't even notice that she too was in her demon form. Goat-like horns curled at the sides of her head, her teeth slightly now sharper, eyes now red, nails are now sharper. Her halo above her head is now dark red.

[Y/n] watched as Lucifer approached Adam, holding the man's collar as Lucifer began to punch him.

“You come at me and my family! Don't forget, you're in my house bitch!” he grins maniacally and was about to give him a finishing blow as he held his hands above his head, a ball of fire forming on his hands but Charlie stopped him.

“Woah, whoah, dad stop! He's had enough.” Charlie says and Lucifer was brought back to reality. Lucifer calmed down and walked away, “How does mercy taste like you little bitch?” he asked with a smirk, flying up the crater in which [y/n] helped him up by offering her hand in which he gladly accepted.

Both of them calming down, their demonic features slowly disappearing. “Are you okay?” [y/n] asked him softly and Lucifer shrugs with a small smile, finally taking in her new features—the curled up goat-like horns and dark red halo above her head. Beautiful as always.

“I'm fine, I love your horns.” He says with a small smile and [y/n]'s eyes widened, her hand immediately reaching up to her head to feel the new horns that grew. She looked at him with slight nervousness, “Does it make me look weird?” she asked and Lucifer shook his head, “Never. Horns or not, you looked beautiful as always.” he says with a charming smirk, making [y/n] blush, “Charming as always.” she says with a giggle but their attention was diverted to hear Adam groan in pain.

“No... You don't get to end this.” Adam growled in pain, weakly standing up from the rubble of where he crashed, “I'm fucking Adam! I'm the fucking man!” he yelled, turning to look at Lucifer and [y/n], “And you're just some fucking clown and you're just a bitch or something!” Lucifer's eyes sharpened when he heard what he called [y/n], “What did you call her?!” Lucifer sneered and he was about to give the angel a piece of his mind when [y/n] held out her arm to stop him and she shook her head at him.

“I started everything on earth! All of mankind came from these fucking nuts!” Adam exclaimed and [y/n] visibly looked disgusted at Adam as she listened to him talk.

“You all should be worshipping me! You ungrateful, disgusting, fucking, loser—aaah!” he screamed in pain and the others just looked at him in surprise to see something impaled the first man.

“Uhh... You got something stuck in your...” Lucifer hesitantly pointed at Adam's chest and [y/n] nodded, visibly concerned.

Adam passes out face first and it revealed that Niffty stabbed him.

“Niffty?!” [y/n] and Charlie exclaimed, Niffty just gave a maniacal grin as she began to continuously stab Adam, “YEAH STAB STAB STAB STAB!” the smaller girl giggles insanely before walking away.

“Noooo! Sirrr!” Lute screamed in horror, quickly approaching Adam and calling out to him.

Lucifer approached the two, clearly still mad, “It's over.” Charlie says standing beside her father, “Take your little friends AND GO HOME!” Lucifer growled, fuming before immediately smiling, “Please.” he added.

Lute glared at him, taking Adam's halo with her. “ALL EXORCISTS FALL BACK AND RETREAT!” She orders, flying up as a portal opened for the exorcists' to pass through.

The others watching the angels leave and also watch the portal closed.

Lucifer turns to look at them with a grin on his face, “So... How about some pancakes?” he asked and Niffty raised her hand excitedly. [Y/n] just chuckles and shakes her head, turning to look at the chaos and destruction the angels left. There's still so much to fix.

TAGLIST

@selvyyr @leo4242564 @blushhpeachh @lunanight1021 @dvc4 @nehy019 @lu-ferri12 @lilteamushroom @froggybich @eddiemunson4ever @who-let-me-write-this @gurutan27 @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @hcneyiced @valerie-36 @jovialcat123 @b0nn1e @raeinn @wally-darling-hyperfixation @faefanatic @trashbin-nie @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @hxzbinwrites @snoozewritezz @juskonutoh @mayhimouto513 @hcneyiced @koirb @viylikescats @ren-ren23 @kouyoumarryme @dou-dou @thatsquitepoggers @rosecatlady18 @avitute @rosecatlady18 @crescent-z

[enhafilthandfiction]

Enhypen kissing you during a argument!🥹

Enhypen Kissing you during an Argument

A/N : This is literally so sjsdksd 🤭🤭 Anywaysss, I hope you enjoy and I don't disappoint this anon :))

Pairing : Bf!Enha X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Arguments, some swearing, crack, kisses.

Word Count : 2,130 Words (About 300 words each)

Masterlist

» Lee Heeseung «

"I already told you Heeseung! You can't get mad at me, your girlfriend, for interrupting your stupid game!" you yelled, anger laced in your tone. He's been too obsessed with that game he's playing that you can't even talk to him or he'll scold you for 'distracting' him.

"It's not stupid and hey- It doesn't really matter okay?" he tries to defend his game but you won't stop until you've proved your point.

"No, it is in fact stupid, it even makes you stupid!" you let out, scoffing.

He sighs out and rolls his eyes "Look, why are we fighting over this damn game anyway? I won't scold you next time" he promises.

"I know for a damn fact you will Hees-" he cuts you off, gently placing his palms on your cheeks as he pulls you in for an apologetic kiss. He hates how this game is getting between you, and he knows he's to blame on the most part.

He pulls away, looking at your dumbfounded face before explaining "Look, I'm sorry, maybe I do get mad at you when you interrupt me, but from now on it won't happen anymore okay?" he declares.

You sigh and offer him a sheepish smile, not fully sold on his statement. "Yeah, we'll see how that goes" you say rolling your eyes.

"Pinky pwomiseee" he says in a sweet tone, holding out his larger pinky. You intertwine pinkies with him, staring him dead in the eye. "Scold me one more time and I'll erase you game" you threatened, watching as he physically gulps.

» Park Jay «

Jay was spending too much time in the dorms lately, and it was making you worried. The amount of time he was spending in there made you think he was cheating on you or something.

"Y/n, I promise you, I just had to take care of the members" he assures, trying to calm your worried state.

"Jay, you weren't even coming home these past days!" you point out, your voice coming out higher than intended. You were just worried. He places his palms on the counter to hold himself up as he sighs, watching you from behind the counter. "What do you want me to tell you Y/n?" he asks, not really knowing how to get out of this situation.

You look back at him, eyebrows still furrowed as you shrug, not knowing what you want from him yourself. You lift your eyes from the floor when you notice him making his way over to you, his eyes on yours.

When he's close enough, he leans down, pressing his lips onto yours. You realised that he didn't need to say anything, telling you everything through the kiss. His hands find your waist, lightly squeezing.

When he pulls away he offers you an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for spending too much time in the dorms. Thankyou for looking after me, but the boys really needed me this week" he explains, caressing your cheek.

Your expression softens as you slowly smile up at him, kissing his thumb, making him chuckle. "I'm sorry for yelling, Jay"

» Sim Jake «

"What the fuck was that about Jake?" you spat at him once you came back home. He looks at you with his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"What?" he asks, trying to think of what he did wrong.

"You literally didn't acknowledge me the whole time we were with your friends, you literally invited me to come along and then not even look at me the whole night!" your voice starts to get higher as you let out your frustration, referring to how he kept laughing with his friends and literally ignored you.

You felt like you were overreacting, or like you were needy for attention and with the way he remained silent, you thought he was judging you. As tears started brimming your eyes, he sat down next to you on the couch, sighing before wrapping his arms around you.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice baby, I was just too focused on what they were saying" he explains, knowing he messed up.

"What do you mean you were too focused on them?" you ask, trying to get away from his affection. Before you can yell at him more, he turns to his side, looking at you before capturing your lips with his, making you melt in his touch.

"I'm really sorry for being a dick, I swear I'll make it up to you" he promises when he pulls away, moving your hair out of your face and attempting to dry away your tears.

You avoid his gaze and look down at the floor, giving him the silent treatment. He rolls his eyes and chuckles, grabbing a hold of your hands and swinging them. "C'mon Y/n, will you let me show you how sorry I am?" he asks, flicking his eyebrows up and down.

Now you couldn't deny him anymore.

» Park Sunghoon «

"Hoon, you were literally flirting with her!" you let out your frustration the second you arrive home. He sighs for the millionth time.

"Y/n, I already told you, she's just my friend!"

"Yeah, just a friend that you're extra close to" you spit, rolling your eyes "I mean, c'mon, anyone who doesn't know you would've guessed you were dating!" you exaggerate a little, crossing your arms.

"Just because I bought her a drink and laughed along to her jokes doesn't mean she's my girlfriend" He chuckles in disbelief "I was just being kind!" he explains himself, waiting for your reply.

"Whatever, I'm sleeping on the couch tonight" you declare, heading to the living room.

"No you're not" he says in a softer tone, gently grasping your hand before you can get out of his reach. "You're sleeping in bed with me because you're my girlfriend. Not her"

You huff as he brings you closer to him, his face inching closer to yours, before he presses a soft kiss to your lips. You don't kiss back at first, making him smile at how stubborn you were.

"She was actually kind of annoying me to be honest" he admits, giggling. Seeing his eyes turn into lines and his dimples on display, you couldn't be mad at him anymore.

You get on your tiptoes and kiss him back. "You're a dick Hoonie" you say, this time wriggling out of his reach. "But I'll still sleep in your bed"

» Kim Sunoo «

"You've got to be kidding me" you whisper to yourself as you open your expensive body scrub which you bought just last week. It wasn't even smooth anymore, someone had dug their hands in it. Your boyfriend.

"Kim Sunoo!" you yell, your voice booming out into the corridor, reaching his ears. Shit, he messed up. He hesitantly makes his way over to you, taking cautious steps to the bathroom before peeking his head inside.

"Y/nnn" he begins, not sure what he did wrong.

"Did you use this?" you ask, shoving the little tub in his face. He gulps and admits that yes, he did.

"You used up like the whole thing!" you exaggerate, a frown visible on your face. As you continue to rant, he just tries to tell you that it's fie because he can buy you like a hundred more if you want. "It was so expensive too!" you cry out.

"Y/n," he begins, placing both palms on your cheeks before he leans in for a kiss, shutting you up. "I'll buy you a new one" he assures after pulling away.

You stare at him for a quick second, still not wanting to forgive him for using your product without even asking first and literally emptying it.

"Let's go today" he says, trying to make you smile, which you unwillingly do.

"Fine, let's go before I scrape that body scrub off your face"

» Yang Jungwon «

You wanted to curse Heeseung for starting Jungwon's obsession with legos. It's like everytime you two went to the mall he'd come home with a new lego set and start building it excitedly.

You'd always watch as he gets lost in the piece he's building, eyebrows furrowed in concentration of this complex piece he way building.

You were always very cautious around his legos, until you weren't. You were just walking around the kitchen counter before involuntary knocking over one of his pieces, watching as it shatters on the ground, lego pieces decorating the whole floor.

As soon as he heard the noise, you stop shocked in your tracks as he runs to the kitchen to see what happened. "Y/nnn" he whines out annoyed when he sees his newly built masterpiece on the ground.

"I'm so sorry Won, I didn't mean to" you try to explain, kneeling at the floor to pick up the little plastic pieces. He huffs out and gets on the floor too, helping you out.

"Maybe you should be more careful" he spits, rolling his eyes "Now I have to rebuilt this all from scratch" he huffs.

"Hey, it's not my fault it was right at the edge of the counter!" you try to defend yourself, having had enough of his bullsh already. "I'm sick of your stupid legos and your obsession with them!" you sigh out angrily, standing up and refusing to help.

He grabs your hand just in time, standing up too. "Oh, so I'm gonna have to pick up the mess you made?" he asks in sarcasm.

"It doesn't matter! They're just colourful blocks anyway!" you let out "You can always rebuild it" you try to reason, but he wasn't having it.

"Yeah, but I've already spent hours building it and now I'm gonna have to spend more time rebuilding it!" he explains back, trying to get his point across.

You sigh out at how blinded he was by these bricks but as you tried to walk away again, he wouldn't let you.

"Hey, I'm not gonna let legos make us fight" he says in a much softer tone, finally giving up his legos. "I prefer you way more than the legos anyway"

You finally listen to him, crossing your arms and watching as he comes closer to you. His eyes have softened as he sighs, brining his face to yours and placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

Your arms loosen up and by the time he pulls away, both of you are smiling. "I'm glad you don't pick the legos over me" you try to keep up the act, but fail a little. "Maybe I can help you rebuild it?" you ask hopefully, watching as his face brightens.

Even if it took another hour rebuilding it, Jungwon didn't mind, he spent more time with you and his beloved legos.

» Nishimura Riki «

You knew Riki was overworking himself in the studio, always trying to be perfect with his moves and never accepting mistakes. You scolded him so many times whenever he came home really late from the studio, but you only wanted what's best for him.

Today was another one of those days when he came back home way after dinner time. He sighed and rolled his eyes the second he stepped into your shared apartment.

There you were, arms crossed in your pj's, with a tired yet annoyed expression on your face. "Where have you been?" you asked already knowing the answer "Oh right, let me guess, at the studio"

He tries to ignore you, "I'm not in the mood to argue" he says under his breath, getting past you to go shower.

"No, but you promised you wouldn't stay in the studio late again!" you try to get your point across, not wanting this to happen again.

"Blah blah okayyy" he whines, completely ignoring your statement and getting his things for the shower.

"Riki!" you try to get his attention. He looks back at you and shouts back jokingly "Y/n!"

"You're literally ignoring me when I'm trying to care for your wellbeing" you reason, glaring at him. "I literally told yo-"

He shuts you up by pressing a quick kiss to your lips, making you melt under his touch as he places his hands on your hips. "I know and I'm sorry, I won't do it again okay? I appreciate you taking care of me but I'm really not in the mood for a scolding" he admits after pulling away.

You sigh and look up at his taller figure, nodding understandingly. "I know, I'm sorry Riki, I was just worried" you look down, feeling his hand beneath your chin. He lifts your chin up "Promise me you won't stay there late again?" you plead.

He smiles "Promise" he even steals a kiss too. "Don't sleep yet, I'll shower quickly" and he does, joining you in bed shortly, kissing you and cuddling you just to make it up to you.

Thankyou for reading! I hope it was good :) Have a good day/night and remember that ily! <333

[amxrany]

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

Damn we are eating a lot (Part 2):

During the battle, Baul is shooked on how Silver and Sebek are good at dealing with horses to which Sebek replies that they're part fo the equestrian club so it's a natural thing for them

Yuu and Grim were about to get attacked by an Iron Man but Lilia comes in to defend them. BUT THEN LILIA PROCEEDS TO SMACK SILVER AND SEBEK BEING ALL "This is why I hate children 😒" 😭😭😭

After the battle we reach the castle (which is the castle in the Sleeping Beauty movie) AND THEN WE SEE THE KNIGHT OF DAWN

Anyways going back to the topic, we also get Henric, who is pretty much going "Meleanor if you don't get out of that castle right now we'll invade the castle together with the Knight of Dawn" AND JESUS FUCK HIS SPRITE 💀

Yucks

It turns out the Knight of Dawn doesn't want any part of this either, cuz Henric wants Meleanor's magic orb and dragon egg (aka Malleus) since they're really precious things

Idk what's up with this chapter and their thing for turning characters into orphans cuz the Knight of Dawn is also an orphan adopted by the king 🧍‍♀️, and Henric tells him that if he can steal the orb maybe it could save the king and Leah

We then see Meleanor, WHO IS A FUCKING BADDIE SO DAMN REAL TWST YKNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR WOMEN 😍😍😍

WE ALSO SEE EGG MALLEUS AWWWW

Meleanor tells them that she was planning to take a nap with the egg but useless people interrupted that, and she refers to the egg as Malleus already 🥹. Lilia is just confused and asks how is she sure that the egg is a boy, in which Meleanor replies that a mother is always sure and knows that Malleus will grow up to be beautiful like his father, Leverne

But then she sees Sebek and Silver and makes them get down on their knees (MAAM I'LL ALSO GET DOWN ON MY KNEES FOR YOU 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️), she then goes on about how humans are weak and stuff. Lilia tries to defend them but Baul tells us about Meleanor's hatred for humans and that we might as well stay quiet

But then Lilia loses his shit as well and tries to tell Meleanor about the danger that's just waiting outside but Meleanor refuses, saying that she wants to fight because she's a mother who wants to protect egg Malleus (I swear I can't this update is making me cry 😭). So she tells everyone to escape with the egg while she fights the Knight of Dawn and we get this scene of Lilia holding on to egg Malleus

Meleanor tells them to leave but Lilia refuses. So out of anger, she zaps him which causes everyone to panic cuz he has the egg and Silver tries to stop it but Meleanor gets even more mad that she zaps him too like jesus this woman and her anger issues. Silver tries to plead with them to stop fighting because people who love each other don't fight

Meleanor replies that even if she doesn't make it, Malleus is still there. But Lilia tells her that Malleus can't hatch without the true love of a parent. BUT THEN WE GET THIS REVEAL THAT LILIA PROPOSED TO MELEANOR 200 YEARS AGO AND HE ALSO LOVED LEVERNE LIKE LILIA MELEANOR LEVERNE POLY RELATIONSHIP IS FUCKING REAL. Meleanor reassures Lilia that he will find a way to love Malleus since he also loved her and Leverne 🥹

She then summons thorns that drags Lilia and the rest away from the castle, saying her final goodbye to both Lilia and Malleus (I'm crying rn guys). Lilia tries to find a way back in to save Meleanor but Baul yells at him to calm down cuz he was still holding egg Malleus, and that Meleanor trusted them to protect the egg

Meleanor makes her appearance to the Knight of Dawn and Silver Owls, which starts another battle....

Next: Part 3

Previous: Part 1

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 act iii spoilers // criticism ⚠️

i kind of hated the end of arcane. hear me out.

i don't wanna rain on anyone's parade but we can all agree season 2's pacing was super breakneck. not a lot got explained or was given the proper time to develop or be addressed (at least in front of us, the audience, that is - but even then, some things could've been hinted at better) and this goes for both lore, motivations and interpersonal character relationships. (and i can give many examples such as the black rose, maddie's true motivations, caitlyn and vi's fight, jinx rallying up the undercity, viktor and ambessa's plans diverging, etc. but instead, i'll tell you what i think went wrong with what we got to see in the last three eps)

seeing where ep 7 left us made me think "okay ep 8 will start from the same exact spot and we'll see from there" and ofc my expectations were defied but that's not my main problem. i needed to know what happened to ekko, jayce and heimerdinger but even more than that, i wanted to see jinx grieve isha in her own way (by herself and not through being asked or guilt tripped to help someone else's agenda bcuz she clearly had little intrinsic motivation to unite the undercity over a common goal after silco's death) and internalize what she'd meant to isha - and that becoming jinx's catalyst to rally up the undercity. i wanted her to understand why this orphan from the undercity's mines sacrificed herself to save jinx - the symbol of a cause greater than her. i needed her to see what unifying zaun and making tangible institutional change to the undercity would mean in a way sevika never would've been able to show her. it would mean no more powders, no more ishas. not one more. breaking the cycle of violence, poverty, oppression, somewhat like what silco said in ep 9 (which she interpreted as 'you're the problem, so kys' and she attempted to until somehow ekko convinced her to help. how, why and did she even unite the undercity at all or just make her big hot air balloon late-to-the-party entrance with the firelights to a stray kids banger while sevika did all the work down in zaun?).

anyway, ep 8 threw us in for a loop in an alternative universe (and i loved it, don't get me wrong, but considering there were only 2 normal length eps left, it scared me just as much). instrumentally to the plot, we got to see ekko's main ability develop, and we saw jayce's reasons for shooting viktor. the main conflict of the show, the piltover/zaun one, if those 1,5 seasons so far were anything to go by, just got set aside for the time being. over halfway through the season, we've got a new big bad - the possibility of everyone getting possessed by the viktor/hexcore and becoming part of The Glorious Evolution™. it felt like a movie about racism and police brutality added aliens in the last 5 minutes to force oppressed and oppressors to (not all that successfully) work together, massive losses were suffered by everyone, and then the overarching motif wasn't about love or humanity or rebuilding (things that have come up repeatedly in other episodes, including the one ep literally called 'the messege hidden within the pattern'), it was "bad things happen sometimes, but good things happen sometimes too. it is what it is. i guess." like. duh?? as a viewer, this was quite the disappointing ending takeaway from such a masterpiece of a show but more on that in a second.

narratively, we saw a butterfly effect situation in ep 8 that answered the question of 'what could've been?' but even that answer confused me. the undercity was already oppressed and in socioeconomical peril before jayce's hextech - vi's death during that last job (which makes me believe zaun was the same in both universes because why else would they be poor enough to steal from piltover?) prevented it from being invented and thus stopping other things in piltover from happening but how did it lead to progress in the undercity? what happened and what was the key to it all along? why did shimmer not get invented, how did zaun and piltover seemingly unite, why were zaunites all of a sudden seemingly so much materially and culturally richer and better educated in just a few years? (that aside, i love ekko's determination to get back and save his universe's zaun. i loved the alternative jinx and i loved how everyone was wearing vests 10/10)

then, ep 9 felt like a bunch of confusing things happening one after the other to the point it almost overwhelmed me and i was left thinking i didn't understand a single thing from it (except maybe that one scene - that, i understood spiritually). and the first maybe 90% of ep 10 felt like i was just repeatedly getting hit, and again - no time to breathe, no consolation, no resolve, just receiving bad news after bad news, like getting beaten to the ground with stones.

and at the very end, after some of the ends get tied, caitlyn has her speech, which to me, sounds more depressing and hollow than anything else. she talks ambiguously of history and of ups and downs and of a story not yet over, but there's no promise for the future, no motivation to keep going, no bigger picture, no lesson learned. we're not shown much work being done either (and i'll make a separate post examining why it felt that way to me and a separate one abt how i interpreted her conversation w/ vi at the very end). i was left a bit confused, somewhat unsatisfied, and very, very sad.

did anyone else feel that way too? what did i miss, did i misinterpret or misunderstand something? please i'm going insane i had two different friends tell me they had no idea what i was talking about and that the ending was everything they wanted and more

[nikibogwater]

Everybody sit down and strap in, 'cause I have a doozy of a tale to share.

I've had anxiety for literally as long as I can remember. I've had periods of my life where it was so intense it became legitimately life-threatening (don't worry I promise this is going somewhere funny). And this was really bizarre because I have zero childhood trauma. Like, my family life is so idyllic it's almost comical. Therapists would do abuse screenings on me and look utterly baffled when I told them everything was fine at home. They'd interrogate my parents just to make sure I wasn't lying. I have one friend who I'm fairly sure believed I was just severely gaslighting myself when I said my family was great, school wasn't too stressful, and I've never lived in a dangerous neighborhood or experienced poverty.

Anyways, despite no one being able to figure out where my disorder was coming from, my doctors were able to help me manage the symptoms so that I would like, not die, and actually be able to finish high school. Which was awesome. Now fast forward to late 2021. My big sister (who has also had intense anxiety her whole life which no one could figure out why) is finishing up her doctorate and getting her physical therapist's license. Somehow, during all her studying and schooling, she finds out about this thing called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which explains literally everything that was going on with us. EDS is a connective tissue disorder that kinda fudges up your body in a whole bunch of little ways, including dysautonomia (episodes of very fast heart-rate that kick your body into fight-or-flight mode), and hypermobility (unusual flexibility). It's a spectrum disorder, so the severity of symptoms vary from person to person, but we definitely checked almost every box on the diagnostic list. My sister went to see a specialist, and yep, she was diagnosed EDS positive. She immediately calls my mom and goes "I know what's wrong with Niki" (thanks, sis, that's real encouraging lol). Initially we're like "okay Katie, that's nice" because honestly this kind of sounds like jumping at shadows, but I go in to see the specialist anyways just to make sure.

One consultation and diagnosis later, and suddenly my entire life makes perfect sense.

Now we get to the funny part. See, the diagnosis stuff happened in early 2022. So by the time late 2023 comes around and we're looking for a new dog (I promise this is relevant), we've been riding that chronic illness diagnosis for a while. Once again, my sister, ever the proactive one, decides she's going to help us get a new dog. She scours the adoption website, sends us photos of the cutest dogs available, and helps us make a decision. This is how we got Beverly, who has been an unstoppable force of chaos in our lives ever since we signed the papers (but she's also really cute so she can get away with it). Now on top of being a very excitable and anxious pupper, Beverly's got a weird little gimp in her hindquarters, which makes her sit all splayed-out and funny-looking, and while it doesn't seem to be causing her pain, we take her to a vet to get it checked out. Vet finds absolutely nothing. X-rays are taken and examined. Still nothing. At this point, they go "well, we could try a CT scan of her brain, which would run about $5,000, and maybe we could find something--" but my parents are already packing this dog into the car like "well that is a HARD nope." So we decide, look, Beverly seems happy and healthy, and those gimpy legs don't seem to bother her, so we'll just leave it be until it becomes clearer what's wrong with her because we do NOT have a cool $5,000 to throw around here.

Readers more astute than my family and I will likely have already figured out where this is going.

This morning, my mom is looking at Beverly sitting in her funny sprawled-out way, and something in her brain goes "wait...weird physical symptoms with no tracible cause that vets can see..." She does a bit of googling. Can dogs have EDS/Hypermobility? Yes. Yes they can. And the listed symptoms describe Beverly to a T.

So not only is my sister the one to finally figure out what's wrong with me, she also unknowingly got us a dog who has the exact same chronic condition as us. Meanwhile my poor dad, who is the only Normal Person in our house, is coming to terms with the fact that he is apparently just fated to always love chronically ill people and animals, and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.

[cripplecharacters]

I know we (disabled people) aren't a monolith and all that, we'll all have different opinions on what is and is not offensive, but I want to ask if you can explain your opinion on cosplaying a disabled character a little more, because I don't really understand how portraying a character accurately, disabilities included within reason, would be offensive. I could see the use of an aid that other people could be actually making use of being harmful, and I can see not treating the disability in a respectful manner by making a joke of them being harmful, but as far as the inclusion of scar to cosplay a canonically scarred character goes, I feel like excluding them seems more offensive to me, it feels like erasure of the character's disability. If for example someone cosplayed a character I made that I was using to portray my own disabilities, and the cosplayer didn't include those disabilities when they could do so, I'd find that really insulting and hurtful. I guess it feels like too nuanced of a topic for a blanket This Is Good or This Is Bad answer if that makes sense? Sorry if this comes across as antagonistic or hostile, I'm not trying to pick a fight, I just want to understand your perspective.

Hi, I'm fully aware that there is a lot of opinions going either way (from "literally everything is fine" to "abled people shouldn't cosplay disabled characters at all no matter what"). I did a longer reply about the same thing in this ask that maybe will explain some of it better. There are also opinions of other mods on this in our #cripping up tag.

I don't consider not including a character's disability in cosplay as erasure, since to me it's just dressing up as a character with your own body and all. I think everyone should be able to cosplay everyone regardless of what their "factory settings" are, just don't pretend to be a minority that you aren't a part of in your normal life. I see pretending to have a disability for "character accuracy" as more offensive, your canvas for cosplay is yourself and if you don't have that disability then you just don't and that's completely fine. For the sake of not being accidentally insensitive I won't be making comparisons to other kinds of "pretending to be a minority for cosplay", especially since most other examples would be much worse anyway. To me, this whole practice is just... unnecessary. Work with what you have the same way disabled cosplayers shouldn't cover their disabilities when cosplaying abled characters.

I see your example of a potential cosplayer not including the disability in a character that you have made. I make disabled characters too, a lot of them even (probably granted for a mod on this blog). Some of them share my disabilities. And I think that we just have fundamentally different opinions because I'd vastly prefer for someone without my disability to just omit it rather than pretend parts of their face don't move or aren't symmetric. It'd feel like mockery to me, I don't want anyone to pretend to have a facial difference for any reason. If someone tried to dress up as literally me, I'd have the same opinion - do the clothes and goatee, but leave my gait disorder and half-moving mouth out of this. Obviously these things are part of my identity to an extent, and they make me who I am, but pretending to have them to imitate me feels more akin to bullying than authenticity. To be clear I get why you have that opinion, I just feel completely differently about it. And I don't think either of us are wrong or not wrong, it's just a different view of the same thing.

At the end of the day though I don't really care about how people cosplay their blorbos if all they do is dress up and take some photos like most cosplayers do. I just answer questions when directly asked rather than go out of my way to talk about this since in comparison to a lot of other issues this doesn't have big enough of an impact on me to be too bothered by it (if I had to do a list of ableist things I'm annoyed by I can't imagine a world where cosplay would make the list). I'm guessing that most askers don't know any handy person with an FD they can ask that so they come here, and I try to be helpful to the best of my ability.

I think the smartest thing a person can do is read a few opinions of different people and make a decision for themself. There is no one convenient consensus to follow (that I know of?), so it is what it is. If there is a potential cosplayer who is reading this ask and thinks that the asker's opinion makes more sense to them, then that's what they should probably do. The only thing I insist on is that they have fun cosplaying (rather than stressing over what person on the internet is right) because otherwise what's the point...

What I do consider important personally is the original thing I brought up, which is how abled people use facial difference as a costume in order to scare or disgust others. That is insensitive, offensive, and always in poor taste, it spreads misinformation about visibly disabled people and creates a negative image about a whole group of people, a lot of whom dread this time of the year (as mentioned in the article). Talking about this is in my opinion way more important than any Comic Con cosplay of a fictional character will ever be or has ever been, which probably influences my opinion on cosplay. When I think "fake facial differences", I'm reminded of horror villains with make-up that tries and fails to imitate how visibly disabled people look like. I associate fake scars and fake burns and fake skull shapes with this problem strongly, and as you can guess I don't like it at all. I find the authenticity argument hard to believe for myself when what is usually originally portrayed is an abomination of VFX designed to make us look scary; for most of these characters there is nothing good coming out of their "FD representation" anyway. If Freddy Krueger magically started to be shown as abled I'd be glad, not mad that the character who genuinely horribly affected how people from my community are seen is no longer doing that. This might be a radical take, but most existing characters with facial differences literally shouldn't have them. The way they are portrayed shapes how people are seen for the worse and if I had a "disability erasure" button for all the Scars and Voldemorts out there I'd make them as abled as possible.

Is this how all people with facial differences feel? I don't think I can go and ask each of them but definitely no, it's just the opinion of A Guy on the Internet (many such cases!) and rather than anything else I just want to share my view on stuff, so askers can hopefully make a more informed decision - whether that's writing, drawing, cosplay, etc. If someone reads my take and decides that they want to do the opposite, at least they have a bit of context on how some people might feel about it, and I think that's still valuable.

This is my opinion on this and I hope this clears it up more,

mod Sasza

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that Farah and Alex don't know what happened in Las Almas and the 141.

Alex said, "Heard you died in a tank in South America."

-> He heard. He doesn't know the whole story about how he died or who supposedly killed him. It didn't even cross his mind that Graves personally knows the TF141.

"South America", Las Almas is in North America. That means what Alex heard is indeed just a rumor. He doesn't know how, who killed him, what happened, or anything. He and Farah don't know any specifics at all. Nada. It's possible that Farah had only just known Graves when he entered that room.

Now here's the kick : Look at Graves' and the Shadow's face + body language beside him as soon as Alex said it :

They were alert. The shadow behind Graves looks like he's ready to aim his weapon.

Graves then quickly settle it down by saying "Well I'm not in it." (As soon as Graves took control of the situation, the shadow behind him eased up a lil')

Then Graves asked :

THAT is Graves' way of finding out how far Alex knew about his death, or possibly what he did. At the same time, he's determining his attitude/approach towards them based on the answers that would be given.

Had they known that Graves massacred a whole town to find Ghost and Soap, that would for sure change his attitude towards Graves. There's no way in hell that they'd act so casual like in the cutscene if they know.

-> If Alex had shown any hostility or any sentence that implied anything about the Las Almas massacre, Farah would 1000% turn hostile and change her view towards the Shadow Company, and Graves might proceed with a different, possibly more violent approach, and the alliance would go poof with guns blazing. (Because come on. Farah's country was basically massacred by Barkov, same as what Graves did in Las Almas)

LUCKILY THOUGH, things went according to Graves' way. Farah cut the conversation short, saying that they have their own battles and have no time for rumors. The scenario went on, Farah and Alex continued to be oblivious about Graves' grave crimes (hah).

TF141 didn't have any convo about Shadow Co. at all to Farah and Alex. I mean, they were busy with their own businesses, the people that was hunted by Graves (Ghost and Soap) was not as closely connected with Faralex compared to Price and Kyle, plus as far as they know, Graves was a case closed. (They had no reason to converse about Graves anyway during the Atomgrad Raid)

(If Price and Kyle was the one hunted down in Las Almas, the story might go differently 👀)

With SC fighting Makarov's Konni Group, SC would for SURE appear in MWIII no doubt. Now Graves need to make sure that Faralex NEVER know about the Las Almas incident.

We'll see how it goes~

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

OK RUIN DLC AVAILABLE!! Can I make a request then? How do Ruin glam.freddy, Ruin glam.chica, Ruin Monty, and Ruin Roxy react to an overwhelmed reader? Too much is happening to Child Reader and he ends up crying or bursting with rage. How would they react to the reader? (sorry for my english 😅)

Oh don't worry! Your english is good! (for this, we'll just say reader takes Cassie's place)

.........

Prototype/Ruined Freddy

All you wanted to do was find your friend, and you thought you'd find an ally in your quest when you discovered Freddy in the decrepit Fazer Blaster room.

But something was very wrong as he emerged from the wreckage, joints clicking and parts shuffling before he finally turns to screech at you with great hostility.

Not with his mouth, as he lacked a head, but with his birthday cake hatch that acted like a gaping monstrous maw.

He hunted you down like a wild animal, chasing you until you managed to reach the next inhibitor-

Only for Freddy to be there first, cornering you at last and almost daring you to come closer.

But you were so terrified, so stressed that...you just hid somewhere and cried, not caring what happens to you anymore. "I-I'm sorry, Gregory..I can't do this. I'm too scared and I don't know where I'm going!!"

It's in that moment where Freddy briefly snaps out of the M.X.E.S programming controlling him.

He may have been a prototype, but he did have similar directives to his successor--that being to ensure the safety and happiness of all children who visited. That was his priority.

He follows your cries, and instead of attacking, he offers you the green present in his chest to cheer you up.

You worried it was some trick, but you take it anyways, finding a scratched-up Freddy magnet inside, barely recognizable aside from the shape.

Relieved, you smile and pocket the gift, wiping away your tears. "Th-Thanks, Freddy.."

He stands back up, only for the M.X.E.S to take ahold of him again.

While he's fighting back against it, you duck under him and turn off the inhibitor before making your escape, not looking back once even as he storms after you.

At least you knew he wasn't doing this on purpose.

Ruined Chica

If you weren't already overwhelmed enough by everything happening within the ruined mall...Chica's shattered voicebox was the icing on top.

The noises hurt your ears so, so much..and suddenly you became terrified of every creaking or grating metal sound, always thinking it's her.

Staying on your toes was important, of course, though it was getting to be too much for you to bear.

When she's hunting you down in one of the kitchens, you're so stressed that you end up hiding and covering your ears, trying not to cry as the noises continued.

Before they...abruptly stopped, as she's now aware that her voice simply wasn't going to come back.

But in that moment, she heard your sniffle and immediately found your hiding spot.

You think you're doomed until she sees you covering your ears still, and despite her eyes being out of sorts..

They looked quite guilty.

The M.X.E.S has no control over her at the moment, so she spares you and leaves.

At some point later on you find her original voice box, seeking her out and repairing her to the best of your ability.

"I smell pizza!!" She trills, before the reality sets in that she has her voice back at last!

And it's a brief moment of happiness for her before she shuts down, seeing you by her side as her vision goes dark.

While doing this didn't make you any less stressed about your search for your friend...you felt better knowing you helped her.

Ruined Roxy

She wasn't targeting you because of the M.X.E.S, but rather because she assumed you were Gregory, threatening to tear out your eyes and make them hers.

However she decided to stalk you at a very bad time, as you began shouting and throwing stuff at her after getting so fed-up with coming to dead ends and Helpi's irritating voice.

The first thing was a plushie, which isn't super effective in hurting her, but the sudden impact startled her nevertheless.

Then you began pelting whatever you could find on the ground. Soda cans, crumbled papers, etc. even as she apologized over and over, shielding herself.

"K-Kid, I'm sorry..!!"

"I'm not afraid you anymore!! LEAVE ME ALONE, FREAK!!"

Suddenly, she freezes up, sniffling before she touches her face self-consciously.

"Th-That's right..I'm...I-I'm a freak...I'm a hideous freak!!" She wails, ultimately collapsing to the ground crying.

You stop, realizing the (emotional) damage you've done and....feeling guilty when you see her sobbing.

You honestly thought she was mindless like all the others...and yet..part of her old personality remained, notably the "insecure" part of it.

Keeping the mask clipped to your side (as you didn't wanna see her through some green hologram), you approach and kneel down, awkwardly trying to comfort her.

"Roxy? I-I...I didn't mean to call you that. I'm sorry." You frown. "You're not a freak, you're still..um...p-pretty. I..I've just been angry and I took it out on you...because you keep thinking I'm Gregory."

She's surprised to hear that you aren't actually him, but is still hurt by the insult.

You stay with her for a bit, reminding her of the mantras she used to tell herself back then, and she begins to repeat them with a smile on her face.

"Your tail is beautiful, your hair is beautiful..and everyone loves you."

"My tail...is beautiful. My hair is..beautiful...and everyone loves me.."

"Yeah, that's good!"

Ruined Monty

He used to be the coolest character to you.

But now? He was nothing like his former self. Just a mindless beast crawling around and trying to bite your legs off.

It was sad, in a way.

Yet you've been attacked by him nonstop ever since you got that stupid mask.

He didn't just scare you, though.

If anything...you got angry right back at him, shouting at him to go away and/or throwing whatever you could to keep him off your back.

Somehow he keep finding you. It's like he had some personal vendetta against you and was powered by rage alone.

In Gator Golf, you found a golf club that wasn't broken, deciding to keep it with you should you ever need to defend yourself.

He was an alligator, yet it somehow shocked you when you're trying to reach the next conduit to unlock a door....and discover that he can swim.

You were stuck traversing boxes like you were playing "the floor is lava"...except the lava is Monty, of course.

When you finally unlock the door, he roars and makes a desperate grab for your leg, and would have succeeded in dragging you into the electrified water...

Had you not used the club to break his hand and chip some of his teeth.

It seemed to bring him genuine pain....but you didn't care.

"Sorry, Monty...BUT I'M NOT YOUR DINNER!!!" You shout as you knock him back into the water, watching him fry.

Part of you felt guilty for doing that once you calmed down and got to safely, but what else could you do?

He was too far gone to help. You had to put him out of his misery.