#fanfic wishlist

[toxintouch]

TOUCHSTARVED WISH LIST:

Leander kills one of his Bloodhounds for you.

One of Leander’s Bloodhounds is affected by your (the MC's) curse, and Leander has to kill them to protect you. He is strangely unaffected by this. All of his attention is on you and your wellbeing. He’ll give you an emotional reaction to his Bloodhound’s death if prompted - if he thinks you need to see that from him. But, at least while it's just the two of you, he seems much more invested in reassuring you:

It wasn't your fault.

Bonus points:

Leander purposely exposes one of his Bloodhounds to your curse… Not to exploit the power of your curse like others have, but to save you.

Maybe one day, Lowtown floods. You scramble to save yourself, find yourself hanging precariously onto higher ground, clinging desperately to the awning of a building as the torrent of water rushing below you threatens to wash you away with the tide.

The Bloodhounds respond immediately, working to save those they can. Leander finds you quickly–too quickly to be coincidence?–

You can see that Leander's face is set in determination, so different from the blushing man who holds your hands and whispers sweet words to you. You hear him calling out to the Bloodhound group closest to you, instructing one of them in particular to help you up.

Leander has seen that your safeguards (bandages, etc.) have been thrown into disarray, the bite of the stone building having ripped through any fabric previously covering your hands.

The Bloodhound, too, sees your cursed flesh. They can extrapolate that touching your hand will be as good as a death sentence, but still…

The Bloodhound doesn't even hesitate.

– (You do, though. You try and dodge the hand reaching out for you without losing your hold completely, but regardless of your struggle you find yourself hoisted up, a strong grip wrapped firmly around you, the Bloodhound's own hands tensing, gripping you tighter and tighter and tighter as you barely manage to get your knees under you, find the solid ground now below you, prepare to) –

Leander doesn't hesitate either.

Does not even wait to verify your curse has taken effect.

The magic he uses is swift, death instantaneous. The Bloodhound's dead body drops before you, a macabre tribute, a morbid testimony of Leander's affection.

[shaylogic]

SIR I NEED to know the story behind this!

When and how did you learn this? With WHOM?

I know comic Charles gets a crush on like every girl he and Edwin meet, so I imagine early in their cases, Charles experimented with flings with people and figured it out?

Honestly need a flashback in an ep of season 2 where Charles goes on his first Ghost/Human Date

Bonus points if it was with a guy!!

[the-femslash-wishlist]

Ever wished your fave femslash fic would be made into a movie or a series?

What if there were so many of us wishing for the same thing?

What if we formed an online community where we could share the plot of our fave femslash fics and upvote the ones we really liked?

What if the community became huge, with a multitude of members, enticing filmmakers (from film students to pros) to adapt the fics (or chapters or sequences or scenes of fics) into (short) films because there was a built-in audience for them?

What if the website was called the femslash wishlist?

*membership fees would give you exclusive access to discussions with filmmakers or exclusive content like bts footage or deleted scenes

Click on this link for Frequently Asked Questions.

This is for a postgraduate Entrepreneurship class assignment. Please reblog so that it would reach more femslash fic or f/f fic readers and writers. It would greatly help the assignment, which could change from being fictional to real if there was enough interest.

Thanks so much for participating!

[vspin]

I wish we had just a couple of race-specific lines for the romances from the love interests. Kinda like how Lae'Zel has the straight-up hots for Dragonborn MCs and makes a comment.

Just one line here or there:

LI's addressing MC's who come from "despised" races like a Githyanki, Half-Orc, Drow, and Tieflings. Like in a loving/protective way.

Cute comment about short races' height (lol)

Wyll talking to Tiefling Tav about horns and the "bumps" in places

Poking fun at some of the longer-lived races if there is an age difference

I could make a whole post on the Drow, but at least for Shadowheart, Halsin, and Astarion there should have been a quick 1-2 lines about a Drow MC. Elf/Drow pairing is kinda taboo.

Astarion and Underdark races. Spawn Astarion may never see the sun again but there are full cities down there where he can thrive.

What other ideas? Idk much about Dwarves, Gnomes, and Halflings lol

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

The Marcusgate

It all started on a lazy Sunday, which was now Carmy's favorite day of the week, and with Syd and Carmy binge-watching Netflix's Blue Ribbon Baking Championship and remembering that Sandra Lee was a regular Bear's customer whenever she was in Chicago, so they pinged Richie to get her number and congratulate her for the show that Sydney was crazy about.

Syd maniacally took notes on all the recipes on the show and came up with variations of each that she planned to run by Marcus the next day. She was overjoyed when one of the bakers used lemon-macerated Concord grapes in his cake, and that excitement was quickly replaced by disappointment when that same baker was the first to leave the competition. And when she saw Sandra Lee in tears over a cheesecake, she knew she had to ask Marcus to add that cheesecake recipe to The Bear's menu as soon as possible, so she asked Carmy to contact Sandra and try to get all the intel.

In time, this led to all four of them starting a Blue Ribbon group chat that included Syd, Carmy, Sandra, and Marcus. They exchanged recipes and talked specifically about logistics to ensure plagiarism wasn't one of the ingredients when Marcus made The Bear's version of those desserts. Not only to avoid any potential legal complications that could affect the restaurant's or Marcus' reputation, but also because both Syd and Carmy knew that plagiarism was the fetish of those who can't, the lowest of crimes that only mediocre criminals commit, and they were way above that, as naturally so was Marcus. They also greeted each other on their respective birthdays and, of course, invited each other to dinner whenever that could be arranged.

One day, over one of those dinners that took place at Casa Sydcarmy, on a Sunday night when Sandra happened to be in town, she pitched an idea to the Michelin Star award-winning chefs: "What do you guys think of joining me as Executive Producers on my next project: Cordon Blue Ribbon?"

"Cordon Blue Ribbon?" Marcus was intrigued.

"You mean the Cordon Bleu version of your show?" Syd quipped.

"Exactly, and only Michelin Star award winner pastry chefs could compete on it and the prize would be a million dollars, instead of just $100K." Sandra's eyes met Marcus and stayed laser-focused on him.

Carmy was still silent and in disbelief when he looked at Marcus with a mix of curiosity and shock on his face, to know what he had to say to that.

"Sounds interesting..." Marcus added as he popped a mini cinnamon churro in his mouth, courtesy of Sandra who knew better than to show up empty-handed to a dinner party thrown by 2 Michelin Star award chefs.

"That's what I told my manager! When she came up with the idea, I was super interested right off the bat. You'll see, I have a 3-year contract with Netflix, and making another Pie Blue Ribbon cooking show wasn't going to cut it. It was more of the same, and innovation is a must in television if you want to stay relevant."

"You should know... having an Emmy under your belt, right?" Syd fangirl had entered the chat.

Sandra laughed and graciously accepted the compliment, meanwhile, Carmy had no idea what the ladies were talking about because he had never watched one of her shows before Syd came into his life, let alone a daytime Emmy award show.

Sandra went on and kept focusing on Marcus.

"So we decided to bring in more award-winning chefs and raise the stakes for this next project. That was the only way we could get the million-dollar prize approved. So... what do you think Marcus? Would you be on board? Would you be interested in competing for a million dollars?"

Marcus looked at Syd and Carmy, like asking for their greenlight and they both smiled and silently agreed.

So it was settled and when the show happened, he was going to be there, front and center. Sandra assured him.

Fast forward 6 months and the pre-production of the contest was being kick-started in Los Angeles.

Syd and Carmy declined the offer Sandra made them to be Associate Executive producers of the show so that Marcus could be a participant and no conflict of interests compromised him. Marcus, in exchange, offered them a cut of the prize if he won and Syd and Carmy agreed to only take credit on social media about being his sponsors and mentors but vehemently declined every penny he offered.

"You owe us nothing, Marcus, this is all you," Syd said.

"What are you talking about? Carmy believed in me when all I knew how to barely make were buns and you pushed me to be better, Sydney, to push myself. I wouldn't have gone to Copenhagen if it weren't for you, guys..."

"But because of your amazing work we also got a Michelin Star, Marcus. That star was a team effort, you're one of us. That's more than enough payback if you ask me." Carmy clarified with a: "Period" tone.

Marcus heard the subtext and was quick to be on the same page "Heard, chef."

Shortly after Marcus was wowing the judges with his creations, all 100% by Marcus Brooks. He took no inspo from the recipes he got from the chat he shared with Sandra, Syd, and Carmy. His only inspiration came from his loved ones, his affections, and people that he had met along the way and that had had a true impact on his life. Including Luca and Michael.

Marcus slayed the competition one killer dessert at a time.

There were 9 rounds and the grand finale. The level of complexity was evergrowing.

Marcus was a serene force of nature on that set.

He bagged the first round with a peach pie served in a sundae dish with a scoop of lemon buttermilk gelato at the base topped with balsamic caramel sauce and a half-moon shaped, fresh peach hand pie. The hand pie was hot, just out of the oven so the contrast between that and the ice cream was what really got the judges. They were amazed by Marcus' talent, from day one and knew he was final-round material from the get-go. There was no doubt about it in their minds because he was not only incredibly skilled but also calm and focused. He didn't falter under pressure.

The second round was also in Marcus' pocket when he served a petite croissant over a brass cooling rack dotted with Pearl sugar and honey filled with a gooey Délice de Bourgogne cheese and finished at the table with black truffle, inspired by Chicago's Kasama. The judges' feedback was amazing. They said it was exquisitely clever to use this as a cheese course. "The technique and execution were exemplary," they assured.

Then it was the turn of the most luxurious and rarest ingredient of them all: Criollo.

For those viewers at home who may have not been too familiar with this ingredient, Sandra gave a brief presentation:

"Criollo is a very rare and precious variety of cacao that was at risk of extinction for many years. It is the cacao of the Mayas and the Aztecs, the cultivation of which has been progressively abandoned owing to its low yield. It is a delicate cacao and makes up just 0.01% of global cacao production. Tonight, our chefs will use it as the primary ingredient to bring us the Wow factor we are looking for and that will earn them immunity in the next round. Let the Criollo games begin!"

With that, Sandra dismissed the participants and allowed them to go to their stations to start working their magic. They only had 50 minutes to make it happen and make it count.

Marcus decided to go with something a little bit different. He crafted his chocolate pyramid with a creamy ball of guava sorbet and a tasty coconut foam. He also crowned it with a thin sugar collar sprinkled with sesame seeds, flecks of red chili, and a little black garlic, providing complementary flavors and a subtle warmth too.

Immunity was his bitch.

For the next round, seeing as he was untouchable he decided to go rogue, he had the liberty to make whatever he wanted so he decided to make what he called: "Dreaming of Lod Chong". The judges were blown away when he served his creation in a small bowl that displayed this square of pandan parfait in a sauce of salted coconut cream. Marcus added specially treated crushed ice as a final flourish, too. Those little ice pieces looked exactly like diamonds. It was an unexpected success, expertly balancing sweet and salty notes. "The ice also added great texture. It was a solid finish.” That was what the judges had to say about it. Again, Marcus blew them away.

He kept advancing to the next rounds till he got to the semi-finals and the judges put the chefs through the wringer like never before.

The assignment was to make the outside of the dessert look like the main ingredient on the inside. The goal was not to sacrifice flavor to achieve uncanny and realistic resemblance, plus never losing sight of creativity and originality.

Most contestants failed the test because they presented obvious desserts that anyone could find in any respected bakery.

But Marcus, Marcus Brooks told a different sweet story with his dessert. And it wasn't even that sweet. It was acid and sweet and perfect.

Mojito Pie.

This was a memorable pie, the judges said. It had a buttery graham cracker crust topped by a very light lime and mint mousse that was dusted in lime powder to resemble an actual lime. This was served with a lime sorbet and spritzed with rum.

"It was adorable to look at and even better to eat," Sandra concluded.

That pie granted him a spot in the final.

Marcus was tense for the first time ever in the competition. He hadn't been that nervous in a long time. It was unlike him to be so high-strung.

Two days later, when the final episode of the show was being shot, Syd and Carmy surprised Marcus and showed up at the studio, along with Chester, for emotional support. The Bear was closed, Marcus was that important to them. The only other time when the restaurant was closed was on the occasion of Ever's funeral service.

Now it was Marcus' turn to be blown away. He was over the moon. And Carmy tried to give him some sort of pep talk but all he managed to say was: "You're already a winner, Marcus, just don't fuck it up and you'll be fine."

Syd dramatically rolled her eyes at Carmy's words and added: "Marcus, don't think about the prize ahead, think about what you've accomplished so far. You got this. And we got you."

Marcus smiled at her kind words and then the little moment Syd and him were having was interrupted by Chester's heavy palm on his back that sounded like a slap but was meant to be supportive and encouraging.

"My man! The million-dollar chef!"

"Not yet, Chester. Not yet!"

"What are you talking about?! That big fat check is yours, Marcus. What show have you been watching? They freaking love you, man. This finale is just paperwork, go get 'em!"

Marcus couldn't help but snort and nod. "Will do, Chest, will do, thanks, man!"

So, when the judges announced it was showtime, Marcus' entire life as a baker flashed before his eyes.

The final assignment was a triple one: They had to come up with a 3 step-sweet menu inspired by their past, present, and future as pastry chefs. And there was a catch: The future had to be a sweet version of a savory dish and look on the outside like its original savory version. They only had 3 hours to complete all 3.

Marcus knew he could pull a trifecta off, but he was afraid that pulling it in only 3 hours was pushing his boundaries as a baker a bit too far.

He went for it anyway.

For the past version of himself as a pastry chef, he decided to make "The Sydney's Donut", which was nothing but a Copenhagen-inspired and elevated version of the donut that Carmy had destroyed like a little bitch. That one was easy but he elevated it by presenting it on an edible marshmallow carved bowl.

Marcus' present at The Bear after winning a Michelin star was far more fancy, so he served the judges a "Turkish Delight, Almond, Manjari, Chocolate, and Rose." This chocolate bar hid a light, creamy chocolate center with a lovely layer of almond panna cotta. Arranged on top were Turkish delights, almonds, crystallized rose petals, and a quenelle of silky smooth almond ice cream. This dessert was currently part of The Bear's menu and it was the most popular choice among its customers with a sophisticated sweet tooth.

For the future, Marcus took inspiration from Syd and Carmy as a whole, and their collective impact on his life. Their love inspired him and so did the invisible string that seemed to connect them long before they met. When Marcus heard the whole story about Sydney's favorite meal and saw the pictures she had taken, he was deeply moved by it because it looked like Carmy had literally put his heart on the plate for her and it was exactly the kind of story that his mom used to love and cherish. So in honor of Syd and Carmy's love story and of his late mom, to whom he was going to dedicate the victory if he took the prize home, Marcus decided to make a fake heart-shaped Paupiette of hamachi with blood orange sauce. For the Paupiette of hamachi, he used molded white chocolate that he wrapped in a fine vanilla crepe and carefully colored with some cinnamon powder for it to look precisely like the original fish. The blood orange sauce was based on its original recipe minus the garlic and the chili flakes and he elegantly topped all that with a thin sweet potato chip sprinkled with sweet chili flakes to replicate the exact aesthetic of the fateful dish that proved to be Sydney's favorite.

The alchemic reaction was epic when the judges tasted that masterpiece. There was no more contest and the other two chefs knew it even before the unanimous verdict was announced.

All 3 of Marcus' works were mindblowing but the Paupiette of hamachi with blood orange sauce was not only flawless, but its appearance was exactly the same as Carmy's dish. There was no way to tell them apart.

To wrap up the award ceremony and his acceptance speech Marcus was asked to say a few words about each dessert on his menu and go over the reason behind each choice. When the time came to explain why he had chosen to make his own version of Paupiette of hamachi with orange sauce he said that Sydney, his mentor, and friend, had confided in him a long time ago that the best meal she had ever had was that dish, by Carmen Berzatto, back in NYC when he was the best CDC in the world and they hadn't even met yet. Marcus went on to mention that Carmy, or "Bear," as he called him, was also his friend and mentor and that without them, he probably wouldn't be there. And that he was forever thankful to both.

Carmy was saucer-eyed, he had no idea that he had made the best meal she had ever had. A dish he instinctively made for her, breaking all the rules and defying his boss' direct orders.

Syd looked at Carmy with that intense yet sweet but never condescending look she reserved for him only and took his hand as she smiled at him and tightened her grip.

Carmy smiled back and then re-directed his attention to Marcus when he elaborated on the background story of his winning dessert when Sandra said: "Wow! That is unbelievable and disarmingly sweet! You're telling me he made the best meal she ever had before they met and now they are husband and wife?!"

"Yes." Marcus smiled and looked at them.

Sandra was beside herself and declared: "That's the most romantic story I ever heard! Did Sydney just tell you one day: 'Oh by the way, Paupiette of Hamachi with blood red orange sauce is my favest and Carmy made it for me before we met in New York when he was the best CDC in the world?' Just like that? Is that a story she just tells everybody to, I don't know, break the ice?"

Marcus was finally loosening up and laughing out loud and he casually said: "No, no, we were having dinner at her place and..."

Carmy didn't hear what Marcus said next, he just looked at Syd as if he had just been shot and was bleeding to death right before her eyes and went: "WAIT, WHAT?!!?"

A/N: This fic was inspired by that Netflix baking show that I just binged entirely in 2 days over the weekend and Marcus' recipes come straight from the Michelin Guide because I can't even make French toast... My meta on the dish is embedded in the first mention of it.

Enjoy! 💋

[hyunjinx42]

fuck a heart, I wanna get lost in someone’s soul

in a soul, not a heart

the heart is an organ

the soul is where our dreams, desires and hopes truly stem from

I believe your soul is your truest form

it’s fucked up

it’s unique

it’s human

I wanna get lost in someone’s soul

I wanna see every side of them and accept them

And if they let me see their soul

I wanna call it the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen

I wanna love someone’s soul

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

behold! my 3am thoughts!

[lilliankoo]

i wanna bite his back so bad its not even a joke rn like i just wanna take a big bite and just hold it there for good minutes. there is not a single workout where he needa remove his shirt & all that 👩🏻‍🦲

MEN AND THEIR $LUTTY WAISTS 😒😒😒😒

[laceratedlamiaceae]

actually I want Jim and Oluwande to get matelotaged first and make Lucius, Pete, Ed, and Stede jealous. I imagine Lucius acting supportive while passive-aggressively trying to get Pete to propose while Pete is completely oblivious and waiting for Lucius to do the same. And then Ed and Stede are actively trying to sabotage the wedding because it, like everything else, is supposed to be about the two of them, damn it!

[dollypopup]

Colin Bridgerton learns early in his life not to be too loud. Too open. Learns not to give all of himself to anything, putting on a perpetual pretense. To be cheerful. Charming. Agreeable. It makes him feel useful. It makes him feel in control.

His papa dies when he is twelve. Colin is still shorter than Daphne. She laughs at him when they play games together because she can reach the taller branches on the tree. He skinned his knee last week trying to run after the family dog, Tippet, or Tippy, as he liked to call her, when she ran off with Frannie's doll. His papa dies when he is 12 and as it happened, all he could think was that Papa would get back up, soon, as he watches him laying there among the flowers, Mum in shambles and the whole family on the steps. Colin learns. He learns no one has the space for his grief in light of their own, and Anthony is the new head of the family, and Benedict is trying to take care of the siblings, and what good is Colin?

Colin can't do anything. Colin can't do anything but try to make it lighter, better, easier. Try to be useful any way he can.

So, he comes to his mum, cradled away in her dark room, the curtains perpetually closed, pale and wane and laying on the bed, always, her palms feeling at the linen on the left side that she refuses to have changed. Because he thinks he can be useful. He thinks he can be good. Make her smile. And he loves her. And he misses her. In confinement, several months pregnant, when she lays on her side, she still cannot adjust to the feeling of a flat bedspread, back perpetually turned to the door. She doesn't want to see anyone. Almost can't even bear to. But Colin sneaks in. Colin sneaks in with biscuits he foists from the kitchens, and paper flowers (like the kind she taught him to make for all those birthday hats, fingers quick and nimble, some of the only time he is ever allowed to favor his left), and flowers he picks from the gardens of Aubrey Hall. He sneaks in, calling a hesitant

Mum?

into the dust, and maybe it's only because he will be gone, soon, off to Eton, that she tolerates it. The time he has left with mum is short so yes, Colin comes into the mausoleum. As often as he can. As often as he is capable of. And he tries to make mum happy. But he can't. He can't make it better for her. He brings her treats and he holds her hand and he tends the tomb. Changes out the funeral flowers when they rot, the way the maids are never allowed to, tucks mama into bed as she blinks glassy, swallows, then turns away.

In his boyhood, he has one final, awful cry with her. The last sobs of his childhood to his mum. Comes in to try to cheer her up again, to bring levity, but today is a bad day, he feels it near instantly. There are always bad days. They aren't always, but there always will be. Mum's voice rings out, soft and disbelieving

he's gone

he's gone

he's gone

over and over as Colin eventually realizes all he can do is hug her. hug her and listen as she cries

he'll never see you grow up

my darling

my boy

he'll never see you get married

never see who you'll become

wringing dry. and Colin has never felt more tiny. He can't hold all that emotional overflow even though he tries. He hugs her and he tries. Tries not to let it get to his heart, all that she's saying. Tries to hold her together. Tries to make it better. If not better, painless. If not painless, not alone. But he just lost his father. and he's small, and he's scared and he'll be leaving, soon, everything familiar to him, all his family. Eton, so, so soon.

Last week, all he wanted was for dad to finally take him out on a hunt, like he did with Anthony and Benedict. Every time it was a

One day, when you're older.

There would never be a one day. Last week, he was betting dad on how many ducklings would hatch from the nest, eager to win from him extra candies, which dad would always give him, anyway. Somehow, the sugar was always the more sweet when he won it from Papa. Never again. Papa won't ever see the man he'd become, and he didn't even know what that would look like. He tries to keep it in, he does, but he breaks at each whisper Mum can't help but spill, trying to assure her until his voice goes crackly and thick and his snuffles snot at the shoulder of her dirty housecoat when he wipes his face and then

he's wailing. Just a boy crying to his mum because he needs her, but it only makes Violet feel worse, cry worse, hurt worse, because she can't be needed. Not now. Can't provide him any comfort, and Colin knows. he feels it. after that moment, he knows. he knows it's agony for his mum to see him upset and he knows she can't help him. he knows she can't handle it and he knows he feels awful asking her to. so, when he leaves the room, completely wiped out, he promises himself he'll never put her through it again. and he sticks to it. because Colin's already lost his dad, he just can't bear to lose what he has left of his mum, too.

So, Colin learns to be cheerful. Is cheerful, up until the day he goes, off to learn about Greek Mythology and Abstract Mathematics, studying philosophy and religion and boxing and learning how to be a man from strangers.

but of course it aches. Colin cries alone. Curled fetal in bed in the secrecy behind a locked door. No one wants his sorrow. Or his anger. He's scrappy as a boy, angry at Eton. His father didn't go here. Nor his brothers, off at Oxford. A distinguished school for distinguished men, men of titles, men of power. For Colin, for a third son, Eton was beyond agreeable, beyond generous of his father to have set the funds aside for. And Colin appreciated Eton, yes, but it was also where he learns to lock his fury behind his sternum and even when it claws to be free, he shoves it down until he can wrap his wrists for a spar. Colin learns to hide in plain sight.

Everything, everywhere, everyone: he leaves.

Colin cultivates a talent for leaving. Until it thrums in his blood, bleeds out into the tapestry of his existence. As a boy, he sneaks snails in Benedict's bed and leaves off to hide in the linen closet from his fury. He waves goodbye to Daphne on the steps, his younger sister already looking so much older and heavier and faraway, leaning on Eloise as his carriage rolls off. His papa dies and he leaves. Each year, Eton, he leaves and finds Mama a shade more vibrant than last time. The world moves on away from him, aside from him, outside of him. Marina breaks his heart and he leaves. Lady Whistledown break his heart and he leaves. and each time he is Back, he is also in the background.

when he returns after his second tour, this time, it's Penelope who's changed. Penelope who looks at him differently. Penelope like he has never seen her. and he feels so much a stranger as he always did each time he left, but never felt with her, before. in a way, their closeness had been his sanctuary. steadfast. like a heartbeat. like a drum. when it falters, when she avoids him, and when she breaks his heart unknowing she could, and when he finds out she's Lady Whistledown, he leaves. and he hides. and he keeps it in secret.

keeps it poorly. because his mum is a smart woman and even though he's tried not to let her see it, somewhere in her, she can always know when her boy is in pain. he's of her blood, her body, a fragment of her soul. and when she comes to him, this time, when she recognizes this heartbreak and he can no longer keep it in, for the first time in a decade, Colin breaks open, and he cries to his mum

and he starts to unlearn.

[wordsformurder]

Wishlist 2023, Day 2

[caesariawritesstuff]

I'm just a girl, wishing Ao3 had a "schedule" feature 🫠

[toxintouch]

Love the thought of Mhin’s monster being terrifying; a true threat to your (the MC’s) safety, an insurmountable burden that has destroyed Mhin’s life and that’s why they are so desperate for a cure.

But also…

Thinking about Androcles removing the thorn from the lion’s paw…

The thought that maybe if the monster doesn’t successfully kill you the first time, it will recognize you the second.

That transformation looks like it hurts.  Before, after, during.

The idea that it will be a slow process, a dangerous one, but if you can survive, if you can calm it down–

Preening broken feathers.  A slow and methodical process, but your heart beats like you’re running for your life.  You keep retreating, feather by feather, because you’re not sure how stable this moment of calm is, how long you have before it will try to kill you again. 

You gain Mhin’s trust the same way.  Slow and methodical.  Showing your hands at all times.  No sudden movements.

Mhin knows you ran into their Monster–knows that you know.  They hate the thought of putting this much faith in another person but they hate the thought that the monster might get out and harm people even more.  You could be an ally in this too, they suppose…

They hand over a key to their safe house, show you how to use the security measures they have in place for when they transform.  They explain to you how to safely lock them inside–it can be done from either side effectively but Mhin never gives any thought to which side of the door you’d choose to be on…

You start asking Kuras for medical supplies, unable to give any information regarding why you need them.  You see someone selling hunting birds and carrier pigeons in the market so you ply them for information, paying them back by shelling out a ridiculous amount of money on whatever care products look like they might be moderately useful.

More preening broken feathers.  It seems to–they–seem to understand that you mean to help, now.  The process becomes easier.  You start carefully removing bits of broken glass you find embedded into them–you’re not sure how it got there, if the glass is something mystical or if they went on a little rampage before you were able to lead them into the safe house.  Maybe they’re just like a regular bird and they ran into something by accident.  Maybe it’s been there for years because no one’s been around (or able to) take it out.  

Does it hurt Mhin, too?

You’re even more determined with that thought, though you have to be so-very-careful because if you startle or hurt them, they become agitated.  You’re not sure if they would hurt you on purpose anymore, but they sure as hell could kill you by accident.

It burns your heart to leave some pieces in before Mhin changes back, but you know you have to.  You can’t help if you don’t stay safe. And Mhin always makes you promise to look after yourself when they can't.

Mhin transforms back and realizes that it didn’t take so much from them this time, that the usual pain is a little lesser, that they still ache but it isn’t debilitating.  They write it off at first but the thought sits at the back of their mind. Filling them with unrest. A thorn in their side that they cannot quite reach...

They go to their safe house to check how the locks are holding up and they notice some things.  A large basin for water. Your supplies.  A music box, of all things.

Needless to say, they’re horrified.  They demand to know what you’re doing.  Are you trying to get yourself killed?

“I knew you had no sense but–”

You assure them that you’re taking every precaution.

Besides, aren’t you doing the right thing?  It’s totally logical that they (–it , Mhin insists) can get thirsty, of course Mhin is feeling better when they aren’t being locked in an empty room deprived of water half the time.

The monster looks so sad, now that they aren’t trying to hurt you.  As they became more used to you, you began to see the parts where they and Mhin overlap.  Shared habits.  The way they settle down to sleep at night is the same…

Mhin hates the monster inside of them, but you don’t.

[shaylogic]

Edwin: Honestly, Charles, sometimes I wish you would cease your nonsense. . .

Charles: Why don't you cease my nonsense for me?

Edwin: What?

Charles:

Edwin:

[the-femslash-wishlist]

Place your estimates in the tags

[sotwk]

With my birthday coming up in exactly 2 months, I'm realizing there are only three things I wish for this year:

Incandescent happiness for all my Mutuals and Followers.

Minimum three-digit reblogs with comments/tags for all fics of all fanfic writers and all fanart of artists.

More Eomer fanfics and fanart than there are gold pieces in the entire Lonely Mountain.

Dream big on your birthdays, everyone!

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

The fix

"Motherfucker!"

Carmy looked up and the L passing by over his head seemed to give him a flash of energy that restarted every cell in his body. He put the phone back in his pocket and started jogging slowly at first, then he picked up the pace and just let his deafening heart guide his steps.

The night summer breeze of Chicago stroked his face in a way that on any other given occasion would have felt nice or comforting, but not right now. He was fixating on one thing and one thing only.

Before he knew it, Carmy was jog trotting at a speed that made passersby look at him with a frown. When he tried to cross the street a driver honked at him. He was running at full speed now. The sweat running down his back started to bother him, but he kept going.

In less than 10 minutes he was trying to catch his breath at the entrance of Syd's apartment building and making an effort to remember which floor she lived on. He was sure he had overheard a conversation she had had with Marcus but couldn't quite recall what she told him about her apartment. He was too busy trying to catch what Marcus told her. Obviously, he tried to text her to no avail, so he had to get creative because that piece of specific info was not in the group chat, only her partial address was.

He thought of pounding on the door till someone let him in but it was past midnight and he feared that some neighbor called 911 on him. So he did what any Michael Berzatto's baby brother and Richie Jerimovich's cousin, would have done: He used his Dankort Visa, which he still kept in his wallet as a memento.

Carmy's skilled right hand slid the long end of the credit card in between the doorframe and the locking side of the door, just above where the lock enters the frame, then angled the card downward and situated it behind the bolt of the lock, just like he had a seen Cousin doing it a couple of times, through his window, when Richie got himself locked out of the house and Mikey wasn't there to break them in because he was still partying elsewhere or getting lucky. He remembered Mikey's words: "You want to make sure that the card is perpendicular to the door, Bear, is as simple as that... just wiggle it back and forth quickly, like this, see?" He struggled just for a few more seconds and then he heard the sound of victory. The door was now unlocked!

He was in before the guy who was casually walking his dog on the sidewalk, with his eyes pinned to the screen of his phone, could realize that something fishy was going on in that stoop.

Then he started climbing the stairs still unsure of what door to knock, but he followed the music, instinctively.

He stopped in his tracks and couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Syd curled up on the floor, gasping for air and shaking. She also seemed to be crying and miserably failing at trying to collect herself. He knew that body language too well, she was either having a panic attack or just barely emerging from it. He could tell her shoulders would rise and fall due to her labored breathing and that her attempts to take deep, soothing breaths, were the reason why her eyes were closed. She was making fists with her hands and he could see them trembling, slightly. Syd was fighting back the turmoil inside that constricted her chest with an impending sense of doom. And she was winning.

Carmy was shocked. He never imagined seeing her like that.

"Syd".

She opened her eyes and looked like a deer in the headlights.

Nothing had to be said at that point. Words were futile.

He helped her up and wrapped his strong arms around her.

She was still crying silent tears.

The music kept trespassing the wooden door and the sound of Bruce Springsteen's voice singing:

"There's a war outside still raging

You say it ain't ours anymore to win

I want to sleep beneath peaceful skies

In my lover's bed

With a wide open country in my eyes

And these romantic dreams in my head"

seemed to be mocking them both.

Sydney clung to Carmy for dear life. She didn't know how much she needed that till she let herself hold him.

Her lungs finally gave her a break.

Her breathing slowly returned to normal. He kept her cadence without noticing his own breathing was now in sync with hers. Again, instinctively.

"It's over, Syd. You're gonna be OK. Just breathe. Breathe."

She closed her eyes again and did.

"I did this, right? I-I"

Sydney's words failed her. She could now breathe just fine, but the lump in her throat kept a tight grip on her, and be quiet was all she could manage to do.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but..."

"Don't. Don't say that. I'm sick of it."

Now it was Carmy's turn to be quiet. He was taking the blame. He wanted to say so many things but all of them felt completely out of place. He knew his words held no value and it was killing him.

"I know". He whispered. His acknowledgment was almost inaudible. He figured it was pointless, anyway.

It was.

Syd looked at him with pity.

He felt slapped.

"I don't wanna do this anymore, Carmy."

She let go.

He let go too.

They just stood there in the hallway, looking at each other. Carmy was confused. What exactly was that supposed to mean? She meant not do what anymore? The whole "I'm sorry" sequence? Or...

They both let the upbeat-flashy, synth-heavy melody on the other side of the door make that moment impossibly awkward.

The Weeknd was blinded by the lights and he couldn't sleep until he felt her touch, he was drowning in the night... Carmy was drowning too and for a fleeting moment, he thought that the lyrics hit too close to home.

"D'you wanna come in?" She gestured the door and he shook his head.

"I-I- no, I should go, this is just not-not the right time for what I wanted to say anyway, but... Syd...So d'you wanna quit? Is-is it over?"

After a long silence, she said "C'mere."

She took his hand and opened the door. They got in and everyone's eyes were on them. She tried to smile and crack a bad joke:

"Look what I found."

Carmy shyly waved to the group of people having a great time. They all waved back and seemed happy to see him there, except for Richie, who rolled his eyes.

When she let go of his hand he felt nervous. Upset even. Her hand belonged in his, he thought. It just felt right and now it felt like he was missing something important, something he was meant to hold and that had abandoned him. Her warmth. That was it! He realized that he was craving the warmth he only got to feel for a few moments. He needed more of that. He could finally think clearly. His priorities were now crystal clear:

Sydney's hand in his was number 1, not just literally speaking. He couldn't let her go in any sense. The star he had to get for her, was a close second, and last, but certainly not least, he had to make sure that Cicero didn't let go of his hand either. He was going to take it one step at a time. First things first.

His eyes followed her, but he stayed put there, near the door.

Syd was offered a drink of something he was sure was not water but looked like it and as she drank from the red plastic cup she stared back at him. None of them felt uncomfortable as they held each other gazes. Their eyes spoke volumes and none of them shied away at any point.

She put the cup down, made her way to the Bluetooth speaker one of the Faks brought in, and turned it off, just when Kill_mR_GJ's Summer radio got to its bridge. The music played on but from the computer instead at a much lower volume so Syd closed her laptop and with that couple of movements, she unceremoniously put an end to the impromptu party that had taken over her apartment.

The crowd grunted and booed but there was no use. They kept complaining for a while but Syd just couldn't care less. She excused herself and ask everyone to leave because she "wasn't feeling too well" and after playing along some lame jokes about her talent to hold her liquor being inversely proportional to her ass-stabbing skills, she showed everyone out. Everyone except Carmy. Not a soul at that party didn't notice that. They all knew he was staying behind and not even Cousin said a thing. It was an unspoken agreement that absolutely no one dared to question.

They were in the kitchen, which looked like total mayhem. She was making coffee and he was leaning against the refrigerator with his arms crossed over his chest. Studying her every move. Staring. Zeroing in.

"So you came here to show me that review?"

"No, I-I- had to tell you about the um... ultimatum. I wanted to talk to you, I- thought that-"

"The ultimatum?"

"Yes, Jimmy said that he'd no longer fund us, unless that review was perfect. And it wasn't."

"What are you talking about? It was pretty damn great."

"Not great enough."

She paused and chose her words carefully.

"Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Yes."

"So, it's over."

"It might be. But I won't let that happen, Syd. I won't. I owe you a star, and you're gonna get it."

"I don't give a fuck about that star, Carmy!"

Those words felt like bullets to him.

"We're about to lose the restaurant, Carm! All we worked for... I-I can't-"

"I'll talk to him tomorrow, well... in a few hours actually. And I'll try to get other investors, if necessary, I'll do whatever it takes, Syd."

She nodded and the worried look on her face pained him. He was her personal beacon of hurt, apparently. No matter what he did or failed to do, the result was always the same. Sydney got hurt and he was to blame. No matter how hard he tried, he never got it right.

He followed her to the living room where she placed the cups of coffee on a chair that was in front of the sofa and sat down.

Carmy joined her on the sofa and continued trying to reassure her:

"I will get us out of this, Syd. I promise. I have contacts in NY and Denmark, I-I will get us out of this shitstorm, I promise. I know my promises are worth shit at this point, I know, but I-"

"Stop talking."

It was as if a switch had been flipped off and he was now muted, mid-sentence, completely oblivious to the fact that his mouth was still open.

"I have something to tell you too."

"You scare me."

"I um...I was offered another job."

Carmy was so taken aback that needed a double take but couldn't say the words.

Syd went on:

"Shapiro, Ever's CD-"

"I know who he is."

Of course, he knew.

"Well...he's gonna open his own place and he wants me to be his CDC."

Carmy got up and went off:

"BUT YOU'RE MINE!"

Syd was not surprised nor amused by his reaction.

He realized he had to lower his voice and at least pretend he could keep it together.

"My CDC, I mean, Th-The Bear's, you-you know what I mean, Syd!"

"Are you finished?

"No. What did you say?"

"I haven't told him anything yet. I-I wanted to- I"

"You wanted to talk to me first."

"No, I wanted to think about it."

He felt stabbed in the middle of his chest. What was there to think about?! And then, the image of him feeling sorry for himself in the walk-in came to mind, and Carmy just felt defeated. Dead.

"You know what, Syd. You should go. I won't talk to Cicero tomorrow. I'll let him take it all. You go, I'm sure you-"

She started crying. Again.

Carmy stopped talking, mid-sentence. Again.

"Syd..."

"I don't wanna go. I wanna stay with you."

Her voice was a broken whisper and the tears running down her face couldn't be hidden from him, even when she covered her eyes and looked down.

He sat back down and tried to comfort her.

"Syd, c'mon. Don't do this. You're gonna be fine. Just-"

"Fuck you!"

"Syd! I just mean that you should follow your dreams- if that means-"

"Fuck you, Carmen! FUCK YOU! I'm not gonna be OK, whether I stay by your side or leave! Don't you understand?! If I go I will be just running away from you, not following my fucking dreams! If I stay you will continue stepping all over me and saying you're fucking sorry about it, only to do it again the next day, the next service, always. You turned into this monster that just barks all the time and the worse part is that I wanna fucking stay with you. It's all about you, whether I stay or leave IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU, CARMY!"

After seconds that felt like a twenty-year stretch for murder, he let his words fight back. He had some bullets with her name too.

"I didn't know that was how you felt, Sydney. I know I've been... a piece of shit. I know that. I could tell I was fucking it up. But I thought that out of all people you'd understand."

"Understand what?" She was still crying.

"That I'm doing this for you. For us. I'm sorry, I didn't wanna ruin it. But I did. I always do. That's why you should go, Syd. You're right."

They were both crying now.

After a while, he gently dried her tears with his thumbs and went to get some C-folds he had seen in the kitchen and a glass of water for her.

When he was looking for a clean glass he found a pack of cigarettes lying around. The brand he used to smoke. His craving for nicotine was off the charts, his last couple of gums couldn't be wasted this blatantly. He knew that they were gonna do no good to him. He was way past the point of popping gum and playing it cool.

His hand had a mind of his own, grabbed the Sapphires in a heartbeat and put them in his pocket.

When he got back to the living room Syd was feeling better apparently after having downed her cup of coffee and some of his. She drank the water too and took a deep breath. Then carefully put the glass on the chair and never taking her big brown eyes off it, she said:

"I will tell Shapiro I respectfully decline and you will tell Jimmy whatever you gotta tell him to make sure he doesn't pull the plug, on us." She emphasized that last word. Then looked up and found his piercing blue eyes looking back at her.

Syd didn't know what devotion looked like, but she was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe... it looked exactly like that.

She closed the distance between them, one inch at a time, impossibly doubtful, slowly but surely and kissed him.

This hunger took over and then everything was heady, quick, and intoxicating. In a split second, he was on top of her tracing a path of embers underneath her clothes, with his perfectly callus hands.

"Wait. Not here."

Carmy was panting and sweating, as she was, and when they both collected themselves enough for a moment, they went to the bedroom, never letting go of each other and removing every piece of clothes on the way there.

But they never made it to the bed.

Carmy followed her to the bathroom where she kept the condoms and when she turned around he made sure she couldn't cross that door. He closed it behind him, kissed her with all he had, and nailed her to it.

They sounded like beasts in heat. Biting and licking every patch of skin they could get a hold of.

They cried their respective names so many times they lost count, but all of that happened in under 10 minutes.

It was embarrassing. Well, for Carmy mostly. Syd was superbly content with the massive orgasm that left her legs shaking like leaves, although she was also a little mortified, due to the squirting and the fact that she could now see she had drawn blood from Carmy's shoulder. Best quickie she ever had.

Carmy still couldn't get enough of her. His kisses were as hungry after sex as they were during the brief foreplay they indulged in, Syd noticed.

They took a shower together, never giving their mouths a rest.

In the shower, he went down on her and this time it was her own blood she tasted when she bit her bottom lip as she came so hard that she almost slipped. He kept her in place with one hand as his fingers and tongue showed her what was like to fly and explode at the same time.

Then they moved it to the bed and collapsed in each other's arms, tangled up like branches in a flood.

There was no way they made it to work in time that morning.

They had no idea what time it was but could guess it was around noon because of the sunlight coming through her blinds.

Syd was flat on her stomach and Carmy was her weighted blanket.

No sheets, just two beautiful naked bodies, that fitted ideally together. Encompassing breaths. Caresses and hums. Kisses and moans. They needed nothing else.

After a long groan and a few more kisses that Carmy delicately planted on her upper back, he said:

"Do we have to go to work today?"

"It’s your restaurant."

"Our restaurant."

"I haven't signed the agreement, yet."

"Oh, you will..."

And he proceeded to fuck her brainless. Again.

Once they finished rocking each other's worlds he said: "I'd kill for a smoke. You're bad for my health."

"Oh shut the fuck up!" Syd laughed out loud and kissed him.

They made out for some time, getting comfortable with the fact there was no point in hurrying up because they were so late already that it would make no difference.

He suddenly got up and she whimpered as she saw his flawlessly toned and naked ass walking out of the room and into her living room.

"I'll be right back."

Carmy remembered that he had a pack of cigarettes in his pants and off he went to get his drug. The mantra looping on and on in his head all along was: "Fuck it!"

Then he ventured into the kitchen and lit the cig. When he got back to bed, he was grinning like a devil.

When Syd saw the cigarette in his mouth she smiled and couldn't help but praise the Lord:

"Thank fucking God!"

He joined her and they shared the cigarette.

"So I guess I need more of these now and less gum."

"If you chew one more piece of that fucking gum, Carmy, I swear to God!"

"Lung cancer it is then. Not a problem."

"Thanks!"

They sealed the deal with another kiss and much more...

His nicotine gum was later tossed in the trash, keeping the used condoms company.

As soon as they stepped into the restaurant everyone could sense the energy shift. It was instantaneous.

Richie was appalled.

"No, you didn't!!!" He said, sounding as dramatic as possible.

Nat was right there with Cousin but silently gushed instead. It was obvious. Something had happened between them, something big, and given the look and huge smiles on their faces, it had to be good. Better than good.

Sugar's phone buzzed and she saw another text from Uncle Jimmy complaining about Carmy not answering his phone.

She handed the phone to Carmy for him to read the text and he nonchalantly admitted to having turned his off.

"OK, great!"

"Where do I put this, Sug."

"What's that?"

Syd cut in "It's my share of this partnership."

"Oh, you signed it!!! Oh my God! Welcome to the family, Syd! I'm so glad!"

They hugged it out and then Nat continued making assumptions:

"So, that was it? Was that why you two came in so incredibly late today and didn't answer your phones? You two were going over the agreement?"

Syd and Carmy looked at each other and said "Yes!" in unison.

Richie was not buying it.

Later that day he went outside for a smoke and Carmy joined him in the back alley shortly after for the same reason.

Richie couldn't help himself and shot: "So, how does your GIRLFRIEND feel about you smoking again?

"She threw out the gum."

"Oh, I'm afraid that's love, man. She's a keeper."

"I know."

Three months later, the entire Bear family, including the two lovebirds, gathered around a double grave, one next to the other. It turns out that all of this relatively light-hearted phase they had been recently been going through, had to be balanced out by the universe somehow.

Neil and Theodore Fak were now together for eternity, resting in peace.

Theodore was 'fixing' a disco ball that wouldn't spin when he electrocuted himself and Neil, wanting to save his brother, followed him to the grave instead.

"He died like a hero," Ebra said.

There was someone in the distance, by a cypress, hiding her features behind dark shades and a black scarf. She was the ghost, not the dead bodies six feet under.

Dr. Dunlap didn't want to be seen or join the group of people saying their last goodbyes to the Fak brothers.

She just wanted to see the one who got away.

Dr. Dunlap still couldn't believe that Carmy Berzatto, the Bear she remembered, slipped through her fingers just like that and was now lovingly consoling that woman as she cried burying her head in his shoulder. The doctor would have given her right arm to be in her place.

Neil and Theodore had looped her in Carmy's new marital status pretty much immediately after Syd and Carmy made it official and she had been spiraling ever since.

When Dr. Dunlap thought this couldn't get any worse, she noticed that Carmy looked her way through his own dark glasses and whispered something in Sydney's ear. She turned around and looked at her too, as she protectively tightened her grip around Carmy.

'Apparently, Carmy's new partner is territorial,' the outcast physician thought. And that was her queue to leave. So just like she had done when Carmy told her that no amount of good times they ever had, was worth how terrible he felt, she wiped a tear and left. She just couldn't stand it.

Ironically enough, the ghost she was turning into, was the haunted one, haunted by the memories of his blue eyes and now by Sydney's arms around him too. All of a sudden this overwhelming feeling of having to get the hell away from there, and by there she didn't just mean the Cemantery but Chicago, became unbearable.

The new Italian investors, whom Carmy got to repay Cicero and continue to operate at the top level from which he was unwilling to downgrade, were happy to announce that they were not only completely satisfied with The Bear and its numbers, but that they had plans to franchise it by next year. The Hamptons was a market they were interested in exploring and the thriving and innovative option The Bear posed, was exactly what they were looking for.

Carmy and Syd were on board. The star she used to want so bad, was now just a memory for her. All she now wanted was to see the business grow and make sure that it kept going strong.

Carmy, on the other hand, was still fixated on her star but had made sure that it didn't cost him her. He was on a couple of meds and going to the AA meetings religiously as well, plus Syd and he had started going to couples therapy bi-weekly. Things were really looking up for him. To the point that Donna and him were no longer strangers. They still had a looooong way to go, but they could at least have a decent conversation now and then and get together without anyone ending up in the ER. He could appreciate the progress and he was glad, relieved even. Maybe this was what peace was really like, not what he had thought it was when his life was extremely unfulfilling and self-sabotage was his middle name. Carmy started contemplating and embracing that idea. Maybe this was it. Maybe he had finally found his peace.

He could keep this newfound peace during the most stressful days at the office, even when he was on the phone with vendors from around the world, fine-tuning the engines to smoke the competition, and by competition, he was only referring to one restaurant in the entire Chicago area: "Adam". He could keep it even when Richie got on his nerves, although that didn't happen as often anymore because they talked it out and buried the hatchet after a Sydney/Jess intervention. Carmy could even wear his peace hat when he ran into Shapiro at the farmers' market. He'd later blow the steam off at the gym and pop some painkillers when he overdid it with the punching bag, but other than that he was a peace enthusiast level 1, sometimes even 2. He expected to get to level 3 someday knowing that level 5 was totally unattainable for him, but he reckoned he could live with that.

Days passed by and the hectic atmosphere of the BOH started to resemble the one he once experienced in Copenhagen, at least half the time. Syd and he were the golden team behind that change that took almost a year to manifest but was now finally coming to fruition.

Sydney had come up with the most incredible family menu based on turkey and black mulberries, which even included a vegan and gluten-free alternative. He was positive it was going to be one of their biggest hits. As her menus always were.

Both the BOH and the FOH were working as smoothly as possible now, considering that Carmy and Richie were both in them but apparently their secret weapons: Sydney and Jess, respectively, were the keys to this. And Nat was finally in a place where she didn't have to consider herself a mother 3: her daughter, her brother, and her cousin. Life was grand and it went on like in some sort of rom-com.

Everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop, not just Carmy but at one point they just accepted that they might have earned this truce by doing a deep dive into the seven circles of hells the years prior, so perhaps they actually had this coming and were only supposed to reap the benefits of it while it lasted.

But there was more, much more to come.

That fateful day, when Carmy picked up the phone, he fully expected to hear Syd's voice on the other end of the line because he knew Tina and her were at the farmer's market and she usually called Nat to run some numbers by her if she wanted to go off budget or make any last-minute changes to it. He just happened to be using Sugar's desk that day because she was at a pediatrician's appointment, and his was a mess.

It wasn't Syd on the phone, though. It was fate.

The star was hers.

He could now die in peace.

When he gave her the news he could feel that warmth he had grown addicted to, emanating from her skin. It permeated through him and impregnated every bone in his body when he lifted her in his arms.

Her joy and tears filled his heart and soul and he felt more alive than ever before. He wanted to give her all the stars in the sky. He wanted to make a sport out of this.

She was worth it.

And Carmy was no longer the man he was when he decided that he wanted to share his lifelong dream with her. He was now a better man because of her. He was no longer broken, now he felt whole because he had finally, once and for all, kept the promise he made to her.

He was no longer a failure, but that didn't matter as much as knowing that she was happy and that he had something to do with that. It was no longer about him. It hadn't been about him since she walked into his life. Who was he kidding?

Syd was also happy for Carm. She knew that the hell he was putting himself through, was now over. It was time to just lay back and enjoy what they all had built together.

She valued that way more than the star and the JB award she had received a few weeks prior.

If someone had told her that the Michelin star she had always dreamed of was going to fade away next to everything else she had gained in the process of winning it, she wouldn't have believed them. She would have called absolute bullshit on that.

She couldn't have been more wrong in that case.

The Bear made the news, and the update about them getting a Michelin star went viral in a few hours.

And by the next day, no one in Chicago was unaware of their award.

That included Dr. Dunlap who was no longer in Chicago but found out anyway, via The Chicago Tribune pop notifications she kept receiving on her phone.

She was at the New York Presbyterian's cafeteria squeezing a miserable 20-minute lunch break that consisted of a salad in a plastic container and an apple when she read the headline popping up and hesitated before tapping on the news alert to read the whole article.

The picture of the smiling couple burned her retinas. Dr. Dunlap could feel the wave of acid reflux coming up her esophagus and burning her insides.

Carmy looked happy and healthy. Maybe even younger. Definitely more relaxed. He was a new man.

Her first instinct was correct. She shouldn't have tapped on it.

"The Bear receives its well-deserved first Michelin star"

Located in River North, The Bear of Chicago is home not only to the best menu in town, but it’s also home for future husband and wife Carmen Berzatto and Sydney Adamu. The couple got engaged last year at Christmas dinner after having worked together for almost two years...

She had to drop the phone as if it was red hot and had to stop reading on the spot. She had to die. That's what she wanted. Instead, she bitched and whined:

"A new man! You're a fucking new man who got engaged with his CDC only 5 minutes after we broke up. You fucking piece of shit! That's what you are, Bear. Thanks for nothing, fucker!"

She hadn't realized she was saying all of that out loud, practically yelling. But she was and everyone in the cafeteria was judging her.

Eventually, when she could calm down, Dr. Dunlap read the entire text:

"The Bear receives its well-deserved first Michelin star" Located in River North, The Bear of Chicago is home not only to the best menu in town, but it’s also home for future husband and wife Carmen Berzatto and Sydney Adamu. The couple got engaged last year at Christmas dinner after having worked together for almost two years to make their dream spot come true. The dream was a family-style restaurant, with two tops, booths, Danish design, window on the side for sandwiches to keep The Beef's legacy alive and a star. Their dream came true last year when they opened to a full house and kept that momentum going on a weekly basis till now when their hard work and excellent cuisine earned them the Michelin star they always dreamed of. Five universal criteria are taken into account to decide who makes the annual Michelin cut. First and foremost, the quality of the carefully curated ingredients, then the harmony of flavors and the mastery of techniques the chefs apply to combine them in a balanced and artistic way that entice the palates, but what truly makes the difference is the personality of the chefs as expressed through their cuisine and, just as importantly, consistency both across the entire menu and over time. The Bear seems to excel at all of it. At the restaurant, Sydney creates tasting menus that are acutely tuned to each season of the beloved Windy City she was born and raised in. "Carm", as she calls him, also a native Chicagoan who traveled the world perfecting his fine-dining craft, is in charge of sourcing the best ingredients they need to serve "heaven on a plate", as Chef Andrea Terry called their dishes once. "Natalie, my sister-in-law, is in charge of Operations and runs the numbers to make all of this possible, Carm and I couldn't be luckier, Natalie is our backbone." Carmy is quick to add "Syd is the heart" and Sydney accepts his compliment with a knowing smile and quips “Our areas are very different, but we’re each other’s silver linings,” she elaborates on their joint journey. “We’ve evolved, but we’ve evolved together. Who we’ve become as individuals and what we do individually is supported collectively. It’s so compatible. If anything, it’s strengthened our relationship. We are family and so much more than that too, and that's what we are here to share with all of those who wish to join us.”

A/N: I have no idea how to open a door with a credit card, I got that from here. And the news article is a true story's adaptation, Kyle and Katina Connaughton's story. Also, I got lots of intel from my favest guide → Michelin Guide. Last but not least: dividers and banners by @reveriesources and @cafekitsune, respectively. You can also find this fic on AO3.

Thanks for reading, chefs! 💋

*Special thanks to: @only-one-brain-cell for the inspo, love our super fun fic jam sessions.

XOXO