#gin carmen

[marblecarved]

@alyafae sent a letter to esme cullen: ‘‘ come in, make yourself right at home, you can stay as long as you need. ’’

prompt: atlas’ enneagram sentence starters.

Giving a short, appreciative nod at her words, Esme follows Carmen inside, but does not step further in the house, instead she lingers close to the threshold, where she takes in the entrance and the living room as they present themselves to her upon entering.

An artist's eye never misses a detail, and so Esme takes a moment to search for them, which leads her to step forward, turning once on the spot, wanting to be certain that she has truly looked at the room, not wanting to miss a thing. ❝ How lovely, ❞ even though she turns towards Carmen, and away from the fireplace, this she says more to herself than to her.  She thought the same of the surrounding landscape upon arrival, and how could she not ? With fresh fallen snow glittering on the ground, the pine trees and the mountains looming behind them, and it was indeed all so lovely that Esme had half a mind of painting it.

❝ Thank you for inviting me in, Carmen, ❞ a dimpled smile accompanies her words. ❝ It has been so long since we last saw each other. How have you been ? ❞

[frimleyblogger]

58 And Co

Three stunning #gins from @58andco which mix elegance, complexity, and sustainability #gin #ginreview

Style mixed with sustainability are the hallmarks of the impressive offerings from a small, ambitious distillery based in Haggerton in East London, 58 and Co. Under the direction of their founder, Carmen O’Neal, they are positioning themselves as an “eco-conscious, sustainably-focused distillery” committed to growing “the craft spirit movement in a sustainable and positive way”. As proof of their…

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 24.5 - You Can Throw A Party

Ok, so this is shorter, but I really didn't know what else to put. But I hope it satisfies everyone's wants and needs! This got super sappy, but I loved the ending and I hope you do too!

Like always comments, questions, concerns, asks, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Love you all and enjoy :D

The grid didn’t know what to expect when they finally arrived at the address that you had sent. Sure, they were expecting a house, but a plain and simple one. Not the giant ass mansion that their Ubers pulled up to. 

Charles looked at Pierre. 

“Is this the right house?” 

The Frenchman just shrugged his shoulders. Lando and Oscar had ridden with Alex, Lily, and Logan, who arrived at pretty much the same time as everyone else. Max and Arthur had apparently arrived early, since they weren’t staying in an extra hotel. 

Why the rest didn’t just accept your offer to stay there was your guess. But as the group of 17 guys gazed at the giant estate, they were rethinking their options.

The rest didn’t really know what to say. 

“I volunteer Lando to knock first!” Oscar called out before pushing the Briton toward the door. 

“Hey! Why me? I vote for Logan?” 

“Excuse you? I’m not the party animal Mr. Worldwide.” 

“Is that supposed to be an insult, Mr. Eagle screech?” 

“Well, if the boot fits.” 

“What did you just say?” 

“If the boot fits.” 

“Can you two please calm down?” the familiar voice of Lewis asked as he got out of his car with George and Carmen. Both were wearing similar outfits to everyone else. Light button ups with shorts. He was about to say something, but the front door opened. 

Arthur just stood there, looking weirdly once everyone didn’t move. 

“Are you all going to stand there arguing or come in?” he called out. Once the group got the go ahead, they all walked swiftly to the door. 

They thought the outside was huge, but the inside seemed to be even bigger. At the giant bar in the corner, the drivers found you siting and talking to Max, who already had a gin tonic in his hand. Arthur came over, putting a hand on your waist and a kiss on your head. Max spotted the group first and left you alone with your boyfriend. 

Logan’s jaw dropped as he witnessed the move. 

“When did that happen?” 

He pointed at the two of you, causing the rest of the drivers to look. Charles smirked at the sight of his brother and you being cozy. 

Max leaned over, “He asked her out after her crash at Suzuka.” 

Charles shivered at the memory of that day. 

He also added, “He’s been in love with her since their first season of Formula 2. I remember him coming home after he met her. ‘Charles, I think I just found the love of my life’.” 

The grid let out a bunch of “awes” at the new information and laughed at Charles’s impression of his brother (even though he could have just talked normally and sounded the exact same). They watched as the younger Monegasque place another gentle kiss on your forehead as you looked up at him, love evident in your eyes. The two of you were so soft as Arthur was gently rubbing your leg as you animatedly talked to Vito. 

You finally laid eyes on the rest of the drivers, smile widening as you slid off the stool you were sitting on. 

“Anyone want a drink?” you questioned, motioning to the bar. 

They were silent for a moment, before Fernando said, “Yes please.” 

That was the start of a wild night. It wasn’t too long before the drinks were being poured and refilled. Since you had started drinking here and there, you stayed safe with little fruity drinks. The grid was shocked at what your house had to offer. 

They were the first few to show up, but multiple personelle started coming after a while. It looked like the party was truly open to whoever wanted to come (except to one certain 6-foot baguette driver). Your entire team was talking the workers from other teams as well. It was a full house, and everyone was getting along – even Toto and Christian. That duo made your eyes bulge as you saw them getting along as they played pool. 

You took the group on a house tour. Charles wanted to cry at the sight of your car collection in the garage. Logan and Alex definitely took turns taking pictures inside the Evo. The next place you took them was the track. 

The drivers whined as they looked at the shiny karts. 

“Where did you get these? I don’t recognize the model,” Carlos mentioned, while crouching down to look closer. 

Your smile grew as you brushed one off. “My manager has his own line. I bought some off of him once I found out about the karting track.” 

The next few things went quickly. The girls really loved the giant bedrooms that the house had to offer. You had a smirk on your face as Carmen was complaining to George. 

She huffed. “Why would you want to stay at a hotel when we could have stayed here?”

George gawked at her, trying to come up with an excuse. 

You took this as a sign to pipe up. 

“Actually, I had my people bring your stuff over. I think after the party, everyone won’t want to leave.” 

Carmen, Lily, and Alex all squealed at the announcement. You could see George, Alex, and Charles all visible relax once their girlfriends were satiated. You knew that they would want to get into the pool at some point. 

They were speechless at the sight of your paddle court as well as the laser tag room. Once the tour was over, you let everyone just free. After a few rounds of paddle and karting, you made your way back into the main living room. 

You quickly found yourself cuddled up to your boyfriend. Your head was nicely tucked into his neck as your legs were draped over his legs. He was currently talking to Christian and Geri about how endurance training. You definitely saw the outcomes of the extra gym time as you glanced at his more defined muscles.

After everyone had their share of the house, Lando got his hands on the DJ set that you installed just for the party. 

“Who’s fucking ready for this?” he yelled out, starting up the first song. That was cue for you and Arthur to get up and start moving. You’re pretty sure you saw Toto getting it down to Right Round. 

Logan of course had to ask for Free Bird and completely ripped his shirt during the guitar solo. Oscar just stayed in a corner, shaking his head with a hand over his face. If his Lily was here, he’d probably not be the American’s babysitter, but tonight he was girlfriendless and babysitting duty was placed on him. 

Once a few more songs had played, Arthur suddenly left your grasp. The night was winding down as it neared 3 a.m., so you thought he was going to get ready for bed. Yet, he walked over to Lando, showed the Briton a song on his phone, and walked back to you. 

A soft melody filled the air. The partiers (Logan, Daniel, Fernando, George, Carlos, and Charles) were all passed out somewhere. 

Your eyes widened at the familiar guitar plucking. You smiled up at Arthur. 

“You didn’t.” 

He rolled his eyes. 

“It’s your song Cheri. Of course I did.” 

You placed your head on his chest as the two of you penguin danced. Max was on the side with Christian and Vito, watching the whole thing. 

“Nothing ‘bout the way that you were treated ever seemed alarming till now

“So you tie up your hair and you smile like it’s no big deal” 

You sighed as you listened to the lyrics of the song Arthur picked out for you. Tears wanted to fall, but you wanted to bask in the moment. Arthur gently placed his head on yours, holding you ever so tighter. 

“You can let it go

“You can throw a party full of everyone you know and not invite your family, ‘cause they never showed you love. You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.” 

The drivers who were left on the floor all watched as the crowd slowly broke up, letting you and Arthur just be together. 

Geri leaned her head on Christian as she watched the two of you just hold each other. Max was videoing for Kelly as she couldn’t make it. 

Alex had nudged Charles very hard so that he could wake up and possibly film it for his mother. The Monegasque might have also let out a few tears at the sight. 

Lando, who had been at the DJ booth, turned the sound up a bit higher, really letting the song echo throughout the whole house. 

Everyone was now watching as Arthur was now slightly spinning you. Your giggles could be heard by those around the two of you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned back in.

The warmth and love around you was everything that you asked for. 

Vito, who was off to the side, looked out the window to a bright star in the sky. He smiled softly as the one star twinkled, almost winking at the Italian. He chuckled as he if he was going to tell a funny joke. 

He softly whispered, “She finally found the family she needed. You’d be so proud of her.”

The star twinkled once again, almost in response. 

Vito looked back at the dance floor, just you and Arthur together, surrounded by everyone who loved you. 

Your family. 

“You can let it go. You can throw a party full of everyone you know 

“You can start a family who will always show you love 

“You don’t have to be sorry, no.” 

y/n.jpg has posted (imagine insta can post 12 pics lol)

y/n.jpg did someone say party?

tagged: arthur_leclerc, landonorris, maxverstappen1, vito_official, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, georgerussell63, fernandoalo_official, carmenmmundt, yukitusoda0511, pierregasley, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, alex_albon, and lilymhe

liked by christianhorner, y/n.nation, lestappenlove, maxiel4ever, and 357,295 others

rookie_on_top I just wanna know how big her house is

formulafan1 I know the guest list must have been INSANE

logan2sargeant I heard that pretty much everyone on the grid was there ouioui_bagette there were other pictures from the drivers and it seemed like the team principals were enjoying the time as well

ozzydown_under81 so this is where the catering money went to?

madmax33 how did max get on Vito's shoulders and what even is that shirt????????

maxverstappen1 it's a mindset vito_official your thighs are amazing man maxiel4ever HOLD UP

logansargeant I swear I'm not as think as you drunk I am

y/n.jpg he's gone...Oscar?? oscarpiastri on it

y/n.nation we have lando back on dj duty, Charles is acting carefree, Nando and George are back together partying, Yuki and pierre got into the karaoke room?, and apparently Logan ripped his shirt open during Free Bird

logansargeant hell yeaahhhhhh! EAGLE SCREECH RAWWRRR oscarpiastri get back here

y/nxarthur did anyone else see that video lando posted and then took down?

y/n&co I did! looked like Arthur and y/n were slow dancing together rookie_baby this and then Arthur's post?? they aren't as secret as they think lol

lilymhe never drinking that much again, but thanks babe for the fun night!

alex_albon no problem y/n.jpg she wasn't talking to you

gridkid everyone is probably wasted

y/n.jpg you'd be correct

sebvettelfan aahhh this reminds me of the good days when they could just party

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

[nolita-fairytale]

comfort & chaos (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) chapter one: october 2019

summary: the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you: carmy, the recently promoted chef du cuisine at the best restaurant in the world, has no idea what he's in for when he accidentally spills his drink on the recently hired patissiere. (prequel to make my heart surrender)

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language. eventual smut.

word count: 4.5k

listen to: dover beach part 2 - baby queen | alaska - maggie rogers | less than i do - the band camino | 2 / 14 - the band camino

a/n: i'm back back back again! this is six part series will be a snapshot of carmy x reader's relationship in nyc that span across a three year period. i'm really looking forward to writing their friendship & so much repressed sexual tension it's not even funny. this is the first story i've published without it being almost or fully written so updates will maybe be more sporadic this time.

October 2019 

“i was hoping somehow we'd end up together, outside, past midnight, and smoking cigarettes. the wallpaper inside my brain is decorated with your face. i'm lonely for you only, and i'm trying to convince you that i'm something you could love.” – dover beach (pt 2)

He hates you. 

You’re absolutely sure of it. 

You can see it in the way his body stiffens as you walk by – in the way he hasn’t stopped sending you long, piercing glares across the kitchen – in just how bright red his face turns when you catch him doing it. 

And for what? For being excellent? For being good enough to get a job after staging that one night?

Fuck that, you think to yourself.

You find Carmen Berzatto infuriating, and it begins to dawn on you that you may have had one too many gin cocktails to stomach the fact that you have to be here tonight. 

Here, at his promotion party. 

Here, at this stupid fucking bar that you hate. 

Here, because he’s sort of everyone’s boss now… and it’s something you’re just going to have to live with.

It hadn’t come as much of a surprise. There’d been talk of a leadership change (and Carmy filling the CDC position) when you had first started working here, but having a head’s up didn’t really help you now. You just hadn’t pictured having to go out for drinks to celebrate the man that seemed like he could barely stand being in the same room as you. But your friend Liz, one of the chef de parties at the restaurant, had insisted you come with, since she hadn’t wanted to go alone. You understood why you both had to go, so you’d invited your other best friend to help the both of you get through. 

You thank your lucky stars that your direct report is the head pastry chef and not Carmy. Using your boss as a buffer, you had used every excuse in the book to avoid interacting with him. 

Sure, he was brilliant. 

Sure, he was a wunderkind who had just gotten back from a three month stage at noma right before he was hired here.

Sure, he was kind of a total asshole. 

“Fuck that, man! C’mon. Just one shot. It’s your big night, motherfucker!” Nate calls out, practically shoving a shot into Carmy’s hand. 

“Oh, I- uh, I’m good, man,” Carmy stutters, trying to find an excuse not to take the shot. 

Truthfully, he hates shots… and he’s not much of a vodka drinker either. 

He’s just not in the mood to get hammered either, his thoughts consumed with tomorrow, his first day as chef du cuisine, going perfectly. 

You watch the uncomfortable interaction, almost feeling bad for the guy. Nate and the most recently promoted sous, Tim, are trying their best to corral Carmy into taking the shot as you walk by. You can see the uncomfortable look on Carmy’s face as he declines Nate’s offer for a second time. 

In fact, he seems like a different person tonight. He’s… boyishly awkward, almost, and you wonder if he’s maybe not so great in social situations. As you pass by, drink in hand, you hear a cacophony of sound. Carmy’s trying his best to dodge his friends’ next attempt, and before you know it, Nate’s practically pushing him towards Tim, sending Carmy backwards, tumbling right into you. 

You feel the wet liquid of your gin and tonic, along with the shot of vodka that’s flown out of Carmy’s hand spill all over your shirt. The shot glass shatters as it hits the floor, and the sobering feeling of ice cold liquid soaking through your shirt causes you to shriek. 

“Shit! What the fuck, Carmy!” you yell, angrily, as you push him off of you.

At this point, you could care less that he’s everyone’s new boss, and the drama of it all has caught the attention of almost all of the other restaurant staff that have come out tonight. Your friends rush towards you, searching for as many napkins as they can grab. 

“Fffffuck,” is all he says back and you can’t believe he’s yelling at you right now. You watch as his face changes quickly, from angry, to thoroughly shocked as he begins to stammer through an apology. 

“I-. I’m sorry I-. I didn’t mean to-.” 

He scrambles to help you, with one cocktail napkin as you push him away, your friends rushing to your side. 

“No! I don’t want your help,” you grit through a clenched jaw. 

“Shit, your shirt is ruined… C’mon,” Liz says, as she ushers you away shooting a glare in Carmy’s direction. 

“Damn, man. You could just ask her out,” you can hear Nate say, even though you’re too preoccupied with examining the damage of your totally soaked through t-shirt. 

So much for a chill evening. 

“Oh shut up, Nate,” Maya snaps at the sous. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” You nod, following her as she leads you away towards the bathroom. 

Back at the bar, Liz is trying her best to remedy the situation, trying her best to clean up the mess you left behind. She watches Carmy closely, trying to figure out whether she’s going to pay for this tomorrow. But instead of being angry, he just seems embarrassed… remorseful, even. There’s a small part of her that feels bad for the guy as it becomes clearer that he may just not be great in social situations.

As soon as you get to the single-room bathroom, you're swearing loudly and stripping off your shirt. It’s completely see through and you know you’re going to smell like a distillery until you can get home to shower. 

“I told you. He hates me,” you pout, examining your reflection in the mirror, a scowl glued to your face. You dap a few dry paper towels across your chest.

“I think it was just an accident, sweetie,” Maya says, sympathetically, as she tries her best to console you. 

“Yeah, I know,” you admit in defeat.

As much as you’d like to blame this on him, you know it wasn’t his fault. 

“Sorry I asked you to come tonight. If I knew it would be this much drama-,” you begin, before being promptly cut off. 

“Oh no, I’m all here for this drama,” she laughs, causing you to shake your head and lighten up a little about the situation.

As angry as you’d like to be with Carmy, you know that the truth of the matter is that he hadn’t meant to spill his drink all over you. You should be mad at Nate and Tim… but it just feels easier to be mad at Carmy considering. 

“Incoming!” you hear a voice say as Liz arrives. In her hands, she holds what looks like a white t-shirt, neatly folded up, that she hands to you. “Anyone in need of dry clothes?”

“Oh thank god,” you sigh with relief, glady taking it. 

“Good on you for having an extra,” Maya says. 

“Well, it’s a restaurant. You never know when you’re gonna need a change of clothes,” Liz shrugs, a glimmer in her eyes that Maya notices, as she says it. You find it a little strange that she seems to be watching you for a reaction, but you brush off the look she sends you, as you slide the dry t-shirt over your head.

The t-shirt isn’t much bigger than an oversized fit you’d buy for yourself – which makes sense because Liz is a bit taller than you. The cotton fabric hangs loosely over your form as your eyes flicker over to your completely soaked through shirt that lays crumpled up on the bathroom sink. 

“Well, ladies. We did our best,” you resign yourself, as you notice your still-very-wet bra begin soaking through the white t-shirt. 

“C’mon. Let’s see if we can get some more paper towels. Or uh.. See if the kitchen has a towel we can use,” Liz says, nodding her head towards the door. 

“We’ll be right back,” Maya reassures you, empathy in her eyes.

You watch as Liz follows her, leaving you alone in the bathroom. 

It doesn’t take long for the door to the bathroom to swing open again, which surprises you. You gasp as soon as you see who's come through the door, and you’re crossing your arms over your chest which may only make the wet bra, white t-shirt ordeal even worse. A very flustered Carmy stands in the doorway, his mouth hanging open as if he hadn’t expected you to be in here. 

“There’s uh… someone in here,” you scoff, unable to hide the irritation in the sound of your voice. You hug your arms closer to yourself, almost as if to cover yourself up. 

“No I-, yeah, I know I just-,” he stammers, his eyes shifting to the floor. He feels like he’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and he can feel all the blood rushing to his face, instantly regretting his decision not to knock first. 

“I actually, uh… I came to apologize,” he manages to get out, his words quiet. He says it as if there’s an unintentional question mark at the end of his sentence. You can see the way he runs his eyes back and forth, trailing over the fancy floor tile, searching for the right words. 

“I didn’t mean to- I just-. Sorry…”

His demeanor surprises you. At work, Carmy’s this confident, commandeering, talented chef, but tonight, he seems anything but.

Nervous. Shy. Like a fish out of water, even.

You take a breath, trying your best to relax.

You can feel some of your guard coming down as you begin to accept he really hadn’t meant to spill his drink on you. But you’re not eager to forget the fact that he’s been kind of an asshole to you since you started working here. Unsure of how to respond, you give literal effort to replying with a:

“It’s fine. Thanks.”

He knows you don’t mean it. 

In fact, he can hear how painful it is for you to get out those words. 

You wait for him to leave, but Carmy continues to stand in the bathroom with you, awkwardly. But he doesn’t say anything, so you figure that the least you can do is deflect a little with humor. 

“I’ll uh-, invoice you for the therapy session,” you say, trying to eliminate any malice in your tone so that he knows you’re joking. “Walking home in a wet shirt on the streets of NYC is gonna be… fun.”

“Oh uh…” he trails off, his face turning a darker shade of red. 

“I’m kidding,” you state, searching his face for any kind of expression. 

This man is impossible to read, you think to yourself.

His eyes are still glued to the floor as he begins to move, mumbling something you can’t quite hear in response to your failed joke. Carmy slides out of the denim jacket he’s wearing, before taking hold of it, extending an arm out to you. 

“Sorry um-. Here,” he says nervously, and it’s the first time he’s allowed his eyes to meet yours. “You can uh-. You can wear this. For your walk home.”

Well, that wasn’t what you were expecting. 

And had his eyes always been that blue?

Your face softens. 

You take the jacket hesitantly, holding it in your hands. This time you mean it when you say:

“Thanks.”

“Least I could do,” he shrugs, daring to meet your eyes with his again. 

You slip the jacket over your shoulders as the two of you stand a few feet apart. The air feels thick, and at this point, you’re not sure how to feel. Even though your bra has continued to soak through the white t-shirt, the way his denim jacket feels wrapped around your shoulders feels like an added layer of protection.

“After uh-. You know I-,” he stumbles through.

“Yeah. No I uh-. Thanks, again,” you repeat, cutting him off. 

Might as well put the poor guy out of his misery. 

“Anyways, I’ll make sure to get this back to you,” you interject, your voice much more reassuring this time. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

You swear you can almost see the corner of his lips turn up, but you’ve never really seen him smile, so it’s not like you have much to compare it to. Carmy excuses himself, and you watch as he leaves, genuinely grateful for the peace offering. 

The way that Carmy’s jacket hangs heavily around your shoulders makes you wonder if it’s real denim. You notice that it smells like him too: a faint scent of cigarettes, Old Spice deodorant, whatever scented laundry detergent he uses that feels familiar. 

You and Carmy don’t speak again, save for a few short exchanges at work, but he’s been on your mind. Your interaction the other night had left an impression on you – albeit a strange one – and you’re not sure why you haven’t returned his jacket yet. 

It’s not till a few days later that you speak again, leaving another strange impression on you. You head into the walk-in to get a few quarts of heavy cream and as you pull the door open, you find a flustered Carmy standing there. He’s got his hands on his hips and eyes glued to the floor with an exasperated look on his face as he watches the plastic storage containers he’s just thrown clamor across the floor. You gasp, shocked by the loud sounds, and Carmy knows he’s not alone. 

As he turns to you with a glare on his face, you notice that Carmy’s eyes are puffy, his cheeks flushed red, and he looks sick as a dog. 

His eyes are wide with embarrassment for a moment, before returning to their normal, stoic focus, hardened by a less than positive interaction with the exec chef. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, uncomfortably. He gestures towards the storage containers on the floor, before running a hand through his neatly slicked back hair. 

“It’s uh, you’re good, chef,” you say, trying your best to put your wall of professionalism up. 

You had witnessed the demeaning encounter from the exec chef – everyone had. It had been impossible not to. He’d practically breathed down Carmy’s neck, taunting him for his lack of focus today, that he’s a little bitch for letting allergies get to him. 

To say that the man was emotionally abusive would be an understatement. 

You should leave – turn and go, and pretend that this never happened – that you’d seen nothing. But instead, you stay. 

“You good, chef?” you ask softly, a hint of concern in your voice.

He sniffles again, the searing headache that robs him of his focus only burning brighter after what just happened. 

“Yeah, no. I’m fine,” he snaps, refusing to look at you. 

You wait for him to say something more, only he doesn’t. You can see he’s not feeling well and that he must be feeling worse after his metaphorical public stoning in the town square. He’s not sure what the hell it is you’re waiting for, and he just needs another fucking second to himself. 

“Why are you still here?” he grits through teeth, his eyes fixed to the floor. 

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re honestly not sure why you’re still in the walk-in with him either. 

Maybe because you know that the exec chef is a total monster.

That he shouldn’t have talked to Carmy like that. 

That you can understand why he’d be upset. 

“Chef!” he says, raising his voice a little louder and flinging his hands towards the door. “Will you just-?”

You nod, a feeling of embarrassment filling your chest, as you realize he wants you to leave. You hurry out of the walk-in, closing the door behind you as you escape, your heavy cream quart containers in hand. 

“You good?” Liz asks, as soon as she sees you come out of the walk-in. She’s passing by to bring a few deli containers over to the dish station. 

“What?” you ask back in surprise, unaware that you look visibly shaken up.

“You look… flustered is all,” she points out. 

“Oh. Yeah. I just uh-, Carmy’s in there. Throwing a fit. He just uh… snapped at me is all. But what’s new?” you reply, trying your best to shake it off. 

She rolls her eyes in response, “Yeah, he can be like that. Thank your lucky stars that you don’t have to work under him.”

You let out an annoyed exhale. It’s a funny feeling – one that leaves you a little confused: one minute he’s this chivalrous guy that’s handing you his jacket to wear home and the next he’s practically tearing your head off to get out of the walk-in. You can’t quite figure him out. He’s so hot and cold, you’re not sure what to expect from him anymore. 

As you and Liz are about to part ways, you remember that you have to give her back her borrowed shirt. 

“Oh!” you say, calling her attention before she returns to her station. 

“I have your shirt, by the way,” you say. “From the other night.”

“Oh,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “Okay weird timing considering he’s being such an asshole today but uh…. Yeah. The shirt’s... not mine. I forgot to tell you.”

You send her a puzzled look as she shrugs. 

“I didn’t think you’d take it if I told you but… it’s Carmy’s. He pulled it out of his bag when he spilled the drink on you,” she informs, waiting to gauge your reaction.

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“You were so mad at him that I just figured-, it doesn't matter. He pulled it out of his bag to give to you. I think he felt really fucking bad, babe,” she interjects, revealing the truth. 

Well now you’re really fucking confused. 

And after your little interaction with him in the walk-in, there’s no way you’re going to bring it up to him today. 

“Oh. Yeah um, got it,” you reply, feeling even more confused than when you started the day. 

You show up to work the next day with the t-shirt and his jacket tucked into a canvas tote bag you plan on giving to Carmy. You’d decided to wait till you had them both, and you’re also hoping that he’s in a better mood today. 

Only, Carmy’s not here today. 

“Yeah, he’s out sick. Looks like those allergies turned out to be a nasty head cold,” your general manager had informed you when you’d asked about where Carmy was. “Looks like Tim’s filling in today for him.”

“Got it. Thanks, Kate” you’d replied. 

Later on your mid-shift break, you’d then mustered up all the courage possible to ask if anyone had checked in on Carmy. Kate, your GM, had answered no, and had been more than happy to give you his address so that you could do so. You’re not sure why you feel like it’s the right thing to do, but between his act of kindness at the bar, and his outburst in the walk-in yesterday, you figure it wouldn’t hurt to show him a little kindness. Not that you feel like you owe him or anything. 

Maybe you just want to give him his clothes back and be done with it. 

Maybe you’re also deeply confused about who the hell Carmen Berzatto really is. 

Maybe the mystery of it intrigues you a little more than you’d like to admit.

Dinner service flies by quickly – a string of non-stop orders helps the time go faster. Carmy’s apartment is on your way home, so it’s a no-brainer to make the trip. You stop on your way at a deli nearby, picking up a quart of matzo ball soup, before heading over to his apartment. 

When you get there, you knock on the door three times, anxiety beginning to flood you.

What if he thinks this is totally creepy – that you just got his address from the general manager? What if he thinks you’re stalking him? What if he hates the fact that you’re even there in the first place? 

You wonder if you should just leave the soup at the door and run as fast as you can so that, by the time he answers the door, you’re gone. 

Just as you’re bending down to place the quart container down by his door, the door swings open to reveal a very congested Carmy. His curls seem wilder than normal as he looks genuinely surprised to see you crouching in the hall of his apartment. 

“Hi!” you practically shout, taken off guard as you rise to your feet. 

“Yo,” he says, blinking a few times to make sure he’s not dreaming. “What’s uh-, what’s going on?”

It’s weird – seeing Carmy outside of the restaurant, outside of his chef whites. His usually slicked back, out-of-his-face hair falls in the messiest most unruly curls around his face in a way that's surprisingly unkempt. He’s… almost human-like. 

“This is for you,” is all you manage to say, handing him the quart container. 

“Uh… thanks,” he trails off, taking it and checking out the matzo ball soup. 

You’re not sure where to begin, how to explain why the hell you’re here, so you just start talking. 

“I uh… your place was on the way home,” you begin. “I hope it’s okay but I got your address from Kate. I actually used to go to this deli all the time when I was a kid with my parents and I forgot that it was in your neighborhood so I just figured that I should pick something up on the way over since I heard you were sick and uh-.”

Carmy shoots you a look and he almost looks amused. 

“... I’m rambling, aren’t I?” you ask, a light blush running across your cheeks. 

“Yeah,” he nods, a dry laugh following.

You wait a beat, collecting yourself. You’re not sure why this is so weird, but it’s so weird. 

“I came by because…” you start, digging through your canvas tote bag that’s draped across your right shoulder. “... I wanted to return these to you.” 

You hold out the jacket and t-shirt folded up together to Carmy, his eyes following them. 

“Liz told me that the shirt was yours too. I just-, I know we don’t always… that you don’t-, I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I know it’s kind of weird at work sometimes but… I guess  I just wanted to say thank you. For these. Hence the soup,” you finally explain.

“No problem,” Carmy nods, taking them in his empty hand, before disappearing momentarily to place them somewhere inside of his apartment.  

You’re only a little disappointed by his short response, yet you’re not sure you expected anything else. He returns only seconds later.

“It’s uh-, Cool jacket,” you say. You can’t tell whether you’re making small talk or just saying something out of discomfort, but it seems to pique Carmy’s interest. 

“It actually reminds me of the denim jacket that John Lennon used to wear ”

“You know denim?” he asks, and you could swear that you see his eyes light up for a moment. 

“No, but I know music,” you reply. 

“Uh I mean. Yeah. It is…” he says, with a nod, a hint of excitement in the words that follow. “Not the actual one he wore but… it’s a 1950s selvedge Wrangler. Just like Lennon.”

So he wasn’t just a fine-dining robot. 

“Wow I didn’t know you were into all that,” you say, feeling some of the tension between the two of you melt. “Denim, I mean.”

“Something I picked up from my brother, I guess,” he shrugs, shyly. 

“That’s funny,” you chuckle. 

“Hm?” he hums in response. 

“Just… the thought of you having a brother,” you clarify, jokingly. “Thought you were like… grown in a lab at noma or something.”

And Carmy almost smiles, you think.

“Nope. Just Chicago,” he replies, enjoying the act of sharing something with you. 

“Ahhh,” you sound, following it up with another small laugh. “Well, I’ll let you get some rest. Enjoy the soup.”

“Yeah, uh. Thanks for this,” he says, holding up the brown bag. 

“Of course,” you reply, turning to go. 

But you don’t go yet, not ready to let go of the momentary connection you’ve built with Carmy 

"You know it doesn’t have to be like this,” you say, turning back to him. He's staring at you, just like he does in the kitchen. It’s another long, languid look that makes you realize that maybe they haven’t been hate-glares after all.

“We don't have to do this... start over every time we see each other.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree with a nod. “I mean, I've already worn your clothes so… it’s a rather… intimate thing for us to just be strangers….”

He listens attentively. 

"We could… coworkers… friends, even,” you suggest, hesitantly.

“Me and you?” he asks, a puzzled look on his face. You’re not sure if he’s surprised by what you’ve said, or if he’s about to laugh in your face. 

“If you want,” you nod in response. 

He waits a beat, and you watch his facial expressions soften a little as he finally says, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You smile at him, the man you thought hated you, wants to be friends with you. You get a wicked idea, letting out a chuckle before continuing. 

“Great. There’s just one thing,” you begin playfully.

You can’t help yourself.

“Hm?” he hums. 

“It’s just… I haven’t made my mind up about you. So you should consider this your trial period, buddy,” you tease. 

He lets out a dry laugh, “Like a stage?”

Of course it’s all kitchen-related for him.

You laugh in response, “Yeah, like a stage.”

“Heard, chef.”

“Goodnight, Carmy.”

Carmy’s never had someone joke with him so sweetly. Between his family and, well, Richie… it’s always been callous humor and insults thrown back and forth lovingly. This feels… different: lighter.

As he watches you walk away, he looks down at the deli quart container that he holds in his hand. He’s never had anyone take care of him before – not like this – someone who wasn’t Sugar or Mikey, and certainly not his Mom. Not like this. Not without asking for anything in return. He can’t seem to identify the warm feeling that rushes through him, and wonders, for a moment, if this is what it feels like to fall in love. 

Not that he’s ever experienced that either.

By Saturday, he’s back to work and feeling much better (the soup definitely helps, he decides) but it’s not for another week that he musters up the courage to ask you what you’re doing between lunch and dinner service. 

“Chef!” he calls out to you as you’re cleaning up your station.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you reply. 

It’s not like you’ve been all buddy-buddy and friendly over the last week, but you’ve at least stopped thinking that he hates you. Sure you’ve decided to be friends, but it’s not like you’d expected wildly different behavior. 

“You uh… wanna grab a cup of coffee? On the break, I mean,” he asks, his blue eyes seeming… more brilliant than you’ve ever noticed. 

“I owe you one. You know. For the soup.”

You smile, “Yeah. I’d uh-, I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Yeah.”

read: chapter two

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

[atinylittlepain]

We make ends meet

Introduction: I'm Gin. Early 20s. College student. Yoga teacher.

fic masterlist

Joel Miller

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Dio Morrissey

Dieter Bravo

Carmen Berzatto

Gator Tillman

Rust Cohle

2K celebration baby fics list

(my favorite post that i'm saving here so i can access it whenever i want to)

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

All Shook Up

You Eat Yet? | Masterlist | You Got a Minute?

Pairing: Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto x Reader

Rating: M (though it may have explicit chapters in the future)

Notes: Welcome back! I hope y’all are having a nice week!❣️ Also no worries, there’s another chapter incoming, it just doesn’t have a name yet.

Warnings: ...Angst. Soz. Stubborn reader.

Summary: The other three drinks you’re tasked with presenting have to be abso-fuckin-lutely on point. And for better or for worse, getting it right becomes a bit of an obsession. And you can go with a couple of standards that you’ve had, but you want one to be just yours.

Mack frames it as a trial—as if he’s never seen your specials bring in money. Still, it’s a step in the right direction—a show of interest, and a sign that he wants to bring Barky’s into the 21st fucking century. 

So you start fiddling with recipes when you’re home. You already know you’re going to put the slow gin fizz up for consideration. It’s a little time-consuming, sure, but considering how much it paid out the last time it was on the menu, you can justify it to Mack. 

The other three drinks you’re tasked with presenting have to be abso-fuckin-lutely on point. And for better or for worse, getting it right becomes a bit of an obsession. And you can go with a couple of standards that you’ve had, but you want one to be just yours.

-- 

“Babe,” Carmy groans from your couch. 

“...What?” You call back after a moment. 

“C’mere, c’mon. Siddown.” 

“In a minute.” 

You hear Carmy sigh, then grunt again as he pushes himself off to stand.

“You said that twenty minutes ago.” 

Your eyes are set on the shaker as you add some vodka to the shaker. One…Two…Pop! You draw the bottle away with a jerk of your wrist, setting it aside and reaching for the cinnamon. Your hand hesitates over the container, eyes narrowing slightly before you shake your head a bit to yourself. Add that to the rum, if anything…Or you could try a cinnamon syrup…Cinnamon syrup, that would be better. You turn, crouching down and beginning to rifle through your cabinet for a small pot. 

"Babe."

“...Yeah? No, this’ll only take me like, less than ten minutes,” You reassure, straightening up. “I’ll be there in a bit.” 

Carmy doesn’t answer. Or—well, maybe he does, but you’re in your head, getting down the cinnamon sticks and sugar. 

-- 

It has been at least an hour. Your head is killing you, you’re tired, and your eyes are crossing—but you’ve got it down, you know you’ve got it down. 

“Can you come here and try this?” You call out. Your kitchen smells heavenly—sugary and light, with only a mingling of alcohol under it. You glance over as you hear the floor creak. 

“C’mere, take a sip,” You urge. Carmy takes a few steps closer. He takes hold of the proffered glass. You watch, stomach tingling with anticipation as he takes a whiff, processes, then takes a sip. You bite your lips, brows raising as he hesitates, then swallows. 

“Good?” You ask, nodding, “Right?” 

“...Yeah,” He agrees…But he says it in a way that doesn’t seem like he quite buys it. Your brows lower and furrow, a frown taking over your lips. 

“What?” You ask, immediately defensive. “What’s wrong with it?” 

“Nothing is wrong with it,” Carmy insists, peering down between the glass and your face. “It’s just…It’s too much.” 

“What?” 

“It’s too sweet.” 

“Oh—Please,” You scoff. “That’s such a guy thing to say. What, you don’t like it, 'cause it's a girly drink?"

“No! I did not say that. It just—It needs something to balance it. A few dashes of bitters.” 

“Oh, sure,” You scoff, turning from him, “Thanks, great advice from someone that’s not a bartender.” 

“I may not be a bartender, but I know how to create a flavor profile that fucking works.” 

“Yeah, you know what, great. Thanks for the feedback,” You agree dryly, beginning to clean your counter before looking at Carmen. He watches you with an almost blank cruelty, eyes searching your face.

“You don’t think I know what the fuck I’m talking about.”

“When’s the last time you drank a sandwich, Berzatto.” 

The two of you stare one another down icily before Carmy wordlessly slams the drink down on the counter, the remaining liquid sloshing over the side before he turns. He shakes the few drops that landed on his hand off as he heads for the door. You don’t stop him; you just stare at the back of his head as he goes, irritation roiling through you. “Some bitters,” You scoff to yourself as the door slams shut behind him. “Some bitters.” You take a sip of the drink, hesitate, then turn away. You start making the drink again, grumbling all the while. 

“Tell me to add some bitters, like someone made him the fucking king of fucking bartending—bitters. Guy learns one fucking thing at smart guy chef school and thinks he can do my job better.” You add bitters to the shaker before slap the top on it. You take it up, shaking it with a renewed vitriol. You strain it into a fresh glass. 

“Add some bitters, like he’s got a perfect fucking pallet, like he knows—” You pause in your rant to raise the glass to your lips. You take a sniff and go still, stomach flipping with fear. But—No. No. This is your area of expertise. You know what you're talking about—he doesn't.

You take a sip and you…Freeze. 

Goddamnit. Fuck. Fuck—

You spit it into the sink, pouring out the rest of the mixture and dropping the glass as you hiss:

“Son of a bitch!”  

Tag list: @bobawithpomegranate ; @brandyllyn ;  @artemiseamoon  ; @amneris21 ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @backoff-imreading​ ; @quietpainter ; @milf-trinity ; @distinguishedfilipina ; @peoniarose​ ; @missredherring​ ; @estrela-rogers​ ; @silkiers​ ; @sammiekay01​ ; @velmalav​ ; @themartiansdaughter​ ; @eddiemunson4ever​  ; @whoahoney​ ; @wittyno​ ; @winchestershiresauce ; @artaxerxesthegreat

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Runaway - Chapter Seventeen.

Bloody hell, you guys got to those thirty notes quickly, didn’t you? Thank you so much for your engagement! I really love reading through all your comments, and I concur with you all, too. They’re bad, but I’m sorry, you will all be despairing of them for a while yet. But, that does mean to get smut, so I guess it evens out, doesn’t it? :D 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 1,734

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“All I’ve been able to think about all morning is coming up here and getting to watch this perfect fuckin’ ass bounce on me. Mmmmm, shit, darlin’.”

That deep grit of a groan, his voice gone to gravel entirely as he clutched her ass cheeks in a firm grip, releasing one to spank it hard, sent a bonfire of lust burning straight through Hannah, riding him reverse cowgirl on the couch during her work break. Some people chose a sandwich; she chose an outlaw with a nine-inch cock.  

An affair. To say it was anything less at that point, ten days after they’ve first had sex would be a complete lie. They had no idea where it was going, if anywhere at all, their mouths buttoned where actually communicating it with each other was concerned, focusing solely on the thrill of it.  

Because it was thrilling. Make no mistake.  

“How’d you want to finish?” she panted, looking back over her shoulder with a smouldering pout, winking at him. “Deep in my pussy, all over my tits, or in my mouth?”  

His eyes closed tightly for a second, his jaw twitching. God, she was such a temptress when she was getting fucked. He enjoyed it so much, the different parts that made up Hannah Gray. An elegant lady in business, a buddy on the couch with drinks and snacks while screaming at the football game on TV, and an absolute freak in the sheets.  

“In your mouth, so back that fine assed little pussy right on up here so I can make you cum in mine, too.” He grabbed her hips, towing her towards his face, his lips wrapping her soaking slit in a strong suck as he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat, spanking her again hard, her lily-white ass red from the handprints he’d left behind.  

He ate her like a starving animal, groaning the entire time, hand pounding her so hard combined with his cock rooted so deep in her throat, her eyes streamed, her hand cupping his balls as she felt glimmers rushing up her spine, a bolt of pure, white-hot and fever rich pleasure consuming her, his cock flooding her mouth a second later.  

That was Wednesday. On Saturday, with Lola staying over with her granny Val, Hannah at a loose end and Carmen away with her sister, Manny saw a surprise walk into the clubhouse at just gone 8pm.  

“Dude, the fuckin’ blonde who just walked up in here. Premium hottie, man,” Gilly spoke, giving Manny several digs in the side with his elbow.  

Manny turned, his grin widening when he saw Hannah there, looking gorgeous, dressed in all black other than the pair of deep pink heels upon her pretty feet. “Y’all need to chill, mano. That’s my baby mama.” Sliding from the barstool as she approached, he felt his heart racing. God, she was so effortlessly beautiful, her eyes accentuated with a smudge of dark kohl, her cheeks soft pink and glossy, the scent of her fluttering under his nose. Peonies.  

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”  

Hannah tilted her head back, her throat flexing in a way that made him want to immediately take a tour of her swan-like neck with his mouth. “Casablanca, huh?”

“Hell yeah. Bogart was a straight up G.” He looked her up and down, dark eyes burning through the feathery concealment of the longest eyelashes she’d ever witnessed, her pulse flickering rapidly. “So, what can I do for you tonight, Hannah banana?”  

She stepped closer, her hands reaching for his flannel, pulling him close, her lips ghosting the outer edge of his ear, sending a pleasant chill right through him. “I need you to take me somewhere, bend me over, and give me every last inch of that perfect cock.”  

He always did appreciate it when a woman got right to the point. “I think that can be arranged.” He nodded to the doors, Hannah taking the lead, his attention attracted by a nearby Angel and Lily, the latter letting out a piercing wolf whistle.  

“Quit it,” he warned through a burst of laughter.

“Make me!” she chirped, waving. “Hey, Hannah!”

“Hiya.” she called, waving back, a little embarrassed as the rest of the guys caught on, jeering, slapping tables, adding a few more choruses of whistles. They knew the score. No one walked in looking as smoking as Hannah had if all she wanted from the father of her child was a casual chat. 

Some might think it deplorable, to encourage Manny’s blatant cheating on his fiancée, but much like Hannah’s loved ones with Michael, none of them could stand Carmen. Also, they didn’t consider it their business to chastise him. He’d gotten himself into this, it was up to him to get himself out. 

Walking across the yard, Manny felt the blood rushing to his cock just from watching the smooth glide of her gait and the sensual roll of her hips, watching as she turned, biting her lower lip.

“So, where are we going?”

He didn’t reply in words, ducking down and throwing her over his shoulder, Hannah squeaking as he carried her in the direction of the office, rooting in his kutte pocket for his bunch of keys. The ache of arousal had her flooding her underwear before he’d even set her down on the other side, Manny kicking the door shut, his mouth upon hers as soon as she’d slid from his shoulder, impatient hands unfastening her tight, black jeans.  

Stealing his mouth from hers, he turned her roughly, yanking her jeans and undies to her knees before he pushed her down over the counter, pulling his cock free and bending to reach her, rubbing the head of his hardness through the warm silk of her slit.  

“Yeah, is that what you want?”  

Her breath hitched tight in her throat, sparks skittering through her clit as hard, hot heat rubbed over it. “Please, don’t tease me. Just fuck me.” Her mouth dropped open at feeling him slide into her fully, Manny realising the vast height difference would work against them, his hands grasping her hips and lifting her, holding her little body with ease as he began to thrust into her with long, firm strokes.  

It was ebullience dipped in raw lust, her fingers curling around the counter as she was shunted across it with the power of his cock hitting her summit again and again, her walls clenching around him, bathing him in the warm wet of her cunt, Manny watching his cock become slicker with every thrust, the lights from the yard providing just enough illumination to see her dew sparkling on his shaft, his short nails leaving crescents upon her hips as they dug in, his pounding merciless, torrid, exactly what she needed.  

Each snap of his hips had her mumbling in incoherence, choked pleas tumbling from her lips as he dragged the velvet clasp of her, hitting a spot deep within that lit her up, igniting her pleasure, his groans all smoke and rasp. His thighs tensed, his abs quaking as he felt her flutter around him, his hips stuttering as he spilled into her, hot ropes of cum flooding her quivering walls as her voice broke upon a shrill cry. Colours bloomed behind her closed eyelids, her light gleaming over the dark horizon of her lover, leaving her fighting for breath.

“Holy fuck,” he panted, resting his head between her shoulders.  

“Right?” she exclaimed, still dizzy from the burst of her orgasm. “We’re the best at sex.”

“Damned straight.” He put her down, sliding from within her with a slippery pop, fastening himself back into his jeans, Hannah noticing the restroom and going to make use. Once straightened out, she walked back to him, his arms encircling her waist as he pulled her close, leaning to kiss her. “For making me cum so fucking hard, I feel like I’m about to pass out, let me get you a drink.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” she agreed. “Only one, though. I’m driving.” He nodded, walking back out and locking the office behind them, heading back into the clubhouse and a scene of complete hilarity, at the expense of one Coco Cruz.

“I swear to god, Jodie. If you get any of your baby soup on me, imma go ape shit!” he protested, Hannah witnessing the sight of Jodie walking up and down, stopping every so often with a pained face. She then moved to sit on his lap, bearing down with a grimace, Coco aghast as she laughed at his disgust. “EZ! Control your wife, homes!”

His friend shrugged, sipping his soda. “She’s gone four days overdue, she’s past the point of control now.”  

Hannah took her drink from Manny, reaching to touch a hand to Jodie’s shoulder as she heaved herself up again. “It’s Jodie, right?”

“Yes, hi!” she confirmed, giving her a little hug. “You’re Hannah, aren’t you?”

“I am, and I have advice. If you want your waters to break, get your man to take you home and straight to bed. I went overdue with Lola, and while I didn’t have anyone to do that for me, the other mothers who were in the maternity unit at the same time as I assured me that sex was a great way to speed things up. You having Braxton Hicks or anything?”

“I’ve been having contractions all afternoon, but they aren’t speeding up, or going away, so I think I am I labour opposed to them being false, but they told me to only come in if my waters break or they begin to become more regular. I’m tired, I’m uncomfortable and I just want him out now!”

Hannah nodded in understanding. “I hear you, girl. You feel like someone fed you three gallons of laxatives and sewed your butt up, right?”  

“Oh, yeah. That’s exactly it!” She then winced, her hands flapping. “Contraction.”

Grabbing her hand, Hannah reached to rub her lower back. “Breathe deep, in for six, out for eight, repeat. There you go.”  

Manny couldn’t help but notice it, how swiftly and seamlessly Hannah had blended into his world. The difference between her and Carmen was like night and day, and it wasn’t lost on him at all. Not even for a second.

[themanhattanfoodproject]

I’ve been on a tomato kick for the last few weeks because they’re on sale at my local Whole Foods, so I’m making all of the tomato-based things right now. I know Molly Baz was all about the gin tomato martini earlier this summer (totally valid!), but having just come back from Playa del Carmen and having enjoyed a lot of tomato-tequila drinks, I’ve been feeling this combination a lot lately.

I used green heirloom tomatoes--hence the color of the drink--and all it took was a good 60 minutes of letting tomato chunks sit with some kosher salt, lime zest, and a splash of extra virgin olive oil, and you’ll get enough liquid for two cocktails.

More to come on this later this week!

[elsweetheart]

hi kittie!! do you have any lana song recs for a new fan? <3

oh gosh!!! depends what u are into!!! to cover the bases, i’ll rec my favs off each album <3

unreleased:

serial killer, jealous girl, bbm baby, prom song gone wrong, smarty, puppy love, ridin, pink champagne, st tropez party girl, hollywoods dead, slo gin fizz, every man gets his wish

born to die:

diet mountain dew, radio, national anthem, carmen, this is what makes us girls

paradise:

american, body electric, gods & monsters, ride

ultraviolence

literally every song there isn’t a single skip on that album EVER (fav song is west coast though)

honeymoon

high by the beach, freak, art deco, religion, salvatore, swan song

lust for life

cherry, lust for life, summer bummer, groupie love, in my feelings, god bless america, when the world as at war we kept dancing, get free (tbh i love every single song on this album too)

norman fucking rockwell

norman fucking rockwell, venice bitch, doin time, cinnamon girl, how to disappear, happiness is a butterfly

chemtrails over the country club

chemtrails over the country club, tulsa jesus freak, yosemite

blue bannisters

interlude- the trio (😭), dealer, thunder, living legend

did you know that there’s a tunnel under ocean blvd

a&w, paris texas, let the light in, fishtail, margaret, peppers, taco truck x vb

[bageltheabductee]

Time for my epic backstory

Long time ago my mother, Louise Farley, won the lottery and took her husband, Joey Farley, to Hawaii, where they chose to stay. They lived their life in luxury and drank plenty of gin and wine. Suddenly, my mother was taken to the hospital due to what she THOUGHT was a broken hand (she just had a bruised palm with a single broke nail). Just for the doctors to deliver me. My parents decided to name me Everything Bagel as a joke and sent me to live with my Aunt Carmen in Highland. She barely did shit for me except leave me food in the fridge. When I was 7 she hopped in her car and never came back, leaving me alone for about 6 years until I was abducted. These aliens are surprisingly the things that care about me tk most. That’s cool I guess

[holywaterinmybong]

Guilt, Lust and Self Control

—

Same shit happens every morning

Because I got no control

Over myself or what I do

And lust remains but guilt comes through

That night I walked

The lights were blue

Last time I ran away from you

But that’s the old me

Two whole fortnights

Can change a man entirely

But now your drink untied your tongue

And your usual shyness gone

No one will ever know you

But you sure do know everyone

“Carmen, Carmen”

Fully gone

Blacked out, black eye, black hole sun

Black tar H and black sheep son

Got black jeans and a black gun

Blacked out target on my side

no one gets to stab my back

Cause what had broke can’t break again

So you won’t hear my knuckles crack

I’m undercover

Under the covers of your bed

The way I lie there

Try to sleep

Not think ‘bout books I haven’t read

Not think about wasted potential

I’ll dream of redemption

Have nightmares about

Lacking needed credentials

For something that’s coming

That I’ll have to live through

The steep career ladder

Ink in your tattoo

Cause I can’t be a concept

If it’s too taboo

Got shit to feel guilt for

Got so much to do

Told my mom I don’t have friends

Cause they keep on catching feelings

Went away and found myself

Once more talking to the ceiling

It’s just me against the world

Tht seems to love me so damn much

I got whatever I could want

Overwhelming to the touch

Overwhelming to the other

Senses that I still possess

Am I still hungover?

Full time living in this mess

Am I still myself or was that taken by my guilt

Punch down, punch out

Lick the floor

To save the gin you spilt

Still undercover

Under my own covers

Prayers go out to the kids with shit fathers

Cause why are my last words each day something vengeful

An idiots game that I play with both handfuls

Of cash I got left

From some plan of some trip

My greatest thoughts die with me in my sleep

[perfectly-intoxicated]

‘ 𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙞 𝙖𝙢… ’ — rihanna

‘ 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬. ’ — lady gaga

‘ 𝙞 𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩. ’ — dove cameron

‘ 𝘪'𝘮 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯! ’ — carmen mcrae

‘ 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥. ’ — idkhbtfm

‘ 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. ’ — gin wigmore

[aletheapierce]

{ NATASHA LIU BORDIZZO, 21, GENDER NONCONFORMING, SHE/THEY } Is that ALETHEA PIERCE? A SENIOR originally from SAVANNAH, GA, they decided to come to Ogden College to study DANCE. They’re THE DRAG-ALONG on campus, but even they could get blamed for Greer’s disappearance.

no one ever really likes me for more than just a couple weeks...

NAME: alethea ivy pierce NICKNAMES: none, thea to a select few BIRTHDAY: february 23, 2002 ZODIAC: pisces sun, scorpio rising, aquarius moon SEXUALITY: bisexual RELIGION: ceo methodist (christmas & easter only) THREE POSITIVE TRAITS: idealistic, hospitable, wholesome THREE NEGATIVE TRAITS: paranoid, indecisive, timid THREE SKILLS: fluent in french, calligraphy, detailed-oriented ENNEAGRAM: 9w1 MYERS-BRIGGS: intj EXTRACURRICULARS: ballet company, tri-del (member)

AESTHETIC: pink painted nails, tucking hair behind your ears, off-distant stares, shy smiles, hollowed looks, books in tote bags, quiet giggles, leaning in when intrigued, earbuds, furiously scribbling in journals, waking up with tears, monsters chasing you in dreams, warm tea and milk, a cookie crumbling in your hand, barefoot on hardwood floors, watching the sunset alone

CHARACTER INSPO: nina sayers (black swan), georgiana darcy (pride & prejudice), jaz sinclair (caos), betty cooper (riverdale). myrtha (giselle), daisy buchanan (the great gatsby), juliet capulet (romeo & juliet), lady edith crawley (downton abbey), betty elms (muholland drive), andy bernard (the office), harriet smith (emma)

LIKES: ballet, taylor swift, dresses, gin and tonics, daydreaming, sparkles, quietly reading, the wind through her hair DISLIKES: stares, having to answer questions, being alone, being in crowds, people yelling, being judged

FAVORITE MOVIES/TV: the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, shrek, black swan, the secret life of walter mitty, gilmore girls, dance academy, big fish, all the boys love many lane, fleabag FAVORITE BOOKS: six of crows, the invisible life of addie larue, on earth we’re briefly gorgeous, pride and prejudice, the uglies series FAVORITE ARTISTS: halsey, taylor swift, lizzy mcalpine, nicholas britell, hans zimmer, chelsea cutler, phoebe bridgers FAVORITE BALLETS: giselle, firebird, la sylphide, carmen

FAMILY: mother - jennifer tiner pierce (katheryn winnick) father - carl sile pierce (daniel wu) younger brother - hu jacob pierce (kazuma mitchell)

pinterest here, playlist here.

WHEN ALL THE BRIDGES HAVE BEEN BURNED:

jennifer pierce expected the best of her children. she gave them the best so of course they had to return the favor. she had inherited her father’s business, and was excelling so much her husband took her last name. it wasn’t a feminist thing, but a money thing you see. alethea grew up without a want, but the truth of the matter is she never knew what she wanted. her mother made those decisions. from what she wore, to how she cut her hair, to who her friends were and what activities did. her entire life was planned to a t, and alethea never questioned a moment of it. how do you question something that you didn’t know was an option?

her brother jacob was doted on, and grew up with a grin and popularity. this was easy to him. this was painful for alethea. she smiled and waved, and the only matters of relief she found were in her ballet classes. going professional hadn’t been her mother’s first plan, but seeing the natural talent her daughter was, and just how feminine she was, allowed this small change in the over all path forward.

jennifer and carl met at ogden, and she knew that was where her children were to go. there was no exception, and jennifer would do whatever needed for her kids to follow her legacy. the major was flexible, but they would go to ogden, they would find suitable spouses, and they would carry on the family legacy. it was picture perfect, and she never heard a single word of complaint from either of her children. 

AND ALL THE TABLES HAVE BEEN TURNED BY ME:

growing up without decisions meant college was terrifying for alethea. she had to pick her classes, find friends that her mother couldn’t approve of, and suddenly had free time that wasn’t planned out for her? it was paralyzing. but during the second week of classes greer spotted alethea across the way and took her under her wing. she showed her what the world could be, and she still fit under that approval from jennifer pierce. greer wasn’t just her best friend, but she was a bit of a savior for her.

this whole time there has been a gnawing in her chest. a desire for freedom, a petition to let the real alethea out and run free. but who was she? alethea couldn’t answer that, not honestly. just who her mother had manufactured her to be. but this confusion, this shyness, this quietness played into a different picture of alethea. it allowed her to be whatever anyone wanted her to be, they could paint their own ideas of her. she could be mysterious, she could be all they ever wanted. and she could be a dream.

and it was through this exploration that alethea slowly stepped out of the pillars her mother had built for her. first came the time greer dared her to kiss another girl during spin the bottle, and alethea realized that she might have enjoyed it more than her mother would have liked. and then came the time greer put her in a suit instead of a dress, and she liked the way it looked on her. and that maybe she wasn’t a girl after all, but something that could be shed. and so they started to pick up new pieces of theirself, putting them together to form a whole new journey. was ballet even the career they wanted? did they even like ogden? who were these people that had been decided as their friends? the questions became overwhelming.

WHO WILL BE LEFT TO LEAVE? JUST ME:  

and now greer is gone. and it’s noticeable the change in alethea. it began before her disappearance of course, but could it somehow be correlated? alethea willingly goes out, sometimes alone, now. they are keeping greers friends, they are speaking up and out, they have a bite to them that hadn’t existed once upon a time. what does the future hold of alethea? are they becoming who they really are, or are they once again pretending, shedding the quiet role they had lived into for all their life for one that looks a little more like their now missing friend…

GREER:

during freshman year at ogden, alethea was absolutely lost and in-over her head. she had never been the rebellious type, her parents had been too strict to allow non-sense in their house, and so alethea was overwhelmed with the freedom college could allow, and she had no idea how to deal with it. her mother had always taught her to seek out the ‘right’ people to befriend, and it was just her luck that greer extended her own friendship to alethea. she brought them to the parties, encouraged her to flirt with whomever was necessary in order to go after who she wanted, and overall guided alethea through college. they doesn’t know if she would have been able to survive any of it without greer. there was little jealousy on alethea’s side at the beginning - she was just grateful for what greer could offer her through her friendship. and alethea was not a threat to greer. but as they’ve grown older there has been a tension living in the friendship, the reliance upon each other that might not be as necessary anymore. alethea was not anymore outgoing or less shy, but now her shyness was being interpreted as mystery, making them a bit more intriguing to others and perhaps sparking some jealousy on greer’s side.

THE DRAG-ALONG:  

you know that girl that was always a few steps behind greer and the fallen princess? the one with wide eyes and a quiet demeanor? they never seemed to talk much, but even in their silence never seemed to be entirely so observant that you had to watch what you were saying. really, she just seemed like a little pet to the best friends, a third they allowed to follow them around. 

and that person? that was alethea, taken under greer’s wing during the first weeks of school freshman year but never brought too close. it was the kind of relationship where alethea was sure to call greer one of her best friends, and greer might hesitate, only referring to them as a simple friend. but wherever the fallen princess and greer were, alethea was there. fingers picking at each other, posture both immaculate and slouched. each semester they seemed to get a bit bolder, inching their way up next to the other two, but still never find herself as an equal. 

extra:

previous tasks found here

they have their septum pierced that they flip up whenever they go home and hide from their mother

her room is usually incredibly clean 

often found walking around campus as if they are in their own world

junior year recap:

g told alethea to start a fight at greer's birthday party so she picked a fight with heni who pushed her in the pool

found polaroids with monty in their chalet during the winter ski retreat black-out

told heni about the polaroids (it was their chalet after all)

thought they saw greer in the hall of mirrors during the spring carnival

g set them up with lola in the library before the rave, did a poor job looking for g when tempted

suffered from smoke inhalation during the fire in the commons trying to escape out of the back

went mia for a bit over the summer

[auxiliarydetective]

Trying to spread some positivity in the OC community today, so: tell me ten random facts about Iris Winchester! Whatever fun little tidits you can think of, tell us about them!! <3

DOLLY! You're so incredibly kind <3 I'm sorry I didn't answer this sooner, I've been busy!

So, facts about Iris, my beloved!

She's more of a cocktail drinker than a drinker for the sake of alcohol. Like, she will drink gin from Hawkeye's still, but she prefers mixed drinks like caipirinha or calimocho (which is called "Korea" in German, fun fact) - mainly to piss off her fancier family members who would never dare mix a good red wine with cola. She's generally a wine drinker, but doesn't do it very often during the war.

She owns a good amount of jewelry, but she initially doesn't have it with her during the war. It's only when Klinger starts crossdressing that she starts asking her parents for jewelry and the like, for the sole purpose of passing them on to Klinger. He refused her lots of time because he feels bad about her gifting him all her things, but lots of jewelry still mysteriously ends up in his possession anyways.

Honestly, she has no clue of class differences and regularly falls flat on her face because of it. Mainly, she has no real idea of what the middle class is like. She'll either assume that they live a lot like she did at home or that they're fairly poor, with pretty much no inbetween.

She's a very generous person, partially because she has no perspective on money. While some of her relatives may be stingy, she likes to throw money at people with the impression that money will solve their problems. A lot of times, it does, but oftentimes it doesn't. Then, she'll be there to emotionally support them as well. But she really has no idea of what "rich" and "poor" actually mean.

She absolutely adores ancient Roman poetry, mainly the works of Ovidius and Catullus, and can cite a lot of verses by heart. Her favourites are the raunchier ones.

Occasionally, she and Father Mulcahy hold little Latin book clubs because they're among the only ones in the camp who actually actively know Latin. Charles knows Latin too, but only bits and pieces. Iris is definitely the more Latin-oriented relative.

She has a tattoo of a quote from Catullus's carmen 5 on her upper thigh, just beneath her hip. It reads "Da mi basia mille, dein mille altera" which translates to "Give me a thousand kisses, then another thousand" which is the beginning of verses 7 and 8. The poem is about love despite the gossip, badmouthing and jealousy of others and is a reminder to Iris of her love for life.

She almost died from an accidental overdose of cough syrup when she was young. Charles saved her from dying, which is part of the reason why they're so close in the present day. When visiting her in the hospital afterwards, he gifted her a book on Roman poetry, which sparked her keen interest in the topic.

Charles and Iris are cousins and they're over ten years apart in age. As such, Charles actually helped raise Iris and has always had a soft spot for the little girl that continues on into their joint service at the 4077th. He considers her an honorary little sister.

Iris is very rebellious where her family is concerned. Her family, including Charles, is very conservative, but she's having none of it. She's a drinker, she's bisexual, she's a woman in the army (shocking! But at least she made it to Captain) who joined voluntarily, to her family's dismay, and she's known for being very promiscuous in all of her relationships, whether they're romantic, sexual, or just platonic. One of the prettiest girls in camp, it's not like there's a lack of options to be had.

Thanks so much for your ask!!!

[atinylittlepain]

Sunday Digest

August is basically here and time is an unforgiving mistress etc etc but at least we have fics :)

i'm going to be out of town this week carrying out operation fleabag (ifykyk) but i still have some treats lined up for y'all

also, you may have seen that i created a Carmen Berzatto masterlist. Yes, it is the Carmen renaissance, the Carmenaissance, if you will. I'm working on a series currently, and that will be coming a little later down the line. but in the meantime, if you have a request for my favorite short king, send it my way!

...........................

here's what was posted last week

June part six :')

The second part of Hungry Hearts, Crush on You

here's what's coming this week

My very first Carmy Berzatto request on Monday, titled Oh Baby - and I already love writing for him <3

June part seven on Tuesday

The third installation of Hungry Hearts, titled Dancing in the Dark, coming on Thursday

..........................

a smattering of the lovely fics in my orbit lately

@pr0ximamidnight posted a mind-meltingly hot Javi P fic called I Can See You that is just muah, chef's kiss

i am really excited to crack into @dinsdjrn's no outbreak!joel series Gone, From Austin - the vibes seem so good, y'all, i can't wait to read this one

@jksprincess10 is working on a Javi P x f!reader x Frankie Morales fic (yes, really, I know it's hot) called With or Without You and all I can say is, I love reading about Javi getting his heterosexual brain jostled around a lil ;)

@tieronecrush wrote the sweetest Javi P fic called Part of me, Apart From Me that is just a delight. Dad!javi is something that can be so personal actually :')

..........................

another slower reading week for me, been a little busy with impending thesis stuff (boo) so please share your own recs in the comments

take care out there

gin

[romanrhodes]

relationships | wanted connections | wanted & ongoing plots | aesthetic | home - rhodes farm

Hey, look! It’s [ ROMAN RHODES ] at [ THE DIRFTWOOD DINER ]. Did you know they work there as [ OWNER & CHEF ]? I guess they’re from [ KISMET HARBOR, OREGON ] and have been in town for [ PREVIOUSLY TWENTY YEARS, NOW ONE YEAR ], living in [ HAWTHORE HIDEAWAY ]. I also heard they’re a little [ STUBBORN & IMPULSIVE ] but also very [ PASSIONATE & FEARLESS ], which makes sense. [ LEE PACE | 43 | CIS MALE | HE/HIM ] 

BASICS.

full name: Roman David Rhodes nickname(s)/goes by: Ro, Chef, Chef Rhodes, Tomato-Head, The Moose pronouns & gender: He/Him & Cis-Male sexuality: Bisexual age: 43 birth date: April 19th, 1980 birthplace: Kismet Harbor, Oregon arrival in East Haven: 1 year (previously 20 years from birth) housing: Rhodes Farm, Hawthorne Hideaway occupation: Owner & Head Chef workplace: The Driftwood Diner, Driftwood Haven family: Eric Rhodes - Father (70), Pamela Rhodes - Mother (43, deceased), Ryan Rhodes - Older Brother (45), [Wanted Connection] Younger Sister (38) relationship status: Recently Broken Up with Andrew Jackson (36)

PHYSICAL.

eye colour: hazel with blue and green hair: warm brunette, wavy, growing longer facial hair: between stubble and a short beard height: 6'5 | 196cm body type: tall, lean, athletic

PERSONALITY.

positive traits: strong, bold, fearless, confident, energetic, passionate, driven, creative, artistic, romantic, observant, loyal negative traits: stubborn, selfish, reckless, impulsive, sensitive, idealistic, emotional, sarcastic, distant, hyper-independent

astrology: Aries Sun | Cancer Moon | Capricorn Rising

hobbies & interests: baseball, wild swimming, fishing, sailing, hiking, camping, cooking, baking, vegetable gardening, orchardry, foraging, cider brewing, gin distillery, raising chickens, road trips.

AESTHETICS.

character inspirations:

Carmen Berzatto, The Bear (2022)

Carl Casper, Chef (2014)

Julian Slowik, The Menu (2022) - but with a lot less murder and insanity. 

pinterest board: https://pin.it/5ArUK31 

BIOGRAPHY.

trigger warnings: mentions of cancer, death, homophobia

Roman David Rhodes was born on April 19th, 1980, the second child and son of Eric and Pamela Rhodes. His childhood was a happy one - he grew up at Rhodes Farm, in a gorgeous farmhouse and lots of land, and spent a huge amount of time at The Driftwood Diner. Owned and run by his grandparents, Roman bounced between the farm, the diner and school. He was the yin to his elder brother Ryan’s yang - while his brother was the extroverted, popular kid who went on to become the captain of the baseball team and Prom King, Roman was the introvert who preferred growing vegetables and herbs with his mother, searching the land and nearby woods for mushrooms and wild garlic, and baking with his grandmother. Being young, he didn’t understand he ‘wasn’t supposed’ to like doing those things, because he was a boy and boys liked sports, fighting with sticks and causing trouble. His father tried to encourage him to try sports, and practice throwing and batting baseballs with his brother - and Roman enjoyed it because, despite their differences, he looked up to his brother and enjoyed getting his attention. He knew from when he was young that Ryan was the golden child, that his father favoured him and overlooked Roman’s accomplishments for Ryan’s… he didn’t care, as long as his brother was good to him. 

While his father overlooked him and struggled to connect to him, his mother was close to him. She encouraged his un-boyish side - the cooking, the baking, the vegetable growing, the mushroom harvesting. She spoke to his father, and made him see it as an asset - Roman could grow to be interested in the farm and the diner, and work with his brother when Ryan inherited. Roman was given a job at the diner when he turned fourteen, as soon as he could. He was just a Saturday busboy, clearing tables and wrapping cutlery - but it meant he could learn about the diner, and how it was run. He could watch the cooks, and his grandmother encouraged his knowledge of her recipes and processes. As he got older, he progressed to a server, and finally, a cook. To some, a job flipping burgers was an insult, but to Roman, it was great. He understood that cooking a great meal could be fulfilling and that people appreciated the work. By this time, he’d hit his growth spurt and being 6’3 at fifteen meant that the guys at school stopped bothering him, but it did cause a weird tension with his now shorter older brother. 

Roman’s simple life suddenly got a lot more complicated when his mother was diagnosed with cancer, very late stage, and very terminal. She was old enough to see Roman graduate high school, but a year later, she was gone, and it hit the family hard. Roman put off going to college to be able to stay with her as long as he could, and after she died, he was lost, adrift. His dreams and ambitions had outgrown Kismet Harbor and the diner - he wanted to go to culinary school, to travel to Europe and learn and work there. His father was against it initially - his son leaving so soon after his wife - but Roman’s grandparents talked him around… and Roman had the money to fund himself, as he’d been saving since the first day at the diner. And so, he left. He went to culinary school, and he went to Europe to train and work. Over the years, he would come home for holidays and as many birthdays as he could afford. And every time, his dad asked when he was coming home to become the head chef at the diner, and Roman asked if he would own it. This surprised his dad - Ryan was the oldest son, so he would get everything. That wasn’t enough for Roman… if he got the diner, he wanted to make changes. He wanted to keep the heart and soul of the place, and take care of it because people loved it… but he wanted to make it his own, to leave his own mark, to serve his food. His grandparents didn’t want anything to change, and after their death, his father wouldn’t allow it either. And Roman knew that if Ryan owned the diner, he would keep things exactly the same… 

Over time, Roman started to learn more and more and worked at various restaurants across Europe until he returned to America, to work in New York. He worked from place to place, until he found himself at Michelin-star restaurants. His work had transformed from traditional home cooking to high-concept, avant-garde menus reserved for the rich and affluent. He was an award-winning chef, primed to become the head chef of a Michelin-star restaurant, and he thought he’d finally done enough for his father to be proud of him. But every time he went home, his family felt further and further away. His mother was gone, his grandparents had died, and no one understood his work or his passion. They poked fun at him becoming too big for his boot, high and mighty, wondering who he thought he was… And he realised unless he contorted himself to fit into the small box his father had always had in mind for him, he would never be accepted - and he would never be praised and thought of like his brother was. They had a huge fight - Roman, his father, and his brother. Painful and hurtful things were said, and Roman left, going no contact. He honestly thought he might never go back to Kismet Harbor. 

Of course, there were things he was hiding from his family. He’d known from a young age that he was attracted to more than just girls. His first love had been a boy in Kismet Harbor, but he’d been raised Catholic. His family had always talked about him getting married to a woman and having children, and even though that was a possibility… Roman hated suppressing another part of himself, so he could never tell them. 

After five years of not speaking to his family, Roman reached the end of his rope. His career had reached incredible heights, but the mental and emotional burnout was taking its toll on Roman, his relationships and his work. After a disastrous review from a revered, infamous food critic, Roman was given a verbal strip down by the owner of the restaurant, and he was fired. Untethered and unemployed, Roman didn’t know what to do… when he got a call from his father’s lawyer. His father was too ill to continue living at the farm and running the diner, and his brother had left Kismet Harbor two years previously, leaving only a letter behind. Roman inherited everything. It was a shock to the system… Everything he’d always wanted, and now he had it… he wasn’t sure he wanted it anymore. But he had to leave New York, and so he went. It at least gave him something to do. So, in January 2023, he moved back to Kismet Harbor, to restart an old life.

SINCE HIS RETURN.

Since his return to Kismet Harbor, Roman has turned his life around and settled into Rhodes Farm as his home. He's slowly worked, thanks to the help of his neighbours and friends, at fixing up Rhodes Farm - repairing the barn, putting in new fences, and building a chicken coop. He now has chickens, a herb and vegetable garden and he's growing new saplings for the orchard. He has plans for ducks for the pond, a butchering shed and potentially goats, and taking on a farm hand and seasonal fruit pickers in the next year.

At The Driftwood Diner, Roman has successfully integrated a new menu, pulling inspiration from his grandparent's original menu and his own tested recipes. He's opened up the old food truck, taking it out to town events, and has plans to set it up for full-time residence. The diner was closed for renovations in January-February 2024. He's built a great team at The Driftwood, some of whom he would consider his friends.

Roman has rekindled old friendships and built new ones with various people. The most significant relationship he's developed is with Andrew Jackson, a man in his mid-thirties who appeared one day at his rundown farm and offered to help, free of charge. Roman gratefully accepted his help, fed him, and had the biggest crush on him. Out of his own fear, he never told Andrew or approached the subject of same-sex attraction due to his own religious, family and teenage trauma, but his feelings grew into something more. Around Easter, Roman followed Andrew into a chapel after witnessing an argument between Andrew and Andrew's father, where Andrew told him he liked men. Roman confessed and they kissed, but Roman was trying to deal with the issues from his past that living in East Haven had brought back. On his 43rd birthday, the grief of losing his mother came rushing back, and he knew he needed professional help.

Roman and Andrew started dating a month later, and their relationship developed quickly. Roman injured himself to protect Andrew from a firework at the Kismet Harbor 4th July disaster, and to aid his recovery, he asked Andrew to move in with him. After his recovery period, Roman realised he didn't want Andrew to leave, and asked him to officially move to Rhodes Farm at the Wagner wedding. Andrew left him in early March 2024, telling Roman he wasn't happy living at the farm, and that he couldn't make him happy because he didn't want to have children. Roman has been heartbroken since.

Around Mother's Day, Roman decided to reach out to his father through a letter. The older man reacted with a telephone call, asking Roman to visit him. The two have slowly rebuilt their relationship, acknowledging the damage and hurt done on both sides. They are both in a good place, spending Thanksgiving together as a combined Rhodes-Jackson family, and reconnecting with his son has even bettered his father's health.

Roman reconnected with his younger sister, in October 2023. Their relationship has become strained and painful, but Roman is determined to rebuild his connection with her.