#if you follow me on instagram you can follow my progress on stuff like this live

[euphreana]

I was having a rough time mentally last night, so spent over 10 hours making another OC plushie: Fregum! (my mental health is now very improved)

process pics under the cut!

I don't have a pattern for Canu yet (and no immediate plans to make one) so it may be a while till my OC collection is complete. (I've still gotta finish Min-Gi anway.)

Fregum's arms were hard enough - since flannel likes to stick to itself, it's practically impossible to turn small, narrow objects inside-out, so I had to stitch them halfway, turn them outside-in, stuff them with fluff, and then mattress stitch them closed, holding the tiny seams against all the fluff that wanted to escape. Canu has four scrawny arms and I'm not eager to repeat the process just yet. (If anyone else knows a better way, let me know! I've literally been making these by trial-and-error and youtube videos.)

[buzzcutlip]

Cracks and Gaps - The Cat Shrine (part III) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Explicit 8539 words

A/N: This chapter is a bit longer than I expected but it's also packed with stuff that needs to be said and done. Plus! I believe this part offers all we've been waiting for iykwim

THE CAT SHRINE "Carmen!" You snap your fingers next to his ear.

"Yeah," he replies, blue eyes melting into yours like ice daggers.

"You're not concentrating," you accuse, huffing.

"I am!"

"You're so not."

Shaking your head, you put your phone down, tired of trying to show the chef the progress The Bear has made in its social media presence. You don’t think it’s important for him to know all the details, but he should be fully informed.

"You haven’t even downloaded Instagram, have you?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"Uhm…" Carmen shifts uncomfortably, guilt written all over his face.

"I knew it!" you exclaim. Although you want to be strict, wanting him to know you take your work seriously and wanting him to acknowledge it, you start laughing when you see the long face he’s pulling. He looks like a dog caught peeing on the rug.

"What’re you laughing at?" Carmen asks sullenly.

You shake your head. "Nothin'," but you still snicker. You like teasing him a little.

When you calm down, you take a sip of your soda from the funky Superdawg cup and take a deep breath. The parking lot offers no shade, and there’s sweat gathering at your hairline. You watch the two mascots—Laurie and Flaurie, sausages perched on the roof of the drive-in. Thousands of people must have done the exact same thing since this spot opened in the '50s.

"Do you think Nat really wants me at Pete’s birthday?" you ask, your face serious. From Carmen's expression, you can tell he appreciates the change.

"I think so," he affirms. "She wouldn’t have asked otherwise."

"She’s too nice. She knows I would find out about it eventually," you muse aloud. "Like, that would be awkward… I hope it’s not only 'cause of the interview and stuff."

Carmen lights a cigarette, shaking his head. "Bullshit." He always waits to smoke until no one around is eating.

You shrug, faking nonchalance, but the idea of Natalie inviting you out of obligation makes you feel sick to your stomach. You don’t need favors or fawning over.

Carmen blows the blue smoke in the opposite direction from you. "She likes you."

The car hood is hot under your butt, and your cutoff denim shorts aren’t doing much to protect your skin. You shimmy uncomfortably, hissing.

Next to you, Carmen looks down at you, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"It’s hot," you whine, trying to tug the shorts lower.

"You okay?" Carmen checks.

"I’m fine," you sigh. "I’m glad to be baking my ass on metal, actually," you say, picking the last bits of caramelized onion from the paper tray. "I watched The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo yesterday. Listened to way too much of Ethel Cain…"

Carmen keeps looking at you, clearly not following.

"'s dark stuff," you sigh again, being pretty dramatic just for effect. You definitely don’t feel too affected by Nordic crime books or songs about escaping a cult and cannibalism. It takes you somewhere else, mentally. Not a bad place, necessarily.

"Uhm—hopefully the hot dog’s cheered you up?" Carmen asks, popping a fry into his mouth, then wiping his hand with the back of his tattooed fingers. They’re long and graceful, the nail beds clean with minimal hangnails. You want to lick them clean.

You give him a smile. A genuine one. "Yep."

Not just the hot dog.

Carmen’s brows furrow a bit as he glances at you, a small smile playing on his lips despite himself. "You’re hard to read sometimes. Like—hm—I don’t know if you’re joking or not."

"You say that like it’s a bad thing," you tease, giving him a playful nudge. His hand steadies itself on the hood as the sun glints off it, the Chicago heat thick in the air around you.

"It’s not," Carmen says, his tone softer now. "It feels more genuine. Authentic. It’s kinda... nice."

You raise an eyebrow, amused by his awkward sincerity. "Kinda?"

Carmen chuckles, shaking his head as if embarrassed by the admission. "Fine. It’s nice."

You smirk, pleased with yourself for drawing him out of his usual seriousness.

"Nat wouldn’t have invited you if she didn’t want you there, you know," Carmen says, circling back to your earlier worry.

"I guess," you reply, still a bit skeptical. "Just don’t wanna be somewhere I don’t really belong."

Carmen’s gaze hardens a little, a quiet determination settling in his voice. "You do belong."

You meet his eyes, surprised at the firmness in his words. For all his hesitation and self-doubt, Carmen has a way of saying the simplest things with absolute certainty when he means it.

"Okay," you reply quietly.

—

In the late afternoon, you arrive at Pete and Natalie’s house. The sunlight’s casting a warm glow over the tree-lined streets, and you’re grateful that the heat’s eased off and you aren’t sweaty and gross before you get in. The house is beautifully maintained, with a fresh coat of paint, a well-kept yard, and soft music spilling out through the open windows. Pete’s job clearly allows them a bit of comfort. For the first time since you were here, all those months ago, you notice these little details.

As you make your way up the walkway, you notice a stroller parked just inside the entryway, along with a soft baby blanket draped over the arm of a chair near the door—the quiet reminders of Natalie and Pete’s new life as parents. You hear soft baby coos over the sound of conversation, which makes you smile. Yet, it’s a reminder that maybe you yourself should start thinking of this kind of life. A life with a serious partner you might start a family with. Someone you will spend the rest of your life with. Probably. Hopefully.

Inside, the party is subdued yet lively. Guests drift through the kitchen and living room, chatting and laughing. You greet a few familiar faces, but you’re not really that close with most of them. The place is clean and pretty, the opposite of the mess you experienced in May. You quickly spit out your gum into a tissue you find in your pocket.

Richie finds you first, thrusting a glass of mimosa in your hand. You didn’t plan on drinking, but this could help with your nerves. You’re not great in new settings, around people you don’t know very well. Luckily, you’re pretty good with kids and you really like Natalie, so when she spots you, you spend about 30 minutes chatting while a few people gather around you. She gives you the baby to hold, and the little boy dozes off in your arms. When Nat takes him back to put him down in the crib, you excuse yourself from Jimmy’s wife and another older lady to go find water and maybe something small to eat.

The kitchen is quiet compared to the rest of the house, and you’re not surprised to find Carmen there, cutting carrots into precise sticks, his knife moving with calm precision. He doesn’t notice you at first, so you have a moment to take in his wide, muscled back under a thin sweater. It’s a very, very nice back that you would really, really like to see without any clothes.

You shake your head, pulling yourself together.

You clear your throat. “Hi.”

The sound startles him, and he jumps, the knife slipping from his fingers onto the cutting board with a loud clatter. “Fuck!” he mutters, spinning around to see you.

“Sorry!” you hurry to apologize, walking all the way to him. “Did you cut yourself?”

“No, it’s fine,” Carmen reassures you, taking a deep breath. “Hey,” he greets you back, a bit calmer now. He seems a bit surprised to see you.

“So, I find you in the kitchen, of all places,” you say with a smile, leaning on the wall. Under your arm is a thick paper envelope with the fresh magazine issue inside.

“I thought maybe you wouldn’t come.��� His expression shifts to something warm, less guarded than what you’re used to. You almost blush at his words, unsure of what to take away from them.

Your fingers tighten around the envelope for a moment before you gather the courage to hand it over to him. “I wanted to show you this today.”

Carmen’s gaze drops to the big envelope, and he takes it from you. When he opens it, he sees himself on the cover, and there’s a pause. The main title reads, "Chef Carmen: The Story That Matters."

You feel a slight flutter of nerves. “I wanted to give you a chance to see it before anyone else. We just received a couple of copies yesterday. It’s not on newsstands for another week.”

Carmen nods but stays quiet, just flipping through the pages. You made sure Nat went over the final images with him, confirming he’s okay with the selection, and with the cover that features him wearing a pair of smart black pants and a white t-shirt revealing his tattoos. You see him skimming the article, glancing at the photos of himself in the kitchen and on the set. There are a couple with the whole team at The Bear.

“It’s… weird,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Seeing myself like this.”

You tilt your head curiously. “You’ve been in magazines. Even on the cover.”

“Yeah—just—” he glances back at the pages. “Not with a project that’s as personal as The Bear.”

You nod, understanding. It is revealing. While transcribing the interview and writing the whole feature, you finally had a chance to see through the cracks and gaps and get a glimpse of the real Carmen. The one hiding behind his unapproachable facade.

Carmen shakes his head, chuckling softly. “It’s… a lot. But it’s good,” he admits, his voice soft. He looks back at you, and you can feel the gratitude there, unspoken but genuine. “Thank you. You put a lot of work into this.”

You give a small shrug, trying to keep your own emotions in check.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I doubted you.” The reference to the bumpy start stings, and you almost grimace. “It’s… it’s everything you’ve done to get us here. I don’t think anyone’s ever believed in me like that.”

You want to say something silly, like, “Oh, I knew you’d be the top chef in Copenhagen already,” but you can’t get the words out. You don’t frequent The Bear as often as you used to. After the incident with Carmen, and even after all the apologies, you agreed they would find a proper social media manager, and you would help occasionally. But now you’ve started meeting Carmen outside the kitchen much more, venturing further into the restaurant world with a top chef as your guide. He’s changed, you think. Maybe both of you have.

Finally, Carmen breaks the silence, letting out a small, almost bashful laugh. “Guess I should, uh, keep this somewhere safe?”

You smile, relieved to feel the tension ease, and nod. “Yeah, please. Maybe show it to them when you’re back at work tomorrow? I’m sure Sydney and the others would get a kick out of seeing it.”

You watch Carmen tuck the magazine back into the envelope, and you feel the moment slipping past you. You clear your throat, gathering yourself before you speak.

“Actually, there’s… this event next week,” you start, fidgeting slightly. “It’s a charity cocktail—kind of formal, for a nonprofit that supports community kitchens. I wanted to ask if you’d come with me.”

Carmen raises an eyebrow, caught between curiosity and amusement. “Me?”

“Yeah,” you say with a shrug that you hope comes off casual. “I mean, you’re on the cover of Taste now, and people will hear about it soon. Thought it’d be nice to… y’know, show you off a little.”

He looks down, an almost shy grin tugging at his mouth. “Didn’t think I was the ‘show-off’ type.”

“Oh, you totally are,” you reply, grinning. “Besides, Nat mentioned you might need to make an appearance or two—good publicity for The Bear and all that.”

Carmen nods, as if he’s already half-resigned. “She has been dropping hints,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was going to ask if you’d come with me to it, too. Got the invite a few weeks back.”

“Oh,” you say, raising your eyebrows. “I thought we’re friends now. You should've asked sooner,” and you hope the word “friends” sounds as casual as you intended.

“Okay—then yes,” Carmen says, and there’s a challenge in his voice, his face serious. It’s clear he doesn’t want to seem like someone afraid of public events and social gatherings in general. You do know the truth, which makes you chuckle.

“How fancy is the event, you think?” he checks, sounding slightly discouraged now.

“Not that fancy, don’t worry.” You grin, leaning a bit closer. “Nothing that calls for a tux, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I can wear a tux,” he juts out his chin, and it’s such a sudden change to his normal demeanor that you feel a bit weak in the knees for a second. Confidence suits him, as you know. And not only while he’s being the Chef.

“No doubt,” you agree with a smile, taking a tray with homemade hummus and carrot sticks from him.

“Oh—I’ve been meaning to ask you,” you remember as you’re both exiting the kitchen with more prepared food in your hands. “How did you survive the photo shoot and interview without any smoke breaks?”

He looks up at you and stays quiet for a moment.

“Nicotine patches. I had to put on three at the same time.”

And you laugh.

—

Carmen picks you up on Thursday at six-thirty. You chew through half a packet of gum while getting ready. A mix of feelings is swirling around in your stomach—excitement, nervousness, and an utter disbelief that you’re so worked up about a professional evening with Carmen.

When he buzzes the intercom, you jump, giving yourself an unnecessary scare, then roll your eyes at yourself. Grabbing a small black purse, you lock up behind yourself and make your way down the four flights of stairs. The air outside is slightly cool from the late afternoon rain, the fresh smell hitting your nose and making you nostalgic.

“Oh my god,” your heart drops to your stomach the second you look at Carmen, who is blankly staring with the most perplexed expression you’ve ever seen. “Have I messed up? Is this inappropriate?” Trying to read more from Carmen’s face, you lift your trembling hands to your mouth. What have you done? Why do you always have to have your way?

You look down at your draped top, barely covering your shoulders, and wide, pleated pants you opted for instead of a more traditional skirt or dress. You’re also wearing high-heeled Mary Janes that bring you to the same height level as Carmen. You hoped he’d get the fashion statement.

“I’m—I can change,” you stammer, turning halfway back to the door, already thinking about what you could swap this for.

As Carmen starts saying, “No, no,” you say, “It said semi-formal.” Carmen reaches for your hand and gently pulls it from your mouth. You’re still confused and freaking out, not understanding anything.

“I just meant—I just wanted to say,” Carmen swallows, “that you look lovely.”

“Oh god,” you sigh heavily with relief, and you both laugh—Carmen a bit awkwardly, and you breathlessly. “Screw you.” You’re pretty sure you feel two stones lighter suddenly.

It’s only later, when you’re both sitting in the back of a taxi taking you to The Field Museum, that you realize what Carmen said. He said you looked pretty. Oh.

—

“This is going to be so awkward,” Carmen says, his eyes never leaving the big, open door with a stream of nicely dressed people heading in through it. The large, Neoclassical building is imposing with its massive Corinthian columns, giving off an air of true greatness.

“Oh, c’mon,” you whine. “I’m actually really excited to see it from the inside without the usual visitors. It’s gonna be fine. You can even get drunk, if you want to.”

“Uh—I don’t really drink,” Carmen says as he finishes off his cigarette, stubbing the end and flicking the butt into the ashtray.

“Maybe tonight you will.” You smile sweetly. Of course, you would never even think of pressuring Carmen—or anyone— into drinking alcohol, but the faded image of the two of you in his houseboat in Copenhagen pops into your head.

“We can just check out Ancient Egypt and go,” you suggest as you watch Carmen fidget nervously from the corner of your eye.

He gives you a tight smile, one that doesn't reach his eyes, then offers you his arm, and together you go in.

The East Atrium is lit up and arranged with round tables and smaller, tall bar tables. It’s a modern addition to the museum designed to blend with the historic architecture. Through the large windows facing the lake, you can see the sun starting to set. There are fresh flowers—hydrangeas, peonies, and tuberose—in the vases decorating the space, and you can’t help but touch the soft petals as you stand by one of the arrangements.

Carmen’s gaze shifts around the room. His arm tenses slightly under your hand, and you can tell he's trying to look relaxed, even as his fingers keep flexing in his pocket. “See? It’s nice in here, right?” you whisper, trying to catch his eye, hoping for a little reassurance that he’s not hating every second. So far, you’ve only met two people you know—clients who regularly advertise in Taste and who did recognize Carmen, pulling him into an intense conversation about cooking stoves. When he spoke to the clients, you noticed his voice was polite but guarded, the rhythm clipped, almost rehearsed. Different from when he talks to you.

Carmen gives a reluctant nod. “Yeah, it’s…not bad.” He scans the room again, and you feel for him, guessing he’s probably trying to uncover any other potential danger. Then he notices the flowers you’ve gravitated toward, and his mouth quirks up—just a bit. “You really like flowers, huh?” he says quietly, watching you brush your fingers over the soft petals.

You grin and shrug. The scent of tuberose mingles with the warmth of the evening, and you get the best idea. “Want to skip the mingling and find the mummies?” you offer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “I mean, what’s a night at the Field Museum without a little ancient history?���

Carmen lets out a soft chuckle, a rare sound that feels like a victory. “Yeah,” he says, sounding almost relieved. “Let’s do that.” As you make your way across the Atrium, Carmen keeps close by your side, your arms brushing. When he opens the door for you, his hand hovers just above the small of your back, the warmth radiating from his palm seeping into your spine through your clothes. The murmured “thanks” is the most you can do without embarrassing yourself.

—

“My dad is obsessed with mummies. He used to take me here at least twice a year when I was a kid,” you say as you aim your phone camera to capture the sleeping artifact. “I’ve never been here after the closing hours though.”

You send a quick, funny message to the chat group you have with your parents, and put the phone back into your purse. Although the narrow corridors and the displays are the same as they were years ago, it never gets old to you.

“I don’t think my parents took me places,” Carmen says next to you, studying the plaque next to the mummy and its decorated sarcophagus. “To cultural institutes and shit. We spent a lot of time at home, or running around our block.”

You feel a pang in your chest for little-boy Carmy. On the other hand, you know that you can’t judge other people’s experiences and the quality of their childhoods and lives based on yours.

“You’re here now. And you can ask anything. I can pretend to be a qualified guide,” you half-joke.

Carmen chuckles softly, though his gaze stays fixed on the ancient figure in its case. His eyes trace over the faded bandages, the meticulous, centuries-old work of preservation.

“It’s just an illusion. Most of the exhibits we see in museums have been stolen from the original countries as part of colonialism or wars,” you sigh, studying the gold jewelry in a display behind the thick glass. “It shouldn’t be like that.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of messed up.”

Next, you check the Book of the Dead and the reconstruction of the ancient marketplace. Here and there, you bump into other people drifting in from the atrium, taking the opportunity to experience the free exhibition too.

“I think I need a drink after the cat shrine,” Carmen points out once you make it back to the lively space of the Atrium. The glass ceiling reveals that the evening’s turned into night. “It was kinda creepy,” he says with a certain hint of unease. You chuckle, patting him lightly on the back. “I think that’s the point. Cats are guardians of the afterlife, gazing into your soul. Maybe they picked you out for judgment, Carmen.” He shudders slightly, pulling a face. “I’d rather stick to cooking for the living.”

More people approach you as you wait at the bar—old colleagues of Carmen from Ever, hospitality people you’ve interviewed, and Regina, the head of sales from Taste.

Carmen holds the two drinks as you find a table off to the side, both of you grateful for the secluded spot. He slides your drink over to you. The tired look on his face proves he’s not too thrilled about the impromptu reunion with old colleagues.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan club,” you point out. The way Regina was looking at Carmen sticks with you—the way she talked to him. Like she wanted to eat him alive. Or fuck him.

Carmen rolls his eyes. “Didn’t realize it’d be a whole industry meetup. Thought I was off-duty tonight.”

“You couldn't have possibly thought that.”

You mirror Carmen and take a sip of the drink to find out what he’s ordered for you.

“That’s—that’s licorice vodka,” you stammer out.

Carmen nods. “Yeah, can you believe they have it here?” A small, secretive smile plays around his eyes. “Did I hit the target, Copenhagen?” Your eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected nostalgia that hits you as you recognize the drink. It’s simple, unassuming, yet oddly perfect—a reminder of countless late nights and blurry memories from Denmark. You can’t believe he’s remembered. “Yeah,” you say, recovering. “You hit the target.”

Instead of pondering more about the reasons, or the lack of them, behind Carmen’s gesture, you look down at your feet, hissing. “Do your feet hurt?”

“Fuck yes. Like hell!” You can’t help but grimace as you shift your weight, feeling the pinch of your shoes.

Carmen watches you shuffle uncomfortably, and he hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh…you sure you’re okay?” he asks.

“It’s fine. I was expecting this.”

You take a sip of your drink again, thinking of what you want to say next.

“Do you do all this because of what happened?” you ask, looking at the floor behind his shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“The—what happened in the restaurant office,” you add in a small voice, hating to talk about the incident.

Carmen reaches out to lightly touch your hand on the table. “I should've never behaved that way. I was a real dick.”

“That mean yes or no?” you inquire, your heart picking up speed. You don’t know why you’re getting nervous again. “You’ve been super nice to me. And a—a good, uhm, friend.” You say the word ‘friend’ so tentatively it’s almost inaudible in the room. Maybe you hope Carmen’s gonna overhear. It’s such a fragile label of what’s between you.

Carmen actually huffs out a small laugh before he says: “Be nice to nice,” and you lift your head up to glance at him, finding him smiling, so you smile back. You just smile back and don’t say anything else. This is all you need.

—

The next morning, the sun feels harsher than it should. It streams through the blinds, making everything feel just a little too bright, a little too real after last night. You had expected to wake up tired, but what you didn’t expect was the quiet echo of Carmen’s smile and his casual, soft touches lingering in your chest and beneath your skin. Fuck, you think self-deprecatingly. You try to shake it off as you rush to work, but it’s impossible.

During the morning briefing, you keep checking your phone for new messages, but there are none from Carmen. It’s hard not to hope for a follow-up after last night. As innocent and friendly as the whole evening had been, ignoring your growing affection for the chef is impossible now.

When your phone buzzes during your lunch break, a quick glance at the screen tells you it’s Natalie, texting in her usual efficient bursts: Nat: New special menu to be launched tomorrow. Can you stop by The Bear tonight? Nat: Just to check how we wanna communicate it on SoMe. Nothing major! You barely finish reading before the familiar flutter sets in. Nothing major for Natalie usually means chaos in the making. But it’s not her message that has you rushing home after work—it’s the possibility of seeing Carmen again. By the time you’ve touched up your makeup and slipped into a new outfit, your nerves are buzzing. Carmen’s commented on your dresses a couple of times, so you feel like that’s definitely the right choice. You put together a dark blue button-through summer dress with tiny white dots, and a pair of cowboy boots, giving you a look that’s casually cool.

As you get ready, you wonder how Carmen feels about seeing you again so soon after last night. You wonder if he thought about the drink he picked for you, or the way he laughed—so much that his dimples, which you had almost forgotten about, kept appearing by his mouth.

The service is in full swing when you arrive, so you automatically use the back door, heading to the office as quickly as possible through the intensity of the kitchen. You don’t even try to catch a glimpse of blond hair or that familiar white chef’s jacket, even though you terribly want to.

“Looks like it’s already a madhouse,” you say, sliding into the chair next to Natalie in the office. “When isn’t it?” Nat quips, finally looking up with a wry smile. She nods toward the kitchen. “Carmy’s back there somewhere. I told him you’d swing by.” Your stomach does a little flip at the mention of his name, but you nod casually, as if it doesn’t affect you at all. “Okay, let’s see this menu then.”

Natalie starts explaining the dishes, her words efficient but animated, as she describes the seasonal ingredients and the thought behind the pairings. It’s funny how similar the siblings are. Maybe not at first glance, but as you’ve gotten to know them better, you notice the resemblance more often than not.

As if summoned by your thoughts, the door swings open, and Carmen steps out. His brows are furrowed in that intense, focused way that somehow makes him look even more attractive. Your breath catches, and you quickly look down at the paper in front of you, pretending to study the menu notes.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and quiet, as he approaches the table. He nods at Natalie, then turns his attention to you. His gaze flickers briefly to your dress. “Hi,” you reply, trying not to sound too breathless. “Thanks for coming,” Carmen says, his eyes lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary before shifting back to Natalie. “So, what’s the plan?”

As Natalie launches into the logistics, you can’t help but steal glances at Carmen. He’s close enough that you catch the faint scent of his cologne, and when his fingers brush yours as he passes a page of notes, it feels electric, sending a spark up your arm. If you’d struggled to concentrate earlier, it’s almost impossible now. And you’re the one who’s supposed to share ideas and opinions.

The whole thing stretches into a menu tasting in the only calmer spot in the kitchen—you taking photos just in case, brainstorming about the introduction wording. Then Carmen and Natalie get into a fight—unsurprisingly—before making up. It’s like being on a swing with them, and the whole environment of the kitchen—hot, fast, frantic—makes it even more intense.

—

Absolutely on purpose, you finish fiddling with Instagram just before 11:30 p.m. in the empty kitchen, getting up when you hear what must be Carmen taking out his civvies from his locker. You take your bomber jacket and a handbag, walking over there.

“Hi,” you say, and Carmen’s head pops up through the hole of his crewneck sweater.

“Hey,” he says back. “You’re still here?”

You nod. “Thank you again for yesterday. For taking me with you.”

Carmen looks up at you from where he’s changing his Birkenstocks for white sneakers. “Didn’t you take me with you?” he jokes.

“It was nice either way,” you say, putting on your jacket and hoping Carmen doesn’t hear the hope in your voice. It’s hard to keep the softness you feel for him out of your words.

Carmen hoists his backpack onto his shoulder. “You leaving too?”

“Yep.”

He holds the back door for you, touching your lower back lightly the way he had yesterday. You bite your lip at the slightest contact, resisting the urge to reach back and touch his hand.

You lean against the wall by the door as Carmen locks up and then lights up a cigarette. You haven’t talked much for the rest of the dinner service, but he seems more relaxed, smiles more often. It has you smiling too.

“What?” he checks when he looks over at you.

You shake your head but the smile persists. “Nothin’... I’m glad it all has worked out,” you sigh with relief and content.

Carm blows the smoke above his head, watching it disappear. “Thanks to you,” he says seriously. 

“No. No, we talked about this yesterday. I don’t need any credit in this,” you’re shaking your head in resolution, a frown forming on your face. “I don’t want it.”

He steps closer, crowding you against the wall, intention flashing in his eyes, and you can't breathe. Can't imagine that the timid chef would want - that he would want you in a way you've been wanting him. 

Carmen gets into your space, and your hands land on his waist, finding purchase on the waistband of his jeans. “Carmy,” you breath out quietly, head tilted down. You don't know what's going to happen but the close proximity to the chef makes you breathless. His hands cradle your face. You only feel the gentle touch, scared to face Carmen fully. But you can smell him again - his deodorant and hair product. Cigarettes. 

He surprises you though. “Why do you always smell like cinnamon?” he mumbles, his breath tickling the baby hair around your ear, his mouth an inch from it. 

“It's the - the gum,” you answer, trying to stay calm despite your heart beating like crazy. Only now you do realize you called him Carmy. It felt right. 

You're not sure for how much longer you can stay still, but Carmen seems to have no trouble dragging the situation out. You are restless, though, you just have to do something. 

So you tilt your face up and you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss him. Just to press your lips against Carmy’s, nothing else. It’s actually more of an act to break the tension than an actual kiss. You feel absolutely stupid a mere second after you are back on your feet fully, Carmen right in front of you, unmoving.

“Am I reading this all wrong?” you ask when the chef remains silent, avoiding eye contact with you.

He shakes his curly head, putting space between you two—unwittingly or not, you don’t want to think about it now—and runs a palm over his face, scratching the back of his neck. His body leaning away, the stupid crewneck pulling tight across his shoulders with the stretch of Carmen’s muscles.

“You’re not,” he says, and you almost feel giddy. You bite your lip to stop smiling. Carmen looks pained and worried, and you don’t want to be smiling.

“Then what’s going on?” you ask, reaching for his wrist and stroking the protruding bones there lightly.

“Just—I just feel like I’m going to fuck everything up.”

Slowly, you sway back closer to him, putting all your own nervousness behind. You lay one of your palms against his chest, hoping it could comfort him, the other one back on his waist.

“You know you are hot—” you say quietly, not quite looking him in the eye, “—attractive.” You correct yourself quickly.

“What?” Carmen says, and you can feel him relax a tiny bit, twisting his hand so it’s holding the one that had been on his wrist.

“You work out. You must know that you look good.” You slide your palm a little lower to the abs hiding under his cotton shirt.

It sounds awfully a lot like flirting, but you don’t even know how to flirt. You are honestly so bad at it. And this is only the truth, anyway.

Carmy’s definitely wearing a blush that’s matching yours. It’s spreading down his neck and lower, where you want to put your mouth.

“I just run. Sometimes. After work,” Carmen stammers a little incoherently, probably feeling like you are expecting an answer, or an explanation. And you know he runs every day, and does push-ups and God knows what. It’s a known fact in the kitchen. That’s how he puts space between “work” and “life.” A divider. Even just so small. You understand it. The need to know where your job ends and you start. You can also imagine that it’s something very difficult to distinguish for Carmen.

“I hate running,” you note, your honest mind is too quick to think twice. “But still—I would really like to kiss you. Properly.”

A car wheezes around you, way past the speed limit, and Carmen stares after it. He takes a visible, deep breath, looking into the street on the right, where the street lamps turn into small yellow, glowing balls. It bares the side of his neck to you, thick and vulnerable, and you can’t not look. A shiver runs through you from the evening chill, or maybe something else, too.

“Can we—would you maybe like to come over to my place?” you ask, probably the bravest you’ve ever been.

Carmen clearly thinks about the situation for a couple of seconds before he says: “Ok. Let’s go.”

You blink once, say nothing, and head toward the L with him by your side.

—

On the staircase, Carmen takes your hand into his, long fingers sliding along the top of your hand. While you're unlocking the door, you wonder if Mikaela left potato peels and apricot stones and orange rinds on the kitchen counter in her so-called open compost. 

“Come in,” you say over your shoulder. The old, brass hanger is by the main door and you hang your jacket there, then take Carmen's to put away there too. “Would you like something to drink?” you ask politely, stalling on purpose. “We have - “ in all honesty, you are almost scared to open the fridge but Carmen is still standing where you left him, by the door. “We have tonic - “ without his friend gin that disappeared on Saturday - “ - or tap water.” 

Carmen's wearing his gray crewneck and in combination with his mussed hair, he looks incredibly soft. “'m fine,” he says, looking at you with his big eyes, looking nervous but somewhat calm. Like he doesn't want to run away, which instantly comes to you as a huge relief. 

You go to switch on the two small lamps placed around the room that you call the living room, which is obviously part kitchen and dining room too. The light makes everything even softer, a gentle sort of atmosphere. Suddenly it's easy to find each other in the middle of the room, right where the sofa with patchwork cushions are. WIthout a moment of hesitation, you kinda meet in the middle, and finally, you get to taste Carmen Berzatto. 

It takes a few slow, lingering kisses to get bolder, and to your surprise, it's Carmen who gently slips his tongue into your mouth first, and you briefly wonder if he can taste the cinnamon from your gum now. Slowly reaching up to put your hand on the nape of Carmy's neck, you feel the delicate golden chain lying against his vertebra. How long will it take to see him wearing only that?

You push him softly in the general direction of the sofa. It's old and too soft, but you love the faded gray upholstery and how homey the simple piece of furniture is. Soon Carmen´s sitting on it with you on his lap. You’re wearing the dark blue cotton dress and your boots that are digging in the sofa by Carmen's thighs. 

Carmen´s not shy, kissing you fully, tilting your head to his liking, stroking your bare arms up and down. You’re breathless on top of him, fingers running through the dark blond curls, giving back as much as receiving. The two of you kiss for long minutes, and you love it. You love how he tastes and how he's touching you, but it's clear that he's holding back. Or maybe it’s just you who is completely overwhelmed with want and need. 

“Are you - are you a virgin?” you dare to ask into his ear, kissing his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his shoulder. 

“What? No,” Carmen says, letting out a breathless laugh. 

“It's fine if you are.”

“No,” he repeats.

“Ok.”

You lean back and take his hand to intertwine your fingers together. You can feel how warm your face is, the rushing of your heart. 

“I just - just haven’t done anything. In a while,” Carmen says while looking at you, and he´s blushing, the apples of his cheeks darker than seconds ago. 

“Me neither,” you reply in the same hushed voice caused by the dark room around you.

“You can touch me,” you invite him, bringing your joint hands to the apex of your thighs where the hem of your dress has rucked up. There´s nothing to be seen, the dress still covering your underwear, and you remember incidentally, that you are wearing a very plain pair of white knickers. Before he has a chance to react to your bold move, you duck down to kiss him, and everything drowns out the buzz of paralyzing excitement. 

First you feel the soft touch of the back of his knuckles to press against your throbbing groin, too light to do anything than tease you. Carmen doesn't stop kissing you but it's slower, less measured, while he concentrates on the movement of his hand between your legs. He presses a bit harder, starts rubbing you in circles.

You shudder out a breath, tensing, fingers digging into his shoulders. “‘s nice,” you mutter into his mouth, face hot, too worried that if you don't encourage him, he might stop.

Carmen shortly hums in response and doesn’t stop. He presses open mouthed kisses against the side of your neck and down to the low neckline of your dress. You bite down on your lower lip, overwhelmed. It’s still hard to believe that you have Carmen here on your sofa, between your legs, his unruly curls between your fingers. Only now do you start to realize that you feel so much for him. That this is not just messing around. That you could actually fall in love with him. That you have been falling for him.

With a touch to his sharp jaw, you bring his face back to yours to kiss him deeply again, taking his free hand in yours to guide him, this time up to your breast. You squeeze the heavy weight of it and moan against the side of Carmy’s neck.

“I like it when it hurts a bit,” you whisper bashfully, too aware of how your hair sticks to your sweaty nape, the baby hairs by your ears probably curling with the humidity coming off your own burning skin. 

Carmen nods and squeezes, a bit harder than you showed him, and you let out a surprised gasp that turns into a moan, head tilting back in pleasure. His thumb finds your nipple through two layers of clothing and he rubs against it, then pinches. Your eyes fly to his, wide and searching. Surprised by his obvious willingness to please you, you watch Carm’s actions almost breathlessly - how his eyebrows knot in concentration upon every measured touch, the way the tendons in his hand strain when he sneaks his fingers behind the elastic of your underwear. But you need to see more.

“Take this off,” you rasp out, grasping the material of Carmen’s jumper and tugging. “Off,” you mutter again, trying to help Carm out while he gets the garment over his head and off, chuckling breathlessly. You catch his smile and have to grin back, shyly but surely, and you kiss again, Carmen going back where he had stopped. 

When you can open your eyes again, you enjoy the sight of Carmen’s muscles straining as he fingers you, looking down at where his fingers are disappearing into you, the elastic waistband digging into his wrist. He’s as concentrated and serious as he gets in the kitchen, plus turned on, if you can judge by the way he worries his bottom lip and the flush that’s spreading down his face to his long neck. Maybe he does get turned on when he’s in the kitchen, you muse, you just never noticed.

The never-ending string of your thoughts, even in this situation, unfortunately, is interrupted by Carm’s palm moving from your bare thigh up to your ass, his fingertips digging into the meat. His other hand speeds up, causing you to mutter, “Fuck,” into his ear.

“Can you come like this?” Carmen asks, and you can feel his wide eyes on you, even though you’re not looking.

“Give me a sec,” you answer in a breathy, raw voice, already mostly there. Your hand travels down into your underwear to touch your aching, swollen clit, while Carmy resumes, rubbing your walls inside. When he curls his fingers, the tips drag over your g-spot. That stirs all sorts of feelings in you, and you moan, then start grinding against his hand, his fingers. Those fingers that you watched chop and stir so many times in secret with quiet rapture, are now in you, bringing you to an orgasm.

Afraid that he could read too much from your face, you drag him into another kiss, dirtier and more desperate than the previous ones. As you near the peak, getting more and more desperate, unable to kiss Carm properly, he mouths at your collarbones, your chest, the top of your breasts. When he uses his teeth, you know he’s testing how far he can go, and you let out an encouraging sound.

Squeezing your eyes shut, your head tips back again, baring your throat to Carmen, as you come. You can feel your thighs tremble and your fingers squeeze Carmy’s shoulders momentarily. Once it washes over you, you slide off sideways from Carmen’s lap, breathing heavily and still biting your lip. You think you didn’t let out a single sound. You didn’t want to.

Carmen gives you a side glance, eyes glassy. He seems to be a bit breathless himself. You notice his eyes going to your breasts, where you can still feel wetness from his mouth, wondering if there are any actual marks left. Judging by the look on Carmen’s face, there might be.

Without thinking, you reach out and tug on the waistband of his Dickies.

“Yeah?” he says, looking at you.

“Yeah,” you nod.

With clumsy fingers, you open the button on Carmy’s pants together. You can’t help yourself — you push up the material of his t-shirt, revealing extra skin.

Your eyes widen as you scan his toned torso. “Running, huh?” you mutter teasingly, stroking your hand down his warm abdomen.

“Huh?” Carmen’s caught off guard, eyes following your hand. “Oh I — I do push-ups — erm — press-ups — sometimes. When I can't sleep.”

God, why is he sheepish? “And how much do you actually sleep?”

“Couple of hours,” he says, but the second word ends up cut off by a gasp as you touch Carmen’s dick, tugging it out from his underwear. He hisses, hips lifting up with the sensation, and you can see his tummy muscles contracting. You start stroking him slowly, as much as the angle allows you, trying out a firmer grip and then loosening up.

Not wanting to make Carmen uncomfortable with shameless staring, you press your face into the outer side of his arm, watching him from under his shoulder wordlessly. Based purely on his facial expressions, you adjust your fingers on his dick, and the rhythm. As expected, Carmy is utterly quiet, his strong jaw clenching. Only here and there, he lets out a harsh breath that you count as a victory. The t-shirt you have your nose buried in smells of generic laundry detergent, cigarettes, and caramelized onion. It also smells like Carmen — like a guy and antiperspirant.

It’s not long before Carmy squirms — “I’m not gonna last long,” he says, fists balling, and it’s so obvious he’s been holding himself back from fucking up into your hand that you feel almost sorry for him. On the other hand, this small thing between you is so fragile, and you are so anxious that you are going to fuck up, so you just bite your tongue and don’t comment on it.

“It’s fine,” you say low, lips moving against the t-shirt again, pretending you have not been watching his every expression, reading deep into every blink of his eyes, every time he wets his lips, jerks his pelvis up a bare inch with pleasure. The tip of his dick is as cherry pink as his lips are, you notice desperately, and you know this image is going to haunt you forever.

“It’s fine,” you repeat sweetly, speeding up your movements, and then Carmen is coming, thick ropes of it landing on your fingers and your wrist and his t-shirt that’s fallen back down over his stomach. He shakes with the force of his orgasm, and you watch his body in awe as it goes through it, still touching him, feeling the hot, slippery skin of his dick in your hand.

The rush of emotions is so strong that you almost panic. Then you look left and up at Carmen—he’s trying to catch his breath, his big eyes are glassy, and his lips are shiny with his own spit, and in that very moment, you believe that he can see right into the core of your own being.

You want to cradle his jaw and kiss him. Instead, you look away faster than he can. Miraculously, a box of Kleenex sits on the coffee table by the sofa, and you reach over to hand it to Carmen.

Next to you, you hear, more than see, Carmen wipe down the mess, pulling his t-shirt back down.

There are two options—either you get up quickly and this is all over for now, or you acknowledge what just happened and try to be all mature about it. To your own surprise, you go with the latter, turning to Carmen, reaching out to touch his forearm lightly.

He looks over at you and smiles, small and gentle.Then he leans in and kisses you on the lips before standing up.

“Can I smoke in here?” he asks, already searching his pockets.

“Yeah. From the kitchen window,” you point in the general direction of the window. There’s a chopped tomato can serving as an ashtray on the outside windowsill. Without a second look, you disappear into the bathroom to fix your damp underwear.

The night stretches, and Carmy never leaves. After his smoke break, you expect things to be awkward. But they aren’t. You split the two-day-old dinner leftovers—vegan spaghetti bolognese from Mikaela—and you eat it on the same sofa where you had been touching and kissing twenty minutes ago, while watching Modern Family, just to have something to fill in the silence that could become uncomfortable.

Carmen changes into your old baggy t-shirt. No denying that you would prefer him without it, but he asks for it himself. When he comes out of the bathroom and lies next to you, he smells of mint, and you hope he didn��t use your toothbrush without asking—because, “bleh”—and he reads your mind, because he says, “I brushed with toothpaste on my finger,” and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin.

You don’t know how, but you both fall asleep.

The stirring in the bed next to you is what wakes you up. Used to sleeping in your double bed by yourself, it takes your hazy brain a moment to remember that it’s not the case tonight. The light from the streetlamp filtering through the window blinds falls on the man next to you. You watch him wriggle under the sheet, sleepy and unguarded. He looks like an innocent boy—with his puffy eyes and messy hair falling over his forehead. 

Meanwhile, Carmen’s eyes open and find yours. You’re unsure of what he sees on your face, but he outstretches his arm to touch your bare shoulder, and shuffles closer. Your stomach twists at the nearness.

“You okay?” you whisper groggily. “Aren’t you cold?”

He only shakes his head.

“Okay,” you nod into the pillow, daring to run the pads of your fingers along his forearm, stroking. Carmen’s skin here is baby soft, with no hairs on the inner side. You enjoy his quiet hum as you use your nails lightly. He closes his eyes momentarily, and you would say he shivers, but you can’t be sure.

You’re surrounded by the quiet of the night; even the neighbors above must be asleep because you can’t hear their annoying heavy steps. Tomorrow, you won’t be sure if you dreamt this moment.

“Sleep,” you whisper again, something primal overtaking you as you reach further into Carmy’s hair, smoothing down the tangled curls and continuing over the shell of his ear. Carmen watches you for a little longer until he relaxes completely, his blinks getting longer. You’re so caught up in the rare moment of stillness that you don’t realize at first that he’s falling asleep, until his heavy breathing indicates that he’s gone.

[dontcallpanic]

WIP not-wednesday!

I was tagged by the absolutely incredible @seaweed-water and if you haven't read their latest WIP you need to go and do that now! It's dark and sinister and just has everything for all of your murder husband needs. Holy shit it's good!

I mean, I can't follow that example at all and I've been struggling over this for weeks but here's what I have so far although this bit also needs some credit because while this is from a dream I had (yeah I know...) I am certain the dream was inspired by mwsog.cymru's instagram (they go Hard on the weird welsh folk stuff) and @dear-massacre 's Bruised like Violets which continues to haunt me months later in the best kind of way. https://archiveofourown.org/works/46402561/chapters/116830630

It's only loosely related to this snippet but I love bruised like violets with all my heart and I think everyone should read it - and well, credit where credit is due.

So thanks everyone and here you go!

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Stiles is lost. Again. This time, however, he doesn't have the safety of his Jeep around him. This time, he is alone, deep in the forest. Ghostly mist curls lazily through the trees, clinging to the leaves strewn across the floor, weaving between bent and twisted trunks. Above him, the moon hangs round and full in the freezing sky and all around the tall spires of the pines press close, scattering the moonlight across the ground. His breath coils like smoke in the frigid air, the only sign of life in an otherwise deserted forest. Nothing moves. There's nothing for miles that makes a single sound – not even his feet on the frost bitten ground. It's like the whole forest is holding its breath. Between the filtered moonlight, the night is black as pitch and all he can see, creeping in the corner of his eye, are two red rings of light. They appear out of nothing, stalking him through the trees, drifting from shadow to shadow. Taking their time. Stiles picks up the pace, sneakers still eerily silent on the frosted leaves - but he tries not to walk too fast, now. He doesn't want to look too much like prey to whatever it is thats hunting in the dark. He presses forward, stumbling his way around the roots and trunks and the eyes match his progress, step for step. It only occurs to him then to wonder, when did the red eyed monster start hunting him? Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? Reluctantly he slows his pace again, hands curling into fists by his side, muscles tensing as he steels himself. Whatever it is, he'll meet it head on. He spins around but trips on the uneven ground. His arms spiral out for balance but the distraction costs him greatly and between one moment and the next, the eyes have gone. And strangely the absence actually hurts, a deep ache lodged deep in his chest. His heart begins to hammer even harder against his ribs. An all too familiar sensation of late.

The wind picks up from nowhere, rustling the stubborn leaves, the first sound he's heard in this isolated place. The frozen air sweeps across his brow, kisses his cheeks and pulls the blood to the surface. Pink stains blooming across his skin. Something cracks behind him. He spins again, eyes wild as he scans the trees for the red-eyed monster but it's nowhere to be seen. Instead, looming over him, towering towards the moon, is the burnt out, rotting husk of a house. Stiles stares up at the frame, monsters in the dark temporarily forgotten as he gapes up at the windowless frames that blankly gaze out towards the forest like sockets in a skull. The whole place reeks of bitter ashes and death, the acrid scent of smoke clinging to the mist where it curls around his ankles. Stark patterns of frost have curled around the blackened frame, the door hangs crooked on its hinges, jagged splinters snarling like teeth in the maw of some long forgotten god.

Dread trickles down his spine and coils in his gut. The remains look so violent for something so still. An entire family burned to death. Only the innocent left to face the consequences and he knows there's no justice here. Only grief. He shudders despite not feeling the cold, standing where the trees and moss give way to ash and charred remains. The line between life and death is stark, as if something in the forest recognises just what was ripped away here, leaving nothing but a festering wound. All around him, nature waits, biding its time as if that is all it needs to heal. Then, between one moment and the next, Stiles knows he is not alone any more. There is something in the darkness with him. Something lurking in the trees Behind him. His whole body seizes, freezing fingertips crawl up his back and he turns slowly, ever so slowly, staring hard into the corner of his eye. He expects to see red, slipping between the trees. That would almost be a comfort. Instead, he sees antlers and the long, wicked lines of a bleach-white skull. Stiles flinches back, his hands reaching out, the sound dying in his throat as the skull turns to look directly at him, empty, eternal sockets, piercing and full of intent. A breath of wind shudders through the branches around him, the whole forest rippling with the echoes of an ancient, rotting power, drawn irresistibly in towards them. He can't move. He can't fucking move.

The creature seems to glide forward, moonlight disappearing into the endless darkness of its cloaked body. It makes no sound as it closes in, the ground beneath it remaining untouched. Something fractures inside him and Stiles stumbles backwards, staggering out of the treeline. His feet disturb the ash, small eddies billowing around his feet and still the creature follows.

Ice cold fingers grab his jaw and he is forced to stop. His head is held immobile by strong bone-sharp fingertips but there's nothing there - nothing that he can see. When he raises one shaking hand to his jaw, he only finds his own stubbled skin. Yet the fingers remain, forcing his eyes to meet the gaping sockets of the skull as it drifts closer and closer until it is close enough to kiss.

Ash curls up around them, puffs of air catching at where his fingertips now hang uselessly by his side. Faintly he's aware that there is something caught in the wind – a sound, something reminiscent of words. The skull twists, tilting to the side, it's grinning teeth glinting sharply in the moonlight. It commands his focus, forces him to listen. It sounds almost like a voice, a woman's whisper, caught and carried, barely there, lost to the air. It sounds almost like a wish. Almost like a curse.

Come home, my darling.

Stiles jerks awake as if someone has blasted an air horn in his ear. He pistons upright, almost overbalancing the chair and grips hold of the desk to stabilise himself just in time. Holy shit. It was a dream! It was a mother fucking dream.

He swears loudly into the silence scrubbing a shaking hand through his hair. Fuck. His subconscious must be on one if that was what it was coming up with. Stag skulls and full moons and the burnt out Hale house. The red eyes almost seem secondary when faced with all that shit. He places a hand on his chest, oddly reassured by the hammering of his own heart after the stillness of the woods. Jesus Christ. He feels like he has been asking this a lot recently but seriously - what the fuck? What the absolute fuck?

______________________________________________

Gentle no pressure tags to: @gege-wondering-around @patolemus @hellameyers and anyone else who wants to share!

[katealpha]

Art by @Dizy_Wata_Toons

—-————————————-

Prologue:

Shortly after the year 2026 began, the Earth was suddenly visited by a fleet of massive saucer ships. There was panic at first, with many seeing this as the beginning of an alien invasion. However, contact was made between the two, and over a few months, humanity began to learn more about the Serpent Empire.

Predominantly made up of clones, the serpent species were born to serve their leaders, with the most efficient way of growing new clones being through the natural reproductive system. For eons, the serpents were conquerors, taking resources and women from various planets to serve as revered but captive broodmares for the aliens. By the time the serpents discovered earth, they’d expanded and taken so much control that the breeding program was entirely voluntary. Once diplomatic ties were made, the serpents began to integrate themselves into Earth’s societies. Chiefly, they advertised the breeding program and offered unbelievable amounts of money to volunteers.

This is where Nina Gao came in.

Nina was an actress who had recently started to gain traction in Hollywood. Seeing an opportunity to boost her career and help bridge the gap between Earth and the serpents, she had her agent contact the empire and soon, there was a drop ship hovering in front of her penthouse balcony….

# 1 Week Later….

A a phone camera began to record, standing up on a small tripod. The subject was Nina, who after a week of thinking, decided how she’d record the progress of what was happening to her. In short, she was pregnant. The operation done on her was a success.

Once she saw that she was being recorded live on YouTube, she smiled and stepped back so the camera could capture her from the thighs up. Now that she was in frame, she waved.

“Hey everyone! Nina here. I don’t normally upload to my official YouTube channel, but this is a very special occasion. Some of you might already know what this is about if you follow my Twitter and Instagram, but I’ll explain it again here. So, those serpent empire aliens who’ve been chilling out around our planet? Well, they’ve been basically doing help wanted ads for their breeding program.” The actress sneered slightly. “I know it sounds super weird, but they assured me that it was refined and safe for humanoids like me. Yeah, I kinda called them to volunteer. Why? Because I think having at least one movie star hear them out will make things between our kinds. That, and I’ll admit, I’m making twice as much as I would on a normal gig. If you’re watching at home and struggling with your bills…I’d probably think about it.” She gave a rather awkward chuckle before she changed subjects.

“Anyways, the procedure wasn’t really bad. They did it exactly a week ago, so as I’m recording this, I am pregnant with their kind. Just to make it fully known. In fact I’ve already started showing. They told me that the pregnancy would last about a month.” She sighed. “So yeah, hopefully it’ll all turn out okay. But here, let me show you guys the progress so far.”

Nina zipped down her thin sweatshirt and revealed her bare stomach to the camera. While she was hardly completely toned around her tummy, a turn to the side showed that something was different. Her stomach looked like she’d eaten too much at a restaurant. Like an average food baby one would see on tik tok or even that side of YouTube.

“You can definitely notice a little when I turn to the side. That’s gonna get a lot bigger over the next few weeks, and they already told me that I’m gonna start getting growth spurts and cravings soon. So yeah, can’t wait for that crap to get started. I’m just glad I only have voice roles to worry about for a while. I don’t know if I can go on a set with how nauseous I’ve been feeling all week. They basically plumped this concoction of their DNA and other stuff into my body, which forms into their version of babies over a month. Don’t worry, it was through my belly button and it didn’t even hurt. It felt weird but it wasn’t like getting a syringe poked into you.”

As she finished saying this, her stomach audibly rumbled on camera. She looked down and blinked. “Ugh, I just got super hungry. I’m gonna end this video now. Please keep things respectful in the comments, and it’ll be seeing you in the next update.” Nina reached over and ended the live feed to upload it fully. Afterwards, she went directly to the Door Dash app, all while her stomach moaned and gurgled deeply…

[felixx1e]

☆» Felix ✧ 18 yrs ★ᯓ

⊹ ₊ PHIGHTING! artist ₊ ⊹

╰❯ ⚂ He/Him ⚂ ❯

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Haiii, I'm Felix :3 I've been playing phighting for a little over a year now, and I've been really wanting to show off my fan art.... I get a little nervous with it because I feel a little embarrassed but y'know!!

I mainly draw Subspace (as evident) because he's my favorite character!! But I do draw the others :3! I main Rocket, Skateboard, Boombox, and Subspace when I play phighting!

As i stated before I mostly draw Subspace, but I also usually draw Skateboard, Medkit, and Hyperlaser!

I do really want to get into the fandom, so asks are appreciated :3!!

If you want to see my designs of individual Phighters, I have a carrd in progress! (this post will be updated)

As for ships, I ship the following (but I'm very open-minded when it comes to them, so I recognize the potential when it comes to it)!!

Subkit - Hyperspace - Skateshot - Swocket - Hypertana - Boomskateshot - Medbox - Hyperspacekit (... i love polycules.. X3)

I have ADHD, and im transgender ^^!! I suffer a lot from artblock mostly because I lose motivation once i start something... But I try my best to do what I can! I'll probably post sketches and similar things because of it :3 Full artworks will still be uploaded, just less frequently... I'll also be posting WIPs!

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『✦』 “My greatest Invention!!” 『✦』

I might respond to asks as Subspace because I love him and you guys can't stop me. When I do, I'll color it pink! Not exclusive to him, of course, but it might be more often hehe. Probably WILL say ooc stuff (dont hate me)

My Socials! Feel free to dm me anywhere, I really like making friends!

Discord: felixxie

Roblox: felixx_ie

Instagram: felixx_ie

Tiktok: f3lixxie

Heres my music taste for those interested X3!!!

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[logansargeantsbabymom]

Helloa, i saw you do write for f2 drivers. Can i request 'somethimg to remember' by Matt Hansen with Dennis hauger?

Something To Remember

Dennis Hauger x Fem!Reader

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the Silverstone Circuit. I stood by the paddock, my heart racing as I watched Dennis prepare for another race. The roar of engines filled the air, a symphony I had grown to love since the day I met Dennis. But today, something felt different. The weight of our last argument lingered, and Matt Hansen’s song "Something To Remember" echoed in my mind.

*"The memories come but they don't go,"* I thought, feeling the ache in my chest as I recalled our happier times. *"I hear the echoes pounding in my head."* Life with Dennis had its challenges, especially with his demanding schedule and the constant pressure to perform. But through it all, there was an undeniable love that kept us together.

Dennis climbed into his car, and I could see the determination in his eyes. He looked over at me and gave me a reassuring smile, which I returned with a wave, my heart swelling with pride and anxiety. The green flag waved, and the cars took off, speeding down the track with a ferocity that never failed to take my breath away.

*"As long as I keep my eyes closed, you're lying right back in my arms again,"* I reflected, watching Dennis maneuver through the tight corners with precision and skill. His determination and passion for racing were part of what made me fall in love with him, but they also made every race a nerve-wracking experience.

I thought back to our last argument, the one where we both shouted things we didn't mean. Racing took so much of his time and energy, leaving me feeling lonely and sometimes neglected. I knew it wasn’t his fault; he was chasing his dreams, and I admired him for that. But it was hard to always be supportive when I missed him so much.

*"I moved out but I never moved on, so tell me now, where did we go so wrong?"* I mused, feeling the weight of our relationship's ups and downs. I knew we had to cherish the good moments, hold onto them tightly, to help us through the tougher times.

The race progressed, and Dennis fought hard for every position. I could see the focus etched on his face, every muscle in his body taut with concentration. I held my breath as he made daring overtakes, my heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of the engines.

*"I was your something once, the picture on your dresser. When did I become your something to remember?"* I reminded myself, gripping the edge of the barrier in front of me. The support from the other drivers' partners and the fans around me was comforting, but nothing could quell the anxiety that bubbled within me.

As the final laps approached, Dennis was in third place, pushing hard to close the gap between him and the leader. The tension was palpable, every second feeling like an eternity. I could barely breathe as he made his move, overtaking the second-place car with a skillful maneuver.

*"All of my friends were wrong, they said that I'll forget him. But he's the kinda song you could play forever,"* I thought, watching him navigate the track with a blend of caution and aggression that took my breath away. It was a reminder of why I fell in love with him in the first place—his tenacity, his passion, his never-give-up attitude.

The checkered flag waved, and Dennis crossed the finish line in second place. The crowd erupted into cheers, and I found myself jumping up and down with excitement. Tears of joy streamed down my face as I watched him pull into the pit lane, the team surrounding him in celebration.

“Ohh-oh-oh, I thought we had it all. I was your something once, now you found something better. How did I become just something to remember?" I whispered to myself, feeling a rush of relief and pride. Dennis climbed out of the car and immediately looked for me. Our eyes met, and I ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck as he lifted me off the ground.

"You did it, Dennis!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with emotion. "I'm so proud of you."

He kissed me deeply, his hands holding me tightly. "I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You're my rock, my everything."

“Do you think of me at all? Or have I never crossed your mind again?" I thought, feeling the truth of those words in every fiber of my being. No matter the challenges we faced, our love was the anchor that kept us grounded.

As we walked back to the team, hand in hand, I knew that whatever the future held, we would face it together. Dennis squeezed my hand, pulling me closer as we weaved through the celebrating crowd.

Later that evening, as the festivities wound down and the garage grew quiet, we found a moment alone. Dennis had changed out of his race suit and into something more comfortable, but he still carried the aura of a champion. He sat beside me, our fingers intertwined.

"Do you ever think about the future?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "About what comes after racing?"

Dennis looked at me, his expression softening. "All the time," he admitted. "I think about you, us, what we could build together."

I felt a lump form in my throat. "It's hard, Dennis. The distance, the uncertainty. Sometimes I wonder if we’re strong enough to make it through."

He turned to face me fully, his eyes intense. "We are strong enough, Y/N. We've already come so far. Remember what Matt Hansen sings? 'We’ve come so far, don’t let it slip away.' We’ve got to hold on tight, and fight another day."

His words, borrowed from the song that had been a silent companion to our relationship, brought tears to my eyes. "I love you, Dennis. More than anything. And I want this, us, to work."

He pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. "It will work, Y/N. Because we’ll make it work. No matter how tough things get, I’ll always be here for you."

As we sat there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, I knew that our journey wouldn’t always be easy. There would be more races, more nights apart, more arguments. But there would also be love, laughter, and moments like this, where we remembered why we fought so hard to stay together.

"Something to remember, something to hold on to, it’s the love we share, that’s gonna get us through,"* I repeated to myself, feeling the truth of those words wrap around my heart like a warm blanket. No matter what challenges lay ahead, I knew we would face them together, and that was something truly worth remembering.

[blue-thief]

@galaxynajma here are the actor/artist/writer isakainess hcs i mentioned earlier 🫡 (this got wayy longer than i was expecting it to be so it's basically a fic outline atp

kaiser started off as a child actor which explains... everything

when he was really young he popped up in a few roles for some pretty big movies

his biggest role as a kid though came when he was about ten where he played a big supporting character in a long-running kids' sitcom (think stuff like hannah montana, icarly, etc)

he's more or less cut off contact with his parents but he was fortunate to get a hold of his money once he turned 18

he's since moved out, rents out his own modest apartment, and he's shown up in a few moderately successful things

he's far from being an a-list actor but he's got a decent following

even though most people wouldn't be able to recognize his face, he can mention the stuff he's been in and people will be like "ohh yeah i've heard of that, i've been meaning to check it out"

he usually has to wear makeup to cover up his tattoo. most of his notable roles came before he cut + dyed his hair

his goal is to become an oscar-winning actor and he was able to get the lead role for a really serious film. his new hair just happened to suit the role

meanwhile there's ness the writer

he started off studying something STEM-related to appease his parents. besides, he needs a backup plan just in case the whole writing thing doesn't work out

but he soon dropped out due to being overwhelmed by how intense his competition was

fortunately enough he's still in contact with an ex classmate and he got some money doing copywriting for their side gig's website

on top of that he started submitting flash fiction and poetry to different competitions and magazines like CRAZYYY just to make a little more money

kaiser stumbles across one of his pieces, looks into him a little more, and finds ness's personal blog

he reads up on ness ranting about his parents and how he has no money

at this point kaiser's kinda fallen in love but he doesn't wanna seem too weird

and he reaches out to ness saying, "hey ik this sounds kinda weird but if you really wanna pursue your dreams but you're low on money you can become my roommate"

at first ness is like "wtf is this guy gonna try to kill me"

but he's late on rent and about to get evicted so he's DESPERATE

he agrees to meet kaiser to assess the vibes

and well. obviously ness falls head over heels in love with kaiser

(obv kaiser isn't gonna kill ness but don't follow in ness's footsteps guys you probably won't end up being as lucky)

and it works out great. kaiser's more than happy to cover most of the rent, he's out most of the time filming, and ness just has this bigass apartment where he's got ample space to work

anyway while kaiser's out and about one day he's at this cafe

there's this one worker on break, still in his apron and everything

he's off in the corner doodling something

the worker is isagi

and kaiser notices isagi is drawing HIM

kaiser goes up to him all smug like "wow, are you a fan? you want an autograph?"

and isagi's like "bro idfk who you are i just really liked your tattoo"

they talk a bit and isagi tells kaiser where he can find more of his work

isagi's mostly focused on digital art and commissions but he's also studying animation

kaiser finds his instagram and commissions isagi

"that napkin doodle you made of me was pretty good but i'd love to see how well you can capture my beauty given ample time (and money) ;)"

kaiser quickly becomes isagi's most frequent and highest paying client

you can say he's basically become isagi's (and to an extent ness's) sugar daddy

but kaiser likes to think of himself of those wealthy patrons from the renaissance

kaiser loved swinging by the cafe to ask about isagi's progress on his latest commission

one day he overheard isagi panicking about not being able to pay rent

and kaiser's like "you can move in with me and my roommate if you want"

and well. isagi does exactly that

ness kinda gets all crazy and possessive like "WHO'S THIS HOW DID YOU MEET HIM HOW DO YOU KNOW HE'S NOT-"

suffice to say he and isagi don't get along at first

but kaiser's never home so it's mostly just them on opposite sides of the apartment, sending glares at each other every now and then

it's BECAUSE kaiser is never around that isagi and ness are forced to bond with each other eventually

FUCK THIS POSTED INSTEAD OF GETTING SAVED AS A DRAFT

oh whatever i'll probably make this into a fic and fill in the rest that way 😭😭

[tea-and-secrets]

So I have this ex and found out something recently

Context: I have BPD and I’ve known it for a while, been diagnosed since 2020. I’ve got a good handle on it and treat people kindly and don’t lash out and tbh. If you met me IRL you could go for a pretty long time without knowing I’ve got it. But privately it is so hard to deal with.

I get so obsessive about stuff, and mean. And weird. And I know thought crimes aren’t a thing and most of me doesn’t think this stuff but the BPD part of me does. And when I can’t get a handle on an urge…

Like ok recently. I had this ex of mine and the relationship was…codependent. Toxic but not in an abuse way more like, codependent toxicity— it didn’t help that it was a classic “he’s an asshole to everyone BUT me and i was the shy insecure I can fix him” type person at the time typa codependent. With mental health issues on both sides (including s*lf h*rm (which he introduced me to) and s*icidality) and then also a few years after we broke up he dated my best friend, and then cheated on them and I had to be in the middle of that (my best friend and I clown on him for that to this day it was. So mf pathetic and a whole other story)

and then even after we broke up it was this weird vibe between us. But I didn’t wanna get back together. It was more like he was still enamored with me and I was just happy to have someone care about me deeply as a friend. And I guess I liked the power imbalance a little too. When I look back at our convos I cringe. But it was nice having someone I’ve known that long still care about me in that way. Someone who would pick me up in his car at the drop of a hat if I needed help. And I know he only did it because he was still into me. Still codependent and weird.

But anyways. I stopped talking to him a few years ago because of some behavior of his I couldn’t tolerate. I’ve been spending the last few years healing/getting over that codependency and the way our relationship and friendship made me feel (both good and bad) and how it fed into my BPD, obsessive tendencies, jealousy and toxicity. And getting better. I’ve made good progress and probably in a year or so I would have found myself full closure, even with my BPD!

But recently I realized on accident that he’s fully blocked me on EVERYTHING and let’s be clear here, he’s not a block people type of person—- he’s an actual asshole but he literally cannot care enough to block people and never has. He’s not even on social media often. He did however get a new girlfriend recently (he’s had a few over the years so me being in OR out of his life has never been an issue with that) and it seems like he blocked me around the same time that happened.

wtf????? Why does this bother me so much. It feels like I just had my closure ripped away from me. It feels like something that was done TO me which like, it was?? But I guess I didn’t need to know he was still thinking about me while I was still thinking about him yk??? Like that’s either a strong emotional thing that he decided to do that’s totally out of character or his girlfriend stalked my Instagram after realizing he followed me and made him block me. Which makes me feel some type of way. Like that was my chapter of MY life that he forcibly took 💀 that’s what it feels like in BPD headquarters anyways. OR his girlfriend was threatened by someone he doesn’t even talk to. Which BPD headquarters wants to take as a compliment. I cannot win.

The day that happened, I made a fake insta for a fake person and made it look as legitimate as possible just to try to follow him on insta and keep tabs. I like. Spent a good hour on it too. It was obsessive. I stopped just short of actually following him. Bc I feel like. That would be crossing a line.

But it’s hard not to follow through and be toxic and weird. And ok I know people have done worse with BPD, I’ve even done worse while much younger. But I’m at an age and a place in my progress where this feels so. UGH. I just. I don’t act on things like that often anymore bc USUALLY i can force the urge and obsession away. I feel so gross even having done that. But I still won’t delete the insta. And I want so badly to like basically cyberstalk this guy so I have “control” over the situation again. I literally don’t even wanna talk to him I JUST wanna keep tabs on him. I’m having a hard time not thinking about this. The only thing that’s helping is talking to friends about unrelated stuff but as of now we’re long distance and I gotta wait til the weekends.

I wanna be clear here I’m not gonna go any further bc I don’t think I could live with myself if I did, and I know I’m better than that. But the confession box is a confession box lol

.

[shrekgogurt]

Well folks. I’m on my substitute teaching grind again this week! Scheduled each day up in hopes of getting some good writing done. I did on Monday! And then proceeded to finally start reading @ninemagicks Game/Set/Match yesterday and did that every bell so uhhhhhh. Today………..well ummmmm…..yeah today I worked on chapter graphics because I’m in big procrastination mode. I want to keep riding this wave of engagement (that sounds corporate gross) but I’m also very much in my head about delivering. I should probably channel this energy into writing the chapter since such pressure is Baz’s literal arc but uhhhhhhhh why do that when I could Simon avoid. I love being mentally well!

One might say I need to find my own bravado. (more under the cut)

lol the chapter title for 13 is bravado by lorde

ok anyway

“Work In Progress Wednesday” right? That means I can talk about the progress of every part of the process? Huh? Yeah? Are you gonna stop me? TRY! TRY TO STOP ME!

Aggression aside, let’s get into it.

As previously stated on Sunday, we find ourselves at intermission. But that’s just the theatrical way of slicing up the story. The fun thing about 24 chapters (I got rid of my originally planned intermission chapter because I didn’t want to write it anymore) is that math really loves the number 24. It’s scrumptious. Yummily divisible. Ergo, IKABIKAM also has/is/will be deliciously divided. Afterall, I do keep saying I’m cooking on it.

Now, to put @alexalexinii on blast (sorry for perceiving you), they wrote in the tags of a Chapter 12 reblog: #made me realise that this fic had proper arcs? And I grinned. I cackled. I rubbed my grubby little hands together at the top of my tower as I’ve been doing this whole time because oh ARCS???????? YOU WANT ARCS???????????? I’VE GOT ARCS LYING IN WAIT LIKE YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE. (I love overselling myself.)

Allow me to let you in on some of the building blocks thus far.

Chapters 1, 2, 3: a complicated reunion which is shaky but ultimately sets up

Chapters 4, 5, 6: developing the friendship which is a crucial foundation for

Chapters 7, 8, 9: the gay (Baz’s increasingly more external “hi i’m gay”, Simon’s internal “oh wait me too”) which then explodes into

Chapters 10, 11, 12: all that political parent stuff that’s been hinted at in passing which is BIG relevant and incredibly intertwined in this tangled up mess that leads into the work of….

You get it. They’re mini trilogies. Don’t ask me about dividing the chapters into groups of four because I didn’t have that in mind while writing. I like threes better. Always have. Absolute banger of a prime number.

If you for some reason want to read more about the structure, I write a little more about it in this wipsday from when I was procrastinating 9.

Now, @cutestkilla keeps telling me I’m at the downward slope now but honestly delivering on what I’ve set up scares the shit out of me WAY more than the grunt work. I’m uhhhhh yeah. This is why I’m chronically unable to finish projects but by GOD I will finish this one. I swear by it.

So here are three sentences. You get to guess from who and when.

Loving him comes as naturally as breathing. It’s intuitive when I’m not thinking. Or rather, when I’m not panicking.

If you want to follow along with all the songs I’m hyperfixating on as inspiration I’ve been sharing them over on the “shrogurt” instagram. There’s nothing I love more than talking way too much about this damn fic. Thanks for reading!

And thank you for the tags today: @nausikaaa @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @artsyunderstudy @prettygoododds @emeryhall

Now tagging: @brilla-brilla-estrellita @captain-aralias @dani-vc @ebbpettier @excalisbury @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @hagnoart @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse @j-nipper-95 @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @messofthejess @moodandmist @mooncello @nightimedreamersworld @onepintobean @palimpsessed @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @theearlgreymage @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @valeffelees @whogaveyoupermission @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[witch-hazels-musings]

hi! i saw that you wrote a novel (that might be getting published?) and i'm really curious to know what pushed you to start, how was the progress, and do you have an editor + are you self-publishing or are you with a publishing company! writing a novel is a dream of mine but it feel so far-fetched. it's inspiring to see that you've written one, and i would like to know how i might do the same too, if you don't mind sharing! -- @milkstore

hello fellow author <3 im so excited to hear about your dream! there are countless stories out there, but no one can write yours :)

as for what made me start - it was you all. the constant support, love and encouragement, and providing me inspiration and opportunities to practice with characters I love in a world that's fantastical.

my main character was inspired by a genshin OC that I had (Fai) and blossomed into who she is now!

my process was pretty simple really. I started with a general plot. identified what I wanted to happen in the story and the beats (points) i wanted to hit along the way, then I flushed out the two main characters and started writing their story.

after getting draft 0 i realized the plot (especially in the middle) wasn't working. in fact, it suuuucked. so I did some edits, a lot of cutting and rewriting and then I got a beta reader - they liked it, but I didn't - enter my work on draft 3. Now my story has substance, it has way more engagement and a lot better characters.

My next steps will be to read it out loud for another round of edits and - as I go - really ensure my character motivations are in there, the plot (where the whole story ends up) has build-up, and that I'm not going to set myself up for continuity errors. Once that is done I have two options

I can send it off to an editor I found and like, have them look it over and give me feedback - make changes - and then start querying for agents

I found a potential publisher that works with indie authors GreenLeaf Book Group. They might help me with editing, story, and other things if they like what i have - so i can skip some of the steps myself! - They seem very promising and actually may be a good place to start right out of the gate, but I've always been told to never give a publisher nothing (well, unless you're already working with them lol)

From here, the end goal is traditional publishing but i have a few barriers to that. 1. my book is too long, 2. it may not be as engaging as they may like, 2. it's a duology (publishers don't often pick up debut authors that pitch more than one book to them (i.e. they want a standalone before investing their time and money into the book)

Of course, I'll keep you all updated as I go -- you can also follow me on Instagram! I post updates there and information about my book :) --- you can find it via my Author Cardd

I won't gatekeep or tell you this process was easy. It wasn't - but it was rewarding, perfect, and brought me closer to my dream. To be able to look back and tell my younger self we wrote a book is everything to me - her stories deserve to live, as do yours <3

I'm rooting for you.

You got this

OH AND join writing groups! I am now the moderator of one - The Writers Factory. I give lots of advice there and feedback on peoples stories when I can. I also post some writing exercises and other stuff (its not a social discord though - the mods are very strict lol - its for working on your book/story/ect. -- so feel free to join us if this is something you want!)

[torque-witch]

Meet the Witch - 2024 Edition

Honestly I have not introduced myself in a LONG time because I've had this account since 2014 ish - so in case there are new people here this can be a good reference point.

So hi, hello - this is me in 2024. You can call me Cara but most people here know me as Torque! My pronouns are They/Them and I am currently 32 and married. I live in Pittsburgh, PA.

Most people know me for my devotion to Hel, Norse goddess of Death and my art of her!

(My hair is a bit longer so I just pull it back - but I barely take pictures anymore. Anyhow -)

What's new?

Still chronically ill and disabled; in 2024 we are still recovering from medical trauma that induced two phobias, POTS-like symptoms and a mystery digestive issue that is probably the severe IBS my meds that caused the trauma were controlling.

I am currently and hopefully to stay fully self-employed after finally getting off my feet from said trauma that left me pretty house-bound for a year. Somewhere in there I got a job with a catering company that truly was terrorizing, never reported me for taxes and therefore fucked up my finance history.

But, in 2024 so far I have done a good amount of shows and toured again briefly with the Oddities & Curiosities Expo group in cities outside of PA and that was incredible! I grew a lot as an artist, and it really helped me to work through some of my phobias and continue to stabilize.

You can find my Etsy here but I am focusing most of my efforts on shows! It would be best to follow my Instagram to keep up with events and new products!

Otherwise I've just been focusing on adulting and trying to fix our finances so that we can actually buy a house someday (hopefully).

A fun fact is that I started listening to ATEEZ in mid-2023 and got to see them in concert in DC this year as a bday gift to myself. It was absolutely the most incredible thing I've ever experienced. They are PERFORMERS.

If you're still on the fence about listening to Kpop, you're missing out! I poo-pooed it for a long time as cringey, but ATEEZ has very progressive lyrics and most of the fan-base in real life are alternative women and enby's in their 20's and 30's. Seriously the most fun I've ever had.

Other than that if I need to state it again, this page is for representation and acceptance of all forms and hate will not be tolerated. It's impossible to write out all the ways that people can be hateful but basically don't be a nazi or phobic in any way.

Not much else happened this year except a bunch of small-town drama associated with said catering company (story time?) and shit with our previous landlord (we moved). I made some really good local friends that I'm so appreciative of, and joined a DnD campaign for the first time!

My character is Ashaf Tendara, an Arcana Cleric archeologist who accidentally found some ruins of Ubtao and now unfortunately because of one of the sessions, their way of spell-casting is just screaming T-rex noises for ten minutes straight (Ubtao is related to dinosaurs somehow). We've finally emerged from the poop dungeons in said campaign, and some of those interactions I've wrote down are truly incredible. My Mage Hand is also a spectral sticky hand. My husband's steel defender's name is Duke Poop'em because of said poop dungeons.

I also read manga, watch anime and still read young adult fantasy at my big age (Adult SciFi is sooooo dense omg but it just takes me longer lol) and watch cozy game and horror playthroughs on YouTube. I listen to podcasts a lot about the paranormal, true crime and reddit readings.

Basically I'm a chronically ill and online shut-in artist with some witchy stuff sprinkled up in there.

I hope that was exciting and super informative. If you have any questions please send them in!

-Torque

[stardewvalleybut-i-draw]

Qna Answers!

Ever since you mentioned that you do darker art besides stardew I've been super curious! Is there anywhere we can follow your work?

NOPE! this is more or less the first time I had much of a social media presence, I did make an Instagram when I was around 12 but I lost the password to it, and honestly... It's best I never find it...BUT I would like to post my other art somewhere! Let me know what social media I should use If you have ideas and I'll go make one! :D

I could use Instagram again but I haven't heard too many great things since I left.

What’s your favorite thing about Stardew? Do you have any other games you’d like to make comics about?

I love the fishing and mining aspect of the game! that and the mini-games. You'd think it be the socializing aspect with what I make but there's just something satisfying about making progress in the mines or getting that impossible to catch fish.

I don't usually have a lot of money to spend on games so I tend to go indie but I also never expected to be making art about Stardew so not really. If I like the characters, I might make comics about them but this is the first time I've done comics about games ever so maybe in the future.

Who is your least favorite bachelor and bachelorette

This was a really hard question to answer, I don't have a least favorite bachelor or bachelorette, I just have favorites. The main reason why is because I've either met people who are like the bachelor's or I can relate to them on a personal level so it's hard for me to dislike anyone BUT THATS A COP OUT ANSWER so I really pushed myself to find something to not like.

I'm gonna get torched but Elliot- gifts are super expensive to get, I know I can just give neural gifts but it's a bad habit of mine of going for the loved gifts and my guys got EXPENSIVE tastes or gifts that aren't easy to get BUT It fits his character as it implies he came from a more luxurious lifestyle. (if the Victorian clothing wasn't a big enough hint) but again, I don't dislike him, he has a lot of comedic potential!

I'm gonna get MURDERD for this one, Leah- I CAN NEVER FIND HER. Her pathing and my pathing NEVER collide and I keep forgetting she goes to the beach to draw sometimes so I never go there and I go to the wiki to find where in the WORLD she is at and 99% of the time is in the cortege but I can't get to her because I don't have 2 hearts yet because I don't run into her unless I remember to look in the saloon IF shes there BUT again, I do not dislike her...I dislike her pathing and that's on me for not thinking ahead. Plus this problem goes away once I DO have 2 hearts.

Whats your favorite crop and who’s your favorite bachelorette?

Coffee! (gee what a surprise 😅) I just love it when I can get one seed, grow it, and then harvest it and multiply my coffee crops by a huge amount! It's not worth much but it's just a satisfying crop to have.

Maru- not exactly a popular pic but I had a lot of friends who were 10X smarter than me growing up so Maru just naturally reminds me a lot of my closest friends, THAT and she's easy for me to bump into in the clinic.

(I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT 💀 but I think it said-) What software do you youse and what do you recommend?

I use Krita, and couldn't recommend it more! (scroll down more to the archive and there are more details about it)

and a UGEE tablet BUT I got it as a free gift. So far I haven't had to replace it yet and has lasted a good amount of time (my old ones lasted a year until I had to replace it) so Idk if I can recommend it and it's kinda expensive. (for me anyway) I'm honestly dreading the day something happens to it and I have to get it replaced :(

It costs about $60usd right now

Question Archive! - stuff I was asked before here for you to find :D

(some of it, the rest is tagged with #ask)

Whats your chickens name (the chicken in your pfp)?

Tudee-chi or Tudee for short!

Got any advice for perfection?

This website apparently! That and the Stardew Wiki

Okay I have to ask: favorite Bachelors and Bachelorettes?

Alright! Here's a tier list from Favorate to I'm chill with them!

Do you think that the male and female farmer can co-exist as a pair of chaotic twin siblings with joint ownership of the farm?

And I don't see why not! It's more fun that way

Sorry to bother, but can i ask what you use to draw?

Not a bother at all! I love answering questions!!! I use Krita

Who is your favorite stardew Bachelor?

Harvey! and for the dumbest reasons...Harvey ended up being my favorite bachelor for 2 main reasons

Sorry to bother but do you happen to have any tips/advice on drawing bodies and heads??

I ABSOLUTELY DO!!! it's no bother at all

What you need to keep in mind is that a lot of my advice is a suggestion and what I'm comfortable with-

For the future, this will be a question archive of things I'm asked to keep it easy to find once the Mega pin post is ready!

[astronomic727]

Welcome to my art account!

I'm Astro, I'm primarily a digital artist but I also do traditional sketches now and then too! A bit about me I'm from Ireland and currently 22! I was an Instagram artist for the longest time but am no longer happy with where the site's going, so... here I am! I'm also on Youtube which is where my most ambitious projects take place lol I do play video games in my past time, more on that in the next paragraph :) I LOOOVE space stuff, which of course is the inspiration for my name and sona, which also trickles into my other interests. I am also getting into music production! So, what to expect from this account? A lot of my artwork is fan art based on the video games that I enjoy. Primarily Kirby, Terraria, Pokémon are the main 3 to expect but there may be the occasional Mario post or whatnot lol My OCs! I also have my own OCs that I also post about a lot! The main trio of characters are Via, her little sister Kayleigh, and her best friend Orion. The posts about my OCs are just slice of life kinda stuff, but I also randomly insert them into other media or memes now and then xD One of such (the most prominent) is in one of my art projects! What are these art projects? First off is Project Dream! My Kirby art project, a fan made story that takes place after the events of Kirby Star Allies, my favourite Kirby game! Each of the illustrations are primarily dedicated to each of the Dream Friends. Each installment also gets an accompanying timelapse/speedpaint video over on my Youtube, which is where most of the story is explained and visualised. There is a main antagonist of the story, and the Project has been going for almost 5 years now. It is in it's later stages, but how will the story end? Stay tuned to find out ;) The other one is Terraria Legends! Terraria Legends follows the tale of two heroes as they progress throughout the land of Terraria and facing the many bosses and events the game has to offer. These two heroes however are Via and Orion! The Terraria versions of Via and Orion are different to their original counterparts however. Terraria Legends isn't as old as Project Dream, but our heroes currently are almost at the end of Pre-Hardmode! Where else can I be found? Youtube, Ko-Fi, Cara, Terraria Forums Or alternatively, all my links can be found through my Carrd! Anything else? So, my ask box is open atm, but I'm still learning how this all works so I may close this at any point. In terms of rules, don't say/ask anything super weird/nsfw. I personally don't mind any light jokes in this vain, just keep it relatively clean lmao. Any questions about my characters and their stories are all good! In terms of Project Dream or Terraria Legends, I like seeing speculation, but please don't just ask what will happen in the next episode or stuff like that, I don't wanna just spoil things for people y'know? ^^; Oh, and fan art of my OCs or my projects is very welcome, I'd be delighted to see that so feel free to @ me for that! :D Just be sure to respect any existing relationships with the characters, like don't ship two characters who definitely should not be lol DM's aren't really open, sorry about that. Only people I'm familiar with I'm ok with DMing. It usually takes me a good while to get comfortable with new people. Main Navigation Tags (#Astro Art) (#Astro Sketches) (#Project Dream) (#Terraria Legends) (#Astro OCs) (Each post with my OCs will be tagged with their name) I'll edit this whenever I have anything to change/add, but that's about everything for now! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy your stay here! :D

[kellyaroman]

Hi everyone! And hello to all of my new followers! It’s so heartwarming knowing so many of you have liked and shared my work! Thank you! Just an FYI, I have an Instagram where I often share some behind the scenes photos/videos and in progress stuff if that interests you! Stuff that I normally don’t share here. You can follow me here or search @kellyaroman on IG! :)

[clarityroses]

Okay finally doing this cuz boredom (sorry if this sucks idk exactly how to do an intro lmao. Gonna add a meet the artist drawing along with this later):

INTRO TIME :D

Shitpost blog

Writing blog

OC blog

‼️Commision info‼️

They are open!!!

I also have a vent acc if u wanna follow but its xtreme tw. Dm for the handle ;-; block dnt report <33

- Hello I’m Clarity (clarityroses_ and claritys_art_things on instagram)

- he/any pronouns

- minor

- gender-fluid and abrosexual

- very multi fandom just like look through featured tags watch me go insane 😔😔

- I do a lot of art

- I went to vidcon 2022, 2023, and 2024‼️ it’s so silly and fun.

- I secretly rp as ro from kotlc on @hunkyhairs-backup but I’m not very active at all shhhhh

Ermm

OK WITH

✅ Using art for pfp or wallpaper or whatever (pfp has to have credit though!)

✅ drawing my ocs or aus. I’d actually love that oml-

✅ tagging me and spamming likes or reblogs

✅ spammy asks

NOT OKAY WITH

❌ Reposting (even with credit)

❌ Any like blatant hate for no reason. Like you’re free to critique and such but I don’t want a negative blog

❌ Homophobia, transphobia, ableism, racism, or any of the other weirdos and rude & angry people of the internet

❌ blank blogs. Add something my guy. I’ll most likely just block them cuz they look like bots 😃

❌ weird like. 18+ blogs. Not just if you’re over 18, I mean specifically THOSE types of blogs. The weird kinky ones or if it says “minors dni” in ur bio don’t follow meeee ew ty

(I’ll probably add more once I remember stuff lol)

Just keep this a nice positive space please 🙃

Feel free to send asks and such, I don’t bite :3

Silly comic thing beginning (old): IT’S GENDERBEND STYLE WOAH

Hazbin Hotel fic that’s currently on hiatus:

Johnnyboy oneshot thingy (Outsiders)

Oceanside is one of my oc stories, tags will be #oceanside #oceanside characters. The otehr story is #other world. You can check #the creatures of my brain, plus any generic #oc tags. I have a separate blog for ocs now.

Character list

Art tag is #clarity’s arts

Rambling tag is #clarity speaks

Asks are #clarity’s asks

Writing tag is #clarity’s ramblings

WIPs are #me when the work is progressing

…

Ahem anyways

Misc. tags are #shitpostss, #wowie a poll, #anon :3, #woahh a video, but I forget to use them a lot

Have a nice day :D

(I’ll edit this as I feel like I should)

[wylohwist]

Yo

Welcome to my corner of the internet

My name's Wyloh (Said 'Willow') and I'm the official creator of UnderWatcher

_+=-------About Me-------=+_

The name's Wyloh, with the 'Y' said like an 'I' (So "Willow" with extra steps basically).

I've been in the Undertale Fandom since around 2020, but only as of the date this post was made (January 1st 2025) have I actually been a creator within said Fandom.

In my spare time I like to play video games like Minecraft, Roblox (Creatures of Sonaria & Kaiju Universe being the main ones), Undertale (obviously), Hollow Knight, Cult of the Lamb, Portal 1 & 2, and a bunch of others

I also like to read both books/fanfic & comics, listen to all sorts of music (particularly rock), and occasionally do some extreme sports like diving, sky diving, and white water rafting as well. I've also got an interest in Psychology and how the human mind / human behaviour works, so if you've got any fun facts about that, feel free to share 'em with me

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I'm the kinda guy that doesn't give 2 shits about being "normal" and take being called a freak or weird or strange as a compliment

Honestly, you'd insult me more if you did call me normal, like "Damn, am I not doin enough?" X)

Anywho, if there's anything else you wanna know about me, I guess go ahead and check my Bio, as that's where the rest of the relevant info about me is gonna be

_+=-----About this Blog-----=+_

This is the main hub of UnderWatcher where I'll be mainly answering questions about said AU, but I'll also be posting some general life stuff if it becomes relevant

Relevant Tags

Here are each of the important tags I use in my posts to help y'all properly navigate everything

#underwatcher - Anything & Everything UnderWatcher related #pinned post - Added to any important posts, primarily used for UnderWatcher related stuff #lore - Any and all UnderWatcher lore, either in the form of character-answered asks or just shared info by me #progress update - To keep y'all up to date with how my writing progress is going #wist answers - For any & all asks that the canon creator of UnderWatcher has personally answered (This'll also apply if any other characters answer questions, but with their respective names, so like "#papyrus answers" or "#toriel answers") #spoilers - For when I'm feelin generous and wanna give you guys a sneak peak at what's to come :3 #life update - For relevant updates on my life

_+=-------Socials-------=+_

I don't promise to be consistent across all my platforms, nor do I promise to even post anything on said platforms but if you're interested in where else to find me for whatever purpose, here's the links:

Active Socials (Socials I actually post on)

AO3

Tumblr (You are here) Inactive Socials (Only exist for credit and content consuming purposes)

YouTube

Deviant Art

Instagram

Twitter (No I'm not gonna call it "X" cause Fuck Musk)

TikTok

_+=-------Community-------=+_

If you're interested in what I've created here and want more, feel free to join the Discord, where you can talk to others about the AU, theories, share fanart, fanfics, and talk with me directly

(Please note that a discord has not been made YET and will be worked on in the future if the need for one arises (though I'll probably end up creating one anyway))

_+=-------The Story of UnderWatcher-------=+_

AO3 Series Folder

Introduction (The Beginning)

UnderWatcher Part I - The Underground I

UnderWatcher is an Undertale AU whose official creation is on January 1st, 2025 (aka, the day this was all created)

Though I'm the official creator of UnderWatcher, I'm not the canon creator. That title belong to my counterpart Wist, who is always available for asks regardless of if other characters are or not

_+=-------ASK UNDERWATCHER-------=+_

Once enough characters have been introduced in the story, they'll be available for asks.

The characters that are currently available for asks are the following:

Wist (UnderWatcher's Canon Creator)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_+=------Behind the AU------=+_

The story of UnderWatcher goes as follows:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long ago, two races ruled over Gaia: HUMANS and MONSTERS.

One day, war broke out between the two races.

After a long battle, a truce was met.

Humans would rule over Gaia's Surface, while Monsters would claim her Underground.

And so, the Monsters willingly sealed themselves off from the surface with a magical barrier.

Many Years later...

MT Oíkos. 1378

Legends say that those who seek out the Monsters never return.

While Myths say that Monsters never existed.

Regardless of Legend or Legacy, one thing stands true.

History is being forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are many differences between this AU and a lot of other AUs out there, but if I explained every single one of them then I'd spoil the whole story, so here's the main points I believe are relevant to know:

Monsters were not forced Underground by humans, but chose to live underground away from them

Monsters can pass through the barrier at will, but humans cannot

Resetting is NOT a determination trait ability

This AU pulls inspiration from the following: Underfell, Dancetale, Xtale, Underverse, ATLA, Greek Mythology, Norse Mythology, Celtic Mythology, and others I currently can't remember

This AU has been through a lot long before it's publication and has gone through a total of 3 redesigns, with the most recent version being the third. This third rendition is what changed UnderWatcher from "Undertale with minor character redesigns 1 majorly changed character (take a wild guess as to which character I'm talking about)" to "An Undertale AU with a unique twist" or at least as unique as an Undertale AU can get X)

I originally intended for UnderWatcher to be a comic series, but I sadly don't have the artistic talent to draw comics for a series of them, nor the patience to learn how to draw well enough to make said comics a reality. So AO3 it is!

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Welp, that's all I got for now. I'll continue to update this as I got along, but don't expect things to be quick or consistent with me (I'm still just finding my legs here)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~