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#its 7 months older than me
ellies-enrichment · 1 year
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sorry for bringing up 3 doors down again
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thedrotter · 28 days
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redrew a few old expressions from february!!! one never notices how much their art style changes in some months till you compare side by side www
(the old ones for comparison ↓)
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#re:kinder#yuuichi mizuoka#fanart#you had no idea how bad my hand was itching to draw him i was so gon die there (joke)#more so because i replayed the game these days and wanted to check my old expression sheets from february i made based on some lines ...#usual commentary time☺️☺️☺️#top left may be obviously different and thats because i didnt actually base it off the old one in that case. i based it off his sprite#but the old one is based on that same sprite; just with context of line so...#no idea what went on these months that the way i drew his ahoge went from simple strands to little circular things JEKSNDL#im not sure how to explain it but point is i . i dont know what happened there but now my brain doesnt let me draw it any other way#top right had his line of sight changed for a very goofy detail i completely overlooked in the old one ... he is the baby of the group😭#it's very unlikely anyone's shorter than him and since everyone goes from being 1 to 4 years older than him. hes gonna end up looking up😭😭#it would be one thing if the cast was older because puberty and height and stuff but it aint the case here cuz. he's like. 7??😭#so i found it funny he was looking down in the old one then i fixed his line of sight to he looking upwards . which looks goofier on him#really adds to it. the person who killed your whoel family needs to look up to look at you in the eye😭 cuz its a little baby😭😭#the fun thing in comparing the old and new is how my approach in drawing him just. changes completely#back then i did the chibi like approach when drawing him thats it. that was the mindset#now it's “he needs to look more like a bug MAKE HIS EYES TAKE MORE SPACE IN HIS FACE he neeeddds to look like a bug ...”#worked i need to put him in a blender /JOKE JOKE JOKE LIGHTHEARTED JOKE😭😭
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trans-estinien · 6 months
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Ah I think I have discovered why so many xiv spaces are 18+
There are like 3 teens who play this game and I am one of them
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magnoliamyrrh · 2 years
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i think that whole "never felt safe growing up and most of my life" thing did real damage to my psyche lmao
#......... whole damn childhood of not feeling safe. i think... the one place i can even think of where i was truly comfortable was my aunts#house. and id see her rarely and not get to stay w her that often/long...#.... apart from that?.... just constant fucking fear and wanting to escape and be left alone#... when i got older like middle high college id feel somewhat safe at friends houses. but i always dreaded having to go home#when i lived at college was... the first time i actually lived somewhere where i felt kinda safe and at home. but my parents made sure to#remind me that it wasnt my actual home lmaoo and that they could take it away at any moment#just like how after we moved from romania i had to hear all the time. while i was stuck in a foreign country as a kid. that my room isnt my#own nothing is my own i owe them everything privacy wasnt allowed etc etc#...... after college i lived w my partner in the ghetto. like shots outside 7+ times a day sorta ghetto. i literally felt safer and more#comfortable and vibing and chill than i did at home with my parents?? lmaoo jfc i actually miss it#apart from that... probably the second time i was in the psych ward lol#and after i come back from romania its gonna be months again of having to stay alone w my stepfather whose like. weirdly sexually attracted#to me and loud and agressive and it just. triggers me so fucking much. god. i hate all this. i hate all this#twenty two fucking years of knowing little else than fucking fear and loneliness. i just. want. to feel safe.#for fucking once#so often i just wanna curl up in a borrow and never come out. thats all i want. im so tired. im so tired of this
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vessuna · 8 months
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thinking abt how yuuji is the baby out of all the jujutsu high kids.. sniffles
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gelastocoridae · 1 year
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*SIGHHHH* I should have known better than to give my finches a nest to play with, unsupervised.
So
I put my finch Parsley in my smaller cage because he was still recovering from his cat attack, needed to regain stamina n strength before going back to aviary.
And because he needed company I put his ornery brother Foxglove in there with him to return the favor from when he had sprained his leg and needed a recovery space.
And I added their auntie (adoptive) Lupine because she was getting her tail feathers plucked bloody and naked so her bullies (I still cannot figure out WHO because Parsley and a random three of his sisters also have plucked butts) had just started plucking her chest as well.
And because an odd bird out would just continue to be bullied, I added one tail-less sister, Snapdragon, because she's the smartest and least likely to get stressed by me constantly checking on Parsley and Lupine's injuries.
And I gave them a nest and hay to have a constructive activity without too much crowding, so they wouldn't get bored and their tails could grow back.
And this was fine. The kids know they're too closely related to breed and Lupine always rejected their dad and wasn't interested in the boys whatsoever. Their tails have grown back, Parsley is fully recovered, and they were so happily snuggling up in their nest at bedtime. I was planning to return them to aviary this week, maybe swap out some tail-less kids to pinpoint the bully.
IT WAS FINE.
EXCEPT SOMEONE DECIDED THEY MIGHT LAY EGGS ANYWAYS AND NOT TELL ME ABOUT IT
HOW DO I FIND OUT??
I come home after a weekend away and a full day of work, and SNAPDRAGON, my brilliant child, randomly SHRIEKS AND CHASES THE OTHERS AWAY FROM THE NEST LIKE A BAT OUTTA HELL. I grab her to see what's wrong - is she hurt or does she need time out?? NO!!
THERE ARE FIVE EGGS IN THE NEST SHE IS GUARDING. FIVE. THEY ONLY LAY ONE PER DAY. THEY HAVE ALL BEEN HIDING EGGS FROM ME FOR AT LEAST FIVE DAYS.
Ok, ok, I say. This is fine. Maybe Snap (and/or Lupine) decided the nest was too good to waste and she really wanted to Brood™ so she laid some eggs on her own. There's no way they're fertilized. They can sit on them until they're bored so they don't lay more. It'll be fine.
EXCEPT IT WONT.
SINCE THERE ARE SO MANY I DECIDE TO CANDLE THE EGGS TO BE SURE THEYRE EMPTY, AND WHAT DO I FIND OUT???
THEY ARE NOT EMPTY!! One has died early but THREE ARE STILL DEVELOPING! AND THAT'S NOT ALL FOLKS!!
NOT ONLY ARE THEY FERTILE, THEY ARE PACKED FULL!! THE FIRST COULD LITERALLY HATCH AT ANY TIME NOW!!!
I LOOK AT MY BIRDS, CAREFULLY CHOSEN. SOMEONE GOT NASTY AND ALL OF THEM HID THE EVIDENCE FOR AT LEAST 13 DAYS. IT ISN'T SNAP BECAUSE HER BROTHERS DISGUST HER. IT ISN'T PARSLEY BECAUSE HE ONLY SINGS TO GET MY ATTENTION.
SO
THE BOY WHO NEVER SHUTS UP, THE ONE WITH THE VOICE CRACK, FOXGLOVE, SHOOK HIS ASS AT LUPINE AND SHE SAID YES??? TO THE ONE BOY WHO LOOKS LIKE HIS DAD FROM WHOM SHE RUNS??? FOR FIVE EGGS?????
AND SNAP IS GETTING POSSESSIVE OVER THEM??????? WHAT DOES SHE KNOW THAT I DONT?!
Lord help me, 4 birds was fine to begin with and then they had 7 babies, and then 11 birds was enough... I can't just toss these eggs, now. What am I gonna do with 14 birds ;;
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howdoesagrapewrites · 10 months
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𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬
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Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.
Cw: fem!reader, cisgender female reader (I'm sorry mascs and nbs, I'll make something for you later) incest/targcest implied for later, platonic and romantic yanderes, yandere EVERYONE x reader, here's a list of every character that will be featured (not all of them are romantic):Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhea Royce, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Haelena Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon
Notes: I go by a very strange mix of the series and the books, I haven't seen the series in a while so the timeline will most likely be a mess. I'd like this to be a series but I've been incredibly busy. Extra: at first I thought about making reader Mysaria's daughter, but this is a self insert, so it's best that you look however you like, leaving the mother anonymous. The only physical reference I'll make will be reader's silver hair
>After Rhaenyra was declared the heir of the iron throne, Daemon, insulted, flew away with his mistress, the white worm, who he would conceive a child with, even asking for a dragon egg for the prince or princess to come
>However, Viserys demanded him to go back to his home and wife, he sent Mysaria off to lys, where the stress of a storm in the trip back made her lose the baby
>Daemon never fully forgave his brother, and this left him less than eager to have another child anytime soon
>So imagine his surprise, when 7 years later, there's a rumour spreading in flea bottom like wildfire, about a girl carrying Daemon's bastard
>Many women had claimed to carry a royal child before, thinking this could give them any sort of prize, so Daemon didn't think much of it at first, but when he heard her name, he recognized her as one of his previous "favorites" who disappeared without a trace months ago
>She was said to have taken residence in Essos, and Daemon went on dragonback to find her. She was from the free cities, five years older than Daemon, and a heart as cold as a northern winter, or so they said. She was not expecting Daemon, running away to have the child in peace
>"They said I was too far along when I found out, moon tea would've only harmed me. Besides, it was lucrative in its own way" said the woman. Daemon did little to suppress the disgust on his face when thinking about her being defiled by other men while carrying his dragonseed babe
>She wanted no part in the baby's life, and Daemon, in his particular fashion, informed her he'd take the youngling as soon as it's out of her, may even pay her a few coins to make sure she won't do much as think about keeping it
>A few months passed, and he returned to king's landing with a babe in arms. Demanding an egg in honor of the birth of princess Y/N Targaryen
>This egg would later hatch into the dragon Dagahrion, the princess' bound dragon
>The court was a hot mess, according to Otto, he wouldn't be surprised if the young creature lost its left ear because of all the gossip and ill-speaking of her, just like her father. This was a scandal, considering he was still married to Rhea Royce, who he gravely dishonored time and time again, Daemon was always shameless, but this was crossing a limit, even for him, to call his bastard a princess while refusing to lay with his own rightful wife, disgraceful
>Daemon tried to use you as yet another attempt to get his brother to annul his marriage to "the bronze bitch", but even when he failed, he did everything in his power to legitimize his daughter
>Despite everyone on the council telling Viserys how foolish it'd be to do it, making enemies out of the Royce house, further insulting Rhea, and putting a whoreborn on the line of succession (no matter how far from the throne), all it took was a little yawn and the bright twinkle of your eyes to make him melt, he is fully committed to his role of uncle, even as a doting grandfather, considering his father passed long before her birth
>Viserys sent Daemon back to the Vale, saying he should do his best to give lady Rhea an heir, to make up for the slip and avoid causing the Targaryen house any more trouble. Viserys, for totally not selfish reasons wanted to keep the princess in KL, saying Rhea should not be made to raise his bastard
>Daemon said he'd rather be exiled again than to leave his daughter in Hightower hands to go try to fuck his wife. Viserys was greatly offended by the implication that the Hightowers truly ruled and schemed while he reigned
>To his outmost displeasure, he finally had to let his niece go to the Vale with her father
>Rhea loved you as soon as she set eyes on you, completely separating you from your father's actions, and seeing you as a pure angel in this horrible situation
>But it was so difficult with Daemon around, she just wanted to whisk you away and love you, she'd pray to the mother to be able to breastfeed you, crying when she heard you wail in frustration of your hunger, since it took several wet nurses to get you to drink milk
>But Daemon was always around to remind her you were not hers, that he considered her lowly, not worthy of you. He'd correct you when you learning to speak, and dared to refer to her as "mama"
>It was said the ground of the vale would shake upon them yelling when fighting over you
>But this joy to Rhea was short lived, as Daemon sent you to KL when he had to fight in the war of the stepstones, saying the "nest of vipers" was more deserving of you than she was. When you were three, your step mother had an accident while hawking, many said Daemon orderded for her to be poisoned when she was bed bound, others said the distress of your parting made her lose skill
>It was Viserys greatest pleasure when you were left at his care, his adorable baby niece was now an infant, and somehow you were even more charming, being able to speak, sing and walk
>To no one's surprise, Viserys' reaction was not generalized, with many not being keen on having a bastard running around the castle playing with the princes, by that point, Aegon was 8, Haelena was 7, Aemond was 5, and Daeron was 1, and almost all of them could see people treated you differently
>Rhaenyra was welcoming, baby Lucerys had just been born, and she was delighted to have a girl to spoil, it only helped that Jacaerys loved you as well, and would often fight his uncles for the chance to be with you
>Alicent in particular was not pleased with your presence, thinking you were an uncomfortable conversation to have with her children, especially resentful of the fact her youngest son would be attached at the hip with you
>To Otto, you were an annoyance, a living proof of Daemon's pure disregard for the norms, however, he could rest at night knowing you were ninth in the line of succession, and a girl, who would someday marry a son of a minor house and be too busy bearing children to present a claim to the iron throne
>Even though the Hightowers were tougher than the king, they did eventually succumb to your spell, and became just as enamoured with you as everyone else, in their minds, you were almost a product of spontaneous generation, completely ignoring your shameful father and prostitute mother
>Your arrival also caused the birth of Lucerys (who was again, born with a striking resemblance of Harwin Strong, just like his older brother) to be less gossiped about, after all, your case was much more interesting
>Some people in court starting referring to you as "The princess of flea bottom", this title costed quite a few tongues around the castle, ordered by Viserys, happily approved by Otto
>The Hightower hand was careful not to show too much affection to you, as it was improper and he knew how zealous was Viserys when it came to you
>Aegon was "already too old to be playing" in his words, and kept his distance from you, you reminded him to much of his sticky handed little brothers
>But as if you knew, you chased him around and praised him for his knightly demeanor (in your eyes) and how he's just like the heroes in Viserys' stories. It was not a long time before Aegon now appointed himself as your guard, watching like a hawk over his brothers and nephews when he thought they were being too rough on you
>Haelena loves you from the start, sees you as a little doll, she loves showing you her bugs, you're the only one who listens to her attentively
>Jacaerys and Daeron are only a year old, but always search for you, you think they're cute, something that spikes jealousy on Aemond, he wants you to think of him as someone worthy of admiration, like you see his older brother, he'd even accept being cute in your eyes, but he has none of those traits to appeal to you. You love him and love playing with him nonetheless, but he thinks he needs something else to win your favor
>The Velaryons dote on you too, with Laenor married to Rhaenyra and once your father marries Laena that same year, they are maybe too eager to become part of your family, and regard you as theirs
>Especially Laena, who Daemon allows (unlike with Rhea) to pamper and care for you, but still corrects you when it comes to remembering your origins, Laena may love you, but she's not your mother
>Maybe Daemon does this as a way to imagine you're only his, he doesn't care for the woman who abandoned such a precious treasure, she has been wiped away from your life and memory, you're only familiar with your father, you only belong to him
>You have his silver hair, you have his name, no matter who your mother was, you are his true valyrian heir, his dragonseed
>Unfortunately, Daemon is not the only one whose eyes light up when thinking of owning you
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itoshi-s · 2 years
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Bllk boys ranking though NNN also i lost bc of ur fics
PLSSSS nonnie im so sorry i made u lose !!! 😭 m happy u enjoyed it so much tho ajfhalkf now let me brainrot over how needy the bllk boys would be during the month of november !
ʜᴏᴡ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ɴɴɴ !
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ft: rin, sae, bachira, isagi, ryusei, reo, nagi, aiku, chigiri, kunigami, kaiser, & barou !
cw: nsfw (minors -17 dni!), characters are 18+, fem reader, mentions of rough sex, the boys being switchy, edging, mutual masturbation, sex toys, cannabis !
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12. rin - doesn't participate ! ─── yep :( as a rinnie stan myself i know it's disappointing LMAO but he just knows it's unhealthy 😭 and he takes care of himself and his body so much, there's no way. cannot be bothered to take part in such challenges anyway,, they were childish to him at 16 yet alone when he's older sfkfal also is so busy, he'd be a fool to let go of any chance to touch you !!
11. bachira - a day ! ─── no. 1 needy baby ! isn't completely against the idea, actually even tells you he might try it out once you mention it - but he truly forgets all about it as soon as he comes come several hours later .. and sees you looking soooo good. pounces on you within seconds <3 also has an impressive refractory period & stamina too ! can keep going for hours on end and stuff u so full.... it just doesn't end ! he cums for the first time so quick and loses the challenge embarrassingly early but he makes it up to you so well <3
more under the cut !
10. barou - three days ! ─── agrees to your pretty pleading eyes - you want the both of you to try it out so that once the month ends, all hell can break loose ! you know shoei so well, how rough he is on the daily - the thought of him going even further, all desperate and frustrated, makes you giddier than ever. it's of course such a dumb idea to him, but since you're asking him so nicely, he might as well agree..... yeah it only lasts the few days bc he's away on a game and just isn't there to see you and touch you :/ as soon as he's through the front door you can nearly scent the pheromones on him. fucks u into the mattress so hard you're scared of how rough he could be after a whole month !
9. nagi - five days ! ─── he's all about the slow and lazy loving and rarely ever initiates something himself ((you're more than happy to take control though bc just think...... blowing him under the desk while he's gaming???? yeah think bout it)) so you're not at all surprised when he mumbles something about taking part in a challenge the guys talked abt in the group chat . nagi can be a menace with how lazy he is sometimes so you have your toys in handy anyway akfjhsa BUT you honestly would've thought he could last longer ! he might not show his desperation all that often or openly but he definitely is needy <3 ruts into you in your sleep not even a week in. as you wake him and try to scold him playfully , he just pulls you closer with a groan . "'s a pain already," he huffs, "help me out?"
8. isagi - a week and a half ! ─── takes it as a joke at first but figures that it might be fun, actually, and tries it out in the end . he's got very good self control too so is curious how well it'll work when it comes to you and his needs !! it's going pretty smoothly considering how tight his practice schedule is before his next match, BUT it all goes down the drain after said game .. comes back absolutely pumped and high on the goals he scored , on the way he absolutely devoured the other team and controlled the whole field - there's no other way to unwind than to take it out on u <3 it's the only way he knows ! is so loud once he finally takes u & makes u praise him so much ! loves to hear he's your best boy n how good he is to u <3 praise kink yoichi goes brr (yes i am still thinking about the thirst moshi ((@/saetoshis)) did !! its canon i confirm)
7. kunigami - two weeks ! ─── he wasn't rly going to take part when he first read about it in the gc but once he mentions it to you and it turns out you're actually excited abt the thought .. he just might take it up akfhf doesn't actually find it all that difficult and only ever realizes that actually you might be the one taking the hit when you openly start begging for him :( comes home to find u on the bed, teary eyed and overstimulated bc it's just been so long , and masturbation isn't all that exciting anymore ever since u have him . please ren, just drop it already. finds the look on ur face so amusing , you're so miffed as if it wasn't your idea in the first place ! quickly wipes the frown off your pretty features and replaces it with crossed eyes and lolled out tongue tho <3
6. reo - two and a half weeks ! ─── you make him do it <3 and the thought is far too thrilling for him to refuse. also...... he's a switch leaning sub anyway so :( does he even have any word in it? no not really. one look from u is all it takes to make him melt ! it drives you insane to see how he just gives a slight whine or a sigh in the mornings, hard cock straining against his boxers but he's such a good boy - of course he listens and doesn't touch himself <3 just gets up and goes on with his day , knowing better. has this haze over his mind and it shows by his glossy eyes or warm hands that start to roam around your body more frequently . you only ever let him drop it when he's nearly in tears ,, it just hurts !!!!! he cannot keep focus on practice or workouts anymore :( the ache in his tummy and boxers too overwhelming. wraps his arms around you from behind as you cook dinner for u two - sturdy chest pressing all against you, hands grabbing at your waist and there's a shaky breath by your ear. please, please i can't take this anymore. you're not that cruel, and end up praising him for being such a good boy for u for the past weeks <3
4. sae - three weeks ! ─── gets annoyed with the way you keep teasing him, even when he comes home from the longest day of practice ever, and thinks that it might actually be the perfect time to teach you a lesson ! tbh sae strikes me as a dom BUT with solid switch tendencies so !! he actually starts to regret his decision like a week and a half in lol. doesn't let it show at all though and keeps his cool,, knowing that it's exactly how to rile you up <3 giving you such humdrum looks it makes you week in the knees. it's until he sees you come out of the shower, a pretty little vibe in hand, cheeks flushed and eyes lidded when he realizes he might not have the upper hand anymore :( knows that he can keep control of his needs if he has to, but it just gets so fucking annoying, even more so when he knows he's the one that came up with it in the first place. is beyond thankful when u unexpectedly finally BEG HIM to just feel him,, and takes you right here in the moment. puts u in a mating press and fucks you silly only to flip you over and make you ride him as the prettiest little sound start to slip out. ngh- yeah, make m'cum, pretty girl. can't think straight no more. ( > ///////////// < ) cums embarrassingly fast like this as well ...... like just a minute or two of you riding him and grabbing at his shoulders or biceps and he's whining so loud. pretty baby is so flustered tho !!!
4. chigiri - three weeks ! ─── PLEASE he's such a tease ! takes up on the challenge when he hears the boys mention it and is kind enough to give you a heads up . is definitelyyyy one of the biggest menaces of them all tho with the way he riles u up so much. knows that the way he brings his hair up into a loose ponytail instantly makes u think of how he does it whenever he's about to eat you out - so he does it right in front of ur eyes, hairtie in his teeth and giving you a sly look ! makes plans with you so that you just have to go to practice with him first,, otherwise you won't make it on time - because he knows how much it turns you on to see him in the zone <3 thinks that he has it all in control until you crawl between his spread legs and give him the prettiest begging eyes, hands already palming at the sturdy muscle of his thighs, threatening to move higher - right where he now feels the dull ache and strain against his shorts. this is unfair, hyo. haven't i been good to you? isn't all that much of a hard dom,, but definitely makes you feel it how it wasn't worth spurring him on :((
3. aiku - three and a half weeks ! ─── same thing that happened with barou,, but this man has much better self control ! it gets him INSANELY hard and fucking insane to think of how you'll be dripping by the very end of this month , pleading him to finally fill you up. doesn't let you touch yourself either, though </3 so that's what it makes it even more fucked up ! he's the one to convince you to it - has to give a little push bc you're just so needy, the thought alone is enough to make your head spin - but knows that you're actually a lil excited yourself when he sees the glint in your eyes ! doesn't try to tease you all that much but pleaseeeeee have u seen this man .. he doesn't even need to try and he gets you SOAKING ! might just bust a nut himself everytime he thinks of how good it'll feel to finally have you once the month's finished. all of his plans go to waste when you end up watching a movie and smoking a blunt together tho ...... it's ridiculous how you're on top of him within SECONDS after the few first hits kjafhaskfh the weed makes you hazy too you end up going for hourssss on end :( in the morning you're smacking him in the head for even giving u the idea to smoke when you both know how horny u two get afterwards ,, maybe it was his unconscious horny self making the decision tho afhakhsaf
1. ryusei - the whole month ! ─── PLSSSS he's so deranged afafalasfa he LOVES edging the both of u. makes sure u know what's about to come days before november even starts lol and makes good use of it,, you don't even have the energy to think about fucking for the first few days of nov when he's railed u so good minutes before midnight hit 😭 is such a tease during the whole month ! would straight up edge you and bring you right up to your high, only to pull away at the very last second and leave you crying so pretty :( is mean about it, but knows it'll be worth it in the end ! looooves mutual masturbation - thinks that he just might fail when he sees u spread out in front of him, panting and moaning so sweetly, BUT ofc he doesn't let neither of you come . scares you with the way he grabs you so rough and fucks you on the literal floor as soon as the date changes to december :0 pls he's so funny i can see him checking the clock both before it starts & ends gives you the absolute best fuck you've ever had your whole life ,, you need to call in sick the next day bc your cervix is so bruised and gives you cramps :(
1. kaiser - the whole month ! ─── does it just to prove a point. you're a brat to him anyway,, so he's sure you can take matters into your own hands for just a month! (it's not like he absolutely adores the iittle attitude of yours and is the one that always spurs you on even further! definitely not ! </3) considering the world cup is coming soon, he's away most of the days anyways, but usually he'd take care of you as soon as he comes back .. this time he only gives you a good night kiss and pulls you close :( no action whatsoever ! as if you didn't exist to him in any sexual form. also doesn't let you touch him even once either - he despises any distractions after all! it makes you want to cry with desperation cause your own touch just isn't enough - it's a whole other experience to have him manhandling u around and making u do the work to please him ! he takes you to the world cup with him as well,, since he doesn't want u to be lonely ((and actually wants u there with him </3)) so you're extremely fucked . seeing him absolutely trashed and exhausted after a match ?? watching from the first row stands as he absolutely demolishes the field ?? he couldn't get any hotter than he is during the games and u know it :( you end up nearly crying when he finally allows you to touch him , thank him thru the tears and he makes you come in like mere minutes :( won't ever admit that this is the hardest he's ever been lmaoo
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© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.
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opencommunion · 8 months
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since zionists want to act obtuse about why we're criticizing a superbowl ad, here's an explanation from before the ad even aired. it was openly designed to act as pro-genocide propaganda. fighting antisemitism is a worthy goal but that's not what's happening here:
"The New England Patriots’ 81-year-old owner, Robert Kraft, writes seven-digit checks to the right-wing Israeli lobbying machine AIPAC, but his personal, political, and financial ties to Israel run deeper than the occasional donation. The multibillionaire married his late wife, Myra, in Israel in 1963 when Kraft, then 22, was older than the nation itself. Together they set up numerous business, athletic, and charitable ties to Israel, a record of which is proudly proclaimed on the Kraft company website. In particular, the Kraft Group boasts of its 'Touchdown in Israel' program, where NFL players are given free, highly organized vacations to see 'the holy land' and come back to spread the word about 'the only democracy in the Middle East.' (Not every NFL player has chosen to take part.) Kraft also attends fundraisers for the Israel Defense Forces, currently—and in open view of the world—committing war crimes in Gaza."
Now, as Israel wages war against the civilians of Gaza—more than 25,000 Palestinian have been killed with at least 10,000 of them children—Kraft is again flexing his financial and political muscles in order to defend the indefensible. His Foundation to Combat Antisemitism (FCAS) will be spending an estimated $7 million to buy a Super Bowl ad titled 'Stop Jewish Hate' that will be seen by well over 100 million people. Under Kraft’s direction, the ad’s goal is to create a propaganda campaign to counter the reports and images from Gaza that young people are consuming on social media. 
... The content of the Super Bowl ad is not yet known, but FCAS has afforded Kraft the opportunity to make the rounds on cable news saying things like, 'It’s horrible to me that a group like Hamas can be respected and people in the United States of America can be carrying flags or supporting them.'
This is Kraft enacting the mission of FCAS: fostering disinformation. He is far from subtle: A Palestinian flag becomes a 'Hamas flag,' and people like the hundreds of thousands who took to the streets of Washington, D.C., last month to call for a cease-fire and end the violence are expressions of the 'rise in antisemitism.' Without a sense of irony or the horrors happening on the ground in Gaza, Kraft says he is giving $100 million of his own money to FCAS, because 'hate leads to violence.'
Let’s be clear: What Kraft is doing politically and what he will be using the Super Bowl as a platform to do is dangerous. He appears to think any criticism of Israel is inherently antisemitic. For Kraft, it is Jews like myself, rabbis, and Holocaust survivors calling for a cease-fire and a Free Palestine that are part of the problem. Kraft seems to think that opposition to Israel, the IDF, and the AIPAC agenda is antisemitism.
... Right-wing Christian nationalists, with their belief in a Jewish state existing alongside their conviction that Jews are going to Hell, are welcome in Netanyahu’s Israel and Kraft’s coalition. Left-wing anti-Zionist Jews are not. The greatest foghorn of this evangelical right-wing 'love Israel, hate Jews' perspective is, of course, Donald Trump. Kraft, while speaking of being troubled by events like the Charlottesville Nazi march and the right-wing massacre at the Tree of Life synagogue, counts Donald Trump as a close friend and even donated $1 million to his presidential inauguration.
No one who provides cover for the most powerful, public antisemite in the history of US politics should ever be taken seriously on how to best fight antisemitism. No one who funds AIPAC and the IDF and opposes a cease-fire amid the carnage should be allowed a commercial platform at the Super Bowl. But given that the big game is always an orgy of militarism, blind patriotism, and big budget commercials that lie through their teeth, perhaps that ad could not be more appropriate. We can do better than Kraft’s perspective on how to fight antisemitism. Morally, we don’t have a choice."
610 notes · View notes
afeelgoodblog · 9 months
Text
The Best News of Last Week - January 15, 2024
🎊 - As we embark on another journey around the sun, I am thrilled to bring you the first newsletter of the year, packed with inspiring, informative, and sometimes downright amusing stories.
1. Marijuana meets criteria for reclassification as lower-risk drug
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Marijuana has a lower potential for abuse than other drugs that are subjected to the same restrictions, with scientific support for its use as a medical treatment, researchers from the US Food and Drug Administration say in documents supporting its reclassification as a Schedule III substance.
2. South Korea passes law banning dog meat trade
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The slaughter and sale of dogs for their meat is to become illegal in South Korea after MPs backed a new law. The legislation, set to come into force by 2027, aims to end the centuries-old practice of humans eating dog meat.
3. After 20 years in a tiny cage, these 'broken bears' are finally feeling the grass beneath their paws
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These bears, termed "broken bears" due to physical and psychological trauma from years of abuse, are treated at the Tam Dao rescue center with individually tailored diets, physiotherapy, and medical care. The bear bile trade, which involves extracting bile for traditional Asian medicine, has been illegal in Vietnam since 2005, but a black market still exists.
4. France just got its first openly gay prime minister.
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Gabriel Attal is France’s youngest-ever prime minister at age 34 and the first who is openly gay.
5. Australian ‘builders without borders’ repairing war-torn homes and schools in Ukraine
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Manfred Hin, a 66-year-old builder from Townsville, Australia, spent most of 2023 volunteering in Ukraine to rebuild homes and schools damaged by Russian attacks. Having contributed to over 50 house and a dozen school renovations, he worked with Ukrainian charity Brave to Rebuild, mentoring young volunteers and sourcing three tonnes of donated tools.
Inspired by Hin's story, Tasmanian carpenter Hamish Stirling also joined the efforts, learning Ukrainian, traveling to Europe, and volunteering for three months to help rebuild homes.
6. The age-standardized death rate from cancer has declined by 15% since 1990
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The age-standardized death rate from cancer declined by 15%
Cancer kills mostly older people – as the death rate by age shows, of those who are 70 years and older, 1% die from cancer every year. For people who are younger than 50, the cancer death rate is more than 40-times lower (more detail here).
7. Germany Reached 55% Renewable Energy in 2023
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In 2023, 55 percent of Germany’s power came from renewables — an increase of 6.6 percent, according to energy regulator Bundesnetzagentur, reported Reuters. Europe’s biggest national economy has a goal of 80 percent green energy by 2030.
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That's it for this week :)
This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:
Buy me a coffee ❤️
Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.
502 notes · View notes
alonetimelover · 11 months
Note
Could I request a dadrry instagram blurb?? That other one was amazing!!! Doesn’t have to follow on from the last one❤️
pairing: Harry Styles x famous!reader
summary: A little instagram blurb with dadrry, a new pleasing drop, and babies' drawings.
masterlist taglist
famous!reader 1 2
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pleasing
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liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram, annetwist, harryupdates and 1 028 302 others
pleasing Fancy Friends are here and presented to you by our littlest ambassadors - Andy and Franny.
Behold and wait for the posts about all 8(!) new colours straight from our ambassadors' painting room, made specially for this occasion.
Find your pleasing.
view all 89 302 comments
harrystyles All smiles ♥️
yourinstagram My smiley baby!!!! 🥹
harryupdates whhhhaaaaaatt??? ambassadors???
ynupdates some cute babies
hArrysbtch oh my gooood
harrysmoustache i waited months and months for a drop that would cave me... I'm so buying all of the colours
user49 babies for ads?
user84 im conflicted now
——————————————————————————————
yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles and 7 202 403 others
yourinstagram rocking that farmer fit
view all 99 302 comments
harrystyles My two favourite girls
⤷ yourinstagram which ones exactly?
⤷ harrystyles No answer will be good
harryupdates weren't they just born?
⤷ yourinstagram that's how it feels! and now she walks
hArrysbtch i hate kids but i love all the clones from yn and harry
⤷ yourinstagram you make us look like a factory or smth
⤷ harrystyles or mad scientists
⤷ hArrysbtch im gonna take a social media break, you're right
——————————————————————————————
harryupdates
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liked by hArrysbtch, ynupdates and 10 303 others
harryupdates HARRY and his older daughter at the Pleasing facility today in London!
view all 920 comments
hArrysbtch CEO!harry having a premiere in real life???
⤷ harrysmoustache weren't you supposed to take a social media break?
⤷ hArrysbtch shhhh
ynupdates ceo and ambassador are having a meeting
stylesbabie yeah. I'll be the one to start talking about his back, won't I?
⤷ harrysfan92 i mean, its right there
ynsmybestie taking care of business
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pleasing
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liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram and 2 002 202 others
pleasing Andy and Franny present you first three drawings that inspired Fancy Friends collection. Pieces are called respectfully: 'Mummy and Daddy', 'Daddy('s) house' and 'You and me'.
'Just, just tell them that they, they all can paint nails. It's funzy!' said Franny while incorporating her work.
Find Your Pleasing.
view all 83 302 comments
harrystyles yourinstagram I love your hand
⤷ yourinstagram it's called perspective
yourinstagram My two artists!!!
annetwist ❤️
hArrysbtch MoMA is waiting for them
harryupdates This. Is. Art.
ynupdates well hello you
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harrystyles
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liked by yourinstagram and 10 302 202 others
harrystyles 'Daddy I did you on paper.'
view all 103 302 comments
yourinstagram 1:1 perfect drawing with full details
⤷ harrystyles Perfect.
hArrysbtch that's the same picture!
ynsmybestie these babies are spending days and night at that painting room
⤷ yourinstagram I wish. It was a 5 minute drawing cause 'i love daddy and kiwi'
⤷ ynsmybestie ohhhhhhh
ynsmymama melting
harrysfan82 this pleasing promotion is going HARD
⤷ harrysmoustache everything is sold out
⤷ hArrysbtch those babies are making more money than i do, man. that's unfair...
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yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 4 302 202 others
yourinstagram here's to the best father i know
(yes, i was terrified for the joints to stay in place. yes, babies found this as the best play in the world and repeated ten times. yes, his back looks gooood.)
view all 89 302 comments
harrystyles That's a lot coming from the greatest mother in the World.
⤷ yourinstagram your mum is right there
⤷ harrystyles Obviously, you're sharing the No. 1
⤷ yourinstagram ObViOuSLy
hArrysbtch 'yes, his back looks gooood' girl, you don't need to shout it to our faces
⤷ yourinstagram HIS BACK LOOKS GOOD
⤷ ynsmybestie i love her
harrysmoustache still not used to the fact that he is a dad
harrysfan82 I've never asked: do your kids know you're the Disney Princess?
⤷ yourinstagram they watched Tangled and didn't notice even after my live performance
674 notes · View notes
Text
Rigor Mortis (part 8)
College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader
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(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,
Part 7, Part 9
summary: You visit your ex. Miguel tags along.
warnings: mentions and description of depression. heavy angst, depictions of a toxic relationship. some suggestive language.
a/n: me when idk shit abt the american school system:
Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3
Join my taglists here
wc: 5.8k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you had forgotten; they were good.
Blank walls. Quiet corridors. The buzz of monitors and dull chatter sandwiched between blue vinyl and exit signs. You're not usually one to wander during your breaks; but you're going crazy looking at the same four walls. 
That hair net itches and the strap of a blue mask digs into skin as you make your way to a little courtyard. You sit out on a paltry bench overlooking concrete. The spindly remnants of a tree provides little cover from harsh elements. Wind whips through its branches, whistling and cool, as you rip off the mask and crumple it up in your pocket. A heavy sigh, and you feel some semblance of peace. Some quiet, before the morning comes. Before a rush of orders and shunting plastic trays up and down the wards. 
You screw your eyes shut to still the pounding at your temples. God. You're grateful for the job, really. And all things considered, it's not particularly taxing: coffee orders until the little cafe closes, meal prep for the morning rush, and sometimes you'd volunteer to take orders to bed bound patients. A whole lot of reheating and chopping and pressing buttons on the little machines. You don't quite get it, of course, but your lone coworker picks up the slack well enough. 
The older woman doesn't do much for company, anyways. Riveting conversation comes in the form of grunts and sharp elbows when you get in the way or round the corner of the kitchen. It has you counting down the seconds until your shift ends. 
And so you are grateful, well and truly. Jamie's not so sappy, anymore; doesn't partake in 'I love you's or grand gestures; but he is dependable. Safe. Willing to stick his neck out for you, at least. He'd gotten you a job at the hospital he has his placement at; with decent pay, and it slots in well with your other ones. He's taking you seriously – taking the news better than your parents. After telling him you wanted to go back to school, you're not met with thinly veiled disbelief, or lips pressed together with pity. He'd nodded, rather simply. Didn't make a fuss. No deep sighs, or heavy frowns. Okay , he had said. How can I help? 
It was the simplicity of his reaction that had bowled you over, almost bringing you to tears. To have someone believe in you, for once – wholeheartedly and without an onslaught of questions – felt like a deep breath of air after almost drowning. It felt like love ; and after desperate breaths, gasping and gulping and clawing at something to hold on to, you think you've found dry land. Something solid, something stable; a rough palm to pull you out of swirling depths. Because, unlike your family, and unlike half-hearted friends: Jamie was there. 
After heading back in to catch the morning rush, you're wiping down surfaces and sorting plastic trays onto a cart. Rote, repetitive, boring; you've settled into a routine that feels familiar. A couple more months, you reckon, and you'll be able to cover the costs for a second go at undergrad. You can shed the skin that seems to follow you at every family gathering, and the job interviews in between. Dropout – and when your Mom says it, it feels like a vile curse. Jamie calls it spiteful, and you opt for the democratic alternative; she's being dramatic - rather than cruel, rather than hurtful, rather than crass. You've heard enough, from all sorts: ‘too much pressure’, and ‘didn't think she had it in her, anyways’, are common phrases whispered in the background of phone calls home. 
Your chest aches with the weight of it – the kind of ache that seeps into skin, and lines a casket. Grief; mourning a person you could've been, and a person you never would be. For a while, it left you paralysed by the what ifs and the maybes; rotting in a quiet corner. Sinking into sofa cushions or caked onto the bed sheets like the mystery mould bloomed onto the plates in your room. But Jamie was there, more than anyone else. 
You'll wait for him in the corridor near the back of the service elevator, like you always do after a shift. You finish when he starts, early in the morning and rubbing away sleep from his eyes for ward rounds. You'll give him a kiss, and he'll give you a soft little smile to send you on your way. It almost makes the whole thing worth it. Almost. 
You give and you give and you give. Your boyfriend isn't quite the same; doesn't pour into you the way you'd like him to. But it works. It works because it has to; a thousand miles away from anything resembling home. You can't ask for more – the right words die in your throat. 
~~~
You've spent the past couple of hours in the library. Procrastinating for at least half of it, but you've managed to draft out a couple of essays and more or less reorganise your life. It's something you've been dreading for the past week or so; letting yourself get swept up in the monsoon that is your roommate. Miguel – sarcastic, saccharine-sweet Miguel – and his stupidly pretty lips, his pretty hands, and the pretty way he scrunches up his face like he's smelt something rotten. 
You're staring at a computer with a slew of books spread out on the adjacent desk. Your half-finished report seems to jumble together on the screen; a tangle of citations and filler words and shitty diagrams. It's not quite clicking , and it's making you want to tear out chunks of your hair in search of relief. A tale as old as time, one you can merely wallow in and fold yourself between its pages. Struggling at school; and this time it's a stats module you thought would be an easy couple of credits, that you definitely can’t afford to fail if you want to graduate early. 
You’ve picked a quiet spot on the third floor; a computer bay tucked into the corner. It overlooks a little window, cramped and claustrophobic and mystery mould in the corners of its grout. You've resorted to scanning the cracks with sharp eyes, light fingers on your neck to trace the leftovers of the morning. You can see it in the slightly mirrored surface of cloudy glass; you look like shit, you feel like shit, but you can still feel him. Lips on your neck, sucking soft hickies into the skin; and you can't help but like the way it looks on you. It's the same under your jeans, blooming like mauve and purple heather on a sprawling field.
You cross your legs, wincing at the dull ache that spreads. Sore, in that way that feels good; sending flashes of a morning with Miguel. Fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and the heat of him – cut and lean-lined – on top of you; it's impossible to ignore. Condensation drips from the panes, pooling in its corner and you swipe a finger in it, lazily. Again, you're reminded of him, for the thousandth time in the past hour: shaking legs, fisting his cock, spraying fat globs of his cum onto your face and chest. 
With another glimpse of your reflection, you sigh. Deep and heavy, with the weight of half a decade of frustration, sexual or otherwise. You've never felt this good or had your needs satiated so wholly, so exorbitantly. It feels odd. You don't know where to put your hands, how to place your feet on the floor. Do you shout, do you scream? How do you tell all the poor bystanders that scatter the third floor: I'm sleeping with Miguel O'Hara! A walking red flag with cheekbones that could cut glass! He wants me, and I want–
Your phone rings. The noise catches you off guard, and has you stumbling to press accept. 
"Hey," Miguel's voice sounds tinny in the speakers, and so you press it to your ears. 
"Y-Yeah?" You steel yourself, batting away daydreams of your legs wrapped around his middle – too horny for your own good, clearly. 
"I'm outside, chula. " He stops talking. The quiet ticking of an indicator becomes the only sign of life, before he says, "In that parking bay by the–" 
"I know, I know. Give me 5 minutes." You rush to pack up, clicking off the monitor and haphazardly shoving your notes into your bag. Not everything fits, and you give up trying to cram that textbook in. 
A beat passes before you realise he's still on the phone. Quiet, but still there. 
"…I brought food, by the way." 
You only just manage to catch it, slotting the phone between your ear and shoulder. That makes you perk up. 
" Seriously? " You give him a small laugh. You think you can hear him smile through the phone. "Thank fucking God, I'm starving. But you weren't rushing, or anything, right? I mean, it's so soon after your session with… Sally, or–" 
You're bounding down two steps at a time, so eager to see him – to get food , actually – that you're careless going down the stairs.
"Sarah . " He breathes, and you make your way downstairs. 
It stops you in your tracks, for some reason. 
"Okay. Sarah ." You say it with finality, voice tight. "What did you end up doing anyways? At her place, you said?" 
"Pressure differentials. Modelling viscosity. It's not very interesting." He hums, shifting in his seat. "What about you? Did you get something done?" 
You take a beat too long to respond, and it comes out half-baked. 
"Loads, Mig."
He snorts. " Sure. "
" Fuck you. " You say it under your breath, ducking past the entrance, and into a side road.
And there Miguel is, car heaped onto part of the sidewalk. He's leaning back, lazy arm sticking out the car window, showing off muscle and pretty tan skin. It's getting cold, but he's cracked the car door ajar; donned in a well-fitting t-shirt and slack trousers. 
You're trying not to drool; and he makes it a little easier by flashing a shit-eating grin. 
Childishly, you stick your tongue out; wrenching the door open and slumping into the passenger side. You tuck your things by your feet, and it lands on the floor with a thump. 
"You can put your stuff in the back.. . " Miguel frowns.
" Can't. We need the space, remember?" 
To pick up the rest of your things left in your ex's apartment. You hope he can parse out the rest of that from a raised eyebrow. 
He sighs, tossing a brown bag of takeout onto your lap. He starts the car. "...I didn't think we were still doing that, to be honest."
He seems disappointed, eyes flitting this way and that as he reverses and pulls out. You must've hit your head at some point, because you're in heat – pressing sore legs together at the way he does it. One arm on the back of your headrest, sharp jaw jutting out as he looks back, and bottom lip hooked under his teeth; he's just concentrating, trying not to hit one of the cat-sized rodents that roam the streets this late at night, and he's still hot . 
"You promised ."
"I had my face between your thighs. Would've said anything if it meant I could have more."
You draw your lips in faux disgust – your heart's not in it, but it's enough to make him chuckle. 
"Fuck you."
He doesn't miss a beat, deadpanning, "...you'd like that."
Lips pursed, you ignore the way it twists your stomach into knots. Steadfast, you stare out at the window, watching the yellow lights of a bustling city pass you by. 
Miguel takes a different turning, one that'll take you across the city and away from your place. To Jamie's, most likely. You soften, taking a moment to look across at him. 
His eyes flit over, intense and almost a deep red in the neon and lights. It's barely a couple of seconds, but he knows, just like that. 
"Are you nervous?" He tests the waters, voice steady and non-committal. It's not an accusation; even though everything feels like one, lately. Not from him, though. Never from him. 
" No ." Your tone is betraying, and you both know it. He seems to pretend not to hear that tremor in your voice. 
"You'll be okay, sweetheart." He says it soft and low, not quite looking at you. 
"It's just… it's the first time I'm going to see him after–" Your voice crackles. "After everything."
"You'll be okay," He starts. It doesn't feel like an empty platitude when he says it: it feels genuine and full-bodied and sonorous, clanging around your head like the chime of church bells. "Probably not right away – it's going to hit you like a semi, first. And you'll feel like shit afterwards. But it won't last. You'll move on, and you'll be okay; because you have to be."
He drifts off somewhere far away when he says that last bit; and you're not too sure what he's talking about anymore. Regardless, you wrap his words around you, holding it to your chest like a little songbird in the cradle of a tree. 
You'll be okay. You have to be. 
It feels less solid when it's not Miguel saying it, you think. You don't tell him that, though, sinking into the seat instead. 
He doesn't let that silence sit for too long. Traffic creates a natural lull, and he reaches over to tap at the book in your lap – one of many different textbooks, the rest of which is lodged in your bag.
"You're taking a stats module, I assume."
You nod. 
"With Dr. Karev?" 
You sit up slightly. "...yeah, actually."
He hums. "You thought it would be an easy A, then." 
He's right, but it doesn't make it sting any less. You were hoping for simple math and data processing, and here you were: drowning in matrices and linear algorithms.
 "I thought it would be."
"Let me help you, then. I took one of his classes and he barely changes the syllabus. I could dig up my old notes, and–" 
"You want to tutor me ?" You splutter – but you don't mean to sound as shocked as you do. " Why? " 
"Why not?" He shrugs. 
"I… I don't have any money, or anything."
"M'not offering because I want money." He's nonchalant, inching towards the car up front. 
You squint. It's not adding up. "What's the catch?" 
"No catch, I swear. Is it so hard to believe I'm being nice?" 
Now, you feel guilty. "Sorry, Mig. I appreciate it, I really do–" 
"Sit on my face and we'll call it even."
He turns to you now, face flat but with a twinkle in his eye. The corners of his mouth are slightly upturned - amused. He thinks this is funny? 
You give him a light shove as the traffic starts to break up. He's riled you up, now, and you're much too annoyed to be nervous. 
"Eyes on the road, asshole." 
It's more bark than bite, and you settle into the seat, finally cracking open the paper bag. You munch on fries and it makes him laugh. Miguel swears he can see it: the hint of a gentle smile on your face. 
~~~
He pulls up to the apartment complex. Modest, close to the hospital; and you probably couldn't have afforded to live there without your ex. Jamie was lucky; his parents could foot the bill of moving out, and he had family that lived in the city. 
It feels odd to be on the outside looking in. The building's windows become snapshots into other people's lives. For some, it meant an early night, blinds drawn and lights off. From the parking lot, you can see the dim yellow of lights streaming through other apartments. Silhouettes flit past every now and then; the only sign of life. 
Jamie's apartment is on the top floor, the two windows on the far right. You crane your head out of the car window, to get a better look. The lights are on, with one window left slightly ajar. 
Miguel moves to get out, with shuffling that breaks the silence. You stop him with a hand on his arm. 
"No, no. I'm going up by myself."
He cocks his head to the side, ever so slightly. 
"...you sure? If you need help shifting boxes, I can–" 
"I'm good, Mig. I just needed the car."
It comes out snappier than you meant it to, already irritable. With that, you pop the door open with a thunk . You can't see it, but he frowns, watching you swish and sway towards the entrance. 
You trace familiar steps to Jamie's apartment. The door code hasn't changed, and so you buzz yourself in. This is something you can do quickly and efficiently, you've decided. In and out, and you don't have the energy for much else. Bracing at the door, you get ready to knock, hand curled into a fist. 
The door swings open before you get the chance. He's there; still in light blue scrubs and a name badge pinned to his chest. It's the first thing you see, trying not to look at his face. But it's like pulling teeth, you decide: less painful when it's quick and sharp. 
" Where's my –" 
" Your stuff's in the –" 
In a great clash of words, you finally look up at him. Where you're expecting some form of emotion – a flash of something, even for just a moment – Jamie is steadfast. Blank; blinking back sleep, if anything. You clamp down what feels like bile rising in your throat and push past him into the front room. 
"Is this how it's going to be?"
Head down, you grit a quiet, "Don't . "
It's just as you left it, to the point it's almost comical. The same pillows you'd bury yourself in after work, the patterned tea towel you'd bought on a whim. The bar stools in lieu of a proper dining table, and that great big desk he had insisted on carting to the living room for years . Bits and pieces of you, of your relationship, and he barely bats an eye. He'll use your mugs and sleep on your patterned sheets. 
It makes you sick .
You head to the second room. There's a stack of boxes, hastily stashed in the corner. There's still permanent marker on them from when you first moved in. Now, it houses the things you couldn't take with you the first time – everything you left behind. 
Sick, sick, sick . 
You take a moment to dig through the top box, that's clearly been moved. Knick-knacks, books, clothes and all the clutter you've acquired; and it reminds you of family, it reminds you of friends. 
Jamie leans by the doorway, looking on in silence. 
When you pick up a box, straining to lift it, he doesn't offer to help. He watches as you flounder, dragging it towards the door. 
You're huffing when he finally says something; something that's clearly been on his mind for a while, with the way he says it. 
"Are you seeing someone?" He's looking out of the window, gaze fixed on the car parked outside. Miguel's car. 
Your eyes widen. You don't quite trust yourself to speak.
You leave the box by the door. "Are you?“
He shrugs. "Don't have the time."
It's noncommittal and frustratingly blasé. He's not giving you much, and it's fucking with your head. This whole thing feels like a big joke – he wants to talk, and all he's doing is asking bullshit questions. Once upon a time, you would've stewed in it; sat with that question on your tongue and let it rot. 
"I don't understand." You croak. It hurts to say out loud, but you say it. That's the important part. "I don't know why you're doing this… why are you still doing this?"
"I don't like how we left things." He says it slow, like he's choosing his words carefully. 
You want to scream.
" So? " 
" So , I need some kind of closure. We've got unfinished business."
" Unfinished business? " You roll it around on your tongue, reeling at its bitter taste. It feels clinical and lifeless, yet again. 
And then… oh. It clicks. Looking at him, arms folded and leaning on a wall, he looks antsy and uncomfortable. Now, when forced to face you. 
" Closure. " Another word that tastes like shit. You give a watery laugh. "You feel guilty."
He doesn't say anything but his body language says enough. He shifts his weight side to side, unable to make eye contact. 
You don't bother to stick around for an answer, snatching up the box as best you can. Through the doors, and down the corridor. You stagger down the flight of stairs, gritting your teeth. It's heavy – you've packed as much as you can inside, trying to get this over quickly – and you make it to the first floor before it clatters onto the steps. 
You fold ; knees drawn to your chest and hands tight in your hair. Heart racing, chest pumping: you're trying not to get swept away by heavy emotions. The tide rises. You pump your legs around the swirling mass - barely staying afloat in deep, deep water. 
You'll be okay. 
You remember Miguel's words, gentle and sweet and kind. You remember the way he said it; firmly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. The kind of grace that you don't have to work for and doesn't need a performance. He believes in you, at least; thinks you're stronger than you have any right to be. And you think of him in the car: eager to help and reassure. You brushed him off. You were mean. 
Deep breath. 
Miguel's waiting for you, just outside those doors. Diligent and patient, saccharine-sweet Miguel. Getting up, you make your way down the stairs with that box. 
When he spots you, a pretty little thing in a hoodie and jeans, he leaps out of the car. 
"Hey, hey, easy… " 
"I'm good, Mig – " 
You're struggling with the box, and he eases it out of your hands without breaking a sweat. One hand on the boot of the car, the other holding up the heavy box effortlessly, and he gives you a quick once over. 
"...he didn't offer to help?" His face is scrunched up - disgusted by the looks of it - and all you can manage is a limp shrug. 
It doesn't take him long to figure it out. You're dejected; nervous, down-trodden, blue in every meaning of the word; losing a little bit of that shine you had started the day with. If he had to guess, and he knows you well enough he'd bet money on it, it was that ex of yours – stealing away that light in a burlap sack, a thief in the brilliance of bright sun. 
It makes him grind his teeth, eyes flicking up at the fourth floor window. 
"I could help." He offers, a hand on your shoulder. It's your favourite hoodie, he thinks, as he circles the soft fabric with his thumb. 
You purse your lips, thinking it over. 
"It'll be quicker, chula. "
That pushes you over the edge, and you finally nod. 
It must be a sight, knocking at the door with Miguel hot on your heels. After living with him for so long, you've forgotten how intimidating he can be when you first meet him; taller than Jamie, and mean-mugging the blonde with a deadly look. If you weren't so on edge it would make you laugh: you know your roommate is mostly harmless. 
Jamie doesn't, of course. He visibly bristles, looking you both up and down. 
"I just need some help with the boxes. This is my roommate, Miguel."
You turn to the man beside you.
" Miguel ," You say it softer. "This is Jamie."
Wordlessly, he stretches out a palm,
rough and broad and tan. Hesitant, the man in front of you takes it. 
"Hey, man." Jamie flashes you a strange look when he says it. 
Miguel doesn't answer. 
You lead him to the second room, divvying up the boxes as Jamie hovers at the doorway. It's surprisingly efficient: Miguel insists on taking the heaviest boxes, hauling them up onto his shoulders, before stacking them up at the door. You'll take the smaller stuff, and it seems everything will be done in far fewer trips than before. It's hard to say out loud, but you're grateful for his help – Miguel was right , for once. 
After the first trip, he's bounding back up the stairs for more. You've both made it into a game, with neither one of you having to explain the rules. He pinches your arm whilst you sift through boxes, and you stick your tongue out in response. Elbow deep in crap, and he manages to make it feel a little better. 
Jamie stews. Jamie festers. In a corner of what used to be your shared apartment, he pretends to tap at his phone, uninterested. You know him too well for that facade to stick. 
Miguel takes the last of the boxes down, and you're straggling behind, picking up the last few bits and pieces. You're left alone with your ex, for a brief moment. 
"You're fucking him." He says it quiet, in a whisper that sounds oh-so loud in that little room. Fucking. He spits it out, and makes the word feel cheap and dirty. 
You look up from across the room. Slowly, he traverses its width, gaze pinning you down like a bug under a microscope. 
He brings a hand to your chin, cupping the flesh tenderly. It's intimate and familiar, reminding you of better days. Something bubbles up in your stomach, sweet and innocent. That feeling doesn't last long. 
"You're fucking him." 
It's accusatory, spat out with a rueful smile pulling at his lips. His fingers brush over your throat and you squirm, pulling up the mouth of your hoodie. 
Those hickies, blossoming like flowers in the spring. They crackle across your skin like fallen leaves in autumn. 
"It's none of your fucking business."
"Of course you are. I can't believe you." He rolls his eyes, half-laughing. "I was going to apologise! I was planning to say sorry for the way I handled things and you had to rub it in my face."
" What ?" You croak. 
"You brought the guy you're fucking to our apartment!" He explodes. 
His lips flatten into a tight line.
" ...now it's our apartment? You kicked me out. You dumped me ." 
"Don't…. fuck , don't do that. Don't make me the bad guy, here. I gave you plenty of time to find a new place."
"Two. Weeks." You grit. "You gave me two weeks, asshole. You left me alone, and told me to fend for myself whilst you fucked off to your sister's." 
That fire dies down as he hesitates. "I… I would've let you stay longer. You know that, baby."
" No. No I don't know, 'cuz you don't tell me shit , anymore." You blink back hot tears. "I don't make as much money as you do, and my family can't support me like yours can."
"I would've–" 
"You didn't. " You swallow roughly. "You didn't. I don't even know what I did wrong ."
"No, no." He cradles your face with his hands, swiping at stray tears. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Now, you look up at him. With glistening eyes, and a heavily furrowed brown, it barely comes out as a whisper; red-raw and strained. 
"Then why don't you love me?"
He doesn't deny it. There isn't a scramble to reassure you; to pat your head and kiss away tears to show you how much he cares. Instead, he steps away guiltily. 
"I care about you, of course I do. Remember when you changed your major?" 
You nod. 
"I was there, wasn't I? I stayed up for hours talking you through it. And when you dropped out, I came over on the weekends and brought you groceries."
"I was there. I helped you through that funk , and helped you get that job for school. Every stupid little question, every depressive episode, all those moments where no-one else would help: I did. Even though I had other things going on in my life, I showed up. For you. It was enough, for a while."
Until it wasn't. He sighs. 
"I'm starting my residency next year… and you're still in school, right?”
“Yes, I am.” You say it simply, not able to say much more without breaking down.
“I'm happy for you, really - proud that you actually got that far. But we're going in different directions, and at different paces. It's easier now that we're not together.”
You bristle at his tone: still in school, actually got that far . It oozes pomp and a quiet kind of superiority. Easier now, like it was difficult before. 
“I didn't make that decision because I hate you, or because I don't care about you. I know you're angry.” He places his hands on your shoulders, and doesn't break eye contact. For the first time since you got here, you think he's finally showing emotion; quiet melancholy just below the surface. Up this close, you can see it: deepening bags under his eyes, sallow skin, and fine lines. Jaime looks tired. In fact, he seems exhausted .  
“I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. But that doesn't excuse the fact that you brought your fuck buddy here, when I just wanted to talk.”
It feels cruel. The way he looks at you, and the way his demeanour switches from the Jamie you knew before, to this .  
"I wanted to talk." You strain. " Months ago. After you broke up with me, and disappeared off the face of the planet. Every time I called, crying and panicking, it went straight to voicemail." 
You shake his hands off of you, stepping back. 
"Miguel's a friend… did you ever think of that? Maybe I just needed some help moving my things, Jamie. Maybe I don't have that many friends since they stopped talking to me because of you, Jamie. Maybe, there's not some devious plot to spite you."
You pick up the rest of your stuff, a little basket of trinkets and books. The very same books that he had told you to pack up; to make some space for his textbooks. 
"Get your head out of your ass. Don't call me. Don't text me. I'm done. "
You're already halfway out of the door. With that, you start to storm off; clattering into Miguel by the stairs. When your things spill out of your hands, you both drop to your knees in a scramble to pick them up. You're chewing the inside of your cheek so hard it draws blood, fumbling around. Miguel is more efficient, scooping up your belongings back into its box. 
You're drooping, only able to mutter a quiet thanks. On the way to his car, you're dejected. Miguel watches carefully, trailing behind. 
~~~
He doesn't know what to say. 
You've left him speechless before. Many times, in the span of your couple months together. Miguel recalls it in exasperated messages to Lyla; you're something else entirely. Frustrating, sometimes. Quick-witted. Perceptive. Thoughtful. A million and one words to describe you, and yet, it still doesn't paint the full picture. You are multi-faceted and brilliant in a way he's not sure he completely understands. 
[Sent: 22:33]
Can't explain it, Ly. 
[Sent: 22:33]
I'm going fucking crazy. 
[Received: 22:34]
ur being dramatic :p
[Received: 22:34]
think u just need to get laid 
[Sent: 22:34]
Fuck off. 
[Sent: 22:35]
I said I'm taking a break. Meant it. 
[Received: 22:37]
(image attached) 
[Received: 22:37]
got this at the party
[Received: 22:37]
ur staring, mig
[Sent: 22:38]
… 
[Received: 22:38]
that's my dress! told u I have great taste :)) 
[Received: 23:06]
miggyyy
[Received: 23:06]
stop ignoring me! its not fun anymore >:(
That was a while ago. Before anything serious happened between you both. And he's had the privilege of seeing you in many different ways; stressed, angry, beaming with joy. Bouncing off the walls after too much coffee, or crawling out of bed following a late night. He's seen your lips curve to form a delicious O as you writhe underneath him; he's seen you smile. He'd tattoo it onto his skin, if he could. 
Fuck . He's overthinking it. 
You've retired to your spot on the couch, and yes, he's staring. Tracing the slope of your jaw and the tilt of nose outlined by the glow of the TV. After getting back home late, he brushed off limp protests and took most of the boxes up himself. It sits in a pile by the dining table. You'll deal with it tomorrow, he supposes. 
Retreating behind your ratty blanket, you stare blankly at the screen. Glassy eyes, you've curled up to watch reruns late into the night. Can't sleep, you told him, as he hovered by the doorway. 
He should go to bed. It's nothing to do with him, really, and he shouldn't have overheard as much as he did. Miguel is curious but not nosy, and well-versed on the art of minding your business . So he shouldn't feel his heart splintering; creaking like the trunk of a felled tree; hacked into two by the way he sees you drowning. 
He sits by your side. Not too close, of course, he's wary of all the shit you've been through today; not wanting to make you feel more uncomfortable. 
He's reminded of a childhood holiday. Half a summer spent at a campsite, bounding through woodland and creeks somewhere up north. Gabi and him would disappear, forgoing the beaten paths for their own adventure. Miguel couldn't make friends the way his brother could, so he'd straggle behind; watching from afar as the other kids would climb trees or swim in quiet lakes. Reading by the banks, and he remembers a time someone had slipped under the water. Drowning, and it wasn't anything like the movies. It was quick, silent and deadly. Thrashing under choppy water, and then…
…nothing. Just quiet. 
He feels that panic rising now, watching you stay so eerily still. You've slipped under the waves, and he doesn't know what to say to pull you back out. 
Miguel isn't too good with words. He's not known for his warmth, or comforting presence. Sometimes, he thinks he wasn't built with that switch turned on in his head – and he certainly didn't learn the right words from his parents. And so, he gives you comfort the only way he knows how. He shows you. He takes care of you. 
You come to him. Like two parts of a whole, you slot together perfectly: your head on his shoulder, at first. You end up on his chest, curled up like a housecat; matching shaky breaths to his steady ones. He brings a hand to your shoulder, drawing lazy circles in the fabric to soothe you. 
With the dull chatter and gloom of the TV, you fall asleep. It takes Miguel a little longer, but he wraps his arms around you. He listens out for it: the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Steady, like a metronome, and it grounds him – drowning out the creak of gears. 
_
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cloveroctobers · 8 months
Text
FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.
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A/N: so carmy won this time around!!! Thanks to all those that voted and ultimately made this decision for me lol. Hope you guys enjoy this and have a safe, healthy, and happy love season 🩷 + yes this is a mixture of fluff and angst...i mean come on! I wouldn't be me if i didn't include that in here somewhere!
PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 1. “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.” “What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?”  + always giving the other the first bite of their food < or the last.
WARNINGS/SN: I wrote with a black or brown reader in mind although reader isn't physically described + they’re given a name only when mentioned, language is a thing here duh!, this is LENGTHY, lots of timelines: reader + nat became friendly before season 1 during the summer prior to 7 fishes which is estimated to be five years before season 2, reader knows of carmy due to past work, I feel like she can be just a few year(s) older than carmy but younger than nat—there’s a age gap for the Berzatto’s anyways, sexual relations are mentioned, this piece takes place months after the grand opening, & finally there’s a possible chance for a poly relationship or maybe just multiple crushes going on? Take that how you will.
𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡
it was a Sunday.
The kind of Sunday you woke up embarrassed about but knew you had to swallow your pride and just send out that text. You knew you wouldn’t be judged regardless reaching out to Fak because he’s built to deal with things like this and never made you feel like shit about anything.
You usually had to squeeze it out of him to get him to lay out any cons about a situation but appreciated most times when he didn’t. Your minds been going haywire with a recent assignment as a food journalist and it really slipped your mind, although you were usually a quick thinker, you’ve been stressed over this recent restaurant. Thankfully it clicked for you after throwing a tantrum to simply reach out to Fak to come help you out.
The stupid lever in your bathroom decided to stop flushing on you and of course you panicked. Who wouldn’t panic in a situation like that? You no longer had a roommate and strongly debated if you even wanted to search for another; after the shady actions of the previous one, so you really didn’t have to worry about them giving you shit either. (Let’s see if your rent feels the same next month!)
It was just you in the end and perhaps you were learning to be okay with that.
Yet that didn’t stop you from FaceTiming Sydney about it. “Hey Siddy, how’s your day going?”
“Pretty good, yours?” She politely asked as she moved down the hallway of her shared apartment to prop her phone on the pedestal sink, moving around her functioning bathroom to grab some oil to grease her scalp.
Smacking your lips you glare, “it fucking sucks.”
“Oh?” Sydney questioned, appearing back in frame, “what happened? Did someone egg and scratch up your car again after a review you gave them? Noo wait, don’t tell me there’s a bullet hole?!”
That was light work compared to New York (it really wasn’t a competition of which state had its worst moments but your home state left you kinda triggered, not gonna lie!) where you were just starting off and those that were in tune with the culinary world didn’t take your words with a grain of salt. Most nights you still woke up gasping for air, reaching for your throat due to some trauma of a break in from a well-known nepo-baby chef. Don’t get that twisted, your mom didn’t raise no punk but that didn’t mean those events didn’t mess with your mental and you acknowledged that every time you had a nightmare. They only served three years and five months compared to the original five year sentence.
Ah the system…got to love how that works out for the privileged!
You shrugged, “no…the threats have been pretty tame lately so I can give myself a pat on the back for that. However! I still am in a crisis.”
Sydney begins to move her braids around to expose her scalp, “Elaborate for me.”
“My toilet won’t flush!” You whine, laying flat on your messy bed. You tended to not make your bed on Saturdays and didn’t get around to making it today—although it was after 3pm.
Sydney asks, “Like the waste won’t go down…?”
“Exactly!” You confirm throwing your arm over your eyes dramatically, “The lever thing is moving like my old dislocated shoulder.”
Sydney gags, “don’t fucking remind me of that day. That was spooky to witness but I am glad you healed from that.”
“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”
Sydney gives a small smile, “don’t mention it…have you considered YouTubing it? That’s what I do when I don’t want to ask anyone for help and figure it out by myself.”
You hummed knowing this was true. In a sense you could be like that too, especially when it came to the working field, since writers can tend to be some nasty bitches and always in rivalry with each other. You made a name for yourself in Chicago as well, coming from New York where you worked just as hard-maybe even harder than the rest to mean and write exactly how you felt about cuisine, regardless if anyone agreed or not. It wasn’t about if people liked you, the relationship with food would always be more significant and hold value in your life, just like the rest of these chef’s you encountered and you got that, people were allowed to be sensitive about their work. You’ve come toe to toe with many chef’s around the world who didn’t like your take on their craft but that didn’t mean you didn’t understand them. They hardly took the time to really dive into your ratings and automatically took it as you shit talking or not having any idea what you were saying since you “weren’t really a chef,” but you knew your worth most days.
Yes you could be straight forward but that didn’t mean you lacked compassion like some chef’s liked to think according to your reviews. You often wrote in a way that was puzzling to some, almost philosophical or riddle like with your own twist. Some just didn’t get it and that was okay but you wouldn’t back down from any confrontation. The second they didn’t want to really listen, that’s when you removed yourself from the escalating problem. It didn’t have to get violent like some wanted to inflict.
“Why didn’t I think of that?!” You exasperated, slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead.
Sydney snorted, “maybe because you’re under a lot of pressure lately and the most simplest of things don’t come as easily as they should.”
“You would think I have high blood pressure with the way these past two weeks have been.”
Sydney says, “give it time.”
“Gee, thanks! That’s exactly the kind of shit I want to hear from you.” You roll your eyes at the blurt of words that commonly escaped the braided girl’s mouth.
Sydney breathes out a laugh, “I’m just joking!”
“Yeah, yeah! Maybe I should text fak back and tell him not to come by!”
“You asked fak instead of the apartment manager?” Sydney is in amazement.
“Fuck that noise, he’s so full of shit that he should see a doctor about it. He’ll show up to analyze the problem, then acts like he’s going to fit you into the schedule and then when you catch him in the lobby he pretends that he has amnesia.” You commented with a scowl.
You get ready to minimize the call to text fak but some obnoxious knocks at the door made you pop up from your bed. “That was fast!”
Hopping up from the bed and padding out of the last bedroom in the apartment, you made the journey through the foyer to the awaiting black front door. Peeking through the peephole you spot Fak grinning widely up into it, almost making you jump back.
“He’s made it Siddy! I’ll call you back!”
“K. Good luck!” Sydney calls out before you end the call to pull the door wide open.
“Neil!” You scream, quickly latching onto his tatted wrist ready to yank him in until you notice someone else is with him, “…why is he here?” You point.
Fak quickly glances over at a brimmed Carmy who raised a brow at him in a silent told you so manner, “I mean we were having a boy’s day when you called and I didn’t want my buddy to be left out. Plus, it’s always great to have some assistance.”
“…i find it hard to believe that Carmen wants to fix my toilet.” You cross your arms, poking out your hip as you stare at him.
Carmen shrugs his shoulders, “I wanted to wait in the car if it makes you feel any better.”
“Hmm…it doesn’t.”
Carmy rolls his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose briefly in agitation, “you know what, fak you’ve got this right? I know you do so—
“Nope!” Fak quickly interrupts, “this maybe a two person job so aspie if you just let us do what we came to do—
Shooting an arm out to block the doorway you peer into Fak’s dark teal eyes to show you mean business, “didn’t I say I dislike that nickname, Neil?”
He nods.
“Also i find it offensive that you brought an uninvited guest to my place.”
“Just be glad it wasn’t Richie because that was also a possibility before he ran off to pick up the kid.” Carmy snaps making you roll your eyes.
If Richie was here you been would have slammed the door in both Fak and his face. Sure you had some sort of tension with Carmy and beef with .......his cousin but at least Carmy only gave it back to you when he had the energy to—meaning if he was already on one. The issue was simple, you wrote a not so nice review once before when the eldest berzatto, Michael was alive and running the joint. Richie couldn’t forget that and actually kept the clipping, yes the clipping of the review way back when. He had the receipts to show Carmy and Carmy actually brushed it off then, not seeming to really care or doubt some of the words that were said.
He came to revamp the place because Mikey left it for him, to fix the mess his big brother left behind, to create what they’ve always dreamed of. Sure he got shit for it in the beginning and part of him felt like maybe that was your case too? He could relate to you on that, yet the weight was slightly different on his part and he even spoke with you not long after he found those tomato cans.
That gave him a certain push he couldn’t really explain. He may have done a brief dive on you, wondering why you felt acquainted to him—completely forgetting about seeing you once around Noma—choosing to start with reading previous reviews by you on other restaurants here in Chicago and a few interviews you’ve done over the world. You weren’t just some nobody, you held your titles well and it reflected in your work.
You weren’t clueless.
He just didn’t really know what he was dealing with until a short time ago.
What he didn’t expect was for you to show up again on opening night with a certain head chef, also from New York. That made carmy more anxious than anything, seeing you sitting beside that four eyed fuck ready to set off a tornado in the heart of the bear. Was that your motive all along? With carmy attempting to build a bridge, not for you to kiss his ass with praise but there was a odd need to have a simple conversation with you. It was weird but it seemed like Sydney, Fak, and Nat liked you?
The jury was still out with the rest—except Richie but you were a mystery to Carmy. However carmy wasn’t the best at putting a read on people or their emotions in the first place, he was good at fucking that up unless you’re screaming it into his face. That’s just how he operated.
“You two can come in—only because I don’t have the patience with the manager here and Neil’s the best I’m gonna get.” You state while fak slaps a hand on his chest.
“That was really sweet, Aspen.” Fak cooed ready to pull you into a bone crushing hug but you hold up a finger.
“Save the hugs until after you fix my problem.”
“You got it boss,” Fak salutes before diving under your arm to travel through your apartment, ooo-ing and ah-ing before finding the bathroom around the corner from the living room.
Sighing you drop your arm and wave carmy through, who keeps his view straight while traveling through the hallway. You call out to him, “you can have a seat on the couch.”
“What? Did you drop a load or something and is that the real reason why you don’t want me to help Fak?” Carmy comes right out with it, nose twitching in amusement after whipping around to face you in the center of the living room.
See…only when he’s frustrated or overly focused will he just let it out. Some may look at this as Carmy attempting to make a joke but you took that somewhat personally. The only thing you were thinking after he said this was: What an ego on this one huh?
You stop on your heels and tilt your head to the side, “are you telling me that you think women or fem pronoun users don’t take shits? Do you know what it feels like to have period shits?”
Carmy blinks at you and shouts with his hands out, “I...don't even know what the fuck you're getting at? I wasn't even trying to be sexist to you just then! I asked you a honest question—
“About you being in my business,” you pointed out, “contrary to your beliefs I have a heart and decided to be nice to you and let you stay in my place to keep warm. You’re welcome!”
“Oh bullshit, don’t act like you’re doin’ me any favors.” Carmy scowls, “you don’t even want me here.”
You shrug, “yet you’re here in my apartment, yelling.”
Carmy exhaled while you smirked at him sweetly before turning to lean against the wall that leads to the bathroom.
“Everything okay in there, Neil?”
“Oh yeah!” He says, “I think I figured out the problem. Easy peasy!”
“Great!” You exclaim, pulling your phone out from your sweats to read a very important email.
The weight of stress seemed to lift a good chunk as you quickly responded to a email that you’ve been waiting for. You’ve been invited out (squeezed in) to a taste test at this restaurant for this evening that you’ve been trying to get into for a month before you brought it up to your employer. The deadline was approaching for the end of this week to have a review ready and they just responded to you five days before that deadline! Reading over it twice, the squeal in you slipped through your smile until you read the exceptions.
If you were to go over the amount of food purchased, which you would put on the company card anyways, you can get a discount if you brought a plus one and some reimbursement if the review was satisfactory to the owners—which the last part wasn’t unfamiliar to you.
You usually didn’t bring a plus one to any of the places you did reviews for, you got comfortable doing outings all on your own but this was different. Sure you were somewhat known in the culinary world but that didn’t mean you were a millionaire and this restaurant was apparently upscale. There was a waiting list regardless of your status—even for the celebrities that went there so this was a big deal and they gave you a short notice. Usually Sundays were known for a reset for the week but what better way to start it?
You don’t go forward with reaching out to anybody else that you work with. This was your battle and you were aware that two of your other co-workers also reached out to this restaurant. You just hoped you were the only one they picked and wouldn’t miss out on the great opportunity just because you weren’t sure about your guest.
A few hours before show time and you had to find somebody to attend with you. Your best friend was away in Cabo for a honeymoon, the other (who recently planned on moving to ATL) was dealing with the flu and had their no good ex boyfriend taking care of them, Sydney was suddenly MIA, and you even considered inviting Natalie Berzatto to piss carmy off just a bit.
“Hey, Nat!” You greet into the phone as you walk into the kitchen, witnessing Carmy perk up from the couch.
It’s small talk at first: you asking about how her day is going as a mom to be, if she’s going to be at the bear tomorrow, did she watch the Emmy’s the other night, tell her husband you said hello, and then finally if she had plans for tonight.
“…are you asking me to hang out?”
“We had fun at that club way back when no?”
“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”
You knew it’s been awhile. You were always friendly with Natalie, meeting her first—well second out of the siblings down at the small mart one summer you helped out at that your great-uncle owned. She was huffing about something her boyfriend at the time, Pete forgot to bring her and some groceries she was picking up for her mom. You were cool enough to become Facebook friends, exchange numbers, go out for coffee and go to the club together. This wasn’t unusual to call each other randomly but you knew she commonly got shit from Michael and Richard about her talking and hanging out with you.
The thing about Natalie Berzatto is that she always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Yes she saw your review yet she kinda laughed about it initially but it was all fuck you’s from the other two loud mouth’s. Of course she was going to listen to her brother but she still had a mind of her own. she didn’t care to listen to Richie go off but she understood how Michael felt, although she was the only other Berzatto that heard you out.
Except you didn’t owe anybody an explanation even if some felt you were more cutthroat in your younger years.
“...Before you and Pete even thought about marriage?”
You were younger than them but you imagined how it would always work out for Nat and Pete, which included growing old together.
“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”
“So…?”
“Can’t do it.”
“You didn’t even hear all the details!”
“I know, I know and it sounds like it’ll be a real fucking blast but if this kid wasn’t sitting on my sciatic nerve constantly and if my feet weren’t the size of two honeydews…I totally would! But I’ll have to decline this time around—so please don’t hate me!”
“I could never!”
“You know you could always ask carmy-
“Why on earth would I do that?” Your reply was instant.
Natalie sighed over the phone, “aspen…the potential of friendship and love is a beautiful thing.”
You scrunched up your face at the phone before placing it back to your ear.
“Do you want me to hang up on you?”
“I’d call you a rude bitch if you did but then get over it.”
“I can live with that because I know it’s real love between you and I.”
“…whatever that means.”
“Right.”
You both laugh, knowing just how weird the subject of love can be. Although you didn’t talk all the time it was always okay for one of the other to drop a venting text or call each other’s way and know the other would get around to responding. The both of you may not be the best of friends but you did consider each other friends regardless. There were conversations between the both of you that no one knew about and would be a constant reminder of what kind of friends the both of you would remain.
Natalie wished things could have been resolved between you and Michael but she reassured that the dislike wasn’t as deep as it seemed. There was no secret that you felt awful about how his life ended and being there for nat during that time also meant a lot. She told you that one of the last conversations she had with Michael was about you and it felt as if he was learning to let go of your review, slowly taking in Nat’s words of you not having a cruel bone in your body especially with all that you’ve done for her.
Anybody that showed his sister true friendship couldn’t be complete garbage. As much as he tolerated Pete, Michael was always aware that he was good enough for his sister. They were all cut from different cloths and the Berzatto’s were just from the same but opposite corner’s.
Natalie telling you this was not to erase any worries you had since that is always brought to the surface when someone you’ve been face to face with before decides to end it all. It was to show you that nobody ever truly knows what anyone is thinking whether there is love there or not.
You can feel Natalie smiling through the phone, “Think about it…all that tension could be smoothed out if you extend the olive branch…now it’s your turn.��
“It’s not my fault he switched up on me after your opening night.” You didn’t lower your voice or make it louder but you were definitely staring at carmy now who was side eyeing you, looking like phineas from phineas and ferb.
“That’s something you need to talk to him about, don’t you think?” Her tone was always so gentle that it made you sick sometimes because she could be right.
“I’m not here to do think pieces.”
“…aren’t you a writer?”
“Have a good night, nat.”
“Ta-Ta!” Natalie sing-songs, “be sure to send me the deets later because carmy never tells me anything! Bye! Chat later!”
Hanging up the phone, you slide it onto the counter and tap your nails against the island. To the right of you, you pick up on some clinking in the bathroom—which sounds somewhat normal and zone in on carmy who’s also holding onto his phone but staring at the blank tv in thought.
“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.
His bright blues turn to you as if he hasn’t been eavesdropping on your conversation here and there between his texts with Marcus.
“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”
The air is frigid as the both of you hunch your shoulders shoving through Chicago’s winter. Shockingly the streets are filled with cars tonight so you had to park on the next street over before walking up and around to The Saffron Simmer. Carmy offered to drive, which was a debate—no shock there—since there was no way he was leaving the bear stock van behind for no license having fak to play around in.
Fak definitely found that offensive and said he didn’t mind hanging out at your place, being done with your toilet but with the look you sent him he said he’s find an Uber or fak2 can pick him up. It’s not like you didn’t trust fak in your place…it’s just that the possibilities of what he can get into are endless.
You also didn’t want to ride in the bear’s van not because of shallow reasons, you just wanted to annoy carmy just a bit more for fun. Walking mostly everywhere was the way to go growing up in New York and Carmy working there so doing so here in Chicago wasnt foreign either. However with the type of cold here in this city is enough to give the bravest of hearts hypothermia. So obviously driving was the best option, it’s just the petty back and forth between you two of who will drive had to be spewed.
Eventually you gave in and sat in the passenger side of the van, being on DJ duty for the twenty-five minute drive—something carmy didn’t care to argue over. The both of you made it on time, throwing the door back for carmy to catch then bouncing on your toes while he blew into his gloveless hands waiting on the greeter to find your reservation.
The pictures didn’t do The saffron simmer any justice. There was so much to look at with its modernized speakeasy décor and the high ceilings did a superb job of making the both of you feel small in the spacious space. Thankfully the dress code was business casual so you didn’t have to go all out but you still put in the effort of looking your best in simple attire. You’re shrugging out of your scarf, earmuffs, and puffer coat while Carmy is already seated; with only the removal of his cap across from you in a chair.
He’s watching you as you place everything neatly to the right of you before you're taking a seat in the leather oversized chair, then digging through your tote to pull out your notepad, Sony camera, phone, and bolt pen. You quickly scribble something on the first line and circle it before dropping your pen.
Rolling the sleeves of your long sleeves back underneath your blazer, you roll your shoulders with a close of your eyes before opening them with a look of determination.
“Wow, that was something.” Carmy tells you, making you set your eyes back on him, forgetting just that quick that he was your plus one.
Clasping your hands together you quirk up a brow, “What?”
“Watching you prep.”
You dip your head, “should have seen me before I got dressed…much worse.”
A smirk appears on the corner of Carmy’s lips, “oh yeah?”
“Well yes, I can contain myself in public, Carmen. Your home is supposed to be your safe space so that’s the best place to go a little crazy sometimes.” You inform, yet still not giving too much away.
“Why are you in your head about this place anyway?” Carmy peers around the slightly filled dining area before meeting your eyes once more.
You lift your shoulders, “have you seen the way they market this place? Giving not too much away although it’s top ten restaurants here and I can either contribute to its success or its downfall. They picked me for a reason so my review matters at the end of this year.”
“But you uh-get a thrill out of this shit don’t you? It’s what you signed up for, right?” Carmy is actually relaxed against the chair across from you.
Which is a sight to see.
You state, “it’s part of the job, if that’s what you mean.”
Carmy blinks and seems to get it, “and so you stay.”
“So I stay.” You echo while holding his stare, which is broken by a piece of the stone table lifting and showcasing the menu illuminated by sepia lighting in the dark of the restaurant.
Carmy’s bright eyes are wide as he stares at the menu that appears right in front of your faces. There’s a grin on your face as you rest your fingertips around its rough edges, almost as if you were expecting this while carmy blows out a breath.
“The hell is this place?”
You peek over at him, “some next level shit, berzatto.”
“Yeah…I think I’m starting to catch on.”
You turn your attention back to the menu, swiping your fingertips along the touch screen although you’ve heard things about the menu, which they kept offline since apparently it renews monthly.
“What looks good?”
“Uh…these pages aren’t even labeled." Carmy exhales through his nose, eyes searching all over the tablet, "I have no clue. You?”
The words come at ease for you, "One of almost everything maybe?”
“Sounds good...I guess?”
“On me by the way,” you state with a wink as you flash your company card.
“I’ll get the tip then.” Carmy pats his jeans, the left containing his carton of cigarettes, the right holding his keys, lifting his hips he checks for his wallet although he’s been sitting on his behind for about ten minutes now.
You don’t argue with that, eyes in awe at the selection of items as you start ordering, “don’t forget to order your drink.”
“Water should be fine,” Carmy mutters to himself, eyes scanning over the first strange title of water that is described as flower and ginger infused purified water and decides to go with that.
You finally express after rapidly letting your fingers go over the screen and taking a picture with your phone, “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.”
It sounded so easy to you as you quickly shifted to pick up your pen and start writing notes.
“What was that?” Carmy pressed his elbows into the edge of the table, making sure he heard you right since he’s not even sure if he can trust his inner thoughts lately.
You’re still scribbling but also turning your face towards the messy haired chef, “you heard me. We have to act like we’re in a relationship because I’ve definitely went over the budget on the card.”
“That’s not really my problem?”
“Yes it is,” you demand, “you agreed to be my plus one so that’s that. Plus this menu further confirmed my suspicions from the email.”
Carmy scratches at his brow confused, “what are you talking about, aspen?”
“Here,” you swipe across your screen towards Carmy’s device, which brings up another screen instantly to carmy who’s in awe but scans over the details.
You didn’t share the email with him but he’s heard about how high tech this restaurant is but didn’t have the time to do his own research.
*Significant others in attendance are subject to applicable discounts.*
Carmy feels his stomach cramp at the fine print and it so small that he was sure anyone could have missed that.
Not you.
“…how exactly are we supposed to prove that, hm?” He's gripping at his greasy hair now, feeling himself getting a bit worked up about this.
You fanned your hand along, “just do what couples do and follow my lead...Depending on our witnesses,” you whisper as you look around, “they could always assume that’s what we are anyways.”
Part of carmy didn’t like how that came off.
“What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” Flies out of Carmy’s mouth before he can even process what he’s saying.
That stoops you too, making you press your back against the chair in thought. That wouldn’t be going down in the notes, as you stare at the pen in between your fingers for a moment. Which brings you back to Carmy’s tatted fingers first that touched you in ways that romance novelist craved to write about.
So you may have left that out, how a shared conversation about the “heartless” review of then Chicagoland turned the bear melted into hot and heavy actions in the front seat of your Mazda. It hits you in those same flashes you take of dishes: the unsure sloppy kisses, you taking the lead to get Carmy to just touch you, shaky hands that trace the tattoo from your rib cage down to your hip before soon holding steady and angled just right beneath your red tapered trousers.
“Where did that come from?” You question just as a server greets you, delivering drinks and announcing the small plates should be out in the next five minutes with a timer appearing on both of the stone tablets.
Carmy says, “you—you didn’t just think I forget right?”
“Well I was hoping.” You were honest, “neither of us are ready for relationships—especially hearing about you and Claire.”
Carmy felt his eye twitch, “and how do you know about that?”
Sydney.
You wouldn’t throw her under the bus like that although you could tell carmy already knew.
“I have my resources but don’t think I’ve been asking around about you or anything like that.” You sipped at the raspberry mint cocktail, it could be stronger.
His thumbs are shaking first on the table top but his icy stare made your chest pulsate in a way you didn't particularly like, “…would that be so bad?”
You and carmy didn’t exactly know each other well enough besides a conversation once had and with his hand down your pants! and you trying to get him to crash, clothes still on right in the center of his lap—It was a spur of the moment hookup and you could tell it was not something that happened often for carmy. He never had time for it or bothered to get attached but there was something about you that had him thinking otherwise. What was supposed to be a one time thing that you swept to the back of your mind was being brought up again.
The annoyance overtook what that feeling brought in the front seat of your ride. You weren’t ignoring carmy after that but the both of you had a lot on your plate with him renovating a restaurant and you diving back into your own work. Both fields of work seemed to matter more and not once did you think he ever thought about you in that way.
Communication was important people!
And here you thought he wanted nothing to do with you, especially with you showing up to the grand opening of The Bear. Now here you were months later, basically at your benefit, face to face hearing only pieces of what Carmen Berzatto was thinking.
“Hey, guys!” A familiar voice gathers your attention and you both turn to see Sydney smiling at you two.
Carmy widens his eyes, “Syd, what’re you doing here?”
Sydney snorted, “doing the same thing you’re doing? Having dinner.”
“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.
“Oh my god…am I interrupting this um? Date?” Sydney quickly connected the dots eyeing the both of you back and forth while you’re choking on your drink, “you okay?”
She pats your back for you while you gasp and Carmy slides over his water your way although you have your own glass near by. Gaining some air, you swallow some water and breathe through your nose. Normally you would have a response for Sydney’s joke but given what carmy just said to you had your mind running along with some burning tears you wiped away.
“So this is where you’ve been instead of answering me back?” You decide to switch the subject-you were great at that-wheezing a bit while Carmy scoffs and looks away.
Sydney frowns, “huh? When did you call me besides the FaceTime call…” she starts and pulls out her phone, “oh shit sorry. I placed it on do not disturb like thirty minutes after you didn’t call me back. I got wrapped into some entail about the menu from one of the chef’s that works here and is also a friend.”
Carmy speaks, “Didn’t know you had a connect with anybody here, Syd.”
“Can’t reveal all my moves, Carm.” She winks and lightly elbows him while Carmy sends her a small smile and a shake of his head.
Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”
“Only a little," She pinches her fingers before continuing, "and my dad thought it would be a place I wanted to try.” Sydney admits, “and if you two weren’t on a date I’d say let’s make this a group thing! so I’ll be going! I see my dad coming back from the bathroom…he’s got like a bladder problem and I don’t know why I’m sharing that with you two. But bye! Enjoy and just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you two.”
“Fuck,” carmy exhaled feeling his nerves rising, “don’t do that.”
Sydney chuckles to herself and sends a wave to you two before walking back to her table by the window.
“Siddy kicked me to the curb for her dad,” you sigh resting your cheek into your knuckles for a moment, “can’t be mad at that.”
“But you can be mad at me for what exactly?”
“You wanna do this with me right now?”
“Yeah, I think I do.”
“I thought we could move past what happened—
“You can say it you know? Me with my fingers inside—
“Excuse me!” You hiss, “I don’t need you to repeat action by action thank you. I was there too. We both know what happened, we’d agreed we can coexist around this big ass city. I show up to support—
“Did you though?” Carmy pressed, “support me? Or am I waiting for something else to be thrown at me with your upcoming review?”
“What?!” You bite, “is that what your stank ass attitude is about?”
Carmy tightened his jaw just as the first serving was handed over. You let him sulk in that for some time as you study the plating of the four appetizers, making note of each before taking more pictures with your sony.
“I wasn’t there to write a review.” You reply.
“I saw you—
“Let me finish. I understand pressure so I get it but you have to learn to channel your anger and this grief, elsewhere and deal with it better without projecting it onto any and everybody. I’ll tell you that right now that won’t get you anywhere and especially with me, Carmen.” You affirm.
You’ve been in Carmy’s position before so you can speak with experience. He seemed to always be waiting for the worse to continue filling up his plate but it takes time to accept the good in life. He was giving you something but you weren’t sure it was the best option for the both of you and you weren’t afraid to say that.
“Alright…I didn’t come here to talk about feelings either you know? That’s what those meetings are for.” Carmy spills just a tad.
You stare at the vibrant but delicate plating but his tone and the soft upbeat tempo above your heads don’t go unnoticed. “What did you come here for then?”
Carmy blinks and snatches up a spoon, almost weighing it in his hands before he dives the utensil into the dish. He stares as the stretch of cheese, twisting the spoon to break it apart before holding the Macaroni and Brie with Crab out for you to take the first bite.
He doesn’t answer for awhile and so you do the honors of taking a bite and savoring it's texture and taste.
“…that’s not my favorite.” You announce and notice that Carmy waited for your view.
He raises his brows, “tell me about it?”
“They need different plating.” You deeply sigh, “I know that type of plating works best for a dessert and that’s not it. There’s more breadcrumbs than meat, which seems to not be fully removed from its shell so be careful with that. It’s also lacking flavor even with the brie, which is my least favorite kind of cheese in Mac, although many swear by it.”
Carmy flicks his attention to your disappointment to you scribbling into your notepad with a shake of your head. If he was making you a dish, he’d try his hardest to make sure it was everything you ever wanted.
He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.
Carmy can agree, this was lacking flavor and the breadcrumbs didn’t even have a crunch to them. You can’t just depend on the cheese to give you flavor in Mac and cheese.
“What’s your favorite dish? I—I don’t think I ever asked you that. We just went straight into talking about the beef.”
And doing dirty things in the front seat but who needs to relive that?!
You look up from your notes and lift your chin, “you’re looking at it. It’s childish I know...but that’s exactly what it reminds me of: my childhood. Mac and cheese! then as I got into my adulthood…crab kinda took over. Which is funny because I hated on it for so long growing up. My papa—my grandad, he helped my mom raise me, he's from Ocean City so you can only imagine the amount of seafood on our table.”
You’re smiling to yourself and Carmy can’t help but to feel his small laughter lines appear by his lips as you’re locked into some memory only you can remember vividly. This was the most Carmy was learning about you, sure it may not look like much but he didn’t feel the need to dissociate even if at times he really couldn’t help it.
You were the question mark that he wanted to figure out and get all the answers to. Maybe it was his gut and he shouldn’t have blabbed to sugar about you because now Carmy was thinking this was Michael’s doing.
If you believe in that shit.
So the both of you take your time trying the small dishes before getting the main courses. It seems the longer you sit across from each other—the tension was definitely still there especially with Sydney’s eyes burning into the two of you across the room and attempting to not get caught—although she had once or twice but gradually it lifted as you and carmy shared this time together.
He watched you work while you asked for his input before you told your own. He also provided a few things he would do to tweak it if he agreed with what you didn’t enjoy. Which was eye-opening for you, yes you went to school for journalism and sat in on some cooking classes once that also tied into your passion for learning. After completing your first degree you decided culinary may take you to different heights and enrolled into culinary school. You didn’t find the need to continue going through with being a chef after Copenhagen, finding writing to be your stronger suit but you still understood food and the relationship with it when it came to chef’s.
So you took carmy’s input into consideration.
With the last serving being a Asian dessert called, “Jjan Hae,” which consisted of: coconut rice pudding served with fresh citrus (orange, grapefruit, kumquat) and coffee ice cream, topped with crispy pop rice & a shot of Korean rice wine, it was a strange concept but the both of you came to terms with the dessert working well.
Carmy even took a video to show Marcus tomorrow at the bear and sent a photo to an old colleague, Luca, that you were also familiar with considering Noma was a thing that you didn’t bother speaking much on…but it was your turn to give carmy the last serving.
He hesitated since he had his own bowl, which he finished way before you did but it was clear you wanted him to have the last bite so he also took it while saying something with his eyes.
Breaking the stare, the both of you felt your phone buzz with a text. Carmy didn’t jump to answer it right away…he was the worst texter according to Nat and Sydney but you can answer for the both of you as it was a group text from Sydney who was long gone with her dad.
Siddy + (773) XXX-XXXX: Carmy, invite aspen to breakfast in the morning?? See you guys then! 👍🏾😉
“You guys do breakfast at the bear now?” You say lifting your eyes from your screen.
You heard Sydney made a mean omelette but you haven’t been back since earlier this year and you weren’t in the mood for that that night.
Carmy frowns and closes his eyes with a shake of his head, “uh yeah it’s a new thing that Syd came up with but we agreed to do that with everyone once a month…later this month. Why?”
“She wants me to have breakfast with you guys…knowing I’m not a morning person.”
“It’s not happening tomorrow anyway, so what is she talking about?” Carmy digs into his jacket, where he carelessly shoved his phone into after sending the photo off to Luca.
Another text rings out: at carmy’s place. just us three???
Not Sydney making plans and then placing it all at Carmy’s apartment.
He’s taking a breath, almost as a silent reminder for him to do so before his thumbs move over his screen: i don’t even eat breakfast, Syd.
Syd: well youre gonna.
~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~
“Well, looks like your work wife told your ass.” You laugh, which you translated into her message but didn’t comment further than that.
Carmy harshly exhales through his nostrils in disbelief, “my work wife huh?”
He didn’t hate how that sounded but he also never thought about marriage or relationships in awhile.
“Yeah…the proof is in the pudding, no matter what anyone says.”
Carmy pinched at his bottom lip as he attempts to dryly joke, “I thought it was rice? and what about outside work…”
“That’s something you have to figure out yourself.” You shrug, getting ready to pack up your notes and cameras.
You turn your attention to the table, which knows just when to lift as you tap on the screen to signal that you’re ready to pay while holding out your company card, “are you paying cash for the tip or card?”
“Uh, cash.” Carmy answers, “…what if I’m starting to think about what come’s next?”
“With Syd?” You question, your now sage and mint scented hands flying over the screen as you select the correct paying method before tapping your company card against the screen.
Carmy starts bouncing his leg underneath the table, “with everything.”
“Well…when you’re ready you’ll make moves to make it happen won’t you?”
Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”
And here comes the intense eye contact that you can’t help but to huff out some laughter.
“What’s funny?”
“It’s just people with light eyes always do this thing where they’re just staring into your soul you know? Like damn, relax!”
Carmy’s confused as he holds his wallet open, “uh sorry for having eyes?”
“Shut up, glacier eyes.” You tell while Carmy just snorts at you.
The both of you don’t waste any time rushing back to his car as the clock is approaching 10pm. The wind’s definitely picked up and the temperature dropped, making it easier not to get caught up in the night time city lights which you often liked to do. Back in the van, carmy doesn’t wait to crank up the heat and you don’t bother to mess with the radio this time.
“So?” Carmy asks as he waits for the car to warm up some.
You keep your attention outside the window shield, “yes?”
“What’s the rating?”
“What makes you think I’m going to tell you that, Carmen?” You continue holding yourself.
He sniffs, “I mean—I was sitting across from you the entire night while you told me some of your thoughts.”
“So you thought you should also get the final score? I don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”
“Ah, I think you’ve got some idea.” Carmy lolls his head over to peek at you.
Laughter bubbles past your lips, “I do. I’ve absolutely had better because—what the fuck was that?”
Carmen feels a crooked smirk appear on his own face, “I don’t want to completely bash other chef’s work but fuck, I thought it was just me? You said it got a 4.3 out of 5? The ambience and service was spot on but…the flavor for most of the dishes?”
“I knew you knew something about seasoning,” you continued laughing while carmy rolled his eyes, “should spend less on the tech and interior and more on some fresh herbs.”
“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”
That made you laugh even harder as you gripped your stomach, “You’ve got that so backwards!”
And carmy couldn’t help but to scan your features as you laughed and he felt his chest getting somewhat lighter? Just listening to the sound of you and being beside you. What kind of feeling was this? He’s felt it before looking at someone else but that feeling was more of a tug with that light while this one slowly poured in from the black.
“Don’t be too hard on ‘em though? There’s always room for improvement.”
“Sure, but we both know the bear is better and you guys don’t have a waist list months in advance.”
“We also don’t have any celebrities showing up either.”
“Yet.”
Carmy taps his fingers against the steering wheel, appreciating that, “right, yet…I’m sorry about March. I was too in my head about so much shit and you’re right, I took it out on everyone and I’m still trying to make up for it.”
“Effort doesn’t ever go unnoticed if people look and feel it hard enough.”
Carmy chews on his lips at that, “if you believe that…then why do you feel what I said about dating—uh us—about us dating is out of the blue?”
“I said that?”
“Your eyes did. It’s the most expressive thing about you which is funny to me when you talk so much shit about mine when you hide the rest of it away on your face. It’s fucking confusing but I think I gathered that from our dinner tonight.”
Carmy was just as detail oriented as you. It was in his language with food and maybe even in his tattoos that you tried to understand starting with his fingers first. The way he spoke about what he would do with the dishes that were lackluster, except for the dessert—that was pretty good. Carmy wasn’t much of a talker because he wasn’t sure how to express himself, always been that way since you knew of him at Noma…but he told just enough in his dishes and you told just enough between the lines you wrote.
Someone just had to look hard enough.
“…I ever tell you I was engaged? Of course I didn’t, we’re still…I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here Carmen but I’m starting to sense that we could be special if we both want this badly.”
“What do you want?”
“Does anyone ever really know?” You laughed, “ I guess someone to look past the circumstanial and I had that once but then he died. So that was the end of that.”
“You swore off love.”
“Love is many things but maybe I closed off the long lasting part.”
Carmy could relate to that as least with family. He never had much interest in romance even growing up because he lacked that confidence in anything being permanent besides the chaos he’s used to, then he found some of it once he proved what he fucking set out to do yet cooking was all Carmen really opened himself up to. While Luca and others encouraged him to have a night out in the town, he always left early or if there was one person that caught his interest, they get to talking and both get bored of each other since Carmy hardly made the move to take them back to his. Before Noma?
Maybe.
Back in Paris there was one that could have been permanent but Carmy had to break her heart since Noma was calling. Culinary was his true love and he honestly couldn’t tell you what she even looked like now if you asked him. Things that should have mattered tended to get buried in the blue of his mind unfortunately.
He didn’t have the time to be attached and you didn’t want to have your heart ripped out again.
“How’d—
“He was a firefighter.” Was all you said and just those words alone told carmy it was anything but peaceful.
It took a lot for carmy to scream at himself how Michael went out and he imagined it might have been the same for you. So he wouldn’t dare ask for further morbid details because what did that help?
So maybe you weren’t wrong about the both of you not being ready to take that step on going on dates but change was everlasting.
“Uh—what about breakfast then after that not so great meal?” Carmy asks as he pulls off from the curb now.
You think about it. Really think about it that carmy starts to assume you may have dozed off.
“Depends on the time honestly? And who am I to turn down a free meal?” You beamed at Carmy who lifts his shoulders with a chuckle.
Carmy explains, “Syd and I usually start our days early, sometimes even earlier for me if I don’t get enough hours in. but thanks to the reno those on the early shift can get prep ready and I heard…you’re not a morning person?”
You’re just as sarcastic but there’s no lies, “I don’t even know my name or birthdate when I first wake up…what do you think?”
Carmy snickered at that, “okay? So how does 10am sound?”
“That’s pushing it but…I think I can be there so that’ll give me the rest of the day to work from home.”
Carmy nods, “can’t wait to read it. Shake on it?”
“On what? My review or showing up?”
“Both.”
“I’m not sending you a sneak peek, maybe syd or even nat but not you.”
“Ouch.” Carmy mocks, still waiting for your hand to touch his.
And when you do there’s a spark, that makes you yank your hand back and you feel like you’re in one of those cheesy teen movies.
You’re aware carmy’s felt that too but he just clears his throat and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. Leaving you to lightly massage the palm of your hand, now glancing at the profile of carmy’s face.
Life takes time to live but once you start to just let it be, the green starts to stand out more and can be equally as joyous…once you get through the rain and mud that is.
And once the ice blue sets back on you, the both of you can’t exactly see the future but there’s always warmth waiting for the cold to give them a try.
𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡
February fluff anthology series continues here.
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absolutebl · 23 days
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Hi P’abl!!
Basically, I died back in early July and have missed all things BL, GL, and all the works. I tried to figure out on my own, but I just keep running into spoilers of things I didn’t know had even aired!
Could you just give me a rundown of what’s been going on/happened? I honestly trust you with my life now~
In the last 3 months? Sure:
(I feel like this should be sung to We Didn't Start the Fire)
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Wandee Goodday 9/10
Such a FUN show. A charming quintessentially modern Thai BL about a doctor and a boxer who start as a one night stand and then fall in love. Great rep for everything from Muay Thai, to safe sex, to FUN sex, to ace, to bisexuality, to smiley kisses, to the first legal gay wedding in a Thai BL. It’s a delight and I enjoyed (almost) every single moment of it. 
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Century of Love 9/10
This is a great little show about a young man who fell in love with a pretty girl 100 years ago, and when she died in his arms, he was cursed to live until he could meet her reborn self. Only this time around, she’s reborn into the body of a man. I love it when Thailand gets all up in its own historical business and reincarnation and shizz.
I like this pair. (It’s not DaouOffroad’s fault I didn’t enjoy most of their first series.) Daou’s wushu is pretty snazzy and we got a fun meet cute. (Erm… Remeet cute? Meet cute 2.0?) Plus this is a very PRETTY show. Despite some ham handed comedy moments, this ultimately has more in common with something like I Feel You Linger in the Air meets First Love Again, then (as one might expect) Until We Meet Again or The Director Who Buys Me Dinner.
The leads turned in great performances, although Daou outclassed everybody else on that screen. It’s a good story and a great BL. I’m not sure this is going in my rewatch rotation, but I can’t find any major faults with it beyond a certain level of camp that is sadly endemic to lackorns. Also I’m going to give it credit as the kind of BL that one could safely recommend to lovers of melodrama and historical romance, without having to qualify it as “good for a BL.” It was, to put it succinctly, simply a VERY ENJOYABLE show. 
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We Are 9/10
We Are was slow to find its stride (I didn’t get into it until ep 7) but I’m very glad I gave it a chance. It’s a soft ensemble piece with multiple couples and very little plot, but I didn’t care because it’s not trying to be anything more substantial. Essentially this was a series of vignettes covering one year of uni for a queer friendship group finding love, new friends, and laughter. It’s not being harsh with us or it’s characters the way some offerings of this ilk have been (side eyes Friend Zone and Only Friends) nor did it tumble into Gen Y chaos.
In fact, this reminded me more than anything of a refined and elevated Love Sick - just with older characters and occurring within a genre that has matured too. It has that close queer friendship group meets earnest gentleness that made me adore Love Sick so much. In other words, this was Thai BL at its finest, finding it roots again 10 years on, but also stretching upwards and showing us what it could do with that original seed. So? I loved it. Did it blow my mind? No. But it left me smiling and made me belly laugh quite a bit.
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Cosmetic Playlover 9/10
I loved this little show. It was a classic office BL about the older workaholic who loves his job and the younger upstart who unexpectedly loves his boss. It’s a hyung romance where everybody is extremely earnest and sweet and pretty about everything. Except our seme, who is slightly unhinged and a little obsessed in all the ways one likes best from Japan. Plus the kisses were good! I can’t ask for anything more, utterly charming unexpected gem. What a great time!
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The Rebound 9/10
This was a sports romance Thai BL pulp with everything I could have asked for given this sub genre. More, actually, since MeenPing are both great basketball players and the team component really did form part of the connective tissue of the show (vital in a sports romance). Meen has his shirt off within the first two minutes which is all I needed but he's still pretty great as the sullen secret keeper against Ping's cheerful survivor - childhood sweethearts torn asunder and now reunited. Then Frank sweeps in to give everyone a bad case of second lead syndrome.
I always try to judge BL for what it is AS BL, and what it’s trying to do within its own territory and purview. This did exactly what it claimed on the tin: gay boys play b-ball and fall in love. That was all I wanted from it. Sure there was random kidnapping and a light bought of mass murder, but what’s a BL in 2024 without a touch of the mafia? You do you little pulp, I’m disposed to be pleased.
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My Love Mix-Up (Thai Remake) 8/10
It was fine and it was charming, but it was also a little meh. Thailand managed to take one of Japan's softest cutest most bonkers BLs in recent memory and make it softer and cuter and… dull. They did this by watering it down. JBLs almost always have an edge to them, even the rom-coms, by dulling the edge, MLMU lost a great deal of the sparkle and tension as well. What an office setting managed to mostly maintain in the consummate hands of TayNew felt somewhat lackluster when handed off to the next generation and a high school setting. Cherry Magic was a lovely reinterpretation, Mix Up was an amateur's watercolor rendition of a colorful oil painting.
Am I being harsh? G4 tried their best, and Fourth turned in some outrageously good acting in the latter half. But the show? It was fine. If you like water colors and you haven't seen (and loved) Kieta Hatsukoi.
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This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans 8/10
A story about a kid who infiltrates a cooking competition under false pretenses and then has to deal with the consequences when he falls in love with the head chef. The side couple is a poor little rich boy meets physical therapist (morality chain). The core friendships are excellent and the chemistry cannot be faulted across the (charcuterie) board. What this show lacks in substance it makes up for in health code violations. It was all chili all the time.
Considering that the plot centered on betrayal but the romantic relationship never sweetened enough to balance that bitterness; one could be forgiven for throwing this one in the compost. But I got over all its weaknesses in flavor balancing for an ultimately satisfying meal, with a great dessert course. I've always loved spicy food. Plus the blooper reels were fantastic.
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My Stand-In 8/10
Adaptation of Chinese novel "Professional Body Double" by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KinnPorsche.
Stuntman Joe dies on the job and wakes up in the body of another Joe with an entirely different life. But Joe just starts repeating the mistakes of his previous self - love, work, play.
I enjoyed the experience of watching this show, I looked forward to it every week. I thought everybody did a great job with it and in it, and I liked that is was something substantially different for Thai BL.
But I’m not sure I'll rewatch it or if it's bingeable. It left me feeling more sanguine than happy. Is there, objectively, anything wrong with it? No. But am I in love with it? No. I think that rests on the central characters, Ming in particular. I never liked him or warmed to them as a couple. I spent most of this show just very very sorry for poor Joe. Thus I was never rooting for their romance.
I would recommend it, if you enjoy your BL more cerebral, with complicated unlikable love interests, and a downtrodden sympathetic lead. Is it, perhaps, more JBL that ThBL? Am I biased because it's a Thai production and I had expectations? What magical carnage could Japan have done with this IP? I'm left with questions, but I'm ultimately glad I watched this.
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SunsetXVibes 8/10
Classic CEO meets ingenue archetypes make for a somewhat banal and simplistic romance. This could’ve come from an 80s Harlequin, except that they’re gay. It's… old fashioned. There was nothing meta about this, there was no subversion or commentary on anything BL, queer, or beyond. It’s just a straight up (okay not straight) romance. I was not wild about these characters for this particular pair, but that’s not the pair's fault, they did a decent job with their parts and I look forward to their next show - here’s hoping it’s a bit more meaty. I preferred the side couple because they were more complex and true to BL archetypes, even if they were also a bit miss-handled.
Ultimately? This is a serviceable show if somewhat lacking in its convictions, but with some beautiful sex scenes, people, and fashion. I was a particular fan of Lin‘s gender bending femme style. It’s groundbreaking to see that aesthetic on one of the leads. There were multiple times they could’ve leaned into well established plot points, paranormal elements, and character tension, and instead just glossed over them. This should probably get a 7/10, but I’m giving it an 8 because of that one oppa line at the beginning, Tenon's tatas, and the call back to Big Dragon with that iconic musical refrain in the final episode. It was a pretty fun ride, emphasis on pretty and ride. 
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Love Sea 7/10
Same couple as LITA2 (FortPeat) , new characters to the Mameverse. While traveling a writer has a one night stand with a very irritating man (who also breaks into his hotel room, among other red flag agendas). FortPeat are hot and great together, the GL sides are problematic, neglected, and forgotten. Frankly, this is probably a 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and I'm mad I was so bored throughout. So it gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it. Trash watch here.
Knock Knock Boys 7/10
A story about 4 boys of differing personalities who end up living together and pair up, falling in love. Slow moving and waffling, with some artificially generated family drama makes this a classic Thai pulp except that in general it's a smiley kiss of a show. It had plenty of good qualities like great communication and sexual rep (including toys, first time, safe sex, and sexual identities). The heat levels were on point and well executed, and the performances were good. It’s just that the script and the directing were lackluster, rendering it ultimately forgettable. Still, fine on a rainy afternoon with some camomile tea or whatever.
For what's currently airing go here.
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Was i the asshole for "insinuating" my friend's husband attempted to poisoned me?
I 26cisf have always, since I was quite young, had a fear of people tampering with my food and drinks. If I leave a drink or food in a room with others, my immediate thought when I sit back down is to taste test it to see if it tastes different or see if it looks different. If it dose, I immediately throw it away, wash or get a new dish/bowl/glass/etc and get a new serving. This fear isn't unfounded as, when I was 7 or 8, my dad spit in my bowl of soup and I caught him. He hated me so this wasn't unexpected. Later in life I had 2 different abusive partners threaten to drug me and as a result, all food is suspicious the moment it's left alone with anyone. I've done this to my husband on occasion and he understands.
Earlier this month, I, my husband 26tm, a friend of mine 25cf and her husband 53cm all had a nice dinner together at my apartment. Later on in the evening, our husbands went to play on his xbox in the living room while me and my friend had a drink in the kitchen. The kitchen "ends" right where the living room begins so they were on a couch about 15ft away from us, again, its an apartment. I've been friends with her since middle school so I have no reason to suspect her but her husband is creepy towards me and our mutual friends of our age and is much older than her. I put up with him for her sake and never made an ill comment other than a week after they started dating with concerns about their age gap. My friend and her husband dated for about 8 months and have been married for about 4 months. My husband and friend left so he could show her some break time levels from Mario wonder on the switch in our room while her husband sat on his phone on the couch. My husband mentioned it over dinner, my friend showed interest but wasn't sure so he offered to show her.
I felt ackward and had to pee so I went to the bathroom and when I came back, her husband had changed positions on the couch and I'm pretty sure my drink wasn't in the same place I left it by 2 to 4 inches. I was instantly nervous and took a sip and it didn't taste right. As I was pouring out my drink in the sink, my husband and friend came back and she saw me doing it and glanced once quickly at her husband. I barely turned my head so I'm not sure how she realized I suspected him a little. She knows about my fear and knew how I handled it a few times when I feared she had done something however.... Apparently doing this while mildly suspecting her husband was too far and she absolutely exploded on me out of no where.
She said I was implying her husband was a rapist or abuser or creep and that it was two faced of me to invite people over who I thought might poison me or fuss with my food. She said I always take that fear too far in public settings, which isn't true as I've never done this with groups of people bigger than 3 or 4 friends nor do I vocally accuse them. I just reset my food and move on as it eases my anxiety about it. Her husband got super defensive and started getting my face and my husband diffused the situation by sending them both home. My friend blew up my phone that night and eventually she blocked me for a week before coming back to apologize for her actions but asking me to apologize to her husband for making him feel bad. I told her it was her who made it seem like I was accusing him, not me for doing something she's seen me do a million times.
Eventually it went away but every time I see her, she asks if I'm going to apologize soon but I'm just not sure if what I did was really as offensive as she made it seem. I don't genuinely believe that he tried to poison or roofie me but if there's even a 10% chance, my anxiety is through the roof and I pass out if I just try to push through. No one else, after knowing this fear, has taken it personally as it's just the remains of trauma and fundamentally harmless. Once I'm reset, I often totally forget the scare and they've acted like nothing ever happened. Was i the asshole?
What are these acronyms?
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iheartgirlzn · 2 months
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may we have some hcs for katsuki bakugou where the reader is his kid sibling who got a recessive shapeshifting quirk like Nimona?
CAN A SHARK DANCE
BAKUGO WITH A YOUNGER SIBLING WHO HAS A SHAPESHIFTING QUIRK
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pairing: katsuki bakugo x sibling!shapeshifter!reader
warning(s): swearing, probably ooc bakugo, mentions of him hating quirkless ppl and deku LMAO
🎸 notes: hopefully i got this right !! sorry if i got the whole quirk aspect bit wrong :,) // title from the nimona movie — sorry i haven’t read the comicsss
EEE OK OK!
he would never admit that he loves you.
even though he’d actually burn the world for you, because he’s an overprotective brother like that, he would still rather die than ever admit he doesn’t hate you.
this is what would happen if you asked him: “do you love me?” “………………” ← just intense silence with the most disgusted look on his face.
but honestly, he’d be an amazing brother (most of the time).
depending on how much younger than him you are, depends on how nice he is to you.
if you’re a toddler or tween for example (ages 5-9), he’d probably baby you a lot — but aggressively.
IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT ?! he’d act like how mitsuki does with him.
but if you’re a little older, like a teenager, he’d affectionately bully you.
he’d make fun of how you look and who your friends are, call you names, the usual.
speaking of, he’d never remember what any of your friends are called and because he ‘doesn’t know them’ he’d never let you go and hang with them.
dating is also off the table — he’d just be a dick and talk bad about your s/o the whole time. female, male, or anything in between is a big no no.
you’re look a little too nice for a normal hang out? well, guess what: you’re not going 🗣️
i wouldn’t be suprised if you also shared the family anger issues !!
outbursts (either his or yours) would lead to play fights, where you’d be on your back trying to kick him while he’s trying to jump on you and not get hit so he can put you in a headlock.
is SUPER competitive. like it’s actually a bit insane sometimes.
because you’re related to him he expects you to be great at everything—so during any game you play (card game, board game, etc) he wants you to win. but he will beat your ass if you do you actually end up winning against him.
ITS VERY CONFUSING !!
like, he wants you to win… unless it’s to him. and he will most definitely brag for the next month whenever he does beat you in any sort of game or competition.
is one of those older siblings who swears a bunch, all day, every day. but if YOU swear? nope nope nope. he will immediately snitch and look at you like you’ve just disgraced the whole family line. (me core !)
shadows boxes you 24/7. idk, i just feel like he’d do that. he’s like an annoying fly buzzing in your ear.
ANYWAYS!! TO THE QUIRK HCS!!
when you got your quirk he was like a proud dad. y’know that smug tiktok emoji or whatever? that was his face.
he was super excited that you weren’t (and i quote) a ‘quirkless loser’.
you probably pranked him a lot when you were young—turning into your parents or a random hero just to scare him.
the two of you also probably pranked other kids by turning into random pro heroes or some shit 😭 idk i just thought that would be super funny.
when he got into UA, he forced you to train with him and would sometimes make you shapeshift into someone he hated (*cough* deku *cough*) for motivation.
because you’re his younger sibling, of course you’re gonna mock him. so whenever he’d piss you off, you’d turn into him and start saying random shit like: “i love deku! he’s my hero!” or “i’m so angry all the time and have no friends *cue you acting all pouting and sulky*.”
that would always really piss him off. like he’d start exploding your shit.
basically you’re very chaotic and use your quirk to your advantage against him !! and honestly? i respect the grind 🫡
UHMM IDK WHAT ELSE TO ADD… SO BYEBYE MWAH MWAH ♡
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