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eternaldecisions · 1 month

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˙ . ꒷ introducing slytherin!matt . 𖦹˙—

slytherin ! matt has put you in a spiral about him.

His name was all around Hogwarts, for what reason? not even god knows, how does a person quickly appears in the magic school and gets everyone in a spiral about him?

was because he was a slytherin guy, the tough facade ready to be shown to everyone?

"I swear, I can't stand that guy anymore. What is it with him? Girls are practically falling at his feet," Sarah sighs, exasperated. She has a point—he's just another typical Slytherin, all charm and no substance. Everything about him screams ordinary, a textbook example of the same old story.

oh but as he came across as a pretty standard guy, there was something undeniably captivating about him. His charm was woven into the intricate tattoos that adorned his sleeve, and the vintage rings that graced his long, slender fingers that sat on his index and pinky fingers, their placement almost suggestive of a hidden secret, adding a touch of mystery to his persona.

just as you're about to respond to the blondie, the crunch of footsteps on dead leaves catches your attention. The sound grows closer, and you instinctively turn around, already knowing who it would be.

Matt.

his brown hair falls effortlessly over his eyes, lips slightly swollen and tinged with a rosy hue. Clearly, he’d already had his morning indulgence with a girl, and it was only 9:24 a.m.

"Who are you?" his question lingers in the air, but the words are barely a whisper, more a shiver of breath than a voice. You his presence behind you, heavy and silent, like the weight of a shadow cast by something unseen. The wooden bench beneath you creaks softly, protesting under the tension that has suddenly thickened the night.

Matt’s cold hand grazes the back of your neck, the touch icy and unnatural, as if the chill of a winter's night had come alive and reached out to you. It’s more than just a sensation. The shiver it sends down your spine is almost electric, each nerve ending tingling in alarm.

then, you feel it—cold, and metallic rings pressed against your skin. The object, smooth and unforgiving, clings to your neck like a phantom chain, tightening ever so slightly as if testing your pulse. You dare not move. The air around you thickens, as if the shadows itself is watching.

"Who are you?" you retort back, spinning around as you rise from the bench. Your voice cuts through the tension like a knife, defiant and sharp. His hand, once that was cold against your neck, is now tucked under his crossed arms as he steps closer, his posture exuding an arrogant confidence that only fuels your irritation.

"Sweetheart, I thought you knew me already," Matt chuckles, the sound laced with a smugness that grates on your nerves. Behind him, his group echoes his laughter, their loyalty to him as blind as puppies trailing around their master.

his hand finds its way to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His touch is gentle, almost tender, but there's a control in it that makes your skin crawl. You resist the urge to pull away, holding his gaze with a defiance that you know he wasn’t expecting.

"What do you want?" you sigh, your gaze locked on his icy blue eyes. They're the kind of eyes that seem to pierce through you, cold and calculating, even as his lips part in a sly grin. You catch the faint scent of the mint of the bubblegum he’s chewing, the freshness oddly out of place in this tense moment.

"You’re new here, can’t I see you?” he laughs, the sound casual, almost playful, but there's an edge to it that keeps you on guard. His hand releases your chin, retreating back to his crossed arms as he continues to study you, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

his gaze shifts, and he nods towards the bench where your best friend, Sarah, sits watching the exchange. "Is that your friend?" he asks, pointing her out. Sarah's blonde hair catches the sun light, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. She’s sitting in the bench where you were a moment ago.

you nod, trying to avoid his gaze, but it’s harder than you expected. Your eyes drift to the leaves scattered on the ground, their rustling the only sound that fills the silence between you. He notices, of course. A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth as he leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.

"I don’t bite.” he coos softly in your ear, the warmth of his breath contrasting sharply with the chill he leaves behind. He pulls back, that smug grin still plastered on his face, before turning away. He leads his group away, their laughter echoing faintly as they disappear into the distance.

you’re left standing there, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and frustration, your heart pounding louder than you’d like to admit. They weren’t wrong when they said Matt was quite the charmer.

the lunch break passes in a blur, leaving you feeling like time slipped through your fingers too quickly. Now, you find yourself in Sybill Trelawney’s class, the room thick with the drowsy energy of students on the verge of sleep. The dim lighting and Trelawney’s droning voice only make it harder to keep your eyes open, each blink lasting a little longer than the last.

you fight to stay awake, forcing your gaze to wander around the room. It’s then that you spot Matt in the back of the class, his attention clearly not on the lesson. He’s chatting quietly with Colby, another Slytherin, while fidgeting with a pencil between his index and middle fingers. The movement is effortless, almost mesmerizing, and before you realize it, your thoughts start to drift. Imagination takes over, creating scenarios that you quickly push away, knowing they’re nothing more than fleeting fantasies.

but then you snap back to reality, realizing you’ve been staring for too long. Your gaze meets Matt’s, and he’s looking right back at you. There’s no smirk, no knowing grin—just a neutral expression, as if he’s caught you in a moment you wish you could take back. Your heart skips a beat, the awkwardness hanging in the air between you, and you quickly look away, pretending to be interested in the lesson. But the moment lingers, a silent connection that leaves you wondering what he’s really thinking.

Matt chuckles to himself, his eyes flicking toward you as he continues to study your face from the corner of his eye. He’s taking in every detail, memorizing your features, almost as if he’s trying to figure you out. But then, with a scoff, he looks away, as if dismissing whatever thoughts had crossed his mind.

the bell rings, a sharp sound that jolts you from your thoughts. You scramble to gather your things, hoping to make a quick exit and avoid another encounter with Matt. But fate, it seems, has other plans. As you hurry towards the door, you bump straight into him. The impact is sudden, and your heart sinks when you see that familiar smirk curling on his lips.

before you can even react, Matt’s hand reaches up, his thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth. You freeze as he wipes away a smudge of lip liner with a cold, deliberate touch that sends a shiver down your spine.

"You’re quite the starer," he murmurs, his grin widening as he pulls his hand back, leaving your skin tingling in the aftermath. You open your mouth to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

"Don’t worry," he adds, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I won’t embarrass you in front of everyone by telling that you stare at people more than you should." He lets out a brief laugh, the sound echoing in your ears as he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with a mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite name.

and as you watch him go, you know that this is just the beginning.

taglist: @fawnchives @pearlzier @et6rnalsun @mattscoquette @mattsbrowser @carvedtits @sirenedeslily @mattslolita @flouvela @jetaimevous @archiebabiesworld @bella-loveschris @lovingregulusblack

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anjanahalo · 5 months

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Potential DPxDC Prompt x3

In between their graduation from high school and the start of their college careers, Tucker and Danny collaborate on a small podcast where they mostly chitchatted about various topics from "Is a hotdog a sandwich?" to "Why the Justice League sucks." That last one upped their viewership, but most of that died off when the next three episodes were titled "The Best Eats in Nowhere, Illinois," where they trolled through Elmerton and Amity Park for the various chain and local restaurants, eating at and rating them with a very qualitative, subjective, and nonsensical scale, until they get to the Nasty Burger. The Nasty Burger gets an episode all to itself, describing the lore of how the "T" in the original "Tasty" fell off, the sign got tagged with an "N," and how, after it took years for the owners to fix the sign, they officially renamed the place "The Nasty Burger" because that's what everyone called it, even changing the menu and marketing that had stubbornly stuck to Tasty Burger all those years. (Tucker shows off his vintage Tasty Burger shirt as a flex of his loyalty). They order and eat every food item in one sitting (even the vegan ones), and rate Nasty Burger 20/10, the best local burger place you can find. After the drop off that came from reviewing places like "The Lucky Sombrero Irish Pub and Taquería," they didn't expect the clapback they got from the most unexpected place: Gotham, New Jersey. A small but very robust group of Gothamites were calling bullshit on the review, daring them to come to Gotham for their own local burger chain, The Batburger. Tucker and Danny sense a great challenge and a new episode idea, and Sam agrees to fund the trip when they declare the vegan options at the Batburger were far superior ("I funeded the separate grill myself at Nasty! Bet they cook their bean burgers in beef grease.") Of course, she's also coming along. So Tucker, Sam, and Danny hit the road with a teaser that they're taking up the challenge and coming to Gotham, and they'd be proving these uppity commentators WRONG. Meanwhile, The Batclan are a bit shocked to realize that their comments actually motivated the hosts of one of their favorite dumb podcasts, which appeared on their radar after the "JL sucks" episode, to visit Gotham. Wouldn't it be hilarious if they tracked them down and got to see their reactions in person?

#dpxdc #dp x dc #They're planning to visit every Batburger too. Which is only like four or five throughout Gotham with one in Metropolis.#Sam vows to verify if the vegan and vegetarian options are ACTUALLY following protocol or #if they're just frying them up on the same grill as flesh #Tucker vows to try every item on the menu and compare it to the Nasty Burger equivalent. He's developed a very comprehensive scoring sheet #for the occasion #Danny heard they had special toys. He's getting every single one and using them for his stop motion animations channel #(it's a much easier task when you bribe the Master of Time with fudge to “fudge” the passage of time somewhat)

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overgrown-estate · 14 days

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Hello All. Say hello to Arabella and her Dollhouse. It's chock full of friends.

Arabella is what many would call a vintage porcelain doll. She doesn't like the word 'antique'. She's recently acquired a new home and can't wait to invite her friends over. Arabella enjoys inflicting damage and the more friends around, the more damage she does, and the more merrier you will be for certain. Why don't we meet some friends of hers, shall we?

The one thing you should know about Duskmourn is that white mana is hard to come by around these parts... which is 'everywhere', if you haven't guessed already. So when you find it, you better scoop it up as soon as you can. White mana tends to be a 'bit off' at times. That's why it's so much better when placed in smaller vessels. And I'm not talking about Glimmers, such wretched things.

Now, red mana is plentiful throughout the House, as I'm sure you've surmised. It's one of those things that seems to pour off the great molting moth. He attracted much of it once the Ascension occurred. Anyway, red provides speed to some of Arabella's friends. Along with other perks. You'll see.

That little babydoll head gets around pretty well. It's damn near unbreakable and it can get big fast. Kind of like Jackie boy there. He's one of Arabella's favorite helpers. He just needs to keep his cool until he's needed the most.

Duskmourn being what it is, Guests to the House tend to bring their own toys with them and tend to lose them just as quickly. I had no idea there were such things outside the House. It's always fun to peruse the bins. I mean, I thought the little skitterspike was tough. Some of these toys are downright indestructible. That scarecrow, though, its owner called it a doll. The thing is no bigger than a dried cornstalk, but the lady of the dollhouse has taken a liking to it just the same.

These three beauties here are excellent at providing Arabella with just the boost she needs at one of her 'tea parties'. Quick with answers to her questions and a nice comeback kick, too.

Arabella's keeping an eye on these first two. She doesn't really trust puppets. Who knows who've been pulling their strings, am I right? Like that boy puppet. He's got the smell of a survivor. It's a stench that just won't go away. And that other one. We can't get a good read off of him, like even he doesn't know where his loyalties lie. The Toymaker, though. Arabella wants him protected. He brings things to life that weren't ever alive to begin with.

What about others? That's not enough to have over for a 'tea party'? The rest of the guest list is up to you. We have other things to see.

Arabella called on you because she likes holding these parties. That dollhouse of hers will keep the guests coming back... at least for a little while. And of course, there will be guests who 'lost' or 'forgot' their invitation. And then there are those that you just want to keep coming back. Of course, these things here are just until Arabella can get her hands on a display cabinet, you know. Then everyone can see who's been invited to the best shindig this side of the basement.

Like that Glass Casket. The Lady of the Dollhouse goes all out even when capturing those pesky party crashers. But she pays them no mind anyway. Those puppets from earlier? She's kept their strings. It helps that she can use them on anyone. Finally, there's that lifeless voodoo doll. It's probably the oldest thing here but still very useful.

Arabella does prefer that which is like her, but she will use magic in a pinch. There are so many spells to choose from. I heard somewhere beyond Duskmourn is a library that holds every spell imaginable. But remember, the Lady of the Dollhouse prefers things that are toy-ish?

Go on now, I'm sure you can manage a simple party, now can't you?

#mtg #magic the gathering #duskmourn #house of horror #arabella #abandoned toys #misfit toys #demonic toys #modern horror #this is like something out of a fever dream #i've never done something like this before #it was fun and crazy and i hope you like it #show me what you come up with #hail valgavoth #fantasy card game #wotc #wizards of the coast

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chaos-bites · 2 months

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ah, sigyn! if you have any tips on how to begin worship, i’d love to know, as i’ve been wanting to honor her for a while.

Hey, Nonny!

For me, I began worshipping her after Loki introduced us. It was incredibly difficult to find information on her, unfortunately. I ended up pulling most of my knowledge from the myths and what little else I could find on modern worship. I had found some interesting accounts of modern worship in localized Scandinavian communities, but I can't remember where I found that source. 💀

When reaching out to her, I'd say just be yourself and be respectful, as you would with any deity. Personally, I got her a flower-scented candle, carved her name into the wax, lit some sweet-smelling incense, and lit the candle. I've heard from another Sigyn worship that you can do a ritual where you "hold the bowl" for her, so to speak. This is done by filling a bowl with water and holding it in your hands at her altar for however long you'd like. In this way, it was explained to me that you're holding the bowl of serpent venom for her to give her a break from tending to Loki. I don't personally believe in the myths in a literal sense, but I think the thought that goes into this ritual is what matters.

I suggest reaching out to @broomsick or @notthesomefather for more information; they both have some great resources on Norse deities, although I'm unsure if they know much about Sigyn either. I know Broom in particular is huge on learning about the historical worship of the Norse deities, so I wouldn't be surprised if they have at least something for you. c:

In regards to my personal associations with Sigyn, I'd be happy to share them, but be aware that they're mostly UPG based. Here are some things I associate with her:

Wolves (for her sons, Váli and Narfi); I usually depict them in wholesome, cute, or kind ways

Serpents (I don't usually give offerings related to them, though, due to their negative role in her myth)

Otters, orcas, polar bears/grizzly bears, reindeer/deer, and sometimes moths; most I associate due to their strong familial bonds and pack/herd nature

Bowls, especially ones with beautiful designs

Intricately designed plates, especially those that tell a story or are vintage

Her name is believed to mean "Friend of Victory", "Victory Friend", or something similar to the two; I therefore associate her strongly with victory and overcoming challenges

Family, familial love, loyalty, devotion, resilience, persistence, dedication, inner strength, compassion, caregiving, patience, and fidelity ← domains I associate with her

Light-colored flowers and plants

The colors light pink, gold, yellow light blue, and earthy shades of green and brown

Objects crafted out of love for another person or creature (drawings, wood carvings, crocheted works, etc.)

Family heirlooms, especially those passed down from a maternal figure

Childhood toys, stuffed animals, comfort items, etc. (bonus points if you tell her the stories behind them and why you loved them so much)

Poetry written for or about her, art made of or about her

Defensive weapons; a wolf may not attack humans often, but it still has teeth and claws if needed (protection of loved ones is my reasoning here)

Honey, herbal teas, warmed pastries, warmed breads, soups, and childhood comfort foods

It's not a big list of things, and like I said, it's mostly UPG, but I hope it helps. Take care, and I wish you the best, Nonny! 💚🖤

#sigyn deity #norse paganism #norse pagan #norse heathenry

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bonesofapoet · 1 month

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Fenris cannot begin to imagine how it would feel to betray you.

He thinks about the possibility sometimes, during the sleepless nights he spends among the ruins of his old life. The pull of his anger seems fueled by the ghost of Danarius, haunting him through old journals written in his hand, or aging books he finds with his old master's scrawl pressed into the margins. A house crest on an old tunic here, an heirloom Tevinter antique there. The memories are not so loud now, so fresh, but they still scratch and scream and loom with every dull ache from the lyrium kissing his skin, even if its only in his subconscious.

And yet, his ire is projected onto you, in the silent moments. He knows better than to dwell on them, knows that you of all people will be by his side to the bitter end. It was, after all, you who took his hand and kissed the ache away from his knuckles on the eve of Danarius's final demise. You, who took up his cause alongside yours, without a question, without hesitation, without a doubt. You, in all your graceful, graceless beauty extending your hand to him again and again and again, never once wavering in welcoming him into your little chaotic family.

He recalls how he has fearlessly died for you, without a hesitant thought of his own. How he's carried you home and dressed your wounds after excruciatingly rough nights when the weight of the world rests oh, so heavy on your shoulders. He does this, without even wondering why he stays until you fall asleep, a book cradled in his bruised hands by the fire. Fenris, who is wary of your friendship with Anders, worry settling deep into his bones that one day you'll live to regret the kindness you extend to him on faith and grace alone - when the Abomination gives you nothing but half truths and the promise that you're far better off not knowing the extent of his heart.

And yet, he is no fool blinded by heartache and this new feeling of steadfast loyalty. He has to choke down a pull from an old vintage bottle hidden in the depths of the wine cellar as he realizes - and not for the first time- that even with his deepening disdain for magic and apostates and Magisters, he could never imagine smashing all he has built here to pieces.

This is home, now, whether he fully realizes it or not. You are his home, in all your stubbornness and your passive aggressive optimism that maybe - by some miracle of any kind - this battle could end in anything other than bloodshed. It's in these moments especially, that Fenris begins to wonder if it's not you, truly, who he blames - but himself, at the root of it all. He, who has sworn to protect not only himself, but others from the wrath of magic used in unholy ways.

And then, of course, he comes to Kirkwall and falls in love with someone who wishes to help the Circle instead of hinder it.

He comes to this conclusion as he's greeted by the bottom of the bottle and a swift knock on the weathered front door of his estate. And, quick as they come, all those thoughts slither away back to their shadows as you enter. The door clicks closed behind you, and Fenris simply stops. Stares. Almost drops the bottle hanging loose and precarious from his fingertips. Moonlight shines down into the foyer through filthy, filmy windows, illuminating your silhouette in a glowing halo of silver divinity. It's a sight he's seen a thousand times, yet he's always knocked breathless by the beauty radiating from you eternally, incandescently. Especially when you're fighting side by side, covered in unmentionable ruin.

His name falls through your lips, soft and gentle and kind as you meet him where he stands in the middle of the room. His eyes immediately soften and his posture relaxes the closer you come to touching him. He reaches for you on instinct, palm coming to graze your cheek in a gentle caress, with a heart bound to beat right out of his chest. The sting of aged wine is long forgotten. Thoughts of treachery and betrayal are distant memories from a lifetime ago. It's nothing he'll ever consider again, he thinks, because how could he when you're so impossibly bewitched with one another?

#fenris #dragon age #fenris x hawke #fenris dragon age #da2 #dragon age 2 #fenris da2 #Maker I love a good angsty relationship between ppl with opposing viewpoints #The dynamic between mage supporter Hawke and Fenris seNDS ME #the TENSION. THE RIVALRY even if you gain his friendship #Drives me absolutely feral #kas writes

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mynameistocool · 3 months

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-Ask and you will receive-

Richie Jerimovich x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, a gun, suicide, and Richie being a duck but that’s not really new.

Assistance - Chapter 1

The worn bell above the door of The original Beef of Chicagoland jangled, its chime as tired and weary as the shop itself. You, age 28, stood behind the counter, wiping down the laminate surface with a well-used rag. The sandwich shop, nestled in the heart of Chicago's West Side, had seen better days. Its once-bright sign now faded and chipped, much like your own dreams that had dulled over the years.

Born and raised in Chicago, you are a product of the city's gritty charm and resilient spirit. You grew up in a modest apartment a few blocks away with your Pa, where the scent of freshly baked bread from the shop had been a constant in your childhood. Your parents, hard-working and loving, had instilled in you a sense of duty and loyalty that you now applied to your job, though it was not the life you had imagined for herself. At 20, fresh out of high school and full of ambition,You had taken a job at the small sandwich shop as a busser to save up for college. The plan was to stay just a year or two, but life had other ideas. Family responsibilities, financial setbacks, and the comfort of familiarity had somehow kept you there, cleaning table and dishes to then serving sandwiches and smiles to a loyal yet dwindling customer base.

The small sandwich shop had become a second home, it’s dented metal chairs and scuffed linoleum floors as familiar as your own living room. The small, cluttered kitchen where you prepared orders was a place where you could almost move with your eyes closed. The regulars, a mix of blue-collar workers and neighborhood eccentrics, often greeted you with the warmth of old friends. To them, you weren’t just an employee; you were, the girl who knew their orders by heart and listened to their stories with genuine interest. That was four months ago before the owner Micheal or Mikey Berzatto as everyone called him blew his fucking brains out in the crack of night. He was a good man.

And each day, as you wrapped sandwiches in wax paper and rang up sales on the ancient cash register, you couldn't help but wonder what your life might have been like had you taken a different path or if Mikey had not died.

The shop’s worn walls, covered in vintage posters and faded photos, whispered tales of its heyday, a stark contrast to its current state. The overhead lights flickered occasionally, casting fleeting shadows that danced across your tired yet hopeful face. You sighed, pushing an escaped strand of hair behind your ear, and glanced at the clock. You moved with practiced efficiency, slicing tomatoes and arranging fresh lettuce with a precision born of years of repetition. The prep work was a familiar routine, a symphony of motions you performed without conscious thought.

"C'mon, guys, we open in twenty! Let's get it together!" Carmy bellowed from his station at the front of the kitchen. Carmy, the young head chef and now owner, had taken over the shop after his brother Mikey's untimely death. His relentless drive carried the weight of a legacy he was determined to honor. His voice, sharp and urgent, echoed through the room, a reminder of the high standards he upheld.

You glanced over at Marcus, a young man with a bright smile and an infectious enthusiasm. He was busy kneading dough, his hands a blur of motion as he worked on the bread and pastries. Flour dusted his apron giving him the look of a snow-dusted sculpture. He caught your eye and flashed a grin, the kind that made the morning rush a bit more bearable. Ebra, the oldest among them, was meticulously slicing meats with the care of a surgeon. His years of experience showed in the way he handled the knife, each cut precise and perfect. You had learned a lot from Ebra, his quiet wisdom a steadying force in the chaotic kitchen. "Tina, how are those potatoes coming?" Carmy called out, his sharp eyes scanning the room. "Almost done, Jeff !" Tina replied, her hands deftly chopping peppers and onions. She moved with a grace that belied her tough exterior, a no-nonsense woman who kept the team in line with a well-timed glare or a sarcastic comment.

You focused on your task, your hands moving automatically as you prepped for the day. Despite the clamor and chaos, there was a rhythm to the kitchen, a dance they all knew well. It was in these moments, surrounded by you “makeshift family”, that you felt a strange sense of small peace, even if just for a fleeting second. "you got those tomatoes ready?" Carmy's voice snapped you back to reality. "Almost there," you replied, picking up the pace. You knew the drill: speed and precision were the order of the day. The customers would soon be lining up, and everything had to be perfect.

“Behind, behind, behind.” A quiet and new voice could be heard from behind you making your head quickly turn your hands still sliding the chopped vegetables into the small plastic tub. “Who are you ?.” You take note of the new woman your head bobbing up waiting for a response.

“Sydney.” She quickly replied with small smile and you introduced yourself back out of respect and kindness you were new once you know how much of a ball-ache these people are turning back to your work quickly moving along but you did mange to catch Sydney chasing after Tina who only spoke Spanish to her the interaction making smile. “Corner !” And then it quickly disappeared at that voice.

The kitchen door swung open, and Richie strolled in, tall and lean with a buzz cut. At 37, Richie was an enigmatic mix of charm and grit, his presence both a comfort and a complication. He and Carmy were close, calling each other "cousin" though they weren't actually related. Their bond was one forged in shared history and mutual respect.

"Yo, family morning ," Richie called out walking round a fretting every person with a friendly smile and hug apart from you. “Fucking with my program cousin.” He called out to Carmy, who just mumbled back and short answer “program started four hours ago.” barely looking up from his prep station. “Yeah well I had the kid all morning excuse me.” Richie turned meeting Carmy heads half way up “listen what’s happening with Ballbreaker my insta fucking blowing up.” Richie spoke “you got like thirty followers.” Marcus added turning away “yeah, I got… what is that a diss ? Yeah I got thirty six followers you fucking jackass.” Richie bit back his laugh echoing through the kitchen joined by Marcus’s.

“We need business, nerds come in from Rockford to play.” Carmy responded making his way round others “yeah in 1987 when you were still in that deadbeats balls.” Richie reached out for Tina who was reaching up to kiss his cheek “how are you ?” Richie switched to her other cheek leaving a quick kiss “yeah how was the recital ?” She asked meaning Richie daughter “oh god ! She fucking murdered it Tina. Hold on…” Richie quickly followed Carmy moving figure.

Your jaw tightened at the sight of Richie. To put it simple your relationship was a constant friction, sparks flying whenever you two were in the same room. You didn't appreciate his laid-back attitude and constant aggression/ hostility and he found your seriousness grating. You both had mutual dislike which was a poorly kept secret in the small, bustling kitchen.

"You got those preps ready?" Carmy asked sliding past you. “Like I said almost there," you replied, picking up the pace even more. Richie ambled over to the counter, eyeing your work. "You sure those tomatoes are fresh ? They look a little tired, like someone I know." You shot him a withering look. "Just worry about your own shit, Richard. I'll handle mine." Carmy intervened before the exchange could escalate. "Alright, enough. We've got a busy day ahead. Let's focus." You moved along stepping in-front of Carmy and Richie making your way to the walk in the pair of men following you close behind.

“Scuse me.” You slid past Sydney reaching up for the fresh parsnips. “Whoa who the fuck is this ?” That grating voice came again. “Sydney.” You quickly spoke going onto your tip toes. Who the fuck put veg this high ? “this is Sydney. I’m staging today.” The young woman spoke up for herself “Your what-ing today ?” Richie asked his voice confused as he looked between Carmy and her “she staging you dipshit she just fucking said.” You sneered still trying to reach for the veg “At-least I can reach the fucking veg.” Richie hissed back watching the twenty eight year old struggle. “She’s helping us out today.” Carmy intervened “can I use these Bananas ?” Sydney held up the fruit waiting for Carmys approval “cousin you order different mayo ?” Richie asked “no. all you chef.” Carmy responded to Sydney ignoring Richie “yeah all you chef.” Richie spoke up standing tall by the entrance as he threw his hands in the air. “He was using them to make a giant nut muffin.” You rolled her eyes at the comment. What a fucking idiot. “It was a play on a panettone. It would have been beautiful if you’d let me finish it.” Camry quickly defended himself “oh cousin.” Richie smacked his back making Carmy drop some stuff “Fuck you !” He shouted out.

“Richie Jeremovich. Pleasure to meet you sweetheart.” He held out his hand to Sydney who just shook his hand awkwardly “oh Richie really ?” You nearly threw up in your mouth at his sweet words “don’t say sweetheart you fucking wierdo.” Carmy made the same expression as you as he stood between the pair grabbing some more ingredients. “Oh sorry you guys are so woke.” Richie threw his head in air “I meant nothing by it Sydney saying sweetheart is just part of our Italian heritage.” He held his hands up following Sydney as she left the walk in. “That beautiful. Thank you.” She walked away back into the bustling kitchen. “Italian ? I have more fucking Italian in me than you” you walked past him out the walk in “I bet you have.” Richie threw his head up “what the fuck is that meant to mean ?” You turned around staring at the man “you know what it means.” He shrugged his shoulders “you’re a fucking dick.” You spat “we know.” He shrugs once more “Fuck off Richard.” You walk away not in the mood to deal with him “don’t use’s that fucking name.” He held his hand high as you left.

You quickly finished the last of your prep and started organising the ingredients into their designated stations. Ebra, with his usual meticulous care, was laying out the meats in perfect rows, each slice almost a work of art. Tina, now done with the other vegetables while Marcus was pulling out bread. After few loud shouts and bangs from the walk in walked out stopping infront of the spice rack well shelf he was trying to distract himself and by your guess make it look like he was actually doing something for fucking once. His tall frame was making quick work of the high shelves. Searching through the changed inventory his face showing his pissed off emotions more and more as his eyes searched the area.

Maria started cleaning the tops placing the fresh prepared sliced veg near Tina finishing in two minutes flat she made her way round the kitchen for search off any other messes she’d have to fucking clean.

“Was richie always an arsehole ?” Marcus asked Fak as he fiddled with bolts on the mixer “always and forever dude.” Fak turned hearing your footsteps checking it wasn’t the man of hour Richie “just ask her.” Marcus looked to you “I ain’t saying shit about him.” And right you were as Fak began running his mouth again Richie approached “he the worst he’s not a nice guy. He’s just sad inside.” The words left his mouth and the tattooed man felt his presence behind “Fak.” Richie sent a warning look his way before turning to you his brows furrowed to which you just shrugged like he did earlier.

“Yo Family’s up.” Sydney called from the other room and everyone flooded through ready to taste the chefs food. As soon as you walked in the smell hit and fuck it was a delicious smell quickly making your way over to a seat grabbing the small pots Sydney had prepared “this look’s good Sydney.” You smiled at the young woman. The rest of the team took their seats all digging into the prepared meal “alright I’ll start I’m grateful for Philip K Dick. Fak you’re up.” Richie spoke his mouth full. Fucking disgusting. “Me ? Ahhh I’m thankful for my cats Ralph.” Fak sputtered out not expecting him to be included “they both named Ralph ?” Tina tilted her head in a questioning manner. “Yeah it’s just like it’s easier that way.” Ralph explained himself making Tina laugh “alright Tina you’re up.” Richie ushered the attention to the older woman sat at the corner of the table. “I’m grateful for all you.” She flung one hand up before dipping her head down with a warming smile making table erupt in awes and coos “awww look at you softy.” Richie tease over the table. “I guess I’m grateful that Richie didn’t come in here wearing that cologne that he always be wearing you know that smell like a pine tree and shit.” Marcus added his two pence into the lineup making the whole table laugh “Y/N ?” Tina addressed you “ummm I’m grateful for… fuck.” You tried to think “you’re grateful for fuck ?” Richie raised his brows “no you arsehole i am grateful for being here in this sandwich shop with all you fuckers.” You mumbled out digging into your bowl and the table laughed “and for not having knife on me to stab Richard.” You quickly added having more laughs out the table and a jack off gesture from the man himself.

You were too spaced out eating your meal with the chattering background that eased your worries away to realise Carmy had gone outside to deal with the growing crowd or more likely mob of nerds. It wasn’t until Richie scraped his chair across the floor that your attention had came back to present the tall man quickly got up and left marching to the kitchen and you followed already knowing his procedure to dealing with these things.

“what the fuck are you doing ?” You asked following the man making him turn to give you one quick look “what the fuck are you doing ?” He repeated your question annunciating the you “seriously ?” You watched as he searched the kitchen “yes seriously.” He quickly pulled open a pot digging through and grabbing his gun “oh what the fuck.” You threw your hands in the air “shut up.” He held it in his tight grip walking past you. “You gonna shoot them Richard ?” You followed after him again. “Didn’t I tell you to fucking stop with that.” He abruptly stopped making your body smack into his the gun held closer to your face “now fuck off.” He marched outside holding the gun high as he fired one shot nodding his head.

“Merry Christmas lizards.” Richie shouted through the microphone he continued his little speech warning them all of the consequences if they did not follow his rules before bidding them goodbye with one last “fuck you” and ushering Carmy into the shop. The pair argued and it didn’t stop till Richie shoved the tins of spaghetti in Carmy arms “Sydney sorry about the gun babe I had to get real.” He offered a short apology to the new chef walking towards you putting the gun down his stupid spots pants you who still stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining space and before you could even open your mouth and shoot a insult or snide remark his way Richie was very close to your face his long finger which were connected to those large hands of his stunk of tobacco and vanilla “not a fucking word out of you.” You looked to him his face so very very close to yours as his brows furrowed and eyes stared down his large body towering over your and this time you did not push it but instead just waited for him to march away in his hissy fit and flip him off.

#the bear season 2 #the bear season one #the bear #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #carmy berzatto #mikey berzatto #sydney adamu

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