#probably could've split it into two actually but oh well

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Twenty-Two: Threshold

Chapter WC: 12,753

Chapter Warnings: drama lite, alcohol use

A/N: Posting this chapter early before I disappear for a bit! Next chapter will probably be out after Christmas. Sorry in advance for the ending 🙈

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Coruscant, 21 BBY

"Hey! You're alive!" Ahsoka says as she rushes towards you. 

You barely step out of your room before she tackles you, the force of her embrace knocking the wind out of you. You stumble backwards and hit the wall, the breath leaving your lungs in a rush as her arms wrap around your neck. You gasp for air and try to shove her away, but her grip is firm, and you're forced to wait until she decides to release you.

"Missed you, too," you manage to choke out.

She laughs and pulls away, her hands landing on your shoulders, her face inches from yours. Her eyes scan you, taking in every inch, every detail.

"Why didn't you comm? I thought something happened to you," she scolds, and she finally releases you, her arms falling to her sides. "Master Kenobi said you were fine, but he wouldn't tell me anything. Said it wasn't his place. So, what's going on?"

"Um," you start. You aren't sure how much Anakin's told her, or Obi-Wan, if they've told her anything at all, and you hesitate, unsure of how much to share. You don't want her to know the extent of your...difficulties. It's better that she doesn't. Besides, you're not really sure what to say.

"Are you okay?" she presses, her voice filled with concern. "What happened?"

"I'm fine. Really," you assure her, and her eyes narrow, clearly unconvinced. You sigh and shake your head. "Obi-Wan and I had a...fight. About me receiving my own command. He was worried about me, and it didn't go well. That's all."

"Why would he be worried about that?" Ahsoka asks, her tone curious. "Everyone knows you're a great fighter. The Council wouldn't have given you a brigade if they didn't think you could handle it."

"Yeah, well, Obi-Wan's a worrier," you say, and your stomach churns. It's not entirely a lie, but it's not completely true, either. "You know how he is."

"That's true," she admits. "He does like to fret. Especially about you."

"Yeah," you mutter, and a pang of guilt shoots through your chest. You shove it down, forcing yourself to move past it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or him. I was just...upset. I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay. We all get upset sometimes," she says, her voice softening. She smiles and shakes her head, her hands reaching out, grasping yours. "Glad you're back, though. I've missed having someone around here who doesn't talk in riddles all day."

"Thanks," you mutter, and you manage a weak smile. Ahsoka's eyes narrow, and her fingers squeeze yours, her grip tightening.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you say quickly. "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep very well last night."

"You seem...different. Than when you left." She glances away, and her voice drops. "Something happened, didn't it?"

"A lot of things happened," you say dryly.

"Something big," Ahsoka presses. She looks back, her eyes meeting yours. "What is it?"

"Nothing," you say, but you know she won't believe it. You clear your throat and take a deep breath, straightening yourself. "We should talk about it. Later. Just...not right now. Okay?"

"Okay," she agrees reluctantly. Her eyes linger on you for a moment, and she squeezes your hand once more before releasing you. "Fine."

"Where's Anakin? I thought he was going to be here," you ask in a blatant attempt to change the subject. It works, and her expression lightens, her posture relaxing.

"He is. He's just late, as usual," she says, rolling her eyes. "He sent me to bring you to the hangar. And to make sure you don’t run away again. He's worried about you."

"Right," you sigh. You glance back into your room, checking to make sure you haven't forgotten anything, and you shut off the lights. Your room is in a better state this morning, but you’re still careful to block the doorway from Ashoka’s view. The last thing you need is her finding out about your mess. "Is Rex here, too?"

"Yeah," she replies. "He's waiting with Anakin. He seemed anxious, more than usual."

"I'll bet," you mutter, your hands flexing and unflexing at your sides. You've spent most of last night worrying about your meeting, wondering what it will be like, and you can feel a flutter in your chest, a knot forming in your stomach. You try to push back against it, but it doesn't go away.

"Come on," Ahsoka says. She reaches out and grabs your arm, tugging you towards the hallway. "We're gonna be late. If we're lucky, we might even beat Anakin."

"Let's hope," you chuckle.

Ahsoka laughs, and she turns, pulling you along. The two of you hurry through the temple, weaving through the corridors, passing the other Jedi as they go about their business. They ignore you, lost in their own thoughts, and you can't help but wonder how many of them have heard. How many of them know. If any of them do, they don't say anything. For once in your life, you’re grateful for their silence.

The further you walk, the greater your anxiety grows. The halls become emptier, more barren, and you can feel the tension building, your shoulders tensing. You're almost there. Almost to the hangar. Almost to Rex.

The last time you saw him, you had hugged him goodbye and promised you would update him on the Council meeting. He had given you a small smile and wished you luck, and then, he was gone. You haven't spoken since. You've spent a week apart, and in that time, everything has changed. Everything.

A part of you wants to turn back. To go home and crawl into bed and pretend like nothing happened. Pretend like this never happened. Pretend like you don't care. Pretend like you haven't been thinking about him, wondering what he's doing, how he's feeling. Pretend like you haven't been obsessing over every touch, replaying every word, every smile, over and over and over.

You can't do that.

"You alright?" Ahsoka asks. Her eyes meet yours, and her brows raise. "You look like you're going to throw up."

“Did he say anything?” you ask, and her head tilts to one side, her mouth scrunching.

"Anakin? About what?"

"No," you say, shaking your head. "Rex. Did he...say anything about me?"

"Not really," she says slowly. She's watching you, her expression thoughtful. "He asked where you were. Wanted to know if I'd heard from you. When I told him you were out of contact, he said, 'Oh,' and that was it. Why?"

"I...I don't know. Just, making sure," you mumble, and you can feel her eyes on you, burning holes in the side of your head. You keep moving, focusing on the path ahead, trying not to think about it. "I was just wondering."

"What's going on?" she presses. She comes to a sudden stop, forcing you to do the same as her hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist. "Wait. You're nervous."

"No, I'm not," you say quickly, and her eyebrows rise, a look of disbelief flashing across her face.

"Yes, you are," she argues. She tugs on your wrist, turning you towards her. She studies you, her gaze moving across your face, her mouth turning down. "I don't think I've ever seen you this nervous. Is there something I should know?"

"I'm not nervous," you protest. You try to free your arm from her grip, but her hold tightens, her fingers digging into your skin.

"Yes, you are," she presses. She leans in, her eyes narrowing.

"I'm not,” you snap.

"You are," she insists. "I can see it."

"Well, you're seeing things."

"Uh-huh," she says, her voice doubtful. Her mouth twists, and her fingers tighten around your wrist. "He’s been acting strange, too, you know. Ever since we got back. He kept checking his datapad, waiting for a message. Any time I ask, he says he's fine, and he shoves it back into his pocket. But, I've seen him staring at it."

Your mouth closes, and you bite your lip, unable to form a reply. Your stomach twists, and the fluttering sensation increases, spreading outward, until your whole body feels like it's vibrating. It would be easier to deny it, to play it off as nothing, but you can't find the words, and the silence that follows is deafening, a heavy weight falling over the both of you.

The two of you stand there, frozen in place, neither of you saying a word. After a moment, Ahsoka's grip loosens, and her fingers drop, her hands falling to her sides.

"Are you two—" she starts, but you cut her off, speaking over her.

"We should go. Anakin's waiting."

You pull away and move around her, continuing down the hall.

Ahsoka lets out a frustrated huff and runs after you, catching up within seconds. You're grateful for her shorter stride, and you can't help but speed up, hoping to outpace her. It's a futile effort, and she easily matches your pace, her feet matching yours step for step.

"So, there is something going on," she says. Her tone is accusatory, and her head whips towards you, her eyes widening. "There is! I knew it!"

"No, there's not," you argue. You pick up your pace, but she's faster, and she manages to stay right next to you. "There's nothing. Nothing. Okay?"

"You're lying," she accuses, and her lips twist, her head shaking. "I can't believe you. What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you repeat.

"Really?" she scoffs, and her voice is filled with skepticism. "Because, from where I'm standing, it looks a lot like something. It looks a lot like—"

"Like what?" you challenge, and you finally come to a stop, your gaze landing on her. You can feel your face flushing, and your jaw clenches, your mouth tightening. "Say it. Tell me. What is it?"

Ahsoka's mouth opens, and her lips move, trying to form a response. You watch her gaze flick around the empty hall, checking to see if anyone is around, before finally landing back on you. Her voice is lowered, her tone serious. "Are you two together? Is that what this is?"

"No," you reply, and you immediately wince. It comes out too fast, too quick, and you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax. You have to calm down. To control yourself. Otherwise, you're going to make things worse. Much, much worse. "No, we're not. We're not together. It's not like that."

"What is it like, then?" she asks.

"We're friends," you answer, and her eyebrow raises, a hint of amusement crossing her face. You glare at her, your voice rising. "We are. Really. That's all. There's nothing going on."

"Okay," she says, holding up her hands. "I believe you. I just...don't understand. He's acting really weird. And, so are you."

"I'm not acting weird," you protest. "I'm just nervous. About meeting my men."

"Okay," she says, her mouth turning down, a crease forming on her forehead. "Fine. If you say so."

You stare at her, taking in her skeptical expression, and you let out a sigh, shaking your head. "Listen. You know me. Do you honestly think I would be involved with him? With anyone? In a million years?"

Ahsoka thinks about it for a moment, and then shrugs, her expression shifting. "No. I guess not.”

“And Rex would never risk his position. Not like that. Not for anyone," you continue, and her lips purse, her eyes darting away. "He's not that kind of man."

"Right," she mutters.

"Right," you agree. You take a deep breath and exhale slowly, trying to release some of your tension. But your words don't help. If anything, they make things worse. The pit in your stomach deepens, and a wave of guilt washes over you. 

Because that's not entirely true. Rex is that kind of man. A good man. He would risk everything for someone he loved. For someone he cared about. And a part of you knows, without uncertainty or question, that he cares about you. He cares about you more than you care about yourself. More than he should. Much more than he should.

Rex has risked everything for you. More than once. He's risked his career, his reputation, his life. All for you. And he's done it without hesitation, without asking for anything in return. He's done it because he believes in you. Because he cares about you. He's put his trust in you, and he's supported you, and he's been by your side, every step of the way. Even when you didn't deserve it. Even when you weren't worthy of it.

And you shut him out. You pushed him away.

You've been so worried about what would happen, what everyone would say, what everyone would think, that you didn't stop to consider his feelings. Or yours.

You haven't stopped to consider what you want. Not really. What you want from him, from yourself, from this. Not once.

A sudden realization hits you.

This isn't fair. Not to either of you. You need to talk to him.

"Come on," Ahsoka says, her hand reaching out and grabbing yours. "Anakin's going to be furious if we're late."

You nod, and she pulls you forward, continuing down the hall. The two of you walk in silence, and the anxiety fades, replaced by a sense of determination. Your mind races, turning over every possible scenario, and you run through a list of ways to begin a conversation, discarding each one as soon as you think of it. By the time you reach the hangar, you've settled on the most basic approach, and you're mentally preparing yourself for whatever might happen next.

As soon as your eyes land on Rex, though, all thoughts disappear.

His back is to you, and he's standing with Anakin, talking about something, their voices low. They're facing one of the gunships getting ready to take off, and Anakin is gesturing, his arm waving back and forth, his expression animated. It's obvious that he's telling a story, and Rex is listening, his attention focused entirely on Anakin's face, nodding along to whatever it is that he's saying.

The sight sends a pang of longing through your chest, and you pause, staring at the back of his head, watching the muscles of his neck flex and tense. The urge to run to him, wrap your arms around him, and bury your face in his neck is overwhelming, and your hands twitch at your sides, resisting the temptation.

It's been less than a week since you last saw him, but it feels like so much longer. Like an eternity.

And he's right there.

Anakin’s gaze shifts over Rex’s shoulder, and his eyes lock onto yours, a smirk forming on his lips. He turns to Rex and claps his arm as he leans in, his words too soft to hear. Rex suddenly tenses and snaps his head up, turning toward the door, his gaze searching the room until his eyes land on you.

Your stomach flips and a lump forms in your throat, and all of your carefully rehearsed speeches disappear, forgotten, lost to the ether. For a moment, neither of you move. Neither of you say anything. The two of you stare at each other, drinking in every detail, taking in every nuance. You can feel his relief as much as you can see it in the set of his shoulders and the curve of his mouth and the warmth in his eyes.

After what feels like an eternity, a small smile forms on his face, and Rex dips his head slightly in acknowledgement. "General."

"Captain," you respond automatically. The words are awkward and stiff. Formal. Too formal. You grimace and clear your throat before correcting yourself. "Rex."

"You're back," he says.

"I am," you nod. You take a few steps towards him, and the two of you continue staring at each other, the tension between the two of you increasing with each passing second. An awkward silence descends over the group as Rex continues to look at you with an intense gaze, and you shift your weight, the silence becoming almost unbearable until Anakin lets out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

"Well, this is fun," he says dryly as he looks between you. "Anyone else want to say something? Ahsoka?"

"Nope," she says, shaking her head. "I'm good."

“Great. Then, we can go," he announces, and he steps around Rex, heading towards one of the gunships. “Come on, Goldie. It's time to meet your men."

"You heard him. Let's go," Ahsoka says, nudging your arm.

"Right," you mutter, and you follow after her, your steps slow and measured. You glance over at Rex as he falls into step beside you. He's silent, his mouth turned down, and he keeps his eyes forward, his gaze straight ahead.

You want to speak. To tell him that you're sorry. To tell him that you missed him. To tell him how much you've thought about him. But, you can't. Not here. Not with Ahsoka and Anakin. So, you remain silent, your throat closing, a tightness forming in your chest.

It's going to be a long day.

The four of you climb aboard, and Anakin settles into his seat, leaning back, his feet propped up. Ahsoka plops down next to him, pulling out her datapad and tapping away. You take a seat across from them, and Rex sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. You suck in a sharp breath at the contact, and your heart leaps, a tingle running down your spine.

Rex glances at you, his eyes locking onto yours, and a wave of emotions hit you. Concern. Relief. Confusion. Frustration.

He's upset with you. He has every right to be.

But, he doesn't move away. He doesn't pull back.

His body remains still, pressed against yours, his thigh rubbing against your own.

And, even though it's wrong, and you shouldn't, even though Anakin and Ahsoka are sitting right there, even though everyone is watching, you lean into him slightly, savoring his touch.

He sighs, and his hand brushes your knee as he adjusts his position. It’s a brief touch, enough to be considered accidental, and he quickly pulls his hand away, placing it on his lap. His thumb rubs circles on his palm, and his fingers flex, stretching, and then relaxing, again and again.

You try to keep your attention on Anakin, listening as he continues his story. But it's impossible. Your eyes keep drifting to Rex, taking in every detail, every movement. Every twitch. Every shift.

After a few minutes, his hand drops to his side, landing on his leg. He stretches his arm out, and his fingers brush your hand, his knuckles grazing your skin.

You look at him out of the corner of your eye. He's still looking forward, his face expressionless.

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and closes around his. You give it a quick squeeze, and then, before he can react, you pull away.

You wait for a response. A signal. A sign. Something. Anything. But nothing comes.

The ride is short. Too short. Before you're ready, the ship is descending, the engine powering down as the landing gear touches down. The doors open, and Anakin and Ahsoka rush out, both eager to escape the tense atmosphere of the gunship.

Rex stands at the same time as you, but he waits until you're in front of him before moving towards the door. His hand lands on your lower back, guiding you, and a thrill shoots through your body, sending goosebumps up your spine. The unexpected touch nearly forces you to stumble when you step out of the ship, your boot hitting a raised portion of the gangway. You catch yourself, and Rex grabs your elbow, steadying you, his hand lingering for a moment before releasing you.

"You okay?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah," you mutter, and your eyes dart around, taking in the hangar. "I'm fine. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he murmurs, his tone flat. You glance at him, and his jaw is clenched, his mouth drawn into a thin line.

He's upset.

You can feel the tension between the two of you, and you can't tell if he's mad, or frustrated, or hurt, or what.

All you know is that it's your fault.

Rex moves forward, and you fall into step beside him, walking in silence. The air is cool and crisp, and it smells faintly of fuel, a pungent, acidic smell that hangs in the recycled air. The hangar is busy, full of clones rushing about, performing maintenance and loading supplies. There are gunships, shuttles, and dozens of fighter ships parked in neat rows, all waiting to be used. It's a sight you're still not used to, and the thought of soon having not just one, but three such ships at your disposal as soon as you reach Kamino is almost overwhelming.

Anakin leads the way, his long strides quickly bringing him to the end of the hangar, and Ahsoka is close behind, her head turning this way and that, taking in the activity. You follow, and Rex walks beside you, keeping his distance, his hands folded behind his back. The four of you wind through the hangar, weaving between groups of clones, all of them wearing their distinctive blue and white armor. A few nod or wave as the group passes by, their helmets tucked under their arms, but most ignore the Jedi and carry on with their work, focused on their tasks.

Once you're through the hangar doors and inside the main corridor, the crowds thin, and Rex slows, his hand reaching out to grasp your elbow. Anakin looks over his shoulder and nods, and he and Ahsoka keep moving, leaving the two of you alone in the empty hall.

You come to a stop and turn to face him, and his fingers slide down before falling away.

"General," Rex starts, his voice formal and stiff. His shoulders are squared, and his arms are locked at his sides. "It's good to see you again, sir. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your quarters."

Your brow furrows in confusion, but you try not to let it show. It's not your first time on the ship, far from it, and the walk to the quarters is one you've taken many times before. Still, you follow after him, matching his pace, keeping a small distance between the two of you.

As you walk, you steal small glances at him, taking in the way his hand is twitching, the way his fingers are drumming against his leg. You can tell he wants to say something as much as you do, and you try to think of a way to start the conversation, to break the ice, but nothing comes to mind, and the two of you remain quiet until Rex lets out a small sigh and clasps his hands behind his back.

"So," he says finally, his voice low. "I heard about your promotion. Congratulations."

You grimace and duck your head. "Thanks. It...wasn't what I expected."

"It rarely is," he agrees. He pauses and turns his head, meeting your gaze. His expression softens, his brow furrowing, and his tone turns gentle. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," you answer. You bite the inside of your cheek and look away, breaking eye contact. "It's fine."

"No," he says firmly. His voice is filled with frustration, and his hand shoots out, grabbing yours and squeezing tightly, pulling you to a stop. "I'm not asking about the damn promotion. I'm asking how you are."

Your heart skips, and you can't help but stare, caught off guard by his sudden change in demeanor. You open your mouth, about to reply, when a group of clones passes by, their footsteps echoing off the metal floors. Rex lets go of your hand and steps back, returning their salutes with a nod, and you do the same, your mind racing, your body frozen in place.

When the last clone passes, his hand moves to the small of your back, pressing against it as he guides you forward. His touch is firm, but gentle, and he keeps his pace slow, letting you set the speed, matching his steps to yours.

"You should've commed," he murmurs.

"I know," you mumble. Your throat is tight, and you swallow, forcing yourself to continue. "I'm sorry. I should have. I know."

"What happened?" he asks, barely audible. His eyes scan the empty hall, making sure no one is around. When he's satisfied, he continues. "I was worried about you."

"You don't have to worry," you insist.

"Yeah," he scoffs. "That's not going to happen. No matter how much you want it to."

"Rex," you protest, and your stomach twists, a pang of guilt shooting through your chest. "You don't...you shouldn't...I mean, it's not..." You trail off, unable to find the right words, and your hands move to your belt, fiddling with the hilt of your lightsaber.

"Not what?" he presses. "It's not my business? Not my problem?"

"No. Yes," you mutter. You shake your head and take a deep breath, gathering yourself. "I don't know."

He watches you, his eyes scanning your face, taking in every detail. He sighs and shakes his head, his hand dropping away to activate the panel outside the lift. The doors open with a hiss and he waits, motioning for you to enter first.

You hesitate, and his hand reaches out, brushing against your hip, urging you forward. You step inside, and he follows, the door sliding shut behind him. His thumb presses the button for your floor, and the elevator begins to rise, the cables whirring softly.

"I know I don't have to," he says finally, his voice low and rough. He looks away, staring at the wall. "I know that. I don't care."

"You should," you argue weakly. "You should care."

"Well, I don't," Rex counters. His head turns, and his eyes lock onto yours, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You should know that by now."

"Yeah, I guess I should." 

You hold his gaze for a moment before looking away, unable to handle the intensity of his stare. Your hand returns to your belt, fidgeting with the hilt of your lightsaber, and a heavy silence falls over the lift, the only sound coming from the machinery as the elevator continues its slow ascent.

"I...I'm sorry," you say finally. "For worrying you. For making you worry."

"It's okay," he replies softly.

"It's not," you counter. Your hands clench into fists at your sides and your gaze moves to the floor. "It's not. You're...you're important. You didn't deserve that. Any of it. I should've called. I should've checked in. I should've—"

"Hey," he interrupts, and his hand lands on your arm, his fingers gripping your bicep, pulling you toward him. "It's okay."

You turn toward him, and his hands slide to your shoulders, holding you firmly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles through the thick material of your tunic. Rex's head dips down to meet your gaze, and his eyes move across your face, searching.

"It's okay," Rex repeats softly. His eyes flick down and then up again, and a small smile tugs at his lips, his fingers squeezing gently. "I'm glad you're back."

You nod and force a small smile, and he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. You hesitate and then return the gesture, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in, the familiar scent filling your lungs, calming you. His hand moves up and down your back, rubbing it soothingly, and his cheek rests against the side of your head, his lips brushing against your hair.

"I missed you," you whisper, the words barely audible. It's the first time you've said them aloud, the first time you've allowed yourself to admit them, even to yourself, and you cling to him, savoring the warmth of his body, the comfort of his touch.

His arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Me too."

Your heart leaps, and you pull away, looking up at him, taking in the softness of his expression, the tenderness in his eyes. A lump forms in your throat, a sudden sense of vulnerability washing over you.

"Rex," you start, and the rest of your words die on your tongue. You swallow, trying to speak, but nothing comes out, and your mouth snaps shut.

The elevator door slides open, and the moment is gone. Rex jerks away and takes a quick step back, putting distance between the two of you, and you take a steadying breath, willing yourself to calm down. The hallway is empty, but there's no telling who might be lurking around the corner, and you can't risk anyone seeing the two of you like this.

Rex steps out into the hall and looks back, checking to make sure you're following. You nod, and he moves ahead, leading the way, his hands once again clasped behind his back.

"I have your new quarters set up," he says as you fall into step beside him. "General Skywalker and Commander Tano will be down the hall, but you'll have some privacy. I thought you would appreciate that."

"Yeah," you mumble. "Thank you."

"They're not as nice as the ones you had before," he continues. His tone is flat, and he keeps his gaze fixed forward, not once glancing at you. "But, they're functional."

"I'm sure they're perfect," you assure him.

"Right," he nods. "Anyway, there's a briefing packet in your quarters. It has everything you'll need to know about your new command. I know it's a lot, but I'll be here to answer any questions you have."

"Very thoughtful of you," you say, a small smile playing on your lips. "I didn't think you could get any more organized."

He snorts and gives you a sideways glance. "Well, someone around here has to be."

You laugh, and the tension eases, the two of you slipping back into the familiar rhythm of banter and teasing, the same way you've done countless times before. You can't help but notice that there's an underlying sense of something more beneath the surface, an intimacy that's not quite the same as it was before. But it's subtle enough to be easily disregarded, and the two of you make small talk, discussing the ship, the crew, the new assignments, the upcoming battle on Bothawui. It's a pleasant distraction from the stress of your current situation, and by the time the two of you reach your rooms, you're almost relaxed. Almost.

Rex opens the door, and you step inside, taking in the space. It's a simple room, furnished with a bed, a small table and chair, and a built-in closet. It's not as large as your last room, but the large window that spans the wall more than makes up for any perceived lack of space. It's a stunning view, and you walk toward it, peering out at the stars and ships that fill the vastness of space above Coruscant.

"What do you think?" Rex asks from behind you. His voice is hesitant, and you can feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting.

"It's beautiful, Rex."

"Good," he says, relief evident in his tone. "I'm glad."

"You know me so well," you joke, and he laughs, a low rumble that sends a shiver through you. You turn and smile at him over your shoulder, and he smiles back, his expression softening.

"I try," he chuckles. His smile fades, and his gaze moves around the space, his posture stiffening. "There's, uh, also some paperwork for you. On the desk."

"Right," you mutter, and you move to cross the room towards the desk. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he says quietly.

You've only taken a step before you still, your eyes falling on a bottle of wine sitting next to a stack of datapads, and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. The bottle is tall and slender, the glass a deep green, and a card is placed neatly in front of it, your name written across the front in a familiar scrawl.

"Rex," you start slowly, a note of amusement in your tone. "Why is there wine on my table?"

"Ah," he mumbles, and he rubs the back of his neck, his shoulders hunching. "I...may have had something to do with that."

You turn to face him, and his face is red, his eyes darting everywhere but at you. A laugh bubbles up, and you cover your mouth, trying to hold it back, but a small giggle escapes, and Rex's face falls, a crease forming on his forehead.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

"You," you snort.

"Me?" he replies, his tone incredulous. He shakes his head, his lips pursing, and he lets out a long-suffering sigh. "I knew this was a bad idea. I should've—"

"No," you cut him off. Your hand reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him toward you, and you smile at him, a warm feeling filling your chest. "I'm not laughing at you. I promise. It's just...so sweet. No one's ever given me anything like that before."

"Really?" he says skeptically. "I can't believe that."

"Well, it's true," you assure him, and he relaxes, his features softening. You let go of his arm and glance at the wine, a wave of fondness washing over you. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he murmurs. He shifts awkwardly and clears his throat. "I was worried it would be too much. But I figured you'd need it. To celebrate."

"Or to drown my sorrows," you counter dryly, and Rex scoffs and shakes his head.

"Maybe both," he says, his tone playful.

"Definitely both," you reply, and he grins, his head ducking, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

The two of you stand in comfortable silence, and your eyes meet his, a warm tingle running through your body at the intensity of his gaze. Rex swallows and clears his throat, his hand reaching up to adjust the collar of his shirt.

"I should, uh, leave. Let you get settled," he says. His eyes move to the door, and his head turns slightly, his shoulders stiffening. "If you need anything, just comm me. I'll see you at the briefing later."

"Of course," you nod, and he steps back, heading for the door. When he reaches it, he pauses, glancing over his shoulder at you. You can see the conflict in his eyes. You know what he's feeling, and it's the same thing you're feeling. It's a question. And it's one you're not sure how to answer.

"Rex."

His brow furrows, his head turning to face you. You take a deep breath, summoning your courage, and speak before you can second-guess yourself. 

“You’re not going to make me drink alone, are you?”

His eyes widen in surprise, and he blinks once, twice, before breaking out into a small smile, a light chuckle leaving his lips.

"No, sir. I wouldn't dream of it," he says, the teasing lilt in his tone bringing a smile to your face. "I'll uh, come by after the briefing. We can...talk. If that's okay."

"Yeah," you breathe. "That's okay."

Rex nods and gives you a quick grin before disappearing out the door. As soon as he's gone, your smile disappears, and your shoulders slump, the weight of your responsibilities hitting you all at once. It's been a long week. One of the worst weeks of your life, and you're exhausted, your mind racing, your emotions stretched thin. But the thought of spending more time with Rex is a welcome distraction, and it helps take the edge off, giving you something to look forward to.

You walk over to the desk and pick up the card, studying the handwriting on the front. It's a simple message, written in bold, blocky letters, but the sight of his handwriting brings a smile to your face, and you open the card, reading the brief message inside.

Congratulations. You deserve this.

Yours,

Rex

The words make your heart flutter, and a wave of affection washes over you, making you feel light-headed and giddy. You've never seen him write, never known he could, and the thought of him sitting down, taking the time to put these words down on flimsi, fills you with an overwhelming sense of tenderness.

It's not the first time he's made you feel this way, but it's the first time he's done it knowingly, and the realization sends a rush of heat through your body, a tingling sensation running through you, making your heart race and your palms sweat. It's a feeling you've felt before, a feeling you've tried to ignore, and you've always pushed it down, buried it, pretended like it didn't exist.

But, it does. And now, the thought of him coming back later, the thought of being alone with him, fills you with an excitement and anticipation you haven't felt in a long time.

You want to be with him. You've wanted to be with him for months. And if you're honest with yourself, a part of you has always known it would come to this. The two of you have been growing closer for months, spending more and more time together, and it's gotten to the point where it's difficult to imagine your life without him in it. You've found yourself thinking about him constantly, wondering what he's doing, worrying about him, and every time he walks into a room, your stomach flutters, and your heart pounds, and a surge of affection rushes through you, making you dizzy and breathless and stupid, and—

“Force,” you mutter. You drop the card on the desk and place a hand on your forehead, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. This isn't the time for this. You're supposed to be figuring out how to run an entire fleet of starships and troops and a thousand other things that require your full attention. This isn't the time to get lost in fantasies or wishful thinking.

But, even as you think it, a part of you doesn't care. 

You’ve already proven yourself a failure when it comes to focusing on the important things. Why stop now?

With a frustrated sigh, you drop your pack on the bed and open it, taking out the clothes you’d hastily packed the day before. Everything is wrinkled, and a few pieces are torn, a reminder of how stressed you'd been. You can't help but roll your eyes and mutter a string of curses under your breath. You've spent an entire week on edge, and the last thing you need is to start your journey off with a reminder of how truly unstable you are.

With a shake of your head, you quickly fold the items and place them in the empty drawers, smoothing out the wrinkles and straightening the edges. It doesn't take long, and you're done within minutes, the only item left is Yaddle’s lightsaber.

Your fingers run over the cool metal, the engraved symbols rough beneath your skin. You lift it, holding it up to the light, studying the intricate designs. It's a beautiful piece, and a sense of calm settles over you, a faint buzzing sensation traveling up your arms and spreading throughout your body.

For the first time since the meeting with the Council, you can finally breathe.

It's not the end of the world.

You have a plan. And even though it's a bit crazy, even though it's more than a bit complicated, and even though there are a thousand ways for everything to go wrong, it's a start. A solid beginning.

And that's enough.

You turn and place the lightsaber on the desk, next to the wine bottle, and a small smile crosses your face. The sight of them together is strange, but comforting, and you can't help but laugh. Rex has a habit of bringing out the unexpected in you, and the fact that he's managed to do it even in your darkest moments is something you'll never stop being grateful for.

"Oh," you mutter.

That's a dangerous thought.

With a deep sigh, you check your appearance in the mirror and head to the briefing, doing your best not to think about what might happen later.

Later turns out to be after dinner.

The meeting is long and exhausting, and by the time the briefing ends, you're ready for a shower and a bed. But, Anakin and Ahsoka are still going over the battle plans, and there's no way you're going to interrupt them. So, you take a seat beside Rex, listening, adding a comment here and there, until finally, the meeting ends and everyone disperses, heading off to get some rest.

Rex stands and stretches, and the two of you make small talk, exchanging pleasantries and discussing the upcoming mission. But when the room is empty, and the two of you are alone, he glances at you and tilts his head toward the door, his eyebrow raising in a silent question. You nod, and he leads the way, guiding you back to your quarters, the two of you walking in silence.

The ship is quiet and dimly lit, the lights in the hallways turned down for the night cycle. It reminds you of the last time the two of you walked the Resolute’s halls toward your quarters. Much has changed since he escorted you back from the medbay that night, but the small glances and subtle touches are still the same, and the familiarity makes you smile, a warm feeling spreading through your chest.

When the two of you arrive at your room, Rex stops and waits for you to enter first. You press the keypad and step inside, and he follows, the door sliding shut behind him. Once the door closes, he takes a deep breath and rubs his face, and the exhaustion hits you at the same time, a heavy weariness settling in your bones. The stress and strain of the past few days has caught up with both of you, and the two of you look at each other, both letting out a tired laugh.

"Long day," he says with a rueful smile.

"Very long," you agree.

You move to the closet and hang up your outer robe, and Rex stands still in the center of the room. His posture is stiff, and you can tell he's nervous, his thoughts racing, his fingers drumming against his knee.

He's not the only one.

“I’m going to go change into something more comfortable," you tell him as you slip off your boots and toss them in the closet. "Why don't you open the wine?"

"Uh, sure," he mutters, and he clears his throat, nodding to himself. "Yeah, I can do that."

"I'll be right back," you say, and you disappear into the small refresher, closing the door behind you.

You lean against the sink and stare at yourself in the mirror, taking in your messy hair, the bags under your eyes, the way your face is drawn and pale. You're a mess. No wonder he's acting so skittish. He's probably terrified of what you'll do next. Or say.

With a deep sigh, you splash water on your face and change, the sound of a cork being removed reaching your ears. By the time you've changed and stepped back out, Rex has opened the bottle, leaving it on the desk. He's standing at the window, watching the blue-white streaks of hyperspace passing by the ship, his back to you.

You walk over and stop next to him, glancing at his face, taking in the sharp angles and strong lines, the stubble along his jaw, the crease between his brows, the slight downward turn of his mouth. His expression is a mix of concentration and uncertainty, and you can tell he's deep in thought, trying to find the right words.

"Hey," you murmur, and he starts slightly. His gaze moves to yours and his expression softens, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Hey," he says softly. His gaze moves down and then up, his eyes lingering on your face before they flick back to the stars. "Nice view."

"Yeah," you agree. "It is."

"How are you doing?" he asks. His voice is low and hesitant, and his brow furrows, his lips pursed. "I mean...you know."

"I'm fine," you reply automatically.

"Don't lie," he says, his tone gentle, but firm.

"What am I supposed to say?" you mutter. Your hands move to your belt, fiddling with the buckle. "That I'm pissed? That I'm disappointed? That I'm embarrassed? Because I am."

"I get that," he says, and he turns, leaning his hip against the window, his head turning to face you. His shoulders are hunched, and his arms are crossed, and he's looking at you intently, his eyes scanning your face. "Do you want to tell me what happened? With the Council?"

"Not really," you admit. "It was stupid. I was stupid. I said some things. Made some assumptions. It's done."

"Assumptions?" he repeats.

"Nothing important," you say dismissively. The bottle of wine sitting open on your desk suddenly seems much more appealing than before, and you move toward it, searching for the right words to explain what happened.

"It was..." You trail off, trying to think of the best way to describe it, and then give up, shaking your head. "A disaster."

"A disaster?" he repeats, a note of concern in his tone. He turns fully to face you, his eyes searching your face, his lips pursed. "What did they do?"

"Nothing," you mutter.  Your hand reaches out and grips the edge of the desk, steadying yourself. "They didn't do anything. It was like all the evidence we gathered didn't even matter, and I was just wasting their time."

"They didn't listen to you," he says slowly. It's a statement, not a question, and his face is grim, his expression tense. "About Dooku."

"No, they didn't," you agree. You open your desk drawer in search of two cups and take out the ones inside. They're simple, metal mugs, but they'll work well enough for the wine. You'd drink it straight from the bottle if you could, but the thought of Rex watching you do that makes you cringe. “And I didn’t react well."

Rex's eyebrows shoot up, and he watches you, his head tilting to one side. "How badly?"

You don’t respond, your eyes focused on filling the cups with wine. You can feel his gaze burning into the back of your head, and a flush rises to your cheeks, shame and guilt and frustration swirling inside you. You set the bottle down and grab the glasses, moving toward the window, trying to avoid the question.

"How badly?" he repeats, his voice rising slightly, his tone demanding.

"Not well," you admit. "I got a little angry."

"A little?" he snorts.

"Okay, maybe more than a little," you mutter, and a small laugh leaves his lips. You turn to look at him and roll your eyes. "It's not funny."

"Sorry," he chuckles. He steps toward you and takes one of the cups. His thumb rubs over the top of the glass, and his eyebrows raise in amusement. "You have a temper. That's not exactly news to me."

"I do not," you protest, and his eyebrows rise higher, his head shaking in disbelief. "I don't!"

"Sure," he smirks.

"I don't," you insist, and he laughs again. You glare at him and let out a huff. "Fine, I do, but not...not like this."

"So, what did you do?" he asks, his expression softening, his tone becoming more serious.

"I yelled," you admit, and a grimace twists your face. "I, uh, yelled at them quite a bit, actually. Obi-Wan had to drag me out of there."

Rex's jaw drops open slightly, his eyes widening, and you look away. A hot flush of shame creeps over you at the memory of it and everything that followed. Of how quickly you lost control of yourself. Of the fear and panic and desperation that had driven you to such an extreme reaction. Of the way they looked at you afterward.

"Wow," Rex mutters.

"Yeah," you agree.

"That's..." He trails off and takes a deep breath. He turns his head toward the window and stares out into space, his hand gripping his cup tightly. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," you murmur. You swallow hard, and the room falls silent, the only sound coming from the hum of the ship's engines. "I've been an ass lately."

"Don't say that," he argues.

"It's true," you shrug. "I've been an ass to everyone. Even you. And you didn't deserve that."

"I wasn't upset," he says quietly. His hand reaches out and covers yours, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go, and the familiar touch sends a shiver up your spine. "I just didn't know what to do. Or how to help."

"There wasn't anything you could've done," you tell him. Your hands grip the cup tightly, your knuckles turning white. "I was...I'm a mess. I am a mess."

"You're not a mess," he argues. He lets out a frustrated sigh and turns to face you, his eyes locking onto yours, his expression earnest. "You're stressed. And worried. And overwhelmed. And it's understandable. Anyone would be."

"Maybe," you concede.

"I'm sorry about Yaddle," he says after a moment. "That must've been tough."

"Yeah," you say slowly. Your voice is thick, and a lump forms in your throat, a wave of grief washing over you. You try to ignore it, pushing it down, focusing on the conversation, but the tears come anyway, stinging the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision. You wipe them away with the back of your hand and force a weak smile. "Thanks."

"Of course," he says softly.

"She would've liked you," you tell him. The tears continue to fall, and you swipe at them, sniffling loudly, and his hand rests on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. You glance at him and manage a shaky smile. "She would’ve liked you a lot."

"I hope so," he murmurs. His fingers trail down your arm and then drop away, and he clears his throat, taking a step back. He holds up his cup and lifts his eyebrow. "Should we drink to her?"

"Absolutely," you chuckle.

"To Master Yaddle," he says solemnly.

"To Master Yaddle," you repeat.

The two of you clink your glasses together and drink deeply. It’s…well, it’s not the best wine you've ever had, but it's not bad, and the warmth spreads through your body, easing the tension in your muscles and dulling the ache in your bones. You watch as Rex makes a valiant effort to hide his distaste, but the sour look on his face is enough to bring a laugh to your lips. 

"It's, uh, not bad,” he mutters.

"Liar," you snort. You take another sip of your own and feel your nose wrinkle, the bitter taste coating your tongue. "Force, that's awful."

"Yeah," he nods, and his face twists into a grimace, a shiver running through him. "Sorry. I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”

"No, it's okay," you assure him. "I appreciate the effort. Really."

"I'll remember to buy some real alcohol next time," he says, and his smile widens, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He takes another sip and shudders, a groan escaping his lips. "Ugh, no. That's terrible. Why would anyone drink this?"

"Because it's cheap and effective," you tell him. Your own face screws up as the harsh flavor hits your tongue, and you take a large gulp, doing your best to hide your discomfort. "Keep drinking. It'll get better."

"It'll get worse," he corrects. His expression is skeptical as he peers at the wine, eyeing the dark liquid. "Did I buy you...poison?"

"No," you reply with a laugh. "But it'll certainly feel like it in the morning."

"Wonderful," he drawls, and you can't help but grin, his dry sarcasm sending a rush of affection through you. He looks over at your sofa and sighs. "I'm going to need to sit down for this."

"Same," you agree, and you move to settle on the couch in front of the window, grabbing the bottle as you go. Rex follows and sits next to you, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. A safe amount of distance. Just enough to remind you both where the line is. That you're not supposed to cross it. Not even now.

"So," Rex starts. He takes another sip and his face pinches. "How did things end with the Council? Did you...did you get any answers?"

"No," you admit, taking a sip of your own and fighting back a shudder. "They just kept telling me to calm down."

"And then what happened?"

You give him a wry smile and drain your cup, setting it on the table next to the sofa before leaning back, letting the alcohol hit you fully. It’s been a while since you drank, and you can already feel the effects, a light buzzing in your head, the tension in your body fading away. "Then I fought with Obi-Wan and locked myself in my room for a week. But other than that, things went great."

"You fought with Kenobi" he says slowly. His eyes widen, and his head turns, his mouth hanging open slightly. "Why would you do that?"

"Because he was being a dick," you reply sharply. The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and Rex stares at you, his brow furrowing, his lips pressing together into a thin line. You sigh and shake your head. "Sorry. It's just...during the meeting, he didn’t stand up for me. And he was acting like he knew what was best for me."

"And did he?"

"No," you mutter, and Rex raises an eyebrow, his eyes fixed on your face. "Well, maybe. I don't know. It was hard, experiencing that again. I think we tried to pretend that nothing had changed, but things did. Things are different. I'm different."

"Yeah," Rex says quietly. He sets his cup on the table and leans back, his gaze fixed on the stars outside the window. "I know what you mean."

You study his face, taking in the lines and angles, the creases in his forehead, the faint shadows beneath his eyes. He looks tired. He looks worn. And you know it's not just from today. It's everything that's happened since the start of the war. It's every battle he's fought. Every sacrifice he's made. It's been a long year. For all of you. But for him especially.

"How are you?" you ask. The question seems ridiculous when asked aloud. Of course he's not okay. None of you are. But you have to ask. You have to know. "Really."

"I'm fine," he says.

"Really?"

"No," he sighs. His shoulders slump, and his eyes close. He tilts his head back and lets out a ragged breath. "No, not really."

"I didn't think so," you murmur, and a grimace twists his face, his brow furrowing deeply, a deep sigh leaving his lips. His hand reaches up, rubbing his face, and he shakes his head, his eyes opening, staring straight ahead, unseeing, his thoughts miles away, somewhere far beyond the view of the stars that surround you.

"It's been a long year," he mutters, and you nod, unable to find the right words. "A very long year."

"Yeah," you murmur in agreement.

The silence falls between the two of you once more, the tension returning as the reality of the situation sets in. This isn't a happy reunion between friends, or a fun night out with co-workers. This is a soldier and a Jedi, two people who have known each other for months, have been fighting side by side for almost a year, and have shared more than either of them could have imagined.

This is something else.

"It'll be okay," you finally say. You’re not sure if you believe it, and you’re not one for empty reassurances, but it seems like the thing to say, and Rex looks at you, the corners of his mouth turning up in a weak smile.

"Yeah," Rex nods. "I know. We'll figure it out."

"We will," you say confidently. You reach out and cover his hand with yours. Your fingers trace the outline of his knuckles underneath his glove, and you squeeze his hand. "We always do."

"I wish things were different," he mutters. His voice is rough, his tone heavy, and your chest aches, the weight of his words hitting you. He swallows and turns his hand, his palm pressing against yours. His thumb runs over your knuckles, and he sighs, his fingers squeezing yours gently. "I wish a lot of things were different."

"Me too," you whisper, and his hand moves away, slipping out from under yours. 

Your palm feels cold without his touch, and you resist the urge to reach out, to take his hand in yours again, and pull it back to where it belongs. Where you want it to be. But you don't. Instead, you reach for the wine, pouring yourself another glass, doing your best to ignore the hollow feeling in your stomach. 

"I can't believe you gave me wine," you tease, and he snorts, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Me either," he admits. He shakes his head, his gaze returning to yours. "But I figured you'd need it."

"How are you so nice?" 

You don't mean to say it aloud, but the words slip out, and you flush, embarrassed by your question. Rex laughs and gives you a small shrug, his lips curving up into a sheepish smile.

"I'm not," he chuckles. His head tilts to the side and he studies you, his expression thoughtful. "It's  easy to be nice when it's you."

"That's..." you trail off, not quite sure how to respond.

"It's the truth," he says simply.

"Right," you nod. You take a deep breath and turn your gaze to the stars, the familiar sight of hyperspace giving you a sense of comfort, of safety. “Well, I’m lucky to have you then."

"Yeah," he murmurs, and when you glance at him out of the corner of your eye, his eyes sparkling, and a small laugh escapes his lips. "You are."

You let out a huff and elbow him in the ribs, and he laughs louder, his hands shooting up, holding them in front of his chest defensively.

“I can’t believe you. I’m trying to be nice!” you say indignantly.

"Nice," Rex scoffs. He rolls his eyes and drains his glass, his shoulders shaking with mirth, and the sight makes you smile, a warm, tingling sensation rushing through you. “Since when are you nice?"

"Always," you say with a dramatic huff. You stick your nose in the air and take a sip of your wine, glaring at him over the top of your cup.

"Not always," he snickers. "Remember the first time we met?"

“Not this again,” you groan, and his grin widens, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. You can't help but roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Fine. Yes. I wasn't nice."

"That’s an understatement," he laughs. He shakes his head and pours another glass of wine, filling it to the brim, his head turning to look at you. "I thought you were going to stab me."

"I still might," you retort dryly. Rex snorts and lifts the cup to his lips, drinking deeply. You watch as his throat bobs, a flush rising to his cheeks. When he lowers his cup, his expression is somber, his smile fading, and he clears his throat, shifting slightly on the sofa.

“You were the first Jedi I’d ever met," he says quietly. His fingers run over the rim of his cup, his gaze focused on the liquid inside, his brow furrowed. "The first human outside of the trainers I’d ever met, actually. And you were...not what I expected."

"Oh?" you prompt. You can't help but wonder what he's thinking. What he's feeling. The two of you have grown close, have become good friends, but there's a part of him that's always been guarded, a part of him that's kept hidden, and it's those parts of him that interest you the most.

"You were so..." Rex trails off, his eyes flicking to yours. He takes a deep breath and holds your gaze. "Stubborn. And angry. You were furious. At everyone and everything."

"I was," you admit.

"I didn't know what to make of you," he says slowly. He shifts closer, his body angling towards yours. "You were so different from what I was expecting. I was told about the Jedi. About how wise and kind and serene they were. And then I met you."

"And?"

"And I thought you were crazy," he replies.

You let out a small laugh and take another drink. You'd had your own opinions about him when the two of you first met, and while his assessment of your personality isn't wrong, it's not entirely accurate either. You were scared and confused, and you took it out on him. It wasn't fair. To either of you. But you've learned a lot since then. About the war. About yourself. About him.

"Maybe I am," you say lightly. Rex chuckles and shakes his head.

"You're not crazy," he corrects. "You're...passionate."

"Is that a nice way of saying stubborn?" you tease. Rex smiles and lifts his shoulder in a half shrug. "You were just as bad."

"Yeah," he nods.

"You were rude," you say pointedly. "And sarcastic. And infuriating."

"Sorry," he mutters.

"I liked it," you add, and he looks at you in surprise, his eyebrows raising. You smirk and tilt your head to the side. "You didn’t take any of my shit, and you were funny. I liked that."

"Really?"

"Yes," you insist. You take another sip and try to keep your tone even, to hide the excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. "I still do."

"I'm glad," he says quietly. There's an undercurrent of something else in his tone. Something deeper and darker and more complicated than anything the two of you have talked about. His eyes move to the wine and then back to you, a hint of regret flickering across his features. "I wasn't trying to insult you. I was just...I wasn't prepared."

"For me?"

"For you," he confirms. He drains his glass and sets it on the table next to the sofa. His hand falls to his lap, and he stares down at it, his fingers tapping restlessly against his leg. "I'd never met anyone like you before."

"What does that mean?" you ask. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing, and a hint of a smile crosses his face.

"You were..." He trails off, and his expression turns thoughtful, his eyes drifting away from yours, his gaze fixed on some distant memory. "You were fearless. You didn't care what anyone thought. You were strong and determined and fierce. And I..."

He breaks off and shakes his head. A small chuckle leaves his lips, and his eyes meet yours, the intensity in them making you shiver.

“I was in awe of you,” he says softly. “I thought you were the most incredible person I'd ever seen. And yeah, I thought you were a little scary, but...in a good way."

"Scary?" you repeat, a note of disbelief in your voice, and Rex laughs, his head ducking down, his eyes crinkling. There’s a flush creeping up his neck and he looks up at you, his smile growing wider.

"Terrifying," he says with a laugh. "But not in a bad way."

You snort. "I'm glad.”

"I'm not scared of you anymore," he tells you. His tone is serious, and the humor fades, his expression becoming solemn. "But I am...I'm in awe of you. Still."

"I..." you trail off. His words send a rush of heat through your body, a warm feeling spreading through your veins, and you find yourself staring at him, unable to speak, unable to think. The only thing you seem capable of doing is looking at him and hoping that he understands the things you can't say. Because he has to understand. He has to feel the same way. Doesn't he?

"It's true," he says, his voice low and quiet. "I don't know if I ever told you, but...you saved my life that day. On Geonosis. And...I think I knew then that I would follow you anywhere."

"You didn't have much choice," you point out, and he shakes his head, a small sigh escaping his lips.

"That's not true," he murmurs. "There were plenty of choices. There were a million choices I could've made that day. And none of them involved following you. But I did. Because I wanted to."

His words catch you off guard, and you sit still, staring at him, taking in the sincerity in his voice, the earnestness of his expression, the conviction in his eyes. It's the most honest he's been with you, and you don't know what to say. What to do. How to react.

"Rex," you breathe. You shake your head and force a smile, doing your best to push aside the emotions churning within you. "You're drunk."

“My metabolism is too fast to be drunk on this swill," he snorts, shaking his head. "But even if I was, that doesn't mean it isn't true. I followed you because I wanted to. Because I knew you were someone worth following."

"Even when I'm angry and impulsive and reckless?" you ask wryly. Rex smiles and nods.

"Especially when you're those things," he says, his voice soft and gentle. “You wouldn’t be you otherwise."

You open your mouth to reply and close it, the words sticking in your throat. You turn and stare at him, searching his face, trying to find the right thing to say, the right way to respond, but there's nothing. No words. No clever remarks. No snappy comebacks. Just the overwhelming desire to be close to him.

When you speak again, your voice is shaky, the words barely above a whisper.

"You're too good for me," you say, your eyes dropping to your cup, the wine swirling within it, the deep red liquid reflecting the lights from the stars outside the window. You glance up and find his eyes focused on yours, the tenderness and affection clear in his gaze. "You know that, right?"

"No, I'm not," he murmurs, his tone firm. His fingers brush against your hand, his fingertips trailing along the inside of your wrist, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. "And I know you're not perfect. And that's okay. That's not why I..." He swallows and looks away. "That's not why."

"Why what?" you press. Your heart pounds in your chest, your hands shaking slightly, and Rex shakes his head, his jaw clenching, his expression strained. He reaches for the wine bottle and pours himself another glass, lifting it to his lips, his eyes focused on the stars. You wait for him to speak, but he remains silent, his brow furrowing, his jaw tightening further. "Why what, Rex?"

He lets out a deep sigh and turns back to you, his gaze moving from yours to your lips, and then back again. His eyes are dark and intense, and his voice is low, barely audible.

"You know why," he says quietly.

The words hang in the air between the two of you, the weight of them heavy and thick. There's a part of you that wants to deny it, to pretend that you have no idea what he means, but the other part, the one that's been pushing those thoughts aside since the day the two of you saw each other again, knows exactly what he's saying.

He wants you.

He's wanted you since the beginning.

But, it's more than that, and you know it.

Because, the truth is, you've wanted him too.

You've wanted him since the first time the two of you worked together, since the moment he looked at you, and saw the real you, the version of yourself that's hidden away, locked away behind a mask of anger and arrogance and stubbornness. Since the moment he saw who you really are, and decided he wanted to know more, to know you, to know the person beneath the surface. Since the moment he made you laugh, made you smile, made you feel something besides the darkness and the emptiness that has consumed your life for the past ten years.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His eyes drop to the floor, his shoulders hunching forward, and you can feel the shame radiating off him. He shakes his head, and his cheeks flush, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have...this is stupid. Forget I said anything. It was just...the wine."

"Don't be," you tell him softly.

His head snaps up and he looks at you, his brow furrowing, his lips turning downward.

"What?" he breathes.

"Don't be sorry," you repeat. You take a deep breath and lift your hand, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. "I'm not."

"You're not?" he asks.

"No," you reply as your thumb moves along his jawline, and his eyes flutter shut, a small sigh escaping his lips. “I’m only sorry that we won’t have the chance to do anything about it."

"About what?"

"About us," you murmur. “This new command…there’s no telling how long we'll be apart."

"I know," he says quietly.

He's quiet for a moment, his eyes still closed, and his face turns slightly, pressing against the palm of your hand. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and when his eyes open, his gaze meets yours, the intensity in them sending a shiver down your spine.

"Then we should make the most of the time we have left," he says softly. His hand moves up your arm, and his fingers run along your jaw, tracing the line of your cheekbone. His gaze lingers on your lips before returning to yours, and his thumb brushes over your chin, sending a rush of warmth through you

“I don’t know if we should,” you whisper, but your conviction is waning, and your body betrays you, leaning into his touch, craving the feel of his skin against yours. Rex sighs, his fingers moving to the back of your neck, his palm cupping your cheek, his thumb rubbing gently against the soft skin below your ear. 

Your head dips toward his, and your foreheads touch, his lips hovering inches from yours. You can feel his breath fanning across your face, and your hands reach out, gripping his armor. Your fingers dig into the material, desperate for some anchor to keep you steady, to keep you from losing control, from surrendering yourself completely to the desire and need that are coursing through your body.

"Neither do I," he admits. His other hand moves up, cradling the side of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. His gaze meets yours, and the conflict and uncertainty are plain on his face. He swallows hard and his lips part slightly. "But...I want to."

"Me too," you confess.

"We should stop," Rex murmurs, his eyes searching yours. "Before things go too far."

"Probably," you agree.

But neither of you move, and his gaze drops to your mouth, his thumb moving along your lower lip, tugging gently. A small gasp escapes your mouth, and his eyes lock onto yours, his lips curving into a slight smile.

"I can't," he breathes.

"I know," you say softly. Your hands slide up his chest, moving to the back of his neck, and his head dips forward, his nose brushing against yours, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip.

There’s a moment of hesitation. A brief second where both of you know that there's no going back. A fleeting moment when the two of you stop and consider what it will mean if you cross the line. If the two of you finally give in and do the thing that you've both wanted for months. A moment where both of you wonder if this is the right choice. If this is the path the two of you should take.

A sudden, heavy lurch of the ship snaps you out of your thoughts and sends both of you crashing to the ground. You fall forward, your hands flying out, catching yourself before your body can slam into the floor. Rex lets out a grunt as he lands beside you, his elbow hitting the ground with a loud thud.

You watch as the blur of blue and white outside your viewport flips to black, a jarring change that leaves you dizzy and disoriented. There's a low whine and a rumble as the engines power down, and the lights flicker once, twice, and then shut off, leaving the two of you in total darkness.

"What the hell?" you mutter, pushing yourself up, squinting at the viewport. Your vision is blurred, and your mind is foggy, and you rub at your eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Rex groans and sits up, and the two of you fumble in the dark for a few seconds before you call your lightsaber into your hand. The yellow glow from the crystal provides just enough light for the two of you to see each other. Rex's face is grim as he glances around the room.

"Are we under attack?" he asks. You shake your head as you reach out with the Force, searching for any sense of danger, and find none.

"No," you reply. "I don't think so."

"Good," he sighs, and he pushes himself up onto his feet, offering you a hand. You take it and allow him to pull you to your feet. His grip is firm and strong, and he holds your hand for a moment longer than necessary, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver up your arm. “We should—“

There’s another loud thump, and the two of you are thrown sideways, your lightsaber flying from your hands. Rex's arms wrap around your waist, steadying you as you both slam into the wall. You land on top of him with a thud, his hands still wrapped around your hips, his breath coming in short, shallow pants. You look up at him, your faces only inches apart, the sound of his breathing filling the air, his eyes wide and searching.

“That sounded like an explosion," you mutter, your hands braced against his chest. Rex's brow furrows as he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line. "An internal one."

As if in answer, the blare of the klaxons sounds throughout the ship, and the emergency lights flash on, bathing the two of you in a crimson glow.

"Attention. Attention. This is an emergency. All personnel are ordered to proceed immediately to their stations. This is an emergency. All personnel..." The computer repeats the message over and over, and you look up at the speakers, frowning in confusion.

"This can't be good," Rex mutters.

"No," you agree. Your head dips down, and you close your eyes, a deep, uneasy feeling settling in your gut. "No, it's not."

"We need to go," he says quietly, and you nod, taking a step back. His arms move away from your waist, and he hesitates for a moment before he reaches up, cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushes across your cheekbone, and his expression softens, the tension in his body easing. "Later."

"Later," you echo, and his hand moves to your shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. You watch as he straightens his back, his face growing serious, and he turns and marches towards the door, grabbing his helmet along the way. You take a deep breath and shake yourself, pushing aside the disappointment and frustration and confusion swirling inside you. You can deal with all of that later. Right now, there's work to be done.

You can only hope that whatever is happening isn't as bad as it seems.

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[carmenized-onions]

Loosen Your Grip. | R & D

logline; even when it seems counter-intuitive.

[!!!] series history; so many parts, so many words.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. 8 hour mark officially! Lets go!

portion; 15k knowing the next chapters, this trend isn't going to change. they have started to line up with the chapter number, to my chagrin.

possible allergies; i think this one is relatively harmless? Stress though. Everyone's stressed. Idk what to tell you man, it's the bear. oh but more things were yoinked from Season 3!! Think that's just gonna be ongoing tbh. also if this is bad don't tell me. tell me it's really good, actually. i've never doubted a chapter more than I do this one.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader it's so fem. it's so she/her'd it's so girl'd i'm so sorry

kofi; if you’ve enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!

i'm so sorry for the delays beloveds, can you say 'most high stress but high reward month and a half of my life'? i can!!!

The Monday morning after New York— The first morning waking up in your own bed in a day or two— Comes rudely. Well, not immediately. First you have to roll over and grab aimlessly at your nightstand, searching for your phone to turn off your alarm. Through blurred vision you slide it to snooze, and as you debate going back to bed, your eyes glaze over some texts you’ve received in your sleep, from numbers you never bothered to put in your contacts. It takes a minute to absorb the information and register it as real, but once you do—

“...Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

—You’re definitely not gonna be heading back to bed anymore. You’re wide-eyed and wired— You can probably skip coffee this morning. Maybe every morning forever.

“Oh— I fucking hate this fucking city, I fucking hate Chicago— Fuck this!” 

In lieu of coming to terms with your world shattering news, perhaps this is an important moment to express gratitude, for the things that have gone well in the past few days. 

The rest of the weekend in New York was as lovely as a last-minute trip in a cramped car full of kitchen equipment and four neurotics can be.

Gratitude. Highlight reel?

There’s a bag M and Ms monogrammed with Syd’s, Richie’s, Carmy’s, and your faces in your pantry now. Eva shouldn’t be the only one allowed to have fun. Though snacking on all your cute little faces does make you feel like a slight monster.

Managed to get a good gift for Richie. Thank you Tiffanys. It was certainly an interesting moment when everyone tried to come up with lame excuses as to why they had to split up from the group to definitely totally not go get Christmas presents.

 Carmen’s knife guy wasn’t able to do engravings on such short notice, and you’re not the type to settle for less, especially not with Syd, so that’ll be a next year gift, it seems. You came up with a serviceable back-up while strolling through the MET— Which was a mostly fun field trip, it was very inspiring. You all could've done without Richie's pretentious prattling about postmodern absurdist dadaism. Mostly because you're pretty sure half of it was wrong; but still a good trip, all told.

Still lost on what to get Carmen… You’ve got a week, it’s fine. You’ve done more with less before. How do you subtly ask a guy, ‘hey, what the hell else do you like besides your job?’ You’ll figure it out. Figure it out like you figure out everything else, like you always do. Hopefully.

It's Monday. You've got a week. It's fine. Stop looking at your phone. This is such bad timing. This is awful fucking timing. You’ll figure it out. Stop looking at your phone, stop looking at the texts. Do the Connections, send it to Carmy, he already sent his, be normal… Just such bad timing—

At the very least if you can't bear to look away from the life ruining texts, just shut your phone off. You’ve got to stop ruminating or you’ll rot in bed forever. And you really have to get out on time, today. 

“God wants me to kill myself—” Gratitude. Express gratitude.

The drive back went ‘well’. Everyone had their licenses so the squad took shifts either driving or sitting on the uncomfortable console. Or, in your case specifically, sitting half on Carmen’s lap in shotgun on occasion despite the many complaints from Syd and Richie. You had a good excuse! Neither of you slept for the entire trip just to work on the cocktail and coffee menu. It was practically a sacrifice! It was just easier to sit up front together, okay!? You had to be close, you were scribbling ratios and drawings of glasses into a stolen notepad from the Holiday Inn with pencil crayons bought from FAO Schwarz—

Oh, hey, put that on the gratitude scoreboard, that was another thing that went well. Pretty cool to go to the oldest toy store in America. Might not have gotten the chef in your life anything yet, but the kids in your life are covered— You’re winning best Aunt for sure.

Oh, huge highlight— Didn’t say love you, like some idiot. Got away with that by the skin of your teeth, honestly. Hard to stare up at the Rockefeller Christmas Tree next to the guy and not blurt out something fucking stupid. Thank God for Syd, who stomped on your foot when you seemed a little too doe eyed.

With great pain and bemoaning, you finish expressing gratitude, which hasn’t helped much. You slam your phone screen down on your nightstand and roll out of bed. 

Today’s Monday. Today’s your first day at The Bear. Today that is the priority and there is nothing else to worry about.

You signed your contract last night. Talked to Syd for hours about it, planning next steps and goals and classes and budgets and a million other things. You’re both a little easily excitable, when it comes to lists and plans. Watching you sign yours gave her the ‘confidence’ to sign hers, if you can call it that. Not like you knew she needed the help, though.

“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life…” If you keep saying it while washing your face in the bathroom, it’ll become true, right? …Where’s Sara’s card again?

The Bear doesn’t run service on Mondays, so it’s a good day to do onboarding— Good day to do R and D. …What does one wear to R and D? Don’t need the serving uniform. Don’t need to dress up. Don’t need the jumpsuit… This is the first time you don’t need a uniform and that is bizarre.

You’ll wear your dad’s flannel, at least. Feels illegal to not wear the patch worked flannel. But besides that, you’re just a normal… restaurateur… part of the team…

Your hand hovers over where your necklace sits, in the small jewellery box on your vanity. “Mikey, if you want me to keep wearing it, make my ceiling cave in or some shit.”

You give it ten seconds and nothing falls. With a curt nod to no one, you pick up your book bag filled with loose tools and the menu filled notepad. Leave your bedroom, put your shoes on, grab your keys out of your clay dish tray on the way out.

It’s snowing.

That’s a lot of stuff falling, so to speak.

That’s basically a sign. That’s basically what you asked for.

You head back in, grab the necklace, hook it over your neck, and tuck it under your shirt. Baby steps. You head back out.

…And then soon after, head back in— Forgetting one of the most important things you need today. “The fucking glass, goddamn it!”

There’s a chance that today might be a little bit of an off day for you. No one’s gonna notice that, though.

“Mikey, why didn’t you tell me? You want me to look stupid on my start day, don't you? Fucker.”

You’re good. You’re you. You figure shit out. You’re compartmentalising perfectly and no one’s gonna be able to tell that you’re internally scrambling to figure out where you're gonna live once your lease gets terminated.

“ ‘Sup with you?” Okay, so Tina did immediately notice upon opening the back door for you. She tries to help you with the huge sheet of plexiglass you’re carrying, but you wave her off, stumbling further inside The Bear. Thankfully it’s a slow start to the morning, so the walk way is clear for your fumbled steps.

“I got it, T, just spot me—”

“Woahwoahwoah—” But alas, immediately Carmen is rushing over, making a big deal over nothing, “Fuck are you doin?” And grabs the thick sheet of glass from you. “Wait by your car next time, why do I gotta keep tellin’ you?”

“I am very capable—” You grunt, but you’re relieved when he takes the weight off you. You nod to the table in front of expo. “Put it on the island.”

“What’s it for?” Carmy asks but he follows direction without hesitation.

“Syd’s idea.” You walk with him, sidling up to Syd who’s already stationed up on the island with what looks like way too much paperwork for Chefs. You bump her shoulder as a greeting, she bumps you back. She lifts up the stack of papers and you pick up her deli container of Coke and ice, letting Carmen slide the glass onto the table.

“Unless it’s bad—” You correct, putting the cup down and digging through the tool bag on your shoulder for the right parts. “If you hate it, then it’s my idea.”

Syd snorts next to you, putting the papers back down on top of the glass. “Nice save.”

“What’s your idea, Chef?” Carmen taps his fingers against the glass, bemused.

You finally fish out two lock hinges from your bag, gesturing to them with a little flair like you’re Vanna White as Sydney explains. “For R and D. Thought since we’re like— Constantly changing shit and needing to review, it’d be like, useful to have a whiteboard— But those are huge and inconvenient for a restaurant— Duh— So—”

“Glass!” You come in with the assist as she rambles on. “On hinges— These one’s lock so you can have the glass sort of tilted up like an easel, or on the station— And then when you start service you can just flip it down off the counter for the night. Easy!”

“And—And—” Like a TV ad, Syd points out, “We can put paper under it and still be able to see— So it’ll make editing clearer— I-I think.”

Carmen always takes a nerve-wracking amount of time to think through other’s ideas, but once he nods, you both breathe easy. “Smart idea. Thank you, Chefs.”

You just smile, and this seems to bother Carm. Or at the very least, something is bothering him, as he frowns. “You got a second?”

Your brows furrow, for a moment, worried. You nod, putting your tools down. Glass can wait. “Always.”

Carmen comes around the counter, before he pulls you aside, Syd whispers over your shoulder, “Trouble in paradise.” Making you snort. When has it ever been paradise?

The two of you lean across from each other in the doorway of Carmen’s office, not quite in, not quite out. He looks worried, and his worrying is making you worry. He’s first to say something, concerned hand on your shoulder.

“Are you good?”

Fuck, he caught you too? “Hmm? Yeah, I’m good, do I not—”

You’re halfway through your response when he interrupts, he seems even more panicked by your words. His hand abandons your shoulder. “Right— Stupid, stupid fucking question— I just— Sorry—”

“Woah—” You grip both his shoulders, rubbing down his sleeves lightly. “Are you good, Carmy? You’re right, sweets. You caught me. I’m a lil’ off today. What gave me away?”

“Right, yes— You’re nice.” He’s saying it more to himself than you, like he needs to remind himself. Even so, it still hitches your heartbeat. “I— I’m good, I was just—You didn’t text me back this morning.”

“Oh.” You say it so breathlessly, with relief. It’s cute that that’s what’s got him freaking. “Sorry, yeah, I’ve been trying to not look at my phone, I just got some…” You shake your hand in the air for effect. “Bleh news. Put a wrench in some things for me, that’s all.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Ah—” You shake your head, waving it off, “Too much to get into. Later, though?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whenever you want.” He nods. “Ah, I wanna get into uhm—” Carmen snaps his fingers a few times, finding the words. “Get into drinks, today. I made all the concentrates and syrups ahead of time—But Uncles gonna come in first with The Computer to go over some numbers shit— Should be here in thirty?”

You nod, squinting. “Is it like… A special computer or something?”

“Computer is a guy.” Carmen says, while Syd yells the same in tandem with him, “Why wouldn’t he be!?” Walking past you both as she carries produce out of the walk-in.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” You grin, reiterating. Your smile soon sobers though, as you finally notice a giant silver blob of machinery behind Carmen. “Baby, what the fuck is that?” 

You’re already walking past him, quickly winding up all over again. It’s a gorgeous espresso machine— “It’s an Ascaso.” Explains Carmen. “It’s the best.” And it’s sitting exactly where your beautiful beat up mistake of a heavily-stained coffee machine used to be. 

“Baby, baby, baby—” you’re looking above and below the station for your rusted companion, hushed and panicked. “Don’t tell me you threw away the old one—” 

“You want the old one?”

Richie’s timing is perfect, as he walks in from front of house, and even from just hearing the last sentence, “Fuckin’ told you, Carm.” He knows the context. He keeps walking— On a mission, seemingly.

“I’m grateful— I- I am.” You kneel down and shove some mixing bowls aside to see if it was tucked in the back of some shelf— It’s not here. She’s not here. “New is good— New is nice— I’ll learn how to use the new one— I will— But— I— I need the old one— You didn’t throw it away, did you?” 

When he stays silent, you turn and look up to Carmen from where you’re crouched on the ground, pleading. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I— I—” The Chef is nearly sweating from this line of questioning alone. “It— It barely worked—”

“I know it didn’t! That’s the point!”

He blinks. You just seem to be saying all his trigger phrases, today, huh? “That’s the point?”

“I knew how she worked.” You push yourself back up onto your feet. “It’s got an espresso function that doesn’t work, if you tamp the basket the basket literally breaks off so you have to hold it and burn your hand a little— You have to hold the hot water button at the same time as the grind button for some reason or it won’t dispense— It’s literally a fucking nightmare— I covered it in like ten sticky notes of instructions at one point and they became pointless because no one but me was willing to use it. And— And I’ve got it memorized.”

“...And you want that?”

“No one’s gonna know how to take care of her, she’s my baby!” You gesture, albeit a bit too dramatically, speaking with your hands. “If you throw her away or donate her, no one’s gonna take the time to figure it out— They’re just gonna think she’s broken but she’s not, she works! She just needs the right hand!”

A dull silence falls between you, as Carmen purses his lips, squinting. There’s an ever slight chance your ‘I’m totally fine’ facade is cracking. “...Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your thing right—” 

“I’m good!” “...Okay.” “Did you get rid of her?”

“Relax, Handy!” Carmen does not say this. 

You grimace, looking behind Carmen to see Chi-Chi yelling from around the bend, in The Beef’s corner territory. Looking over him with the blue apron calling you your least favourite nickname by far— Well, second least favourite, only to— “She’s over here, Jack-Off. More our speed than rich boy’s ack - queso bullshit…” It’s nostalgic. Bad nostalgic but nostalgic. 

He slaps the top of the machine, you and Carmen both wince as a random spigot falls off it. Chi-Chi clicks his tongue, staring at it in silence. “...Refresher would be good, though.”

You’re already walking back to your damaged darling, patting Carmen on the shoulder as a form of goodbye, he pats your hand back. You don’t get to see him smile, as he watches you get to work. “Don’t fuckin’ call me Jack-Off and don’t touch her, I’ll show you, I’ll break your hand Cheech, I swear—”

The man in question shrugs, a devilish and terrible smirk on his stupid face. “Ey, love a woman in charge. Show me the ways.” 

Even on your most off days, working with The Beef will always be second nature for you. Even when the space is significantly more cramped than it used to be. 

You rewrite directions on how to use the coffee machine while showing them to Ebra and Chi-Chi. Ebra tends not to learn new tricks, so he stops listening by the time you get to syrups. That’s fine. No one ordered syrups in their coffee at The Beef back in the day all that often either.

Mikey really shouldn’t have invested in all those syrups back then. He really only did it for you and the staff. To be fair, when he did convince regulars to try your coffee they always changed their tune. The people don’t know what they like yet. They will like this. You were his proof that that idea was true.

“You gotta toss these, Boss. Slows you down.” You overhear Cheech saying behind you. You turn to see his arm on Ebra’s shoulder, holding the small blue baskets for sandwiches in his other hand. “Just the wrapping is fine. These people are gonna throw this shit out anyways, waste of plastic.”

Cheech turns his head to you, “Right, Handy?”

“...Don’t call me Handy.” Don’t freak out about throwing the old stuff away. Don’t freak out about throwing his old stuff away. You shrug, looking at Ebra over your shoulder. “Maybe just offer them, if they ask for one?”

“Y’know what the people are asking for, babe?” Cheech sucks his teeth, pulling Ebra closer, who looks nonplussed. “They’re asking where the nearest brick is to throw through our window. This rich people shit is getting on their nerves.”

You sigh, eyes flitting to Ebra for confirmation. “Yeah?”

He shrugs, nodding. “Ninety-eight percent, Jack-Off.” Cheech and the gang have been a terrible influence. How are you going to undo this?

“C’mon, E…” You scoff, but nod as you turn around, arms crossed. Gesturing with the frother as you do. “Well, I’ll make note of that. Now back to the fuckin’ hand frother, Cheech?”

“I know how to crank it, Handy—” “I swear to fucking God—”

“Ey!” Tina comes up to your corner, smacking the back of Chi-Chi’s head with a hand towel when she does. “Don’t talk to the baby like that, clean your mouth.”

He puts one hand on the back of his head, hissing, and another up in front of him, in defense. “Ey, T, it’s all love, aright? Playing!”

“Yeah well, you’re not gonna wanna play wit’ this one. ‘Specially not now—” She nudges you, smiling that coy ‘I’m about to blow up your spot’ smile.

You grimace, attempting to interrupt her. “T, don’t—” “That she’s Jeff’s.” “—Goddamnit.”

“Oh! Oh shit!” Cheech laughs, delightfully shocked. “You finally closed on Charmin’? Congrats—” It’s a blessing and a curse that Carmen, the guy you only ever saw in photos and heard in stories that you had a very minor and not vocal crush on, is now your… boyfriend? Undetermined.

You wave a hand in his face, “Shut the fuck up—”

“So where should I send flowers?”

You hate this family. “For the record, I have not closed shit.”

“What’s closing?” Tina takes a half step back, surveying your face, it doesn’t reveal anything. “What’s that? Gramps?” She turns her question on Ebra, who shrugs, equally as old and unknowing. 

“Well Jack-Off’s a little Mother Mary for my taste—”

You scoff, “So not true, for the record—” but Chi-Chi continues his tirade. “So I suspect she just means they haven't had the ‘are we datey-wating carmy baby?’ talk.”

You all but growl, crossing your arms as you wait for the second tutorial coffee to finish dispensing from the beloved whirring machine behind you. You can get the fuck out of here as soon as it’s done, and you’re praying that’s soon, because this interrogation is about to turn terrible. “We are currently unlabelled, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

Tina kisses her teeth, poking at your shoulder. “Richie told me you spent the whole wedding together and you come back with no label?”

You sigh, composure falling apart. You are not ready for a mother’s disappointment. “We talked out a lot of important stuff—” “Mija, that is important stuff!”

“I just— We’ll talk eventually—” 

Chi-Chi conveniently interrupts you when it looks like Tina’s about to go off into a full rant on the downfall of romance in modern relationships. “So you’re still on the market, Handy?”

“For you?” You smile, then drop it. Pushing your hand against his forehead. “Never. Now froth the fucking milk.”

He mumbles an endless series of expletives, but gets to work. You give him a quick tutorial on the hand frother— You fought hard for the old machine, but you are overjoyed to see an automated steamer and frother on that Ascaso. That part is gonna be a dream. You can make so many new drinks for Carm— The menu. 

When you finish, you take the latte from Cheech to hand to Tina; and when you do, you catch her looking… off. She’s staring at the piled up diner baskets, next to the unused napkin dispensers. 

You put your hand on her shoulder, massaging it lightly. “You good, T?”

Your hand shocks her back into reality, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, baby.” It takes her a second to remember where she is. She takes the latte, nodding. “I’m good. You good?”

“I’ve got my complaints.” You shrug. “But nothing I won’t survive.” Probably.

Tina takes a sip of her coffee, continuing to nod. She wants to dig deeper into your thing, you want to dig deeper into hers, but the painful groaning from the front of the kitchen, “And when did I fuckin’ greenlight this?” interrupts both your trains of thought. Uncle Jimmy tends to have that effect.

With a knowing nod, you walk together to the front, leaving Ebra and Cheech to continue experimenting with the coffee machine before they open their side of the restaurant. 

You watch from the sidelines as Carmen defends his choices, “The old one was shit, she was burning her hands on it. She’ll need the three groups to keep up.” and you’re able to quickly glean they’re talking about the new espresso machine.

“Okay, I hear that,” Jimmy nods, “but why the fuck did it need to be ten grand?”

“Ten?!” You can’t help but shout, you slap your hand over your mouth. Budget is none of your business. But fucking ten? You part your fingers to mumble through your hand,  “Sorry, continue.”

Carmen cares too much about your drink menu. Berzattos tend to invest too much into your special interests. Though this time, instead of syrups, and in addition to a 10k coffee machine, you see on the stainless steel table your shared sketches laid out alongside all the ingredients needed– Including the concentrates, whips, and other compounds Carmen made ahead of time for you. He’s so sweet. God, you love him. God, that’s disgusting. They have all, of course, been haphazardly shoved aside though, to make room for The Computer’s— Computer. Carmy’s nonplussed by that fact, it seems.

Jimmy gestures to you, deadpanning to Carm. “See, Chip understands the power of the dollar.”

“I’m not involved.” You add, waving your hand, it’s a terrible moment for your favouritism to shine through. Though you do enter the radius of this trainwreck of a quarterly review, kneeling down by the kitchen island to finish what you started with the plexiglass and hinges. “Ignore me, continue.”

The men stand on either side of you, as you bolt down the hinges. Carmen brushes off the dollar comment with a simple, “It’s the best.”

Why do you need the best? You think; Jimmy concurs with your brain, speaking for both of you. “Why do you need the best?”

The question seems to make no sense to Carmen. He freezes, blue-screening. “Cause—”

You duck your head under the counter at just the right moment— Or just the wrong moment? Because you don’t get to see Carmen looking down at you, then back up at his uncle. “Because.” 

You don’t see Uncle Jimmy practically roll not just his eyes but his entire body back into himself, witnessing the puppy love that is going to ruin his credit score. “Chip…”

When you slide yourself out from under the counter, Carmen puts his hand on the edge of the counter to make sure you don’t hit your head— Because you have an awful tendency to do so. You’re too focused on the way Uncle Jimmy says your name like you’re in trouble to notice though. “What’d I do?” 

“You’re you.” Jimmy grimaces, shaking his head. It’s not your fault. Not completely. “F-Y-I– Your boss just cut your bar budget by ten grand.”

“Hm.” You squint, lips in a line. “And what do I do if the budget I was planning was just ten grand?”

“Well respect yourself more than that.” Cicero scoffs, arms crossed. “Take twenty, now you’re back to ten. You’re welcome.”

“Generosity knows no bounds.” You shake your head, laughing him off as you duck your head back under the counter. “Thank you, Unc.”

“Sorry, who exactly are we giving twenty thousand?” 

“Oh fuck—” Despite Carmen’s best efforts, you still manage to bump your head on the roof of the counter, alarmed by the new voice— The Computer, you assume. “Fuckin—Ow— Sorry! Y’know what, hol’ on, let me just finish up here—”

“It’s the drink budget. Tony’s the new mixologist.” Natalie answers for you. “And sommelier.”

“Ah,” hums The Computer. “She’s the one we’re paying Quarter-Master for?”

“Nah, that’s me.” Gary strolls by, calling out to wherever his manager has gone, “Richie, you find that book yet?!”

“I’m taking them too!” You finally pop your head out from underneath the counter, finished bolting in the hinges. “Apparently I need actual W-S-E-T certification and a bunch of memorized google searches, youtube videos, and wine review blogs do not legally make you a sommelier.”

“I think it’s impressive you made it this far on basically nothing.” Syd taps the top of your head, she’s the one who made the call on schooling. She looks to her co-owner. “Classes are coming out of the advanced.”

“So is this.” You tap the plexiglass, nodding up to Carmen as well. “You’re workin’ with like… A thousand left for pre-paid work?”

“Hm.” Carmen nods, looking at The Computer, and you turn your head to him too. “Did you account for that?”

“Did I account for a thousand dollars?”

Carmen shakes his head like a white flag immediately, hearing the sarcastic tone, “Alright, you don’t—”

“A thousand dollars does not take you out of the hole, man.” He’s right, but you don’t love the tone. He tilts his head, reading something off his screen. “Payroll is a little high, for a somme.”

“I don’t disagree—” You try to say, because yeah, your contract does have a weirdly high salary.

But Jimmy, Nat, and Carm all speak over you. “It’s not.”

“That’s not pay for a somme, that’s a pay for Chip, you don’t need to enhance on that.” Jimmy deads the topic then and there. “You’ll see. Just trust me. You were sayin’ somethin about tiny plants?”

“Microgreens.” Says Syd. 

“Yes. Do less of that.”

And you just watch, from the sidelines, as this crew flows into a bit of a repetitive we’re doing this, which gains the response, well stop. Do less, charge more, figure it out, duh, don’t duh– What’s that you’re hearing about a daily changing menu? Carmen seems to be the only one campaigning for it. At a point he just starts pacing, pointing at numbers on The Computer’s screen that he doesn’t understand but pretends he does.

You’ve got a million ideas, but it’s none of your business. It very literally isn’t your business, until Jimmy turns his head just so, grimacing at the non stop debate, to see you standing aside, arms crossed.

He sighs, beckoning you to the table, like it’s a witness stand. “What’s that fuckin’ face on your face, kid?” Oh, for the love of God, why are you so easy to read?

You pfft, shrugging. “I’m not makin’ a face—!” But you come forward nonetheless as he boldly speaks over you. 

“You’re makin’ a face,” — “This is just what I look like,” — “Y’know how I know you’re makin’ a face?” — “Enlighten me.” — “Cause it’s the same fuckin’ face—”

He takes this moment to point at the face on your face. “That your dad makes.” A man that gambles as well as Cicero is a man that knows your dad’s tells. And a man that knows your dad’s tells is a man that knows your tells. 

You bite down on your inner cheek, poorly pretending to be confused, shrugging again, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come off it.” “I’m not on anything, Unc—” “You’ve got a problem, say it.” 

“I don’t have a problem!” You have a lot of problems, but they can’t know that. That makes you judgy and pushy— You don’t know enough about the business to have an opinion. “I’m just observing, that’s all.”

Uncle looks up, to Heaven, to Mikey, and sighs the world’s heaviest sigh. It sounds painful. When he finally tilts his head back down to you, it’s to say, “C-K.”

“Cicero.”

“Y’know why I’m able to pour mas queso into this fuckin’ kid?” He loosely gestures in the direction of Carmen, who in response seems to bite down a lot of venom. It’s bad to think he’s pretty when he’s annoyed, isn’t it?

You tilt your head, “Honestly, I always assumed some sort of mob association.”

Jimmy holds back his laughter, it comes out as a disgruntled cough. He shrugs. “It’s because when I saw your dad at the table, makin’” —He gestures to you— “That fuckin’ face, I knew to pull back.”

“You don’t need to pull back.” Your reply is a touch too panicked and instant for anyone’s liking, makes it a little less believable. But Cicero smirks, and you know that face as well as he knows yours. Check. He’s got you. 

“Then speak on it.” And he pushes you forward, just slightly, like a slap of support on your back. You grimace, looking to Carm and Syd for permission to have opinions, and they both nod, like it’s obvious. With great hesitation, lips pressed together, you finally allow yourself to come off as judgy, opinionated, a fixer. 

“I think the chargers are kinda stupid.”

A plate no one eats off of, that they still have to clean, that’s on top of another plate? Definitely super necessary. Definitely not some rich people NOMA bullshit.

You look to Syd, apologetic. She shrugs, open mouthed, head tilted, “I– I mean, I didn’t invent them.” 

“It’s presentation.” Carmen nods, to himself. He doesn’t like to budge. “That first look at the table affects everything.”

“Yes.” You nod, directly across the counter from him. “I agree, I just think the plates are stupid.” 

“You got somethin’ better?”

“Think so.” You hum, tilting your body back to yell to the back of the restaurant. “Ay, Cheech! Pass me a fuckin’ basket!” 

It’s without hesitation that you hear, “Hut!” before even seeing the man. You see the blue basket being hurled towards you before you see the man. You catch it, albeit a bit clumsy, but you catch it. 

You toss the basket on the table. Everyone stares. You defend yourself before anyone even criticizes it, “Easier to clean than plates, because you just need to rinse the plastic. Ties together a colour scheme, costs nothing, they’re gonna be tossed anyways.”

“It looks cheap.” Carmen tuts, but he really does seem to be trying to hear out the idea, despite his reservations. 

“It looks purposeful.” You double down, leaning on the counter just so, “It carries a story, that we didn’t forget where we started.”

“Ooh.” Marcus, clocking in just in time, hums behind you. “Kind of a bar, Chef.”

“Thank you, Chef. Morning, Chef.” You fist bump him over your shoulder, not looking. Too focused on convincing the man before you, you let him think in silence for some time before asking. “Think on it?”

“No.” Carmen shakes his head, and you’re a little crestfallen, for a second. “It’s good. Let’s do the baskets, yeah—” He then remembers to ask for permission, he turns his head to Syd, “Yeah?”

“Yeah? Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah. Baskets are good.” Syd nods to Nat. “Can you look into, uh—”

“Returning the expensive as fuck earthenware shit? Happily.” Nat is far too cheery upon receiving a paperwork rabbit hole of a mission. She brushes past you, excitedly whispering, “Please keep going.”

“Oh, uh—” Are you some sort of thought leader now? “Well, uhm, I think I heard you sayin’” —You snap your fingers at The Computer, “That R and D cost is a little high?”

“A lot high.” He corrects.

“Kid with crayons.” Jimmy tuts, “Need to pull back a little.”

Carmen’s screwing and unscrewing the cap of a mason jar— Marmalade, it’s for Syd’s drink. He made it this morning, it’s labelled down to the minute.  Just let him work on his fucking drinks menu, please God. He’s been dying for this moment and it’s being thrown off by this bullshit. 

He can’t keep biting his tongue, “Hey, uh, why don’t you just tell us to do everything a little bit less so we can skip this and get back to work, huh?”

You hear Uncle Jimmy inhale as preparation to verbally beat Carmen’s ass. You put one hand up in front of the old man’s face, the other hand grabs a dry-erase marker. “He didn’t mean it like that and he apologizes, Unc.”

“Does he now?”

“He does.” You drop your hand, focusing on lifting the glass panel, clicking the locks in place to keep it up. You nod to Carmen through the pane. “Right, Carmy?”

Poor Carmen nearly deflates, “...I’m tryna be the guy.” 

“Not what the guy does, baby boy.” You hum, uncapping the marker with your teeth. You turn your head to Cicero. “Guy had a lapse, he forgot you were his boss and just thought of you as family, so he spoke to you like family, cause he loves you, Unc.”

Cicero nods, tilting his head just so at Carmen. “S’that right?”

Carm manages to shake his head and nod all at the same time, “S’a facet.” 

“....Well, just don’t do it again.” A crisis is averted and an uncle is softened. 

“I love to see a family come together.” You hum, nonchalant, writing on the glass, ‘R & D - Cost: Bad’

“Bring it from bad to good.” The Computer notes very helpfully. “You can cut—”

“Hol’ on.” You put your index finger up, effectively shushing him, “Just think about it first. We don’t have to go straight to cutting. Let’s look at our options.”

“Your options are fucked.”

“Just—” You tut, rubbing the bridge of your nose, man, you really are becoming your dad right now. Loosen your grip, Jack. “Widen the scope. We cut costs through returning those chargers— How else can we ‘return’ shit? Carmy?”

Thank God you’re the guy, because Carm can’t hack it. “Heard? Yes?” And frankly, he doesn’t want to.

“What’s the main cost on R and D?”

“Supplies. Food— Y’know, lot of trial and error.” He nods to a bus tub filled with failed attempts over this morning’s session. But you like that, right? “Trying new things, y’know?”

“...Carmen.” He doesn’t answer, because he can hear he’s in trouble. He is staring at you stare at the tub in what seems like a sort of contemplative, serene, searing anger. “Sweetheart, are those four wagyu filets in a fuckin’ bus tub?”

“Yes, it’s got a blood orange reduction, but– But Syd suggested mint—” 

You don’t let him finish, “Is it poison?”

“It’s not.” “It’s edible?” “It is.” “Okay, so then, babydoll, why is it not being eaten?”

Syd winces from the sidelines, hissing under her breath, fist over her mouth. Carmen cannot help but notice. You’re perhaps… a dash upset.

“We can’t eat everything.” “Did you offer it to the crew?” “Yeah—” “You offered it to Nat, Unc, Cheech— All the servers? Or did you just offer it to the cooks?” “...Heard.” “Did you take a bite of all of these?” “Not all.”

You start writing on the glass again, explaining as you do, “Okay. So then uneaten food from R and D should be sold on one of those fuckin’ food waste apps— Too Good to Go, or somethin’. We advertise it to The Beef regulars, try to get the other side of our city to understand the finer things, prevent any brick through window incidents, how we feel ‘bout that?”

You remember small things far too well. You did make note of the rich people shit getting on The Beef customers' nerves. You make note of the people who live on your block, who cannot afford to eat here. You make note of the fact that Carmen resents subtracting with a passion now, so you find another way. He can still try new things, just needs to handle the results better. 

“...You keep a binder or somethin?” Is all Carmen can think to ask. 

“Steel trap memory.” You tap the cap of the marker to your head, “Good though?”

He nods, “Good.”

“Good.” You take a breath, dragging a hand down your face, practically coming out of a fugue state. Carmen knows your need to have something to do, just as much as him, so he slides the jar of fig marmalade to you from across the table. You take it happily, unscrewing the lid. You’ve also been dying to get to this menu.

But Richie comes up from behind, scratch and sniff wine book in hand— Didn’t Mikey get you that? It  was meant to be a gag gift but it’s actually quite useful. “Chip, can you also tell Chef Carmen the daily menu fuckin’ sucks?”

“Re-lax.” You sigh, pulling over all the ingredients and tools you need for Syd’s drink. “Syd told me ‘bout this though, daily pre fixe, or whatever it’s called?”

“It’s—” Carmen crosses his arms over himself, immediately defensive but trying his best not to be. “It’s an idea I’m floating, for now— It’s what the best restaurants do, and— And even if we don’t have full intent on getting a star, right now, it’s still important.”

“I just think…” You hum, trying to figure out the most delicate way to say it. “It doesn’t exactly give you the most room to collaborate or create—”

“The whole point of it is to collaborate and create—”

“Oh yes,” —As if waiting in the wings for this, Richie pops out behind you again, “What wasssit? ‘Vibrant Collaboration’ and ‘Constantly Evolve Through Eating My Own Head like a fucking ouroboros’.”

“Relax.” You hiss this time, putting a hand up in front of Richie. You can speak for yourself. “You don’t have time to be creative or collaborate when you’ve gotta make decisions in less than twelve hours.”

Carmen tries to defend, he gestures to the one good plate of wagyu with mint that came out of this morning, “But the—”

You nod and hum, knowingly. The sweet sound stops him. You already know the answer, but you ask anyway, as you scoop fig marmalade into your cocktail shaker. “Did you get to try the pop rocks thing yet?”

“Well, no, it’s not viable to perfect that in such—”

“A short amount of time, angel?”

“Oooh…” Richie mimics Syd’s movements, air whistling between his teeth as he takes a sharp breath. He gestures, standing behind you, staring at Carmen as he slides his thumb across his neck. He mouths, ‘Mad mad.’

Carmen’s two closest friends are freaking him the fuck out and one of them wasn’t even doing it on purpose. How do they know that? How can they tell that? Are you gonna break up with him? Are you even dating? This work together thing was a terrible idea—

“You don’t have time to be thoughtful about things, if you do an entire menu every day, you’re gonna have to cut corners on what you’re willing to experiment with.” You reword, more productive, better for his brain. “Plus, prix fixe is a fuckin— In—In my opinion, is sort of a lacking idea, maybe, for a new restaurant.”

Carmen’s willing to give up the daily rotation, he’s not so willing to give up the pre fixe. “It’s what the best restaurants do.” Carmen loves the word best, huh?

“Have those restaurants—” You bite your tongue from what was going to be an immediate catty response.

You try again, measuring out orange liqueur and lemon juice as you do so. “You’re thinking like a Chef and you need to think like a customer— A- A guest, for a second.”

Carmen gives you the floor, mostly because he cannot compute the command. You continue, “Let’s do a little roleplay, alright? Let’s say we’re just average people, not workin’ at The Bear, and we’re goin’ on a date.”

“When?” “...When?” “When is the date?” “No, I’m— It’s— This is hypothetical.” “Yeah but in the hypothetical.”

You shrug, clicking tongs together as you grab large chunks of ice for your shaker. “I dunno, Friday nights? We have like a Friday night date night.”

“Oh, so you’re doing good.” Richie hums, proud of this hypothetical you, “Weekly date night is a cornerstone.” 

“Moving on.” You elbow Rich behind you, shaker sloshing in hand, “I’m not a foodie, you are— In this hypothetical. You’re looking around at restaurants in the area for the date, you find The Bear— You find through their website with an improper hyperlink that the menu is,” —You list off on your free hand— “prix fixe, unavailable online, and changes daily so you can’t go off of reviews either. Also, it’s a new place, so you can’t really ask around for opinions.” 

“Right.” Carmen nods, as does Syd. Uncle Jimmy’s got that stupid smirk he gets when he sees his kids fall in line. You pour the ouzo over the ice, focus on the drink, not Carm’s mopey expression. 

“So, we probably wouldn’t go, right?”

Carmen keeps nodding, eyes downcast— Not upset, just can’t take feedback without keeping his head down. “Prob’ly not, yeah.” 

You pound the shaker shut, shaking it lightly in one hand as you try as hard as you can to sweetly explain. “People are open to like, two surprises on an outing. New place, new food— But they will need a set menu and they will need to have it available beforehand— And they’ll need to be able to choose.”

He looks like a cat in the rain, so you add, “But. Maybe we can do a daily special? Or weekly, depending on burnout, but like, y’know, a semi-frequent one new thing. And maybe on like, Valentines or some holidays we do a fresh prix fixe. That’s how some of the best places do it.”

Carmen’s eyes upturn, smiling with them, at that last part. “You do keep a binder.”

“Syd does. I just pay attention.” You shake your head. “She mumbled about it all night when we got back.” 

Adamu is immediately aghast, she should’ve realized ages ago, you were practically quoting her. “You said you couldn’t hear me!”

“No, I said you weren’t bothering me, and you weren’t.” You can’t hide your smile as you break the seal on the shaker. Syd sucks at sharing her ideas, but you’re happy to act as a good mouth for her good brain. “Hand me a lowball.” 

With a grumble, Syd walks off in search of  the lowball; while everyone does seem to agree this is best practice, Carmen does still seem a little sore about it.

“It’d probably also serve us well to do a seasonally rotating menu, right?” And so you throw him a bone. “Like Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall? Base it on what’s in season with local vendors?”

“What grows together goes together.” Tina says, nearly sing-songy. “Farmer’s market is rough though, Jeff.” 

“Fuck a farmer’s market— With love, fuck a farmer’s market.” Back to writing on plexiglass you go. “We gotta do vendors, maybe f’ like, eggs and dairy we can do farmer’s market, but it’s just not feasible. Maybe for holiday pre fixe or daily specials? But full stock, it’s just not— It’s not it. And I say that while having farm fresh eggs and local honey in my pantry, alright?”

Carmen agrees, like a bobble-head this guy. He nods to Tina. “That cool with you, T?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool with me.” Tina is a millisecond off to pipe in, which is really not noticeable– To anyone but you, that is.

“Why’s— Why would T not be good with that?”

“She’s in charge of farmer’s market.” 

“Hm.” You bite the end of the dry-erase marker. “T, would you be cool with rotating that, now and again?”

“Ooh?” She tilts her head, shrugging, “Yeah, yeah, kid. If you wanna take the reins.”

“Not me.” You return to scribbling on the glass board. You point at Carmen and Syd through the glass. “Them.” 

“I’ve paid my sous chef dues.” Says Syd, returning to the table with your glass. You tut, shaking your head. You refocus your vision from your writing to beyond the plexiglass, at them. 

“You need it for inspiration! You fuckers keep forgetting you like cooking, I need you to visit the farmer’s market once in a while to remind you.” You take the lowball glass and tong a few ice cubes in. “Non-negotiable. Heard?”

A soft, simultaneous, “Heard, Chef.” from your cats. 

“Good.” You strain the mixed concoction out of the shaker, into the lowball glass. It’s a very pretty peachy pink. You tweezer a slice of dried fig and place it on top. You grab a toothpick, stick it down the glass, pull it out, and taste the toothpick. Balanced, solid flavour, should be good.

You slide the drink over to Syd. “I can’t drink everything obviously, so first dibs goes to whoever the drink is based on— I don’t care who drinks it, just let me know if it goes down smooth.”

You also in turn hand Syd the recipe card and sketch, and you’re quick to move on as she reviews and sips away.

Ouzo. Dry anise tasting spirit. It’s got a licorice aftertaste, but oddly sweeter for it. It’s strong. Resilient. It’s made from remnants of unfermented wine grapes and a mix of other distilled and unused spirits. Better than the sum of its parts. It goes well with figs. Muddle it together with fig marmalade— Sweet yet earthy, spring-like. Orange liqueur to marry the flavours, lemon juice to brighten. Shaken, pour over ice into a lowball, serve with a dried fig on top.

Syd manages to reserve her reaction to a slow but repetitive nod, like entering deep space. She only comes back to reality when Richie reaches for the drink, wanting to try. She’s quick to pull it away from him, coveting the glass. 

“Ah… what else? Rapid fire.” You knock your head around, remembering what The Computer talked about, and in quick succession, you line up every problem and talk through them, possibly solve them— As best as a newbie can. At the very least, you open the floor to actual discussions as you make drinks all the while. 

“Opening a full sixth day I think will shoot us in the long run, especially if we ever get a kitchen plague going. Maybe we just open for half the day on Mondays going forward, try out breakfast? Stop booing me, I’m right.”

Richie’s. Also served over ice in a lowball. It’s similar to a whiskey smash. Nixing the mint. Whiskey bourbon— A good one, but not too good that it’s a sin to mix. Something with a cinnamon spice, that's warm all the way down, but never burns. Water it down a bit by stirring peach juice over the whiskey with ice for a brief moment. Float blueberry syrup on top. Add a toothpick, spearing two blueberries and one peach halve, balance it over the glass, for stirring. So the drinker can mix the blueberry syrup in and have a cute colour changing experience. 

“Wine pours, me and Gary got that. We can also just start charging by the bottle by default— Whatever works.” 

Marcus’. Simple but effective. A rum and coke ice cream float. Made complex by the fact that the ice cream is on a rotating schedule, based on whatever Chef Brooks is feeling that night and what’s in stock. Right now? Pistachio. So tonight it’s actually rum and seltzer, and it will probably continue to be rum and seltzer, based on the way Marcus’ eyes light up by the opportunity to get weird. More often than not, you’re going to need that neutral base. Served in a milkshake glass, because what else?

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t just grow these microgreens myself in house. They’re just plants you murder early, are they not? Am I missing something?”

Tina’s. Varied take on a spiked agua fresca. Fresh blended mango agua fresca— With ginger, of course. A healthy kick is a necessity for a mom drink. Sweetened with simple syrup, spiked with white rum, dash of agave bitters, top with coconut water. Served in a tall glass, because why would you skimp on portions?

“Why are we shipping flowers from New York? No, fuck that, go to Violet’s Violets— I fixed her cooler once, she falls in love and gives a discount to literally anyone who’s nice to her. Just send Marcus with some dessert and you’ll be set for life.”

And of course, Carmen’s aperol spritz. You go with the cherry syrup rim for now because it’s important to try. You’re almost certain it’s too much though.

“Napkins…” You rub your icy cold hands— From shaking up so many goddamn drinks— Over your eyes. “Why are we renting?”

“Buying is insanely overpriced.” Answers Computer. 

You nod, shrug, but nod, fingers tapping the glass, “Well, it’s like renting over owning right? It might be better to own because, y’know, you might suddenly get told by your napkin vendor, like, like years down the line, after basically paying for these napkins in full through rent, ‘hey, actually, we’re gonna jack up prices or just take those napkins back’ even though you’ve —again— Literally had them for years—”

“Chippy, are you good?” Richie tries to massage your shoulder, tries to break you out of the doom spiral, but admittedly, it was never his forte. Still isn’t. 

“We—!” Your voice hangs and is grating in a way it usually isn’t, ignoring the question. “We can produce our own napkins if we buy linens by the yard and hem ‘em ourselves. We—” You snap your fingers a couple times at Carmen, praying he backs you up. “We can even get The Bear monogrammed on them.”

“That sounds nice…” It’s Carmen’s turn to ease you off the ledge of insanity, gently. “It also sounds expensive, were you gonna do that?”

“Fuck no.” You’re quick to shake your head. “I fucking suck at sewing, my own jumpsuit is covered in my blood— No, my—” Oh. “Hold on.”

Your hand immediately goes for your back pocket, quickly pulling your cell-phone out, and dial one of your first starred contacts. Richie, over your shoulder still, sipping his blueberry and bourbon cocktail, excitedly mumbles. “Oh, put it on speaker.”

You’re annoyed before he’s even answered, knowing the headache you’re about to get. “Trust me, the first thirty seconds minimum will not need—”

“Hey!” It’s impossible to convey how earth shatteringly loud and drawn out his voice is, immediately upon answering. There may be eight seconds of the sustained vowel? Maybe more. Almost everyone flinches, par for Syd, Carm, and Rich. Though for all different reasons. 

A touch grating, in the same way your voice just was. Like father, like occasional daughter, you suppose. “Hey kiddo baby darling sweetheart angel princess—” Oh, he’s mad. The whole ‘slew of nicknames when you’re pissed off’ thing? Yeah, that didn’t start with you. “Did someone die? Because that’s the only reason my darling baby only daughter calls anymore!”

You sigh, immediately exhausted, putting your weight on one leg. “Y’know, once a month is honestly a lot of times a year for a fully grown woman to call their dad, on average. I absolutely call you more than my friends call their dads.”

Richie almost chokes and whispers over your shoulder, hesitant, internally preparing for a dreadful future. “Please tell me that’s not true.”

“Oh, and you should be so lucky that you have a dad to call! Cause I bet those friends are calling funeral homes, aren’t they?!”

“Dad—”

“I should have never taught you independence. Worst mistake of my life to teach you how to be your own person. Richard, never teach your kid how to use a screwdriver, it will be the last day you are a father.”

“Noted, Big C-K.” Richie goes for your dry erase to actually write it down, you pull it away from him. That’s gonna require a long talk down later. 

Carmen mouths to you, across the table, he meant to ask earlier when Cicero said it but there wasn’t time. ‘C-K?’

You mouth back, gesturing to the logo on your very own flannel ‘Chicago’s Kindest.’ He’s not the best with acronyms. 

“Oh— And thank you for bringing that up! And what’s this I hear about you cutting your hours with C-K? I hear this from Tony of all people ‘fore I hear it from you?”

“I got a long-term bartender gig that’s actually gonna keep my bills paid, alright? And I like it. Putting that mixology double trade major to good use. Cicero’s got stock in the place, actually.”

“How you doin’ C-K?” Cicero pipes in next to you, waiting for his moment.

“Ah… I’ve got my complaints. For one, my Jack keeps you more company than me!”

There’s a series of hums and haws, that weird uncle secret language of heavy exhales that manage to say more than any actual words they could say. 

You let the heaving run its course for ten seconds before cutting it short with, “Anyways, I’m still gonna keep the business running, just only in the mornings. It’s not like I brought in that much business anyway, I’m not pulling a foundation.”

“Everytime a small business dies, a rich man laughs, Jack!” 

“It’s not dying! It’s alive! It’s present and alive!” Don’t get flashbacks. “Anyways, speaking of small businesses, I need a favour—”

“Ooh, the truth comes out, princess calls cause she needs bail—” 

“For the love of God, let me get through a sentence, Pops!” You grumble, continuing. “Remember that overpriced monogram machine you bought for no reason?”

“It was not for no reason, it was invaluable because it saved my mitts from hand embroidering all those logos— And and— you have to remember—” You mouth the words along with him, mimicking him, because you know exactly what he’s going to say, “that it all starts in your community— And now you have like eight beautiful outfits, cause of me… And also it’s fun.”

“Well… If it’s fun, would you consider making some linen napkins?”

And it flows like ping pong, because your dad is a repairman— Well, former, but still. He’s simple. He handles negotiations simple. So do you.

“For who?” “Restaurant. The Bear.” “Why?” “Cause they need linen napkins.” “How many?”

You look over your shoulder to Richie, he does the math in his head pretty quickly, “Bout seventy to a hundred covers a night.”

“Six hundred.” “Pay?” “We’ll pay supplies, and I’ll give you like—” You look to Syd, expectantly. She has no answer, so you put your advanced on the line. “A thousand?”

“A thousand!? Less than a dollar a napkin! Is this pre-housing crisis?!” “I work here, okay?! Discount me!” “My God, princess, are you in love with the owner or something?”

That world feels like it's choking, but that's probably just you. You blow hot air out of your mouth, looking anywhere but Carmen. Refusing to see him even in your periphery. Refusing to see his blue screened but ever so slightly expectant expression. Well? Are you? …Or something?

After a long moment, you find a way to avoid the question. “Ah–Uh, Syd co-owns the place.”

“Oh, Adamu?!” 

Syd pipes in, leaning over the table. You hold the phone out for her. “H–Hey, Mr. CK.” She waves, despite the fact that it’s a phone call.

“Hey kiddo. Aw, what a sweetheart. Lead with her next time!”

“Alright!” You bring the phone back to your face— It’s remained off speakerphone this entire time, but he continues to yell loud enough for the table. “I didn’t realize you were best friends.”

“Of course we are. Y’know she brought me this uh– this salmon mushroom risotto the other night? Unbelievable.”

You squint at Adamu curiously, whispering. “You bring my dad food?”

She whispers in return, defensive. “He lives on my block, don’t be weird.”

“For her, I’ll do it for eight-hundred, okay kiddo? I know how tough it is to start up a business, can’t imagine trying to move on top of that.”

Your turn to blue screen. Moving? You’re immediately over the love thing. “...Pardon?”

“...I’ll do it for eight—”

“No– Yes, sorry, yes dad that’s great—” You arch the phone away from your face, focusing your attention on Syd. “Syd, you’re moving out?”

She sighs, “Trying to.”

“Pops.” You straighten up, not looking away from her. “I’ll call you back to sort details later, okay?”

“Sure. You also need to let me know holiday plans, are we going up to Oak Park or—”

Somewhat disrespectfully, you speak hurriedly, “Yeah, we’ll figure it out, love you, bye!” and hang up. Still locked on Syd, you ask. “When you tryna move?”

“Like, soon as possible.” She stretches out her shoulders. “My own dad is sort of… Encroaching on my space.” 

“Right.” Your eyes flicker with too many ideas, and you’re trying to temper expectations. “You wanna live by yourself?”

“I mean, I don’t really know anyone on the same timeline as me, with the same ‘low budget’ as me.”

The Computer attempts to interrupt the interruption of his review, holding a finger up, “And why are we talking about—”

But you hold the palm of your hand up, continuing on, “I need to move out asap and have a ‘low budget’.”

That’s Carmen’s queue to chime in, he loves your place. “What happened?” 

Also Richie’s, “What? Chip, your spot’s like a historical site, ya can’t move.” and this is generally agreed upon by a sea of dismayed voices.

“To make an extremely long story short, I don’t have a choice.” You wave your hand in the air, silencing murmurs. “My sweet old lady landlord— The only landlord I’ve ever respected, got bought out by a fuckin’ big business gentrification ass company— I’m not in a rent controlled zone so they’re gonna keep jacking the rent until I move out so they can tear it down and build a new spot— They also may or may not have found out that me and Loretta— My landlord— Haven’t exactly been keeping up to date on my lease.”

“Meaning?” Carmen knows the answer will be bad. 

But it’s somehow worse. “Meaning I pay my rent on time in cash and she texts me once a year saying ‘do you want to keep living here?’ and I say ‘yes’, and we continue on.”

“Well, hold up—” Richie holds a hand up, like he’s a genius. “Squatter’s rights?”

“I thought about going that avenue, but—” You gesture to Syd. “If you’re already moving, and looking for a roommate?”

She looks up and around, thinking about it. You decide to join her in the brainstorm, scooching yourself just an inch to the right, writing on free space on the plexiglass screen, ‘pros and cons’

“Pro.” You murmur as you write. “I have a better credit score than you.”

Syd sputters, half sarcastic. “Well, that’s just uncalled for.”

“It’ll give you more options for places! Better ones! Ones with in-unit laundry!” You defend.

“In-unit laundry…” “Your eyes just lit up in such a sad way.” “Con. You are an ass.”

“That’s a pro. A real con would be that I have a lot of plants and if I ever go on vacation I’m gonna need you to take care of them, and I’m not gonna have a binder for you, because I water them based on vibes, and if I come back and they’re dying I’m gonna be pissed off and very passive aggressive about it.”

“Violently honest.” “Pro. Mostly direct. Aside from when I’m not.” “Con. I’m not direct.”

“Con. That’s fine but if I get the idea that you’re mad at me I’m gonna act really weird about it until you reassure me that everything is okay and you don’t want to throw me out the window.”

“Yeah. Con. Same.”

“Pro. I’ve lived by myself for a while, which is good to have when you’re moving out of your parents for the first time. Con. I’ve lived by myself for a while, and I’m very used to the lifestyle of big t-shirt no pants, I’m not giving that up.”

Now that one takes Syd a second to unpack, “But, but like, underwear though, right—?”

“No shit I wear underwear!”

“Okay! It’s important to note!”

“Don’t be weird.” Richie grumbles behind you, solidly directed at Carmen.

Who’s whole face really just scrunches up in confusion. “‘Don’t be weird’? You don’t be weird.”

“I’m not bein’ fuckin’ weird—” “Then why are you up in my shit—” “Up in your shit? Oh wow—” “Fully not what I was referencing—” “Don’t be weird, cousin!” “I literally— I did not even move— Not a single cell in my body—” “And— And you only know that ‘cause you had to lock it down, you dog—”

“I don’t remember having kids, why the fuck am I in a Kindergarden?” Uncle Jimmy interrupts.

“I’m just takin’ care of my boy, Unc.” Richie raises a hand in defense, feigning innocence. “Can’t be too careful.”

“You super can, and you super are.” You grimace, elbowing him again. “And also, not important–!”

“Actually, no, very important.” Syd of all people interrupts. “Non-negotiable, like you can’t— …Like you— …When I’m home it’s like— Don’t—” Ah.

You roll your eyes and save her before she just about breaks out in a feverish sweat. “Syd, I wasn’t planning on it. That’s like roommate rule one.”

“Syd.” Richie points to his own eyes, then to hers, ‘watching you’. “Don’t be weird.”

“What the fuck—”

“Everyone shut up, pros and cons—!” You shout, gaining the attention back. “Pros. I have a car, we work at the same place, I have all the furniture for a living room already,  you'd never have to wait for a landlord to fix something ever again, and I could probably do a bunch of D-I-Y renter friendly projects, if you wanted.”

“...Oh my god, a French-door pantry.” “I think I could swing that.” “Pros. You’ll never have to cook again. I guess that’s my only pro, actually.”

“Con. I have been feeding the cat on my fire escape for like a year and if I’m moving I am going to have to adopt her, so we’re gonna have a cat. She’s cute, she has five toes on each paw. Something dactyl, it’s called.”

“What’s her name?” Squid’s not excited per se, but she’s not saying no. 

You shrug. “I never named her, let’s name her together.”

“No, that’s too much pressure—” “No, you’ll do great—” “What do you mean I’ll do great—?” “Three–” “Oh like together together? No! What—?!” “Shut up, just do it, head empty, two—” “No! I’m just not gonna say any—” “Yes you will, Squid. One!”

And together, perfectly in sync, like it was planned all along, you both say on queue, “Calamari!”

“There we go.” You write ‘Calamari’ on the plexiglass. “That’s my girl— That’s our girl, actually. I’m still not sure if she’s a girl.”

You click your tongue against your teeth, knocking your head back and forth in thought as you look at the scribblings on the glass. “Non-negotiables?”

Syd leans forward on the table, chin propped up in her hands. “I need forty-five minutes of bathroom time at the beginning of the day.”

“...Do you have a fuckin’ lactose intolerance?” “It’s my me time!” “Alright! Fuckin’ fifty minutes of toilet time for Syd. Ah, I need east facing windows… and uhm…”

Syd stares at you, and alas, she can tell, “You have a big non-negotiable…”

“It’s not that big… It’s more a group thing than a roommate thing, really…” “What is it?” “I think… It would be fun… If we all started playing Dungeons and Drag—” 

There’s an immediate, staggeringly loud array of groans, you’re still writing it down nonetheless, all the while defending, “I honestly think a little roleplay and math would fix you assholes! I really think it would! I’ll D-M, I’ll make it so easy— Please?”

Syd grimaces, but inevitably nods. “Y’know what, you’re never gonna get a concrete schedule for that down, and no one else is gonna agree so yes, sure from me.” Still a win. 

“Okay.” You hum, capping the marker. “So… Aim to move first of February? You down?”

It takes some time, and you realize as Syd’s brain frozen, that you might be overstepping. “Sorry, that’s going too fast, you think on it—”

“...I’m down.” You make it very easy for her to say yes, by giving her the option to say no. “Yeah, let’s do it. February. I’m down.”

“I’m so happy for you two, but I’m still fuckin’ reeling— Chippy, it’s– it’s— So many memories—” Richie’s being overly dramatic on purpose, hand on your shoulder, really laying on the vocal fry in his voice; but it is true. “I mean, come on, first time I’d ever been stabbed was on your block.”

“Sorry, what?” Carmen was having fun watching his two favourite employees figure out they’d be perfect roommates. He loves to be a fly on walls around you more than he’d like to admit. Richie managed to ruin it with one line. “Stabbed on your block?”

“Yeah,” You suck the air between your teeth, trying to think of some sort of white lie, but slowly shake your head, “I— Yeah, there’s no real way for me to down play it, I was so fuckin’ scared.”

“You were tweaking!” Richie laughs, clapping his hand against your shoulder, to him it’s a charming story— You’d probably be laughing too, if Carmen didn’t seem so… unpleased, let’s say. “You fuckin’ thought I was gonna die!”

“You fucking were!” You slap Rich’s hand away. “It was so close to a cerebral artery— First and last time I’ll administer stitches in my fucking kitchen, hand to God—”

“What’s the story?” Oh, new face from Carmen you haven’t seen before, bewildered annoyance, you’d describe it as, it’s going in your bottom five. “You live in a bad neighbourhood?”

“It’s rustic—” You try, but Richie opts to speak on your behalf. “Oh, Chip lives in a terrible neighbourhood, Cousin. You’ve been there, haven’t you?”

“Yeah but it didn’t seem that bad— No— Hold on, go back, stabbed why?”

“So I heroically defended a boy from crooked—” Richie tries, but you opt to speak on his behalf. “Richie was helping me bring up groceries, we saw some highschoolers shaking a kid down, Richie tried to break it up, one of ‘em stabbed him with one of those shitty switchblade comb things.”

“You got stabbed by a kid?” Syd snorts, but immediately regrets it because she has perfectly set him up for—

“Yeah, and wouldn’t be the last time, would it?”

“Richie, c’mon…” You reach up, patting the guy’s shoulder. “It was an accident and she apologized—”

Richie just raises his eyebrows, interrupting with a simple, “Mm-mm.” 

And so yours raise in tow, “...Fuck you mean ‘mm-mm’?” And your head turns to Syd, alarmed. “Syd, you apologized, right?”

Her mouth just sort of hangs, sputtering noises do come out of it, but nothing that strings a sentence together. You grow more agog, repeating again, astonished, nearly laughing from the shock, “Syd?! You apologized, right?! And told him it was an accident, right?”

Syd takes a beat, but she gets there. “I— I. Am. Sorry I stabbed you by accident, Richie.”

“Hm.” Richie crosses his arms, considering, mostly sarcastically. “Yeah, I’ll take it, I guess. Would’ve liked a card.”

“I am not getting you a card.” “I’m jus’ sayin’ I’d’ve liked one.”

Carmen’s still five steps behind, “Are you gonna be fine living there? In January?”

You choke back a laugh, because this is how men try to show they care, one must imagine. “I’ve been fine for the past handful of years living there, I think I’ll be fine for another month, sweetheart.”

“Crime is bad in January.”

“I was a first responder, and I know that’s not true.” You shake your head, shirking off laughter. “It’s actually in the summer that you see shit go down. Again, I will be fine. But you are free to visit.”

“Point of order.” The Computer finally pipes up again— Might’ve forgot he was here, if you’re honest. “What are we talking about anymore?”

“Point of order— I feel like numbers— Talking numbers is great but it’s all just like— Paper, y’know?” You unlatch the plexiglass, gently settling it back down on the table. “We should be talking more.”

Tina nearly whistles in agreement, nodding by your side. “Heavy that, Jeff.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’, like—” You snap your fingers to the rest of the crew, hand moving to and fro to point at everyone, “Did y’all know until right now that Syd was moving? …No, right? Let’s like— Fuckin’ remember to check in, like y’know, family, Chefs.”

And without calling her out, you can feel Tina’s demeanor next to you change, relaxed. 

“Heard, Chef.” Is the agreement from the crew, however, The Computer nor Cicero seem convinced, so with a sigh, you put on your most authoritative voice.

 “Y’know. Three Cs! Caring cuts costs!” A phrase no one has ever said, but it sounds legitimate when you put it like that. That gets them to acquiesce. 

Thank God, Marcus helps you move the conversation along, “...What’s everyone doing for the holidays?” Alas for both of you, the silence is deafening. “...Or not.”

You volley back for him, “If no one has hard plans I was thinking of having a lil’ Holiday party? Nothing big. Sort of a ‘goodbye old apartment’ party? Come by after you hang out with your families or whatever?”

“Not gonna go up to Oak Park?” Rich leans one arm on your shoulder, nursing his whiskey cocktail in the other. 

“Meh.” You shrug, attempting to push him off you, but he doubles down. “We’re not so intense about holidays since everyone’s aged. I’ll visit my nephew on New Years.” 

“I’m doin’ Eve with Eva, but I’ll be free on the day. I’ll come by. We doin’ gifts?”

“I mean I got you something, so,” You tap the bottom of his glass as Rich takes another sip, making him flinch. “Catch the fuck up.” 

Syd pipes in, sniffing. “Me and my dad only celebrate on Christmas Eve now, so I’ll come.”

“Incredible. Two down.” You gesture to Marcus and Tina across the table. “You guys? Tina I assume you’ve got a loving family and shit?”

Tina smiles and nods, rightfully proud. “I do have a loving family and shit, but maybe I’ll come by late with them too?”

And Marcus tacks on with her, “I’m gonna be with my mom most of the night, but I’ll come through for a couple hours.”

“Perfect, perfect. Invites open to any plus ones as long as you text me first!” You hum, writing names down on the glass board. It’s kind of a nightmare of different lists at this point. “Richie, can you make sure Fak and Sweeps get the invite?”

“Yessir.”

“And us!?” Shrieks Cheech in the back, who really shouldn’t be able to hear you, he should be in the zone, slinging sandwiches.

You yell back without turning to him. “Yes, fucker, you and E can come, if you want! No fuckin’ plus one for you though!”

“Oh come the fuck on, Jack-Off!”

“Oh, make me a fuckin’ sandwich, big man!”

“Oh, I’ll make you a fuckin’ sandwich!”

“Oh, my dick!” A response that makes no sense, consistently the perfect bookend. You sigh, and finally, your eyes flit to the most terrified two in the room. “Berzattos… Holiday plans?”

“I think we’re gonna do dinner on Christmas Eve, and then the morning together? Well, I am.” Sug hesitates, she’s looking between Uncle Jimmy and Carmen. “I was gonna ask what Carm’s plan is…”

“I’ll go. I’ll go.” Carmen has to stop himself from biting the skin off the tips of his fingers. “I’ll go. And I’ll come to the party, after.” 

“I’ll probably just go home with Pete after. Baby’s first Christmas, y’know.” Natalie hums and nods awkwardly. There’s a question both of them want to ask. Neither of them are brave enough to ask it. And while you can sense there’s something dancing in the air, you’re not going to overstep on this front. 

“Mazel. I can buy silly decor with reason now. …Now let’s talk about the important grievances.” You hum, happy to end that chapter.

You turn just slightly to gently slap Richie’s cheek as he stands next to you. “Rich, you need to line your beard up, this neckbeard shit is pissing me off—”

“What’s with the fuckin’ drive by?!” “It’s been on my mind forever— You can’t be wearin’ suits and then be rockin’ that unkempt shit, clean up—” “I’m clean! I’m fucking clean!” “Who said? Who fuckin’ said? Cause I sure didn’t!” “How’m I s’posed to be linin’ my shit up every mornin’—” “You do not grow a beard that fast—” “Oh fuck you, I’m not fuckin’ Carmen, I grow a fuckin’ beard.”

Carmen’s just surprised to hear his name out of any name come up. “What– Now that’s a fucking drive by, what the fuck?” 

“If we’re voicing grievances, I’d like to voice my fuckin’ complaint with Captain Crash-Out over here—” “Who the fuck is sublimating now?” “You’re not usin’ that term correctly, cause you’re not integrated—” “I thought you two worked this out on the road trip!” “We did!”

You only half regret starting this feud with the beard comment— To be fair, you’re right. “This is it working?” 

“This is, in fact, it working.” Syd confirms plainly, her disappointment more than apparent. Rubbing the tips of her fingers to her temples. The fight is out of her, at this point. 

“Alright.” You slap your hands together. “Richie, what is your complaint?” Are you just union rep now? You might be a union rep now. 

“Carmen is fucking killing me.” The cocktail swishes and nearly spills as Richie points at the Chef, emphatic. “He won’t change shit for guests!”

“No substitutions!” It’s almost cultish, the way Sydney and Carmen yell it out together. 

Richie scoffs, head reeling back. “What happened to it bein’ about hospitality?” 

“I mean…” You suck air through your teeth, squinting. “If we’re sayin’ no substitutions, it’s no substitutions— Unless it’s like an allergy or sensory thing— But even then, it shouldn’t be like a major component getting replaced.”

“See? See?” It’s almost maniacal, rabid, how delighted Carmen is that you’re on his side. “Fuckin’ thank you. This is why I lo—” 

Before Carmen can finish his sentence, Richie flails about to suddenly throw the peach and blueberry skewer from his drink at Carmen— Not the pointed side, he doesn’t want to stab the guy. Just wants to save him from running his mouth. The peach slice hits Carm’s chest as Richie stutters out, “F-Fuck you, fuck you, fine. No substitutions— What the fuck am I supposed to say then?” speaking over whatever syllables fell out of Carmen’s mouth, muddling them. 

You cock your brow, but Carmen seems to quickly let the childish toss go, more than eager to move on. So you do too. “...Say some bullshit like, like, The Bear encourages —uhm— explorative culinary experiences where you let your taste buds go beyond your limitations and comforts— So eat a fuckin’ mushroom, you’re not gonna die.”

“If they don’t like mushrooms—” “Then they shouldn’t order it!” “How hard is it to just fuckin’ switch it out!?” “So hard! So hard! I think! I could guess!”

“I could do it.”

“Could you?” You cross your arms, leaning your weight onto one leg, pivoting to Richie. “Okay, roleplay, you’re Carmen, I’m you—” Just as Richie opens his mouth, you hold your index finger to his lips. “I know you wanna be a bitch, I’m askin’ you to just skip that part for me.”

His shit eating grin is only a little endearing. “How am I supposed to be in character if I’m not allowed to be a bitch?”

You clench and unclench your hands in the air, but let it go, opting to move on to your little thought experiment. “Chef, patient—” Instincts never give out, huh? “Christ, patron doesn’t want mushrooms in their anolini, I need you to sub it.”

“Ah, well I’m happy to do that for you, Host Richie, I—” He’s going to go into some scathing spiel, and you love the guy, but you have to rub dirt in the wound for the lesson to stick. 

You speak over him, voice stern, “Chef. In order to keep pace, I need you to make this call in fifteen seconds, what are you subbing it for?”

Richie’s head shakes back and forth as he scrambles to get his brain to work.“Fuckin— Fucking– Eggplant.” 

“Eggplant?” You ask politely, tone unsure. Carmen asks it with you, tone ridiculing. 

“It’s a sauce isn’t it?” You squint, turning your head to the actual Carmen. “It’s like a really thick mushroom sauce stuffed pasta?”

He tilts his head from side to side, but nods. In gist, yes. “It’s a ragout. Low and slow cooked stew—” Carmy’s ready to rave about it and teach you every facet of the dish, but perhaps that’s too romantic for a public setting. God, he’s weird about love. “We keep it going on our back burners all day— It takes an hour minimum to make from scratch, you can’t just sub it.” 

“Yeah, well…” Richie stops himself short of getting snarky for no reason all over again, taking a second to think about it. “Well, I didn’t know that. You didn’t explain that shit to me.”

“I don’t have time to hold your fuckin’ hand—” Carmen stops short of getting catty when you give him a very soft and yet gutting disappointed look. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sniffing. “I can’t explain why I do everythin’ I do when I’m— When we’re in a middle of a rush, I just need you to trust when kitchen says we can’t do it. Trust that I thought it through.”

Richie has to control himself, has to make sure the corners of his mouth don’t upturn just slightly, has to make sure it’s not clear that he is overjoyed that there’s finally middle ground, can’t get his hopes up. He nods. “I just wanna make everyone happy, y’know?”

“I know. You’re—” Carmen’s nose scrunches up for a second, God, he’s never had to say that he think’s Richie’s good to his face. And he’s not gonna start now, “Eggplant would be a good sub, if we had time.”

Richie prods his tongue along the side of his cheek, thinking. “Maybe I could look into knowin’ restrictions faster and estimatin’ their orders, so you can have ‘em on deck?”

And Carmen does think that’d be a waste of time, but he’s learning. He hears it out. “Could give it a shot, yeah.”

“Same team.” Richie reaches across the counter, and Carmen actually takes his hand, a quick dap. Civil.

“Same team.” First time you’ve heard Carmen adopt your idiom; you can’t help but smile, though you’re trying to hide it. You’re too focused on arguably the two most important men in your life to notice the silent conversation Uncle Jimmy is having with The Computer, speaking solely through nods and exchanged glances. 

Pay is for Chip. Cicero nods, and The Computer nods back. He gets it now. Pay is for Chip. Not just the mixologist, not just the sommelier, not just the repairman, not just the not-quite girlfriend, Chip. You’re Chip. You’re the cog, the piece. The grease between everyone. 

You’re the guy. Always have been, always will be. 

The silent conversation and the warm feeling in the room is cut short though, by The Computer. “Can she deal with the butter thing?”

“What the fuck is the butter thing?” You immediately jump onto the case, when Carmen looks down and away from you, you frown, leaning in. “What’s the butter thing?”

Jimmy snaps his fingers at The Computer, he hands him an invoice, which is then handed off to you. Old Major Farms, Orwellian Butter, salted and unsalted. $11,268. You just. Stare. The math comes all too easy to your head. Worth a week? 

“It’s the best.” Carmen repeats as your eyes remain worryingly unblinking. “It’s—”

“Carm.” Syd all but hisses, shaking her head in tight swivels, waving her hand around her neck for him to cut it. “Making it worse.”

“Angel is like, the worst it can get.” Hums Richie. Recalling your barometer of anger. Recalling the times when Mikey would say ‘what’s the point of paying bills?’ And you’d have to pull him aside. “Can’t get much lower than that besides—”

“Light of my life.” You look up from the paper in your hand, and both Richie and Sydney wince. Your voice is terrifyingly delicate as you nod over to the room behind you. “Apple of my eye. Can I speak to you in your office, please?”

Carmy’d like to say no. “...Yeah.” But you already started walking before he even answered, so there’s not much of a choice here. You head in by yourself, and thankfully, the door closes behind you, so Carmen’s got a second before he gets devoured. 

He walks around the counter, and as he nears the door, Richie grabs his arm. He whispers as he hands Carmen what’s left of his cocktail. “You need to lock the fuck in.”

“I know.” Carm returns, shooting down all that’s left of the lowball. Why’s Richie’s the sweet one? Why’d Carmen get the cough syrup drink? That’s not fair. Do you not think he’s sweet? “Thank you for the— Intercept.” 

Richie nods, he’s been unwillingly playing quarterback for Carmen since going to Rockefeller and seeing that goddamn giant tree and Carmen couldn’t stop opening his big fucking mouth after seeing you under the star. “Just think with your brain, not your—”

“Don’t.” “Was gonna say heart.” “Sure.” “Don’t be weird.”

“I know it’s expensive.” Carmen gets it out before even fully closing the door behind him, “But it’s normal prices, for high-end restaurants. I know it’s different—” He stops short when he finally turns around from the closed door, to see you, holding your painting. 

It’s facing you, you’re reviewing it in your hands where you sit in the office chair; the brown wrapping paper freshly ripped and on the floor. Carmen still doesn’t know what’s on the piece. 

“Carm.” You twist the piece around in your hand, turning it to him. He can see the nine squares. The Beef to The Bear. Mikey. “This is not another restaurant.”

Carmen continues to stare, silently, though he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out to graze over the canvas. You keep going, clarifying. “We’re not just another high-end restaurant. We’re us. And so we should be doing things like us. We’re the best, we don’t need the stuff to be.”

He was with you until that last part. His pursed lips say as much.

“It’s—” You smack your lips together, haphazardly handing him the canvas, he’s very quick to grab it with both hands, not wanting it unstable for a second. “Hold on, let me show you somethin’ — I think I left one in here.”

You roll the office chair back a bit, sinking down in the seat to reach far behind a tall cabinet; you have to pad your hand around in the dark nook for quite some time before you pull out— A screwdriver. An oddly shaped one, at that.

“...Has that been here the whole time?”

You nod. “Like threeish years at least, I think I threw it back there while telling it’s origin story. It’s part of the first set I ever got.” You grip the flat wooden handle. “It’s the worst screwdriver on earth, like, by far.” 

That gets a little chuckle out of Carmen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You look up from it to him. “It’s a handmade set. Dad’s dad made it.” You awkwardly roll closer to him, he leans over, head next to your head as you both look down at it. “It’s got a flat wooden handle, made of poplar— So not only is it fucking impossible to get a good grip on, it’s also so fucking slippery. It’s part of a whole set, passed down from my grandpa to my dad to me.”

“Sounds fucked.”

“It is.” You laugh, and so does he. “It’s purposefully meant to piss you off.” You rub your thumb over the dent marks in the wood— All from the times you threw it at something— Including the very cabinet that it hid behind. “You ever wonder why I took over the handyman gig, bein’ the youngest and all?”

Carmy shrugs, glancing from the screwdriver to you. “Just assumed you were the best.”

That gets another laugh out of you, and Carmen’s overjoyed by the sound. “Yeah, I’m probably the best. But that’s only cause I kept up with it.”

You turn your head up to face Carmen again as you explain, “When our dad started bringing us to jobs as kids, he would make us exclusively use this set of screwdrivers— Sort of as a secret test. My brothers would get pissed off, as planned, and they’d quit and cry. And I dunno, I guess I’d cry and keep going? And I learned a couple tricks, eventually.”

“Tricks?”

“Like.” You pull back in the chair and run your hand across the office desk. The corners of it are screwed into the metal cabinet below it. “It’s really good if you’re screwing from the top down.” Using it as an example, you start to unscrew it. “It’s balanced. And it’s really all in the grip— Always loosen your grip with this one. Even if that seems counterintuitive.”

You get it to unscrew just fine with your loosened grip. “But if that doesn’t work, and you just can’t get it to work—” You lift the screwdriver in front of his face, showing off the sides of the handle. He smirks at the— “Just make your own grooves, it’ll be easier to hold.” Tiny teeth marks. 

“Carm.” You tap the handle to his nose as he zones in too much on it. “I’m the best repairman because I can work with anything. You’re the best Chef because you can work with anything. You don’t need the best when you’re the best.”

He’s the best? 

He’s the best. 

He’s the best. 

“I truly think you could make just as good a plate with Becel as this fucking Animal Farm butter.” 

Carmen’s the best. You think he’s the best. 

He’s gotta think with his head and not with his heart and not with anything else, either. Lock the fuck in, Carmen.

“I dunno bout all that.” He shrugs, bashful and attempting to hide it, trying to shake the praise off his back. 

“Well I know ‘bout that.” You shrug back, “I’m actually kind of a genius, when it comes to knowing who’s good and who’s not.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Carmy hums, and the sound is sweet without reservations. “...Painting is very good.” He nods to himself, on repeat, like a bobblehead. “Or I guess it’s less a painting and more a buncha photo transfers?”

“Yeah.” You set the screwdriver aside on the desk. “Most of them I took.”

“They’re good. It’s—” He pauses, tongue against his teeth. “It’s nice to see evidence he kept up, or somethin’.”

You nod, seeing Carmen’s brain struggle to keep pace in real time. “We took that one I think the day we talked to Uncle Jimmy about The Bear? Had to print out articles as proof we could make it work— Or, that you could make it work, rather.”

Carmen sniffs, crossing his arms, hands in tight fists— Probably too tight— where they hide. “Yeah, kinda fuckin’ up my end of the bargain, hm?” The light laugh that follows is hollow.

“Eh. You both did.” You smile, though it’s hesitant. “ But at least you’re still here fixing it.”

Still here. Still fixing it. That is in essence, the piece. Carmen gets lost staring at the squares, so you speak as he does. “I was trying to like. I dunno, replicate your brain.” He can see it. The messy yet coherent, controlled yet chaos. The love. The grief. The progress. The home. You see him. He can see that you see him. 

“11k for butter,” Carm’s head doesn’t move but his eyes raise to you. “Is a week. More than a week.”

Ah. Carmen can see you too, see your thought process. The Ascaso, worth one of the worst weeks of Mikey’s life. The fucking butter. Worth more than a week of Mikey’s sobriety. 

All you can do is nod solemnly. “It is, yeah.” 

He nods back, tongue prodding his cheek. “That’s too much.”

“I’d agree.”

“I’ll switch to local.” You make it easy for him to fix his mistakes, by giving him the space to realize them. 

“I think that’s the right call.” You nod, smiling. After a moment, you reach for Carmen to uncross his arms, and when he does, you take his fist and uncurl it— Your hand is a very soothing balm to the spots where he dug his nails into his own hand.

“Loosen your grip, Carmy.”

And so, he does. With a laugh and a look to high heaven, he loosens his grip. Really loosens his grip. Well— Not completely, he’s not going to say that, but he will say something that is just nearly as difficult but not quite. He'll bite down a little. He’ll make the grooves, for now, until his grip is good enough.

“Come to dinner with us?”

would you believe me if i said I had to rewrite a bit of this last scene because intially it went so rom-com and I was so disgusted when I reread it in the morning I had to stare at it in the subway ride to work like "what the fuck am I gonna do"

was this chapter good? God I hope so. I felt like with where we're going, it was kinda necessary to do Chip's onboard, set the stage for what work is like for her. I had to loosen my own grip with this one lmao. just allow myself to be a LITTLE messy. if it's bad, lie to me. tell me sweet little lies peach

DAD REVEAL THOUGH EH? MR CK!!! So much did happen this chapter. Chips on board! Squid Ink moving in together era commences! Christmas party!! Also. Would you believe me if I told you no shit syd was gonna move, she was planning it in S2, but I was planning this whole time for Ink to get evicted!! I want those fuckers to be roommates STAT!!!

anyways, i really hope i remembered to write down everyone that asked to be added to the taglist, i might've not. i'm very sorry if i didnt

oh also if you wanna be added!! send in your thoughts!! words for words baby, essay for essay cmonnn gimme ur character analysis!! (oh and also ask to be added, ofc)

@hoetel-manager , @fridavacado @sharkluver , @spectacular-skywalker , @silas-aeiou , @deadofnight0 , @sunbreathingstuff , @anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @blueaproncarmy @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @mrs-perfectly-fine @thefreakingbear @anytim3youwant

[bananathebookworm]

TLOVM S3 Eps 4-6 Ramblings

Ep. 4

Ashley is just... so good at what she does...

Hell is disgusting. I love it.

I know splitting the party is almost always a bad idea in D&D, but I really like how they've done it in this series. It helps to get through so many important plot points. (And also makes it easier on the animators to have less characters involved in each scene.)

The concentration check fail to drop their disguises is a nice touch

I like that we get more about the NPCs stories simply because they introduced things like EXU later. They expanded on lore that didn't exist when this campaign was originally played and it's really cool to see. I'm only disappointed we didn't get to see Senokir.

Loving this card game between Pike and Zerxus.

I really want Bell's Hells to go to the Hells and talk to Zerxus. I mostly just want Luis back at the table. Let him take over like Abu did.

Also the Aabria, Brennan, and Matt in the stained glass pictures while Zerxus is retelling of his friends during the Calamity is phenomenal.

"Do you want your family here?" Damn Pike. Get him.

"We all have blindspots." I refuse to believe that wasn't a deliberate reference to Ashley's show. Especially after Scanlan's reference to Phoenix Wright a few episodes ago.

I need a mini-series of Zerxus life in Hell please.

Ep. 5

Kima and Allura being badass is always a plus. I want a mini-series of their adventuring days.

I wish they had included Scanlan slaying the pit fiend with Mythcarver. It was one of the only times Scanlan used his sword and we got one hell of a cutting words song from it. And also no one but Keyleth saw his victory which would've added to the "Scanlan is not appreciated enough" story.

"Let's get weird." I love that they throw in the various player phrases too. Not just the one-liners from characters, but the actual quirks of the players at the table that span all characters.

Kaiju battle! The only thing missing is Pike's Divine Intervention punching Vorugal out of the sky.

The Magnificent Mansion baby!

Ep. 6

Chateau Shorthalt! Love it.

Okay, but the cannonball contest is one of my favourite downtime moments. I know it was probably passed over for time, but I'd love to see it animated.

Oh god, the bath scene. I knew they wouldn't pass it over just because of how everyone reacted to that moment, but I wasn't sure how they were going to do it. Welp. Here we are. Fucking hilarious as always.

I love these moments of character bonding so much. I know we can't have as many of them in the series as in the game, but it's good that they include at least a few.

Oh this scry is rough... Scanlan is not well.

Well shit. I didn't think he'd leave at that moment. Though I do like that Pike both knows and encourages it because Ashley wasn't there for this whole thing. Sam said that if she'd been there Pike would've been the only one that could've convinced him to stay. I'm really curious if we're still going to get the "What is my mother's name?" breakdown.

Are Kash and Zahra going to return? I know they were there for at least part of this lead up to Thordak.

I really love how these different battles are choreographed. I love that they can combo and support each other's abilities now that initiative order doesn't need to be tracked.

General

I'm really enjoying this season so far. So many important character things are happening both independently and as a group.

I don't necessarily love the pacing, but I also understand that condensing a 500 hour campaign into seasons that are about 4.5 hours long total is a fucking behemoth of a task. Like even if we go two more seasons, that's only 20-25 hours total. So much has to be cut and reworked to make a coherent story.

[aledethanlast]

Neil Josten arrives at Palmetto on the first week of August. The air is so thick with moisture it threatens to drown him right here in the middle of the parking lot, where the sun can bake him for the carrion.

He wants to hate this place. If he weren't sent here to play exy, he probably would. As it is, he has to settle for bone-deep suspicion, because this is too much of a good thing for his handlers to give him with no strings attached.

Neil's trolley glides smoothly across the tarmac, still black from a recent recoating. There's an expensive looking car parked right by the entrance, probably belonging to the team's coach, and Neil feels a small pang of longing for his bike. His handlers confiscated it, claiming it's "too flashy". He's pretty sure they just took it to have a hostage, in the absence of any family they could threaten.

The large door is unlocked, and the lounge within well lit. He can hear sounds from the direction of the inner court, but for now his attention comes to the large tattooed man who's face he was shown just two days ago.

Neil's considers stammering, then decides to change tacks. "Coach Wymack," he says in an American Midwest accent. Confidently, but with relief, like a lost lamb happy to find something familiar.

"You must be Neil Josten," Wymack says, pushing himself off the arm of the couch. He'd been waiting for Neil, otherwise he would have been with his players further inside. Neil meets him halfway for a handshake and overcompensates on the grip. "Haven't been to the dorms yet, then?" Neil shakes his head. "That's fine. After this I'm heading over anyway to help the rest of the team move in. You can leave the trolley here if you like."

"I'd rather it stay with me," Neil says, and gives the words an edge. Makes his gaze a dare. Wymack doesn't so much as lift an eyebrow. He just leads Neil down the hall to his office and let the desk split them apart as they sit. It's cluttered but not messy. The paper tag on the back of Wymack's swivel chair says Ikea, and Neil has a hunch it was bought on the same day as the desk.

"Was the flight in alright?" Wymack asks.

Softball question. "Oh, I didn't fly in. I was already in North Carolina so Dave just dropped me off here."

"Dave being David Browning, your parole officer."

Neil nods. "He said you've met already?"

"Briefly." He sits back, considering Neil. Unsure what the man is looking for, he considers Wymack back. "What's your story, kid?"

Neil doesn't hesitate. He didn't spend the past two days hammering out his cover story to stumble right out the gate. Step one: don't actually tell him the story. "How do you mean?"

Wymack reaches past his computer speakers to slap a thin file between them. "There are three pages in this file. One has your description and basic the medical history from your time in juvenile detention. Attached to that is your audition CD. The next two pages are instructions for your parole and what allowances I can give you within them."

He pushes the file aside. "Needless to say, there's absolutely nothing in here I can work with."

"They could've sent you more."

"Yes, but they can also lie to me."

"I can lie to you."

"But if you lie to me first I can choose to believe you anyway."

The basis of a good cover is to mix it in with enough facts that the answers feel natural. So when Neil rolls his eyes like he thinks this whole thing is stupid, it's because he really does think this whole thing is stupid.

Nevertheless. "Parents were assholes so I left home. Got caught burning some shit—"

"What kind of shit?"

"I think it was a bank. Anyways, went to juvie in Arizona, warden was a bitch so I got transferred to Colorado, warden got sick of me so I transferred to North Carolina, warden figured giving me parole is easier than transferring me to prison when I hit 18."

Technically, all of those points were true. The lie lay in the omission.

The bank he'd burned down was in Belize, but when the British caught him getting off the boat in Honduras they were actually expecting someone else.

Arizona and Colorado were little more than couple-week bookends on a two-year string of assignments in the Balkans. Then it was Singapore, which he'd turned into Israel, and THEN he got shipped off to North Carolina.

Wymack nods along. "So why are you really here?"

"To play exy," Neil says sarcastically.

"Alright, let's try again: what is the FBI looking for, that you think is minor enough to be worth playing snitch?"

"They think there's a tie between exy and organized crime." Which is true, and Nathaniel is living proof. "Which is obviously the dumbest thing I've ever—"

"No, it's true," Wymack says, flipping a cool penny into the rails of Neil's train of thought. The crash is magnificent.

"You can...prove this?" His mind splits down two tracks: one, how quickly can he get this assignment over with and get the hell out of here. Two, how long can he drag this assignment out before his handlers become overbearing.

[ashysmultifandomcatdump]

trying my best to make out what the storybook fourteen is reading says so that you don't have to

last night after the subscriber special came out i spent an hour and a half trying to read and type out the contents of this book!!! i got most of it but there's still parts i couldn't read due to lighting esp towards the end so if anyone has been able to read those parts please let me know!!!!!!

A NEW SYMBOL

At the beginning of this story are two symbols: Addition and subtraction. For the longest time, that's the only thing numbers knew. I'm not exactly sure how the numeral species took so long to discover anything outside of those two symbols. Maybe they were content with what they had already— Maybe they were just stupid.

Anyway, back to the story at hand. Actually, no. We need to go a bit deeper here, I think. First graders learn about multiplication and division. How were they just unable to figure this out? It's really not that hard. I'm just being honest, here. Why should anyone be interested in this "tale" when it's predicated on such an unbelievable premise? An entire population of sentient, powerful beings and not a single one of them could come up with an array? They're literally numbers, for crying out loud! I just feel like they could've figured this out earlier, I guess.

Whatever, quick recap, the numbers only knew about addition and subtraction for a long while. They had a lot of fun adding into each other and all that. They really liked it.

Multiplication, which is really just doing addition multiple times in a row, (Think about it, four multiplied by three is just adding four together three times. Isn't that cool), was discovered shortly after. There were some problems with it, and there still are some problems with it. A lot of numbers don't really mess with multiplication anymore. Every single time they try to, something ends up going wrong. It's not fun! Addition is fun. Well, I find it quite boring, but they find it fun.

Division, however, stayed a mystery for the longest time. Which, it bears repeating, is absolutely unbelievable. Division is quite literally just opposite multiplication.

Remember when I said multiplication is just addition multiple times in a row? Well, division is just subtraction multiple times in a row. Again, shocking that it took them so long to figure this out. I can imagine the moment now.

A lot of the time, the stupid people among us tend to have the best ideas. A lot of great ideas are unsaid just because they sound stupid. Like, imagine being all smart and educated in the 1500's and suggesting the idea of electricity. Oh, wow, magic beams from the sky can power gigantic and complex machines! Get out of here, man. But that's actually how it works! So I don't really know what happened, but we can probably guess that someone stupid— 9 or 7— brought up the idea of "reverse multiplication." I'm not sure. Maybe those two weren't even alive. I'm not exactly sure why I was the one to pen this history into the annals of time. I really do not know a single thing about what actually happened.

Anyway, let's say all the numbers were just sitting around, having a lot of fun, and playing on the seesaw. 9 walks in after a visit to the local multiplication symbol. She has a weird thought in her head, and she confidently brings up the idea of division. She's laughed at and made to feel very, very dumb. Little did they all know, however, that the idea of division is very, very real. It had just been forgotten about. More on that later.

THE POWER

The division symbol is theorized(?) to be extremely powerful, giving [??] leftward [????] the power to split themselves into multiple parts. The amount of parts the leftward number splits into is equivalent to the value of the rightward number in the equation.

The graphic below displays the basic capabilities of the division symbol. 16, being four multiplied by four, can get divided by 4 into four fours. These fours are all 16, just split up in between four different bodies. They all act like 16 and share 16's colors. This is because these four 4's are 16. 16 has disappeared due to splitting themself into quarters. Ultimately, 16 is splitting themself up. Imagine if you were split into four identical bodies— that's what happened to 16. Only in the graphic, of course. 16 is kind of a scaredy-cat, so I don't think they would be keen to split themselves up like this. Which is frankly weird to me. I think of it the same way I think of people who chicken out of riding roller coasters. Like, you stand in line for an hour and a half and watch thousands of people [?????????? i CANNOT make this out sorry]. Not a single person there. When's the last time [?????????????]? It doesn't happen! So what is there to be scared of! Do you think you're [?????]? You're not. You'll survive. Roller coasters are fun. Why are you robbing yourself of the experience?

Sorry for that, this book wasn't really the place for it. I think I could just delete it, but, um, I really don't feel like it. I got commissioned to write like at least 200 pages of this thing, and I'm kind of already running out of ideas. You saw it yourself, a couple dozen pages ago I went into a 2 page lecture about the history of devilled eggs. I literally just copied that from Wikipedia. I'm starting to think I'm not being paid for my writing ability, but just because someone was too lazy to do what I'm doing right now. Insane! This thing should be like, a pamphlet at most.

Whatever, I should probably get back on the topic at hand. The division symbol is very powerful because it allows the number to split themselves up. This is beneficial for manual labor and especially [????i don't know what that word is fighting? tighting? tichtong? what!].

Imagine how much you could get done in a day if there was a clone of you around. That's like, a basic sitcom plotline. It's relatable! The numbers, lucky as they are, get to live in a reality where this is possible. You need to lift a really heavy, wide object? Just divide yourself by two. Of course, you'd have to find 2 in order to divide yourself by them. That's really the only downside of the symbol. A lot of the smaller numbers don't like being "used" for division. They have their own lives! But yeah, division is very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, powerful.

THE LOSS

Those who ruled the numeric realm at the time were not pleased with the existence of the division symbol. You know how people say when you're alone you're weak, and when you're united you stand. Well, yeah, extrapolate that concept into this. Do you think those who enjoy power over a population of powerful numbers like the idea of them splitting themselves into a million little equally-powerful pieces? No!

So those in power really did not like the division symbol at all. Like, they really, really did not like it. Like when you walk by a group in public and they start reciting jokes you swear you saw online six years ago to each other. Like, are you that unoriginal? You think you can impress your friends by stealing other people's jokes? They aren't even that good of jokes! It's just sad, honestly, just show them the joke on your phone, or something like that.

It just really grinds my gears, honestly. So I can really imagine how it feels to be whoever ruled the land of the numbers felt. I don't really think it was justified; in fact, it was kind of evil, honestly. But, like, if I happened to have dominion over those idiots? Yeah, I probably would want to get rid of the self-destruct button they randomly found and learned how to use. Especially if there are 2 other self destruct buttons out there for them to use. I say 2 because subtraction is kind of useless. Like... It doesn't really help anyone. Multiplication and addition are pretty cool though!

So, yeah, one night the numbers were having fun, partying, and just generally enjoying themselves— as numbers are known to do. They generally liked to hang out around the division symbol, actually. They really liked it! It was probably one of their favorite things in the world. Of course, everyone had their own personal favorite thing. 9's favorite thing was his sunglasses. His old ones, the real retro ones. They had a rainbow gradient instead of a desert gradient. Doesn't that sound cool? Meh. I don't need your approval anyway. Who cares. 8's favorite thing is when all of the other numbers are quiet. What a weirdo.

So the numbers partied all night. They sang songs and danced around. Blah blah blah. At the dead of night, the last number finally decided to go to bed. Numbers sleep, by the way. I don't think they really need to? I'll be honest I know almost nothing about those things. They're kind of useless? They're also annoying.

While they were asleep, however, the evil ruler of the realm took the division symbol and removed it from its place! It's a pretty heavy symbol, so I'm actually kind of amazed that a group of people were able to just pick it up like that. As you'll see later, 2 is also able to just pick it up on their own. Isn't that insane? Like, 2, let me know your workout regimen or something. I could use a tip or two. Haha, two, 2.

Ok, back on track for real, now. BFDI season 1 is the best season. Like, by a mile! It's just so whimsical and fun and awesome. My favorite episode is episode 6, The Power of Three. What's up with 3 anyway? Why aren't they in these things? We're all thinking it, right? This is meta, lol.

For real this time, let's get back on track. The numbers woke up the next morning to find their precious division symbol gone! All that remained was the discolored patch of grass that laid under the symbol for so many years.

The numbers were shocked and horrified by the division symbol being taken. 9 cried for like, three days straight, I think. It would've been cute if it wasn't so pathetic. Like, you're an adult, man. Either way, it was still a tragedy, though. The symbol meant a lot to these freaks! And now it was gone! The fun was over! They got over it quite quickly, though. Like, I'm not kidding, they all forgot about it the literal next day. It was like it never existed. Isn't that just crazy? These things are so weird, man. Like. Gosh. Just crazy.

Leading spots where experts think the division symbol might be hidden. It's not clear why they think these spots have the most potential. But they're the experts! So listen to 'em. Also, look, map! Go obsess over what the map means or something if that's what you're interested in. Go wild!

THE SEARCH

Why am I still writing this. How many pages are even left! Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

The typography on those "blahs" is really ugly. So I'm going to stop using them to fill space. The numbers embarked on an epic search for the division symbol, but were a little too stupid to end up finding it. Who would've guessed! This is partly why I said they just forgot about it earlier. They tried searching for it, got lost, and instantly gave up! What losers! Can't commit to the simplest of tasks.

If I remember correctly, 7, the genius he is, started climbing a tree to get a good vantage point. The only [???????? the rest of the paragraph is like impossible to read]

[honestly this section and the next several paragraphs are so hard to read i can make out a few words and sentences but most of it is illegible for me it's not worth typing them out at this hour. pains me to do this but i must skip to the end...i did my best]

Last paragraph on this page, better make it count. Lalalalalalalala. Uhhh... Yeah I can't make this one count. There's really nothing to talk about with "The Search". There literally wasn't one. There's no way anyone is reading this far down. Whatever. Bye.

[mysticsparklewings]

Obscutober 2024 Day 31: Paracosm 🦄

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Paracosm (n.)

a detailed imaginary world, especially one created by a child

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Inktober is officially OVER!! 🥳YAHOO!! 🎉 

…Oh, and Happy Halloween, too. 🎃

I did my best to go out on a high note, and I think I largely succeeded…even if the results aren’t very Halloween-ish. 😅 

Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk a bit more about my general thoughts/process. ✨

Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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At long last, we end very similarly to how it all began: In a "world" of sparkle and starlight. 😉

I could wax poetic here about how glad I am to be done, but I think me just saying those words alone is plenty enough of that for tonight. Besides, if you really want to split hairs, it's not over until we do the wrap-up image you Sparklers know I usually like to do...

Anyway. I'm not sure my posting time will reflect this by the time I get done with this description, but I did start on this one early enough in the day to give myself plenty of time to brainstorm and play with the concepts a bit. Though, in fairness, I don't think I actually ended up scratching that many ideas or changing my mind all that much as I worked; I think the bulk of my time was just spent trying to figure out where to squeeze in more detail. After all, the definition does say a detailed imaginary world.

Now, I will admit that I'm not entirely sure this really evokes "world" so much as "little house," ("playhouse?") but this is very much another word I put on the list thinking it would be fun to play with in poetry format. More specifically, I was thinking of how satisfying it was to end Obscutober 2021 with "Phantasmagoria"Obscutober 2021 with "Phantasmagoria" as the final word and was hoping for a similar experience.

But as we discussed yesterday: I'm not working in poetry format this time! 🙃

So I relied on the same "Adult Coloring Book Vibes" that I was trying to channel yesterday, because when I think of trying to encapsulate a tiny imaginary world in a detailed but simple drawing, a lot of Johanna Basford's work comes to mind, particularly her book "Small Victories."

From there, a tiny house as an "easy" way to communicate this is meant to somehow be representative of a whole world wasn't a far leap of logic, so that's what I ran with.

I will also take this opportunity to point out that I deliberately drew the houses to point inward, towards the center of the mandala, to kind of go along with the idea of an "inner" world. It was also just a nice change because I somehow did not really notice until today that every other Obscutober piece I've done this month except maybe Day 7 all "point" outward in some way. 😦

Not that which way they "point" matters all that much, I'm just surprised I didn't really notice I hadn't taken advantage of the ability to "point" inward. That could've been fun to play with on Day 23 in particular!

It also doesn't really show at all, but I was thinking about Haunted Houses when I drew the little house, since tonight is Halloween, which is part of why it doesn't use very many properly straight lines...And you might be able to see a the tiniest bat I have ever drawn in my life over the door! But that's about as far as I got with making the house look "haunted." I had thoughts of pushing it further, but I held back because I knew I wanted to get kind of rainbow-y with the color scheme and didn't want the house to clash too much with that.

And as you can probably tell, I also just didn't have a ton of space to play with a lot of fine "spooky" details and have them actually be recognizable. The windows on the house were pushing the limits as it was. 😅

Speaking of windows, I'm not sure how well it comes across, but I did try to put some edging around the houses to create kind of a cathedral/stained glass window effect. Ironic as heck considering I mostly tried to avoid that kind of thing all month previously because I had two glass-specific words I wanted to let have that option on the table...And then I mostly didn't even use that effect for those specific days. 🙃

But! Go big or go home, I wanted to have fun and I like stained glass, so here we are!

I kind of tried to tie the "world" aspect back into it by filling some of the "glass" spaces with those cobblestone-ish spaces. Obviously it's not a "yellow brick road" as in a certain imaginary world because it's not all yellow, but calling it a "rainbow stone road" in similar fashion would be fair, I think. 😉 It's cute and goes super well with the stained glass impression...In fact that might be carrying the whole stained gladd impression by itself, but I'll let Sparklers decide that for yourselves.

Also, to my credit, I did try to bring in a little more "spook" by going with moths to help fill out the rest of the space rather than my first choice, butterflies. Butterflies don't really specifically have anything to do with imaginary worlds, I know, but they seem to have gotten filed in the same folder in my brain. At the very least you could draw the connection between butterflies (and moths), fairies, and magic, which would fit in nicely with an imaginary world.

However, my compromise was starting with the very butterfly-esque Luna moth, which is more colorful but they do have a very eye-like marking on their wings, which I attempt to use to my full advantage here (while still attempting to keep it at least a little abstract).

I was actually going to have all Luna moths all the way around, but when I copied & rotated the layer I discovered they were too long and go cut off on the other 4-points, which I did not like the look of.

So rather than have to figure out something else to draw in their place or re-draw new months from scratch, I erased the bottoms of the wings, altered the shape of what was left a bit, then changed the antennae and the "eyes" on the wings to be a bit different. Boom! New "normal" brown-ish moths. 🦋 And y'know, the brownish moths don't get enough love compared to their flashier counterparts anyway, so they deserve to be here and I'm happy to have them.

To polish things off, I felt it essential to have a rainbow border. More than anything else, I associate rainbows with the concept of imagination. I very nearly put some clouds in there too, but then I remembered how surprsingly annoying it's been to get cloud shapes I'm happy with in this format at various points earlier in the month. So no clouds, just more rainbow bits to fill the space where the clouds would've been.

Besides, this way it kind of looks like the moths are going to fly over the houses, bringing the rainbows with them, which is a pretty cute idea. 😊

And then I topped things off with some stars/sparkles because one of my earlier ideas was to get some trees in here and maybe evoke the idea of laying out under the stars at night, letting your imagination run wild. But as evidenced by my little trees stumps, I did not actually get very far in entertaining that particular idea. 😅

Setting the scene at night does go better with the hints of more Halloween-ish themes, though, so all is well.

The colors then are about as self-explanation as you can get. The only thing I didn't really touch on is that I tried to make the house black/purple with red roofing, but I kept the layers light because I didn't want the coloring in those spots to stick out too much. I think it's better if the house can kind of "blend in" as just a small final nudge to the idea that they're just a small part of a larger world, rather than their own central figure. If that makes any sense.

In the end, I do think this turned out as one my better more doodle-y attempts for the month. Just goes to show what a difference actually having time to think about what the heck I was doing can make. [I say knowing my past self cannot hear/see this yet because that's how the past works.]

And I do think this is among my favorites for the month, but I'm still not quite ready to say it's my favorite-favorite. It is missing some more "traditional" mandala touches that make it harder to compare with those that strike the doodle vs. traditional balance better. I tried to squeeze a couple things in there, but ultimately my other ideas literally and figuratively took up to much space to really leave room for that.

It looks good—great even!—though! So I'm thrilled to go out on a relatively high note, especially after the last few prompts both gave me trouble and were a bit of a whirlwind to make since I was so bad at giving myself enough time to make them in. 😅

...Well, it's a high note for now. We'll see how hard of a time I have with cross-posting and if that dampens my mood too much or not. 🫠

Still, that won't change the fact that I am DONE. I DID IT!! And now I can safely focus all of my attention on a certain other project I've been working on prepping for November in the background all the while.

Still, that won't change the fact that I am DONE. I DID IT!! And now I can safely focus all of my attention on a certain other project I've been working on prepping for November in the background all the while.

I'll see you Sparklers tomorrow, bright and...colorful. 😉 👋

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See the Prompt List

Artwork © me, MysticSparklewings

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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[bugtoast]

Okay so I have a headcanon about Jack partially having a soul in the DSAF games, and i'm gonna share why I have that headcanon!

so, here's why i headcanon this! i call it "Bug's handy-dandy 3-pointed-reason for why jack has a soul!"

#1) The flipside and blackjack

So, we all know that blackjack is Jack's soul, right? and we all know that blackjack is in the flipside. well, if we interpret it literally, then this line of dialogue:

creates a plothole, because if this literal interpretation is the truth, then blackjack should be the one pushing jack out.

unless jack is only one half of the entire soul (kinda like how dave and davetrap are two halves of a whole, if that makes sense).

"oh, but jack wouldn't be able to go through if he had a soul, even if it were one half. it is said in the story that the flipside works like a mirror" SHHHHHHHHH lets just ignore that gaping hole in my argument for the sake of hearing me infodump

and, we know that if a soul repossesses its own body, it gets split in two, so, maybe jack tried to repossess his own body after his promise to fredbear?

#2) the fact that fredbears burnt down with jack inside BEFORE the dave fight

so, as we all know, in the good ending, jack burns down the pizzeria with himself inside. but, what has always bugged me was this line of dialogue:

"Burned it all down" is in past tense. but if jack burnt down fredbear's with himself inside, how is he in the flipside if he is just the body?

now, before you say "blackjack brought him back!" you've gotta remember something: every time throughout all of the games, we could only enter the flipside if we physically went to an arcade cabinet. meaning, that the only logical way jack could be in the flipside is if he had a soul.

"Oh, but what about the happiest day in dsaf 2? doesn't dee bring jack to the flipside then?" well, we don't actually get confirmation of that. for all we know, jack could've just walked back to the arcade cabinet, since, in the canon ending, jack is still inside of the dsaf 2 location. same point goes for the dsaf 1 location. we don't get confirmation that dee brought him there. for all we know, jack could've snuck back into the dsaf 1 location later that day.

"but jack returned to the real world after the fight with henry!" you may be saying to yourself. but to that I say, look at the state of the building.

Fire can spread extremely fast, and according to google, it only takes like 5 minutes for a building to catch fire. if this did happen after jack went into the flipside (which, that section usually only takes up to 20 or so minutes), the building would be in a much worse state.

now, it only takes 2 minutes at the very least to die in a fire from suffocation, but to that I say: He's a zombie. he probably doesn't need lungs

#3) DAVE AND JACK DESERVE A HAPPY ENDING GOD DAMMIT

look me in the face rn and say that these two should ever be separated.

THEY ARE A PAIR. DO NOT SEPARATE THEM!!! LET THEM GET MARRIED IN THE AFTERLIFE TOGETHER GOD DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i will not take this injustice sitting down!!!!

oh and uh

secret wacky point #4) Jack has a personality

speaks for itself, really. man just feels like he has a soul, to me at least.

[midnightmah07]

fiiine if you say so, but I'm still gonna make you something!

Plus I said it'll probably make you cry! No guarantees it will!

Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you've ever thought about how Rigel is essentially doomed to be alone for his whole life*pushes away the OC made to be his gf*

Just think about it, Rigel age regresses and reverts back to acting like a child when in overwhelming situations, making me viewed as childish by peers and strangers. The only people that actually know why Rigel is this way are Idia, Ortho, and the other STYX workers(I don't think Perse would know what happened to his uncle, she'd just know that Rigel acts childish and doesn't ask why). He was a child when he lost his uncle in front of him and no one, except the Shroud boys, were the only people to comfort him, until they were gone, he lost his friend and had no one else to turn to, because his only source of comfort is now gone for good.

So he's now manipulated himself into thinking the death was his fault and that it's now his duty to carry on his legacy, even if he doesn't want to, even if it's not who he is. He's lost himself in trying to become the image of his uncle so as to pretend he's still with him and that he still has a family, because due to the neglect of his parents, he's forgotten what they even look like whilst they are trying to reignite the long dead relationship of parent and child.

However things changed when he and Perse became siblings, he finally had someone who'd be able to lift him up, allow him to be himself, and finally have a family member who'll stuck by his side and reciprocate his love

Everything is finally going right. Except for when it doesn't. Book six.

Ortho convinces Rigel to join him in resetting the world by promising the reunion of him and Charon, his uncle, or his father because the two are so similar in every way, they might as well be father and son

The plan fails of course, which deepens Rigel suppressed depression, true Perse yelled at him, but she still loves him, she wouldn't hug him if she didn't because no one who didn't love him hugged him

But when Perse eventually leaves and Idia and Ortho take over STYX, he's not going to have anyone left to stick with him, and with his and Perse's argument and the hurtful words said, did she actually love him or was it just pity for the hurting boy? Was everything fake and he was just being ignorant as she went along with it? Or was he just being delusional into thinking that he could actually have someone who loves him so much where he could be called their family? That's up for debate

But the blot that has compiled ever since he was six certainly knows the answer, or so it thinks. It just wishes to feed and give him the reunion he's always wanted.

Maybe he is the splitting image of his uncle with the repressed depression and the love of boat rides on the river

I'll have you know that I'm definitely going to make some sort of drawing of Rigel's pov of Perse during his overblot *bats eyes cutely*

Literally why are you guys so mean to your OCs... Like let them be happy people oh my Gosh y'all are messed up😭

Also wait as I read this I'm unsure if I made Perse's roles with the Shrouds clear, Perse is basically another worker at STYX! Her family has served the Shrouds for generations and she's basically stuck to Idia and Ortho's side ever since she was a child! Plus not only that but when she's older she ends up marrying Idia (which yes basically breaks the Achillea-Shroud relationship but like... She's "stuck" with him now but willingly) and this basically solidifies that she's not leaving his side lol

Granted, she does travel for work a good amount of time, so maybe in those instances Rigel could've felt alone? But other than that she doesn't really have a reason to leave STYX/the Island of Woe and by consequence Rigel's side

[winter-spark]

Hiya friends, I'm having a writing predicament.

See I think just maybe my arranged royal marriage au might be too long. And mayhaps I need to break the chapters into their own stories and make the story a series.

Which is wild because the chapters were me trying to find the best places to split up the one shot that was getting too long. Plus that means that it might feel a little cheap to stop before the actual wedding.

But like let me explain why it might be too long. My first draft which was this 🤏🏾 close to being complete was a one-shot turned 3 shot, turned technically 4 because chapter 2 was split (chapters are named by "Acts" so chapters 2 and 3 are both Act II but Act II part 1 & part 2), then turned 5, then 6. It has about 35,988 words and again was incomplete(finished in my head.) But to put the chapter sizes in perspective, in my second draft, chapter one is currently 8,183 words. I'm still writing chapter two but I'm a third - halfway through it at 3,226 words. For comparison, the first two chapters of my tangled hs au are 3,926 and 4,601 words, chapter two being the longest of all the chapters I've written for it, chapter 9 the shortest at 2,899. Chapter 9 is not the end. With the way the story is going, there's still 4 (give or take one or so) chapters left.

Now that was a lot of words what am I saying? Well before I fully clarify, I love both stories. And I like reading both, and I have ideas still cultivating for both for my edits and conclusions. But it's easier to get in gear for the tangled hs one(I need less misleading nicknames for these). And I'm starting to think it's the way they're broken up. I think it's easier to get through thus easier to work on. See when I did draft two, draft one was a bunch of loosely connected scenes here and there (the beginning was solidly connected but as it went on the rest was just "oh I have an idea for a scene" several times some more attached together than others) so when doing draft two the hard part was making a calendar for the story and deciding when each event happened. Then I could just write the chapters like "this is day three so this thing needs to happen", and it's all heading to a conclusion and the chapters are complete chapters but they're largely built around small scenes I'd written, some things becoming a thing because "oh something needs to solidly get them to that point of their dynamic."

With the arranged marriage one, I started out solidly writing a story, each part in full, each part following the next, to the point that it visibly got too long to be a one-shot. With the tangled one, I was like oh to tie all this together this is gonna be too long to be a one shot, but with the arranged marriage fic I heard my sister in the back of my mind saying "some one shots are so long it's like okay you really could've cut that into chapters" or something along those lines as she told me before that she does feel like with some large one-shot there are clear good spots to cut it into chapters at and that it should be cut into chapters. So I thought, dang, this is probably one of those one-shots. I wasn't even done writing it I was on what became chapter three maybe now chapter four, thinking I'd be able to end it soonish but knowing it was long and needed that chapter split. So the division started up as large portions of the story. Then I went through to solidify them as solid chapters and fixing the pacing by adding more scenes to more clearly elaborate on the amount of time passing and what the characters were noticing. Which of course made the chapters longer.

Thus in editing and getting to the scene that's stuck in my head, it takes a minute while with the tangled hs au, revisiting rereading rewriting takes less time. I don't even think the arranged royal marriage one is a drag or anything but it's lengthy. In several aspects. So maybe leaning towards the bite-sized would make it easier.

However, I do have hesitance in doing that. See the thing is, it's a complete story. From chapter one to chapter 6. If I make them separate stories I have to work out if they standalone alright. Honestly, I think the first chapter would but Idk where to split it into chapters. And again how would I end the series? Like literally the last chapter is mostly wrap-up and fluff like idk if it can be its own standalone or if it would be a solid enough end to series rather than a single story. Like if I do this I'd have to probably expand it and I've already expanded it so much, it's so long.

On the other hand, if I do expand, like maybe I can throw in another perspective here or there as I do have thoughts on scenes that happened off-screen. I dunno though. But who knows how long it'll take if I do that. And I might have to give the others actual storylines. I mean like I could bring back the Izumi maybe having a crush on someone plotline that I scrapped because I was too indecisive but like that's a story rework lowkey? And another thing. I can't post a story until I'm done writing it but if it's a series would I be able to share the story as I go, as I finish individual works? Because finishing a whole series before posting any of it sounds like it'd take forever. But then I won't be able to go back and edit freely to make it flow better.

Oof. I don't know what to do.

[storywonker]

TASM2 is... a weird movie. That's obvious, and there's a reason it didn't do well. It's ultimately got too much stuff in it and loses the thread of its best bits in an attempt to set up a wider universe.

If you're going to do an MCU competitor with a Marvel character then framing it around Spidey is probably the best choice - after all, there's a whole spidey mythos in the comics that only minimally intersects with the rest of the universe and can easily be split off. But the film takes some truly bizarre moves if that's the idea, the weirdest of which is the plot point that only Peter could've become Spider-Man.

As an idea in a self-contained story or series of films it's not an awful idea - I don't much like it as I like the take that anyone could've been bitten, and it's Peter's acceptance of his uncle's power-and-responsibility schtick that truly makes him a hero - but it could work, especially as this movie emphasises Peter's parents as an emotional thread.

But as part of a movie setting up a big cinematic universe it's a bizarre choice. Either you have to write around it to introduce new spiders, in which case why have it, or you've locked yourself in to the character of Peter Parker for basically every future movie, and that means you're locked in to Andrew Garfield too (good thing Sony kept him sweet, huh?... oh, right, huh). It basically only exists as a plot point to make the parents mystery plot-relevant and to justify Harry's turn to the Goblin, neither of which seems actually needed.

Plus, there's Gwen's death. Yes, it happened in the comics but it's still one of the most famous fridgings around, and the Peter-Gwen relationship was the best thing about the films, not least due to the leads' chemistry. Hell, Spider-Gwen as an idea came off these films' drawning boards, so I have to assume they realised it was something they'd need to write around - so why do it?

Especially since it makes something of a mess of the Peter-Gwen thread anyways - obviously we've had a lot of buildup to a doomed relationship that, if the idea was to introduce MJ in TASM3, we're not going to stick with. Plus the whole question is whether Peter is right to push her away due to the danger to her and his promise to her father despite her own desire to date him - and the film, until the last 20 minutes, seems to come down on her side! She has a whole speech in the finale about how she's got agency and he doesn't get to make her choices for her - and then like 10 minutes later her head hits concrete. What's the thematic point, here?

I guess part of this is we don't see where they were going - all this could work in theory in a less-stuffed movie that had a payoff in a sequel. But we never got the sequel, mostly because apparently Sony didn't know where they were going either.

Which is something of a shame, because there are some legitimately great scenes and sequences in this film. The opening chase with Rhino is one of the best spidey sequences on film, the action scenes - and the montages of Peter being spidey - are well-done and great fun. The Peter-Gwen scenes are excellent and really sell the idea that these two are aboslutely smitten but also trying not to be.

Cut the Harry plot and you might have a stronger movie, although you still have the issue that you don't necessarily have a thematic throughline - there's the idea of time and not having enough of it, but the film never seems to resolve it, and it's muddied by the parallel hope-bringer theme. There's just too many elements, and despite the legitmately good quality of some of them, they just don't gel into a cohesive whole.

Anyway, onto the actual point of this exercise: catching up on the MCU films I haven't seen.

[isca-rambles]

4x21 Oh no, it's the 'casually break Lucy's heart' episode with the fake proposal. Or maybe it's the 'Lucy starts to realise these weird feelings might actually mean something' episode. In any case, I'm ready to have my heart broken watching Lucy be mildly in pain.

Chris, stop pushing. Jesus. It's not crazy, Nolan, but you're really not amazing at it from what I've seen of S5/S6. Soooo...ya know. Fuck that bloody golden ticket, honestly. But I'll save that for that episode.

Oh Lucy honey. It's a good thing Tim is just as oblivious to your feelings as you are, because you are being so fucking obvious today.

Patrice is such a sweetheart. Seriously. They initially gave off the impression she'd be this horrific set-up entitled monster but she's just adorable and so sweet. Definitely in the running for unofficial Mid-Wilshire mum/grandma. Can we please get Lucy some better parents? I mean Grey is unofficially her new dad but still, she needs more time with him for it to matter. Patrice and Luna can co-share mum duties.

Angela's cop eyes working overtime when it comes to Chenford moments.

Oh god Lucy, this hurts so much. She isn't completely sure why this is bothering her so much, I mean aside from the fact that Tim and Ashley really aren't suited for each other, but she just knows it's hurting. Patrice using Jackson's full name. My heaaart. Grey, yes, protect those ponies! Good man. Wesley you utter sweetpea. Another sunshine human being right here. And aww, Nyla's ex-MIL is a sweetie. Ugh why Tim. Whyyy. Not only because you damn well know you want marriage and kids. Lucy's poor heart. They're both just settling for something safe and stable because they've got all these other feelings they can't understand. I hope Angela got a good curse for her.

4x22 hehehehe. here we goooo. Dad!Tim and Mum!Lucy are the most adorable idiots.

I've seen this episode many times before so I probably won't be commenting too much about this one. Mostly it's just white noise of me giggling. Lucy, Angela, and Nyla are just precious together. More. Now. God that pillow under Dim's t-shirt. Y'all could've done anything else.

Grey and Angela sharing knowing grins, and also just how adorable excited Lucy is. I can't.

Nell and Ellroy are the most precious angels. Their wedding next, right? Another Chenford dance, right? Right?! Lucy keeping her man safe, of course.

So many candles. Aaaaahhhh. Legally now I have to replay this scene about 50 times. Look at her torturing him and making him say the words. God, look at these awkward oblivious idiots. Mel's Canadian accent slipping through with those sorrys.

Uuuugh and how easily they both sink into this kiss. Like barely a split second and his hands are on her and he's chasing that kiss even further. Tamara I love you but you couldn't have given us a few more seconds?

Lucy pointing at Tim 'this is work'. Damn right he is, honey. And he will continue to be work but it'll be worth it in the end or so help me god. 'I don't have anything' you fucking awkward dork. And the 'good work' and her face oh my god these two. Aww Tim. Having to do some processing of those feelings you can't understand that you tried to keep buried, huh buddy?

COWARD

Aww, I did like Nyla as a TO. Poor Grey having to cling onto his TOs like gold dust.

[jackienautism]

hi again!!! no worries about taking time with my asks, they are very long i totally get it!! rereading my last ask i realize there were a handful of times where i just. left out complete parts of sentences LMAO whoops. that will happen when you are typing and watching someone play a game at the same time.

anyway i finished my vw playthrough yesterday! my brother is almost done with his playthrough as well. he ended up siding with edie :) he also decided to buy his own switch so he can play on his own LMAO.

hmmm.. thinking about the fics i've read (since i hit part two on my deer playthrough i was playing more and reading fic less lol). immediately after playing i was like hm. this is great territory for time travel and time loop related fanfiction given the whole. divine pulse plus new game + mechanic. i'm sure there's interesting stuff related to this. and i was right. then i think i looked through some edelgard related tags, and then some marianne related tags? i was mostly sticking to one-shots and like. mid-length multichapter fics, and sending the really long ones to my read later list lol. saving those for when i finish at least the three lord's routes.

as for art, i was mostly just searching a character or dynamic i liked on here and going from there LOL.

yeahhhh. ingrid and felix's paired ending isn't Bad or anything but like after the b support i just. don't like the idea of them ending up together lol. and meanwhile any ending where ingrid has children bothers me? so. absolutely not to the sylvain ingrid paired ending. and honestly i kind of hate the whole.... 'oh she's always cleaning up his messes' thing that their c support (and other general interactions) suggest. like i do like sylvain but i am Not subjecting ingrid to him LMFAO.

i ended up reading some bernie/edelgard fanfiction and Really liking their dynamic in that which is. funny considering i've never seen their a support LMAO. as for dorothea and edie, i've seen their a support now thanks to my brother's playthrough!! they're sooo good. i think you're right about marianne supports with girls outside the deer?? which is annoying. let marianne interact with more girls she deserves it. and YEAH i did end up seeing the marianne lysithea supports and like. they're fine! but man there were so many interesting directions they could've taken those two and they just. didn't. very unremarkable supports imo which sucks extra because they could've been so good!

i got mercedes and annette to b support! so they had their fight and then the next time they see each other they are facing each other on the battlefield. which was very fun. i loveeeed creating scenarios like that caspar killing linhardt was also so :((( i was gonna have sylvain kill felix but he failed so bad annette had to kill felix too LMAO. and i had dorothea kill ferdinand which is :( and. for edie i had petra, claude and byleth all land at least one hit on her for maximum interesting dialogue.

i love how last ask i was like 'sylvain is going to end up alone because i can only pair him with byleth or dorothea and i'm not pairing him with dorothea again, and im either pairing byleth with claude or dorothea' and then i ended up. s supporting sylvain. idk what it was about claude.... i absolutely loved him as a character, but i was not feeling the romance at allll. like that's my dear friend claude.. as for dorothea, i was thinking that i probably want to s support her if i ever go for silver snow, because i think the idea of byleth and dorothea who both like. still really care about edelgard and maybe even regret their decision to side against her in a split second but hey it's too late to turn back now, right! getting together is just. so. there's sometihng about it. will i ever actually bring myself to play silver snow?? maybe.. i think if i dont let myself s support dorothea until i do, though, i'm more likely to play it, and i do want to see all the routes.. i also really wanted to see the dorothea petra paired ending.

i ended up with completely different paired endings than i initially anticipated, which i ended up really liking! aside from sylvain and byleth, and obviously petra and dorothea, i also got claude and hilda, which. LOVED their a support. i am an absolute sucker for characters who are both wearing masks of sorts calling each other on it.... also got marianne and ashe which was really sweet :) caspar and annette as well, which, again, i really liked and thought was sweet. i also ended up with leonie and shamir, which was good as well. honestly maybe one of the best endings for leonie, who i ended up getting more attached to than i expected during my playthrough. OH and ignatz and raphael, whose supports started strong but like.. his sister? ignatz marries his sister? okay. i wasn't aware i was doing the supports for ignatz and raphael's sister but. whatever. like i don't mind it, i wasn't particularly attached to them like. ending up together? but it felt like a cop out from making them romantic honestly.

circling back but MAN dorothea and petra's a support and paired ending.... i love them they're sooo good. dorothea is sooo special to me i love when she gets to be happy...... she deserves it!!

i ended up REALLY liking annette, way more than i expected to lol. very excited for the lions to see her sylvain and mercedes specifically. i thinkk i'm gonna recruit marianne again, since like. why wouldn't i recruit marianne. dorothea as well because. well. it's dorothea and i love her. i'm probably gonna recruit bernie because i didn't last time, and maybe ferdinand as well? i could get caspar since i hear he's got a paralogue with mercedes but, as much as i like caspar, i want to recruit some different people this time around and i'm already set on getting dorothea again lol.

i'll probably get leonie as well, and then either raphael or hilda? haven't decided yet. i like hilda, but i think my first real character defining experience with her being her literally dying for claude in CF (before i used divine pulse to prevent that lol) has like. solidified and defined my interpretation of her and i don't feel right recruiting her away from the deer. soooo funny to me that hilda 'i would never die for my friends' goneril is now stuck in this role in all of my subsequent playthroughs. i don't even know if you fight her in the lions route but i'm still not pulling her away from the deer and claude. sorry girl.

i like avoided using lorenz like the PLAGUE because well. i didn't have to use him. and i really didn't want to accidentally get a paired ending with him LOL. idk i feel like his whole lack of respect for claude was reallyyyy grating especially after a certain point. and the fact that the byleth c support is you going 'hey lorenz stop being weird to women??' idk. like i'm sure there's Something interesting there but i didn't care enough to look for it honestly he just has too many unlikable qualities and not enough charm or interesting stuff to make up for it. to me.

OH IGNATZ AND MARIANNE..... i loved their supports actually. they were so good. i keep forgetting about them and then remembering all of a sudden and going. oh those were good. the claude and petra supports were also good, as were annette and claude's! and i didn't see all of annette and ashe's, but they were sweet too. hmmm sylvain and marianne's b support was surprisingly good, as was his b support with hilda (once again. characters wearing metaphorical masks is sooo interesting to me and i love when they interact..). claude and marianne's were SO good i loved them. i love how marianne is in the ending tapestry/mosaic thing for VW too, especially considering the ending of their supports! leonie and claude's were good, marianne and hilda's were pretty sweet, and so were ashe and caspar's..... man i'm trying to think of what other ones i got. i want to like.. say how i feel about all of these but i don't want to spoil any you haven't gotten yet so! i think i'll just leave it there.

anyway! excited for the blions route! gonna go play with my brother again lol so he can finish CF and start his own playthroughs on his new switch, and so i can move onto the lions! as much as i love the other houses, going through this game twice i Have noticed that a lot of the early game stuff skews towards having the lions be plot relevant, and the themes and connections between the lions just seem. really deliberately woven if that makes sense. so i'm looking forward to seeing it all play out! i think before i play silver snow i'd have to do another CF route tho bc i can only go so long supporting the church before i feel the urge to not do that LMAO. anyway i hope you're doing well!!! have a good day/week, it's always nice talking with you and hearing your thoughts :)

HIII thank you so much for understanding! its very much appreciated :] and fdkndg no worries man, im pretty sure i understood what you were saying and all. but yeah that prob is gonna happen when youre watching someone else play at the same time, so no worries!

OHH GOOOD. GLAD HE SIDED W/ EDIE AFTER ALL YIPPEEE but i suppose that was assumed right? glad it came true!!! and CONGRATS ON FINISHING YOUR VERDANT WIND PLAYTHROUGH!!!!! you play fast fdgndfg took me a good like 2 years to finally get back to it and finish it 😭 good for you! glad youre enjoying everything!

and yeah that makes sense ! glad that the game had you that hooked and stuff (eyeballs) but yeah it sucks that its between either playing or engaging w/ content... and that can be a difficult thing to decide sometimes jdfgfd YOU ARE SO RIGHT ABT THE TIME LOOP / TIME TRAVEL POTENTIAL!!!!! AND SPEAKING OF THAT? HAVE YOU SEEN AN EAGLE AMONG LIONS? ITS GOOOOD. its like 80+ chapters BUT ITS SOOO GOOD. i myself am only like ? not even a quarter of the way through but it plays on different timelines and time travel and stuff. and it has a HUGE focus on edelgard. def couldnt recommend it enough. makes sesne that you stuck w/ the shorter ones though... since it does get time consuming. any ones you read that you recommend :o? glad youve found a bunch of good ones regarding that concept though

AND NICE. MAKES SENSE. it just sucks that sometimes if th edynamic isnt very popular it gets difficult tofind stuff</3 esp art stuff. like. for example. i wanted to find som e marianne and lysithea stuff. and not even like romantically. i just want to see them together. and i couldnt find any art but i DID find a few fics but </3 sometimes i just wnat Them you know? and they were often accompanied by several other characters / dynamics. there were 2 that i rly liked though

I DIDNT EVEN KNOW THAT INGRID HAS ENDINGS WHERE SHE HAS CHILDREN!!!!!! IS THE GAME DAFT? IS THAT /NOT/ WHAT THEY ESTABLISHED AS SOMETHING SHES AFRAID OF? gosh dfkgnfdg jesus christ. and no youre sooo right abt the whole sylvain and ingrid dynamic. like. of course its funny to a degree and ingrid doesnt have to place all that onto herself but............ i think both the game and the fandom play it up a bit too much. but yeah fdgjdfg i totally understand why you wouldnt pair her w/ either felix or sylvain

OOOO i know bernie and edie is ? sort of popular? so im happy that youve enjoyed their dynamic, i still need to go through their supports myself</3 AND YIPPPEE glad you enjoy edie and dorothea together and that you liked their A support<3 yeah ): i like just didnt remember seeing marianne have supports w/ any girls outside the golden deer... which SUCKS bc 2 out of the 3 she only goes up to B. SHE DOES DESERVE IT!!!!!! and like. ive thouhgt abt this before but..... dorothea and marianne........ they both have themselves in their dislikes section........ thoughts in my brain. AND FOR REAL !!!! ABT LYSITHEA AND MARIANNE. THEY COULDVE DONE SOOO MUCH MORE AND YET THEY DIDNT ): and not only that, they dont even have a post timeskip one ?? which i feel they TOTALLY deserve. esp since lysithea's whole thing was like. enjoy lfie while you can! look at the positive! and then she DOES post timeskip! i dont knooow they couldve so much, like you said

and ah okay! i guess i shouldve assumed that you were referring to mercie and annette, just based on their supports and all. but thank you! but also. BOOOO. i get wanting to create a scenario like that but 😭😭😭😭 the sheer POTENTIAL of something like that though is SOOO good. i assume mercedes was w/ dimitri during that one battle where all 3 armies clashed on gronder field? i haven't gotten caspar and linhardt's special dialogue on the battlefield.... and i probably never will TBH. THE SAME THING HAPPENED TO ME LMAO w/ sylvain and felix. atleast in my CF run. i got their special dialogue and then sylvain was GONNA kill him but felix's pavise or some shit activated and ALMOST KILLED HIM RIGHT BACK!!!!! it was very unfortunate. glad annette was able to cover for him i guess though 😭 /AND/ YOU HAD DOROTHEA KILL FERDIE???? GODDAMN...... you are very strong my friend. getting special dialogue is fun but at the same time </////3 it makes me Hurt. does petra and edie have special dialogue together? i didnt realize that :o

OHHHH YOU ENDED UP S SUPPORTING SYLVAIN???????? THATS CERTAINLY A SHOCK FGNJDFGF i thinki believe ive seen your account? you hva e a bi sylvain icon right? if youre not comfortable w/ me saying that just lmk and ill remove it asap. BUT GOOD FOR YOUUUU FKNGFGDF I CERTAINLY WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT LMAO. and yeah i feel that for claude and byleth. i honestly cant say anything bc i had no intentions of S supporting him to begin with but. yeah. WHEN HE CHANGES FROM "TEACH" TO "MY FRIEND"...... I THINK THATS SO CUTE THOUGH. and ouuugh the potential of silver snow byleth / dorothea.... i like that concept a whole lot. i think you def should do that if you go down that route. but at the same time. are you even able to keep any of the black eagles in your class during that route? or does edie turn against ALL of them? i have yet to play so i dont knooow. nbut the potential scares me. since going against edie after gaining her trust is one thing, but to have to go against the WHOLE CLASS? very sad. but no ytoure absolutely right... i think theyd have a particular bond after going agsinst edelgard, and i think that may increase their relationship and all. they get to revel in that guilt together!!!! mmm, using dorothea as a reason to play it is dfngdfgk it gives you incentive you know? and i believe thats needed as a route like SS

yeah!!! claude and hilda's A support was very good... makes sense why theyre so drawn together and all. because, like you said, its interesting how characters who tend to put up a mask themself also tend to see through someone else's, especially if its a close friend. ooo didnt realize marianne could A support w/ ashe! or annette w/ caspar! thats very interesting. i knew abt leonie and shamir, i dont quite understand Why yet (since i have yet to see them) but. i suppose it makes some sense considering that shamir is sort of a mercenary? it was something like that right? i forgor. glad to hear that thats one of the best endings for leonie! i literally just recently finished VW and i already forget who leonie ended up w/ oops. andd getting attached to her is epic as well, bc i just couldnt get myself to tbh. ofc i like her and alll, but i just. eh. you know? I DONT EVEN REMEMBER WHO IGNATZ AND RAPHAEL ENDED UP WITH!!!!! NO WAIT I DO. NVM. anyway. i had no idea thats who their (ignatz and raphael) ending plays out?????? thats so :/ i get not everything ahs to be romantic but come OOOOON.... ESP SINCE WE DONT EVEN GET TO SEE RAPH'S SISTER??????? LIKE 😭😭😭 gosh. thats so annoyingg. but no youre right, them adding in maya like that is such just ..... like you said, a cop out. and it sucks. not all the endings are specifically romantic, like raph and lysitheas for example iirc, but CMON !!!!!!!!

RIIIIIIGHT....... in my playthroughs i tend to only get the supports of the characters in my house (as i also tend to use only those characters and maybe 1 or 2 recruits) but MAN. FOR MY AZURE MOON ONE I JUST CANT LET DOROTHEA BE ALONE...... SO IM GONNA GET HER TO A SUPPORT W/ PETRA AGAIN......... she deserves to be happy andd knowing that she has the potential to be alone makes my heart hurt.

annette is a real sweetheart. and i love her little songs dfkgndf and ofc her relationship w/ mercedes is real nice. BUT YEAAAAH GOOD RECRUITS AS USUAL.... im only on like the first chapter of the timeskip actuallly dkfgndg i havent played azure moon in a bit, i rly need to change tha.t. i actually havent played the game at ALL in a little bit, for reasons i wont get into, which sucks but </3 gonna try and get into the groove again soon. dont blame you for wanting to get different people, and yeah caspar and mercedes do have a paralogue together! it has to do w/ the death knight iirc. anyone you plan to recruit in place of caspar? or are you just gonna wing it?

OH guess the next paragraph answered my question mb. BUT OOOO HILDA... THATS VERY INTERESTING TO THINK ABT..... i totally forgot that she was like that in terms of dying and stuff... unless i just misse dhtat entirely? and i cant remember her dying quote / special interaction w/ marianne or byleth rip. BUT YEAH. I CAN DEF SEE HWY YOU DONT WANNA SEPARATE HER FROM THE DEER / CLAUDE..... they both already go soooo well together.... so i totally get it. aside from hilda literally dying for claude after saying she wouldnt ddo such things for them, what was your other character defining moments for her? if any?

LMAO LORENZ..... i like. gosh. i dont blame you at AALLLLL. his first impression is just so bad and ugly and..... iugh. i went through all his supports w/ the golden deer (except for claude's. i missed out on it. which. im not too disappointed abt LOL i can imagine he goes through some growth hopefully nbut i cant rly say that he truly does) and yeah... he has some redeeming qualities. like. hes a very caring and nice guy beneath it all. but you're right. his distrust in claude is so just annoying and UGLY if you really get down to it. /I/ dont like him either but going throuhg his supports w/ the deer made me appreciate him a littl emore? not by much though. i still think hes annoying. and honestly i dont even remember his A support w/ byleth LOL which probably means it wasnt that memorable. but yeah i dont blame you for avoidinig him at all costs lmao hes a really unlikable character imo lol. and as youve siad, his whole thing w/ claude rly puts me off

YESSSS IGNATZ AND MARIANNE'S SUPPORTS WERE SO SWEET.... I ESP LOVED WHNE HE SAW THE SUNSET AND THOUGHT TO HIMSELF "OH, MARIANNE WOULD LOVE THIS" THATS SO NICE AND CUUUUTE 😭😭 OOO i dind realize annette had supports w/ claude... interesting. i think i stilll need ashe and annette's A support but they were so fun dfngdfg esp them getting Scared together and stuff. i dont rly care abt sylvain very much but i do enjoy most of his supports. rly shows a different side of him, which made me realize just how strong of a character he is. character wise, i mean. but yeah! OHHHH CLAUDE AND MARIANNE'S WERE SOOO GOOD.... I ESP LOVED THEIR A SUPPORT AND HOW HE GAVE THAT STORY ABT HIMSELF AND ALL..... TO RELATE TO MARIANNE AND HER STRUGGLES W/ BURDENS AND SUCH...... i also got their ending (out of pure chance which i was VERY happy about)AND OHH YEAH, SO THAT WAS MARIANNE ON THE END ART HUH? i mauyube thought she was there just because of my game getting their ending but fkgnfg THATS SO CUTE !!!!!! I LOVE U MARIANNE . i vaguely remember leonie and claude's which sucks, ill prob have to go throuhg them all again separately since i just BINGED most of them during the end of my playthrough. marianne and hildas were good too.... i thought it was so cute how hilda got her to laugh so hard during their A support )): and i still need to get ashe and caspar's! and thank you for not wanting to spoil stuff for ): that's very nice of you, feel free to talk abt the ones in specific you rly liked! its ok if i havent gotten them before :] ill def just go through them again regardless! but, just so you know, ive gotten all the golden deer's supports w/ each other. excluding lorenz and claude. and pretty much all of the blue lions' supports w/ each other, i have just a few left

HAVE FUN W/ THE LIONS ROUTE!!!!! youre def right to say that white clouds is very heavily biased towards the blue lions... esp narrative wise... you'll. def see what i mean. even more so than the obvious. i wont say much but it regards edelgard. but yeah! like. sylvain and miklan... mercedes and the death knight... i swear there was more but my mind is drawing a bblank rn. OH aand ashe and lonato. imo it was clear that azure moon was meant to be the Bulk of this game. like. you were meant ot play this route and that's it. you're absolutely right abt it seeming deliberately woven. they rly dont try to hide the bias lol which isnt a bad thing ofc but. just seeing how much the fandom is prone to hate edie...... i blame the game's targeted narrative for that. AND I FEEL THAT L,MAO. being on the church's side is so just... it pisses me OOOFF tbh. i can only take so much of that. so i def agree that you plau CF again before doing SS or another one fkndgffg

HOPE YOUREDOING WELL TOO !!!! HAVE A GREAT DAY / NIGHT AS WEELLLLL. and hehe thank youu..... im glad you enjoy reading my thoughts, bc i feel the same about yours!!!! :D

[jesterday00]

adding some story stuff under the cut so the post isn't super long on mobile n stuff, also there's some major spoilers from the first and second games (Curious Village and Diabolical Box). I recommend emulating them or buying the HD versions off the app store.

Please don't spoil anything! I've only finished Curious Village and am I think half way through Diabolical box. I've already had a few things spoiled, though they're admittedly minor.

So my idea for the story is as follows:

Luke and Flora get transported together, giving her some proper screen time. (I'm playing Diabolical Box rn and the fact that she barely does anything before getting swapped with Don Paolo is crazy)

The pair go to a flea market or something, I'm not fully settled yet, and come across an antique (maybe like a thaumatrope, or the Time Turner thing?) that transports them to Hartley's universe. they'll swap with their own counterparts

Because of the transportation, the two feel a bit sick - and confused by a person who seems to have been replaced in an instant - and head back to Layton's office.

On the way, they pass gender-swapped Inspector Chelmey and Barton; this only makes the two more confused, because they're very similar to their main counterparts but are clearly women.

When they arrive back at Layton's office, the door is locked. However, I believe Luke would have a spare for emergencies, and it does indeed work. The other option is that Hershel hides a spare that only Luke and Flora know about, so Hartley would do the same thing and put it in the same spot.

Luke sits down to rest a bit and Flora decides to make some tea. However she notices some cups that Layton didn't have before - they're a bit more feminine than usual, and Flora knows she didn't pick those particular styles. She takes a second to glance around, noticing a lot of admittedly minor changes that were overlooked when they entered the room.

As she goes to bring this to Luke's attention, the door pops open, and Hartley walks in, saying, "Oh! I could've sworn I locked that on my way out."

H: "Oh, hello children! Might I ask who let you into my office?"

L: "We used the sp- Hey, wait! Your office? This is Professor Layton's office!"

H: "That would be me. Did Lou or Florian tell you where the spare was? If so, I'll have to have a word with them."

F: "N-No, we always knew where the spare was, the Professor taught us both where he puts it."

H: "Whoever do you mean, dear?"

L: "Professor Layton, of course!"

H: "My boy, I am Professor Layton. Hartley Layton of Archaeology."

Luke and Flora share startled looks.

L: "They didn't... replace him, did they?"

F: "They couldn't have, not so suddenly! Besides, she has his last name!"

L: "Then what does that mean??"

F: "Luke, I believe this IS Professor Layton... and I think Lou and Florian might be... us."

(Moment of Hartley changing sprite and that cool little "Oh I just realized something" sound)

H: "Well, this is quite an intriguing scenario we have here."

(The screen would split here and show Hartley and Hershel coming to the same realization at the same time. This would probably actually come a bit later? maybe?)

The main story would be Hartley, Luke, and Flora trying to get the kids back home to Hershel and vice versa, and could follow both parties in their attempt to find the antique. If there was a gimmick that allows you to swap at will, it would be cool to have some puzzles only be solvable by swapping to Hershel/Hartley halfway through, though that would be pretty tough.

if anyone has feedback, feel free to share!

Professor Hartley Layton, at your service!

given a recent and sudden hyperfixation on Layton, it was inevitable I'd genderbend him because I love women. I do have an idea for this concept though! like the Layton games have an air of mysticism and slight magic involved (I'm only in the beginning of Diabolical Box, no spoilers pls!) so I could imagine there being a portal or w/e that leads to a world where everyone is genderswapped.

There's a whole story brewing in my head for it rn but it's very "Scraps of ideas and one solid character interaction"

[takuyakistall]

to yuu.

Note: I wanted to write short HCs for each character as they wrote the letter when I finished reading everyone's thank you messages (◕ᴗ◕✿) ! All of them are very cute and I couldn't help but get some midnight rot so I had to write it down. Here's the link to the post where every message is listed down. Before you start reading, just a heads up, most of these are written in a romantic light. I also recommend reading the letters themselves first before heading here.

Characters: All students + Grim (Excluding Ortho)

Riddle Rosehearts

"Dear friend," Riddle thought that it was the most appropriate way to address you—or at least, that's what his brain is trying to make him think. Ever since overblotting and you helping him snap out of his frenzy, he had difficulty in labeling what exactly you were to him.

Before everything, you were supposed to be just a mere acquaintance to him and yet here you were sending him gifts out of the blue. The general "rule" towards receiving gifts was to give the giver your thanks. Albeit the better option was to thank you personally, he thought that maybe a letter would be better so that he can sort out his thoughts.

Friend. He nodded, proceeding to write down the rest of his message until he realized that this was an opportunity to invite you to tea with him under the pretense of paying you back for the gift. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly as he continued writing.

Surely, you would accept his invitation, right?

Trey Clover

"Hey you," was that too casual? Too rude sounding? Trey shook his head as he stared at the two words. He hadn't been expecting a gift from you and frankly, he was more than a bit surprised. Though perhaps he hadn't read the "gift" part when he suddenly started writing down questions about what you liked.

He immediately started thinking of how he should pay you back—gifts? He doesn't know your taste that well. Favours? Hmm, he's not too sure about that one. That's why he decided to ask, if there was something you wanted—he'll do his best to find it for you. A tempting offer, right?

It seems like you have to tell him that this wasn't a trade.

Cater Diamond

"Helloooooo," he started off. The extra amount of Os he used was proof that he's trying to take this occurrence casually. Though in the inside he was absolutely beaming. Gifts never fail to put a smile on his face, especially if it came from someone you didn't expect to give you a gift or someone special to him.

In this case, it was probably the latter. He took a small break as he stared at your gift, wondering what he should write. A small smile took over his face as he picked up his phone and snapped a few selfies of him with your gift with a caption before hitting the post button.

"Received a gift from a dear friend, isn't it amazing? ♪"

Deuce Spade

"Friend," Deuce rarely got to experience receiving gifts from friends to one another judging how his past years were spent as a delinquent. To say that he was happy to receive one from you was an understatement, he was over the moon.

He felt the need to mention it to you with a huge grin on his face. He thought of various ways to give you something back as he let out a small hum, he felt like he was having a field day. He signed the message and told himself that today was going to be a great day.

Ace Trappola

"Hey you," Ace was terribly suspicious of the fact that you sent him a gift out of the blue. Were you trying to buy him silence over something you did? Were you trying to convince him to do your homework for you? A lot of questions springed up inside his mind but not once did he think that it was just a genuine, sweet gift with no ulterior motives hidden beneath.

He knew that you would get mad at him if he continued to suspect you so he said that he was kidding in all caps with three dots after that—which didn't help his situation at all.

He felt awkward trying to convey his feelings like this and he ruffled his own hair as he told you that he just needed to tell you something later, when you're face-to-face. That would make it easier for him to speak.

Leona Kingscholar

"Good day," Leona uncharacteristically typed. He felt like he was being held at gunpoint by his past etiquette teachers as he tried to think of an appropriate response. If it were up to him, he would've just slapped a "thank you" on a piece of paper and asked Ruggie to give it to you.

Though he thought that perhaps it was better for him to actually put in effort for once. Even if it seemed like his so called effort seemed like something he just stole from the internet—that was more than enough, right? He'll just put his signature at the bottom and ask Ruggie to give it to you.

Ruggie Bucchi

"Hey you," a big grin took over his face as he wrote down his first few words. He wasn't as experienced as other people when it came to writing down messages of gratitude, he once tried consulting Leona about it—asking how to make it sound decent only to be met with an answer that went like: "Just put whatever."

And that's what he did! Truly, he's thankful for receiving a gift. For a split second, he wondered if he should share it with the people back in his homeland. Though he pushed that thought to the back of his head as he signed the bottom of the paper with his signature. He'll figure that out once he gives the letter to you.

Jack Howl

"Friend," he doesn't know what to say it's embarassing. Even in letters, he still manages to retain that straightforward yet somewhat roundabout personality of his. A tinge of embarrassment seeping through the letter.

He wished he could've just talked to you in person instead but alas, he was stuck here trying to rack his brain for words. In the end, he felt like it was best to keep it simple—the slightly demanding tone at the end was the result of him getting flustered at the thought that it's possible that it could be a date between the two of you.

Azul Ashengrotto

"My dear friend," Azul couldn't count the number of times he had crumpled a piece of paper and threw it into the trashcan only to get a new one—rinse and repeat. Jade and Floyd had to stifle their laughter when they saw how distressed he was over a single message. Though, perhaps that was the fruit of his unconventional feelings towards the giver.

He didn't want to sound too stiff and professional to the point that he sounded like a robot but also, he didn't want to sound too casual to the point that you might find it weird. He had to let out a small sigh as he ruffled his hair, another piece of paper thrown into the trash can before deciding that he should just play it safe and give you a free drink.

Jade Leech

"To my dearest," oh no. His hand slipped and accidentally made his greeting more intimate than it should be, he could go back and change it but—fufu, where's the fun in all of that? His lips tugged up into a smirk as he continued writing, knowing full well that what he was implying would evoke an interesting reaction out of you. But, if that wasn't enough to stir you up a bit then why not put a little more something? He was a prick this way.

He spotted an empty space on one of his shelves in the corner of his eye, glancing at it for a few seconds before an idea popped into his head. A smile that barely showed off his sharp canines, hidden beneath his gloved hand.

"Truly. Would I lie to you?"

Floyd Leech

"Little shrimpy," he grinned. Floyd was in an especially good mood today after receiving such a thoughtful gift from you. He played with his pen in hand, spinning it around as a distant look took over his face when he tried thinking about the reason why you gave him a gift out of nowhere.

Knowing that Floyd pays a little more attention to you than others, he was bound to be curious and he was more than eager to find out—there's always a reason behind someone's actions, after all. He tried expressing his intent to get the answer out of you which came out a little threatening but if you saw the look on his face there's no mistaking that it was an even bigger threat than you initially thought.

Kalim Al-Asim

"Hey love," Kalim was as straightforward as ever. Not a single filter as he wrote down his raw feelings. There was no reason for him to hesitate especially now that he was practically about to shake from pure joy—he was incredibly close to signing the letter and hopping into his magic carpet to give it to you personally but Jamil was there beside him to stop him if he ever does that.

Though that didn't mean that it was gonna stop him from wanting to ask you out on a magic carpet date with him, he'll just have to explain to Jamil when you accept his invitation. That is assuming you'll accept, right?

Jamil Viper

"Dear friend," Kalim practically forced him to write a letter back to you. Jamil wasn't an ingrate, he knew when to show gratitude when it was appropriate but he preferred thanking you in person. He had to settle for this in the meantime, he thought that maybe he'll just invite you to Scarabia to talk about what he could give in return.

He hadn't really expected a gift from you, especially with all the trouble he might've caused you due to his overblot. Though he didn't think it was all that bad. In fact, he felt a little relieved that you didn't hold any grudge against him.

Vil Schoenheit

"My dear," Vil had an unmistakable smirk placed upon his lips. The choice of words he wrote managed to give out a slightly smug vibe as he stared at your gift on his desk. Impressed by your ability for finding him a suitable gift, he decided to give you a little bit in return.

His smirk slowly turned into a gentle smile as he imagined your face probably tearing up at the thought of him giving you a signed card, he couldn't help but put an offhanded comment near the end. But it was quickly followed up with a single bit of rare praise from him.

Rook Hunt

"Hey love," Rook was always one to act dramatically whenever he had the chance and even in letters, he managed to sound dramatic. As soon as he realized that you had sent him a gift he started gushing about how wonderful it was and how inspiration was raining down on him like tiny droplets.

What's a better way to let his raw emotions out than poetry? That's right, this man wrote you a poem expressing how he feels because of your gift. He almost forgot to say his gratitude because he got carried away but thankfully, Epel pointed it out to him before he could give it to you.

Epel Felmier

"Dear friend," he rarely got any gifts from anyone outside his relatives so when he saw you give him a gift, he was excited to say the least. There's always a certain joy you can evoke in a person when you give them a gift it was almost euphoric for some. He thought that it was sweet of you to give him a gift and decided to give one back with a small message.

Friend. For some reason, it felt a bit off addressing you as that but he quickly shook his head and shot down that thought. As for his gift, he prepared a little something he made himself. Hehe, he's quite proud of it too!

Idia Shroud

"@YOU" it was interesting how Idia didn't bother changing to formal speech when he decided to give you a thank you message for your gift. He's typing the same way he would to his friend, namely "Crimson Muscle", but perhaps that was because he didn't know of any other way to talk to you without sounding unnatural or weird.

People would normally not even think about giving him something and yet you gave him one. He couldn't help but smile a bit when he said how you were a bit of an oddball—he came up with various nicknames for you inside his head. Most of them being different words for the term "weirdo". Yet they always had a hint of affection whenever he would think of it.

Malleus Draconia

"Dearest," Malleus started off. It was rare that he received gifts from people outside his family or nobles back in the Valley since a lot of people found him intimidating—terrifying for some, even. He was glad that you felt comfortable enough around him to show simple gestures such as these. Upon receiving your gift, Lilia noticed how it came from you and urged Malleus to write his thank you message differently from how he usually writes it.

Did you perhaps know of the legends surrounding the Thorn Witch...? If so, then maybe he could sneak in a little joke. The gift of beauty and the gift of song—ah, nevermind. He pursed his lips slightly, he'll just handpick a gift for you himself. A small gargoyle statue, maybe. Or he could ask the other members of Diasomnia to help him.

Lilia Vanrouge

"My dear," his lips formed a small smirk. Lilia appreciated all surprises, big or small. Though, in particular, something about your surprise gift made him more excited about it than usual. Was that just his old age getting to him or was it something else? He couldn't be bothered to think about it that much.

As a form of gratitude, he weighed his options. It was either giving you a gift back or letting you ask a favour of him. He thought the latter would be more acceptable until an idea popped into his head as his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. He knew you didn't know what it exactly meant but he gave you his signature nonetheless—he'll leave you to figure out.

Silver

"Hey you," Lilia taught Silver that it was common courtesy to show gratitude when someone gives him a gift. He tried thinking of countless ways to say thank you with his old man bugging him to ask you out on a date instead in the background. In the end, he paid Lilia no attention and instead went with the standard short message and giving a gift back.

He urged himself not to fall asleep as he typed out his message even though he already let out a yawn without him noticing. He glanced at the screen blankly, wondering if he forgot to add anything until he slowly felt himself snoozing off. Head resting on the keyboard and typing out whatnot. When Lilia arrived at the scene, he didn't bother waking him up and just sent the message as it is.

Silver was so embarassed the next day and refused to talk to Lilia temporarily.

Sebek Zigvolt

"Human," he didn't even try addressing you as anything else other than that even in letters. When he found a gift lying by his room, he was a tad suspicious but loosened up when he read the tag attached to it. As stated, it came from you and the gift was meant for Malleus—wait, what. Sebek scrunched up his face as his eyes scanned the words printed on it.

"To Sebek Zigvolt" This was a mistake, right? Sebek was a bit flushed but quickly shook it off by saying how it was probably a subterfuge or whatever that was. There was no way it was for actually for him, right? Surely, you must've sent this in hopes of hearing more about the great Malleus Draconia. Right?

That is... Wonderful!

Grim

"Dear underling," it was cute how he made an effort to write you a letter despite being in the same dorm wherein he could just talk to you directly. But perhaps he was so touched to the extent that he wanted to do this—did you give him tuna? He struggled thanking you properly and ended up boasting about how he was going to be the greatest sorcerer.

Even though he called you underling at first, he couldn't help but soften up a bit. That didn't sit right with him somehow, he didn't know why. He let out a groan as he racked his head for a more appropriate word until-!

Partner... Sounds about right.

[cherri-cherri]

Pairings - Yuuji Itadori x Reader x Ryomen Sukuna

Synopsis - Ever since Yuuji moved away to Tokyo, you've been noticing some odd changes from him, it's almost as if...he was becoming another person all together.

Theme - Monster by Imagine Dragons

A/N - An idea hit me in the head while I was working and I wanted to try this out so badly with both Yuuji and Sukuna! A concept of 'What if the vessel wasn't just the vessel?'. The vessel would eventually merged with the being to become something new altogether, and I thought...yes. why the heck not. This is gonna be a long one, So let's hop right it! Because I really like this idea, theres a good chance this is going to be either split up into parts or I'm gonna keep visiting this every now and then.

Warning - The characters in this story will be aged up due to NSFW content here. Dirty NSFW scenes sprinkled in, Gore Warning, Abuse, Etc.

-------------------

He didnt want this...

All he wanted was to keep those he cared about safe. Lying to you at the time seemed like a good idea, especially since you weren't tied into the mystical world he was now tied to, and he didn't want you too. But now, perhaps he should've told you everything.

About the finger, about the school, and...

About Sukuna.

You couldn't exactly remember why you originally said yes to the pink haired boy when he asked you to join his occult club activities that night. Maybe it was because of the fact you have nothing really better to do, or maybe because traveling through a forest of possible gruesome death seemed the most attractive thing to you at the time, yet you an Yuuji grew close together that night. Truth be told, walking through those woods during the dead of night was actually creepier than you thought but he was there by your side to comfort you the entire time, holding your hand while cracking a few jokes every now and then to calm your nerves.

"You're not scared? You seem so..well calm?" You asked, looking up at Yuuji with furrowed brows as he just smiled down at you. "Nah, not really. It's just darker and a few trees are around. Not really anything scary, right?" He said, rubbing the back of his neck while chuckling.

Maybe it was because of the warmth of his hands wrapped around your own or how comforting the presence he gave off was to you but it was probably then that your feelings for Yuuji began to grow.

"What you're going to Tokyo?" You questioned, watching Yuuji prepared a few boxes to pack his things. "Yeah, transferring schools. I'm, um .. I'm recieving a sports scholarship at a school there." Placing a few more of things away was when he finally turned to see you, clearly upset over just now being told this. Sure, you should've been happy to see your best friend be able to leave to accomplish more out of his life but it was the thought of him leaving you here that hurt the most. When he saw your face and the conflicted look on it, Yuuji stepped over towards you before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in your embrace.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I just—" before he could finish his sentence, you stood up on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck and simply smiled to him. "You don't have to say a thing, Yuuji, I'm happy for you. Just promise me that you'll stay safe out there for me, 'kay?"

Your words alone reminded him why he had to leave, why he had to go and leave you here. It was to keep you safe, safe from curses and safe from the curse lying dormant inside of him now. "R-right...Thank you, Y/N"

The school days were quiet once when Yuuji transferred schools. Sadly enough, the occult club had to disband after he left due to them not having enough members with Iguchi still hospitalized. Now it just seemed..boring without him there but he still seemed to have brighten your day with the photos he would send you every day of the bright city lights and bustling streets. His little messages and calls always well timed to reassure you that just because you aren't blocks away from each other anymore doesn't mean you won't still be friends.

So far, you've became pretty happy with Yuuji and how he's able to come so far in Tokyo. He speaks greatly about his sensei and his new classmates known as Fushiguro and Kugasaki, who from the sound of it, are a bit of a handle but great friends who still treat him well. Every week when he had his day off, he would spend time on video call to talk to you and even show you cool things that he either found around the city or around the school's campus.

Tonight however..he was late. Sure, it didn't bother you really if he was punctual or on time since this was Yuuji we were talking about here but there was a tad bit of worry lingering in your head. Soon enough, as soon as that ugly feeling of worry and doubt began to surface, Yuuji's icon appeared on the screen on the laptop as it began to ring to which you quickly opened.

"Yuuji, hey— oh my god, your face." You said right away, gasping a little at the cuts and bruises littered not only on his face but from the looks of it, his arms and shoulders too. Has he been fighting? "What? Oh, oh! These! Yeah, Fushiguro and Gojou-Sensei kinda roughen me up a little today during training but it's no sweat, really! Barely feel a thing," Yuuji tried to give you a reassuring smile while patting his right shoulder only to wince a little in pain from the impact of the pat.

"First the weird scars on your face, now bruises? Dude, I get that this is a sports thing but don't you think it's a little extreme?"

Hearing the worry in your voice, Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand nervously as he tried to think of a way to reassure you until a deep voice came from that same hand, chuckling softly.

"What's this? A woman talking to the brat...? How amusing." Sukuna.

Hearing the voice, Yuuji instantly flinched and lowered his arms out of the camera's view. Panic shot through his body as you stared at the screen with a raised brow. "Oh, is someone there with you now? Didn't know you had a roommate."

Oh good, you didn't see him. It wasn't as if he was afraid of you meeting Sukuna, he was afraid of telling you the truth about everything. About how he was now a vessel for ancient being, how he was studying cursed energy and jujutsu, how he died yet came back to life..dumping so much on you with the chance that you might never speak to him again out of fear, out of disgust. That you stop being his friend, and that he would never..he would never—

"Yuuji?" Tapping the screen a little on your laptop as it shook the camera, he soon stared back at you and laughed nervously. "O-oh right, he's only here for a little bit of time, so I figured what's really the point in telling you"

"Really now? Could've swore I was here to stay with you forever. You could at least introduce me to your friend here." Sukuna felt a great amusement watching Yuuji squirm just to keep you in the dark. Yuuji quickly began stammering on his words, throwing you off as he made a quick excuse to leave the call early. Before you could even say a single word, he clicked ended the facetime before sighing to himself and leaning back against his chair.

"...What is the point in keeping me hidden? We are practically one now, me as you and you as me, Brat." Sukuna said, his mouth now appearing on the left side of his cheek with the eyelid opening to stare up at the boy. "Are you scared of me paying your little toy a visit? Young and no doubt a virgin, I could have some fun with her—" Yuuji quickly slapped a hand against the mouth in attempt to hush the curse only for Sukuna to migrate to the hand.

"I won't let that happen, Sukuna." Yuuji said, frowning as he heard the curse chuckle. He didn't like the sound of how he described his bond to the soul sleeping inside of him, how they were one in the same. Shaking his head, the boy tried to reassure himself that he was nothing like Sukuna and simply went to turn off the lights and sleep on it. The last thing he heard before slumber took him were the ominous words of Sukuna,

"You'll see I was right soon enough, brat..."

A week later, Yuuji came back home to visit you. It was one of the days where the school allowed their students a break from their studies and classes and so he wanted to spend it with you as a surprise. And indeed you were surprised. When you had rushed downstairs, you did so wearing only a red sleeved t-shirt that the pink haired male might have left behind with a pair of gray shorts, and so when you opened the door to see the cheery face of your best friend well...it may have left you a bit flustered.

"Hey, Y/—" you quickly shut the door in his face, collapsing on your knees as you felt your cheeks beginning to burn. 'Why of all days, Itadori?!' You thought to yourself as she slowly stood back up and cracked the door open to see Yuuji's baffled face. He looked like a puppy..a sad puppy who was just kicked off his owner's bed and it broke you. Before long, he was now in your house and sitting in the living room couch while you were in the kitchen preparing tea. Your father was currently away on business while god knows what your mother was..it was just the two of you.

And it was awkward.

As you prepared tea on the kettle, Yuuji couldn't help but look at the shirt you were wearing as a small pink blush was lightly spreading on his cheeks. In a way, it filled him with a strange feeling seeing you walking around in something of his, seeing you wearing his shirt made him..prideful. didn't help with how short your shorts were either, it was practically hugging onto your as—

"So, it's just you? Dude, you should've told me you were coming! I would've been more prepared..I barely have any snacks or anything here right now." You grumbled, snapping his attention away to listen to what you were saying. "Hey, no worries, Y/N. Honestly, I'm just hungry for something else..." that last part through him off as he covered his mouth. That wasn't his voice. No, it was but that wasn't him speaking.

As he turned his head to the side to the balcony door, there the boy saw it in his reflection. The eye of Sukuna staring right back at him, causing him to quickly cover the eye.

"Huh? Alright, well what are you hungry for? Theres probably some ramen around here someone or we could just go out to a place to eat if you want.." you questioned, back turned away from him as you began to take the now whistling kettle off the stove. No, he couldn't deal with this now, not while you were only feet away from him. Yet the more he watched you in the reflection, the more he saw your curves in those pretty little shorts or your braless breasts bounce with ease under his stolen shirt...

Shaking his head, Yuuji soon stood up from the couch and placed on his jacket. "I'm sorry, N/N, But I have to go—"

"Wait what but–"

"Sorry, u-um, Gojou-Sensei said something came up and I have to go back! I'm sorry but I'll make it up to you— I promise!" Before you could even protest, he was already out of the door and gone. As he left, you could've swore you saw an eye on his cheek where one of his scars were but that was impossible, right?

-----------------------

He honestly had no idea where he was going to run off to but the boy knew that if Sukuna had a chance to take over and you were in front of him, would've hurt you or worse. Seeing your disappointed face yet again almost shattered his heart completely and when Yuuji finally came to a halt, he found himself beside a small stream and sighed. This was all for the best. It was to keep you safe, or so he kept telling himself.

"Damn, to think you would actually run away when she was begging for you to take her there. What a wimp.." Sukuka said, mouth manifesting on Yuuji's neck as his eye looks up at frowning boy. "Its not often you get an open invitation from a woman. If I was in control, I would've taken her then and there and ram my co‐" Yuuji quickly slapped a hand over the mouth as a faint blush appeared on his cheeks, him now thinking back to you and how pretty you looked wearing his shirt. "S-shut up. Don't go saying such gross crap."

"You know you feel the same. I can see that she affects you even now judging by the sight of your pants. You wanted to stuff her with your seed just as much as I did." Sukuna said, the mouth now on his hand. Much to Yuuji's surprise, his dark brown eyes quickly shot down to his pants and just as Sukuna said, there was a raging boner standing up at attention. Swallowing his guilt, he tried to cover it only for his pinky finger to slowly graze the fabric and giving his cock a small jolt. The boy hissed a little and quickly placed his hands to his side.

"I-i..I just.." "No need to be embarrassed. That girl isn't anything typically special but just seeing her, seeing her ass in such revealing clothing. Women of this era must be extremely dirty~" Sukuna chuckled "and hearing your thoughts, you certainly surprised me, Brat..." the more Sukuna spoke, the more Yuuji thought back to you. Seeing your breasts and ass was truthfully hot, even if you weren't exactly his type, he still found you beautiful. Slowly without him even noticing, his hand slowly motioned for his cock once more and in the silence of the forest, Yuuji Itadori thought only of you during his time in pleasure.

-----------------------

It wasn't until later on into the night that Yuuji had finally texted you back, saying he would back tomorrow to make things up with you. Sure, it did cheer you up that he would be back but the way he was acting lately made you feel like something was wrong. If you ever asked, he would change the subject or just smile at you awkwardly as if admitting to hiding something but you won't force him tell you what was wrong. When He was ready, he would tell you for sure and you'll wait for however long he wanted.

"N/N, Everything alright?" Yuuji asked, gaining your attention as you snapped back to the present and out of your thoughts. Looking around, you found yourself staring ahead at a bag of popcorn and the large bright ights of a ferris wheel constantly in motion. That's right, the local fairgrounds, Yuuji had wanted to go one more time before he returned back to Tokyo and since you always liked the food here, you of course said yes. "O-oh, yeah! I'm fine. Just looking ahead at the wheel. Remember last time we were here some kid ended up puking on Sasaki from a cart above us?"

"Haha! Yeah, she smelled of salty tuna for weeks afterwards and it left a stain on her uniform" He laughed, staring at the wheel as he thought about the memory. As you stared at him and watch his smile, it had then reassured you that this was still your best friend and you smiled back. For a moment, the two of you were having a blast at the small fair, playing some of the games set up by the booths (and being turned away after Yuuji broke a few with his strength..) it felt like old times all over again. "Wanna play another game or play at bumper carts? We still have some time to kill before you gotta go back?" You asked, carrying some of the plushie prizes the two of you (mainly Yuuji) earned, you looked over to your side and saw a cotton candy display before your attention turns back to Yuuji, The two of you decided just for a moment to sit down at a small metal bench to rest your feet for a moment

Seeing the display, an idea popped up in his head and the words of Gojou appeared in his mind. 'You want advice on how to swoon a girl? Well take small hints when she gives them to you, if her eyes are lingering on something then that's probably a sign she wants it—'. Seeing as how you kept looking up at the cotton candy, he thought this might have been his chance and sat down his own plushies. Without saying a word, Yuuji got up and walked over to the stand, leaving you there by the table alone with your horde of plush creatures.

Seeing you seating there at the bench by yourself, a group of punks who looked to be close to your age strolled up to you, two of them taking a seat on each side of you while the third one was standing right behind you. "Fine evening, isn't it, love. What's a sweet little thing like you doing here by yourself, you looking for some fun?" The purple haired male said on your left side, lowering his shades as he stared noticeably at your chest. "Actually, I'm here with a friend and this seat is for him so if you could jus—" "oh a 'friend'? But I don't see this friend now, so maybe you could tag along with us back to our place and we'll show you a fun time." The punk behind you said, his hands now pressed firmly on both of your shoulders as he leaned in a bit closer to you, causing you to flinch at his touch. "I, um.."

"N/N?"

Turning your head back to in front of you, you saw Yuuji there holding a blue and pink cotton candy stick and face emotionles. "N/N, huh? That's a cute name. This your friend, N/N?" The purple haired punk said, chuckling while rising from his seat "....." Yuuji remained silent for a bit as he stared off at the hands touching you, gripping onto your shoulder and clearly making you uncomfortable. He was typically known for being a calm guy but see this angered him beyond words.

'You see what they're doing to your woman, brat? You're just going to let it happen..?' Yuuji heard the inner words of Sukuna in his head, his eyes dart away from you to the guy standing in front of him, smirking as he touch the cotton candy from the pink haired boy's hand and taking a large bite of the webby treat. "This doesnt have to get rough, all you need to do is walk away and we'll show N/N-chan here a good time she'll never forget." He said, licking his tongue over his lips.

As Yuuji's lips parted, he heard a groan coming from you as you squirmed in the other guys hold with the second punk was now leaning into your neck. Seeing your frown of discomfort, they way they were touching what was rightful his , All he needed to hear were those small words from Sukuna.

'They're touching your woman, they're hurting her. Finish.. them.. off.'

Yuuji stood there for a moment, remaining silent as he lowered his hand, a shadow now cast over his face. Opening one of your eyes as you squirm in the punk's hold, you saw something that made your heart almost stop beating altogether. That smile on his face, that malevolent smile and empty eyes as he held onto the purple haired Male's now broken arm.

The next thing was a blur. The screams of your harassers echoed around you and you heard a wet sound looping over and over again as well as hard thuds. Opening your eyes, you saw it. Two of the thugs bloodied and bruised as their limbs were bent in ways you couldn't imagine, one of them dangling up above you on a tree branch while the other one was limp inside of the cotton candy stand. Looking around for the third one, you saw him behind held against one of the food stands while Yuuji was there gripping his hand over the punk's neck. You couldn't exactly show him any mercy and yet Yuuji was clearly taking things too far, even when the guy tried to beg for mercy and claw his way out of your friend's hold, all Yuuji did was stand there with a grin you've never seen before. It wasnt one of his innocent smiles or mischievous grins, no, it was one of pure sadism. "P-please stop, I'm sorry..I'm sorry.." "you didn't stop when she wanted you too, So why should I?" Yuuji tilted his head to the side a little, chuckling a little as his grip tightened and the man gasped out for air "you'll pay for what you did. You'll all fucking pay..."

The air in your chest almost stopped filling your lungs completely as you watch this. That wasn't the Yuuji you knew, he would've never went this far just to prove a point! Slowly taking a step forward and then another and then slowly speeding up, you reached out and held onto the arm Yuuji was holding the punk up with. "Yuuji, stop it! You'll kill him if you keep this up!" You yelled only to feel a blow strike your face and send you tumbling back a few feet, causing you to scream out in pain. "Stay out of this." Was all he said until freezing and slowly turning back to see what he had done.

Crimson was spilling from your nose onto your shirt and it was gushing out by the bucket to which you quickly covered as you stared up at Yuuji with teary eyes. Regret instantly overwhelmed him as he dropped the thug and slowly reached over to you, his senses coming back to him. "N/N?" He questioned, almost checking to see if you were alright but you backed away as he stepped over to you. What has he done..? Why did he..? He watched you slowly back away with each step, fear in your bright (E/C) eyes and it broke him. "Hey, w-what's wrong? I was only trying to protect them from you, you don't have to be scared."

As people began to crowd in, brought in by the noise of fighting and your scream, Yuuji hand ghosted over the skin of yourself shoulder and you flinched. You flinched at his touch..So many feelings began to overwhelm him that he didn't notice the look of horror in your eyes as you watched what thought were scars slowly twitch and open up, revealing bright red eyes staring directly at you.

"They were going to hurt you," 'She's scared of you now after all you've done' "I saved you! They won't touch you like that again!" 'She sees you for what you are, brat.' "I just wanted to keep you safe!" With each yell, Yuuji watched as you grew more and more scared, the people around all of you terrified as they watched and some even grabbing whatever they could that could be a weapon. Gripping his head as he felt an intense pain through his skull, it was then he noticed..how small you looked as he towered over you. When did you get so small? He thought to himself, bending down to grab you when he saw his arm.

His nails were a dark purple shade, sharper and three black markings were on his wrist. Turning his head a little to one of the booth's and staring into the window was when the truth hit Yuuji hard. His body was different and taller now for some reason and Sukuna's markings were slowly appearing over his face. He was..slipping?

"Y-yuuji, what the hell is happening to you.." he heard you whisper yet before he could respond, there was the sharp pain of something blunt hitting his shoulder. Looking to his feet, he saw a medium sized rock and there another and another. The people were launching what they could at him, yelling at him to leave the girl alone and to leave. Yelling for his death, calling him a monster, calling him a curse. He stared at you for a moment, seeing how now tears leaking from your eyes and Yuuji stepped away before fleeing.

"Yuuji, wait!!" He heard your frantic yell from behind him but it didn't slow him down as he kept running further into the distance and leaving you behind. Your yells becoming drowned out by the mad laughter of Sukuna echoing in his mind.

-----------------------

No, he didn't want this at all. The day was meant to go differently, it was meant to be just the two of you having fun together and end with the ferris wheel and him finally telling you that he...

Thunder crackled outside of the decrepit shrine the boy had taken shelter in, rain pouring outside by the gallons. As he watched the raindrops in silence, Yuuji saw how the scenery slowly began to shift around him as the sky became more malevolent and the cold concrete he was sitting on now a pool of crimson water with piles on top of piles of bones surrounded him. The memories of the fairground echoed in his mind over and over again on loop of him hitting you and your look of fear haunting him, causing his eyes to water.

"Aw, are you going to cry, brat..?"

Yuuji remained silent as he waited for Sukuna to appear at any moment, yet he never came, only his voice lingered around him. "This is all of your fault.." Yuuji whispered, staring off into the rain. "My fault? I don't understand. If I recall, you were to one who eat my finger. You were the one who signed up for being my vessel, everything that has been done was all you..I merely watched from here."

"Bullshit! You made me hurt her..you made me like this!" Yuuji screamed out, flashes of who he did to those thugs showing through his mind, "You made me hurt them!"

"...No, that was all you. You can blame me all you want but I felt what you felt, saw what you saw and you loved every second of that fight. Whipping those who displease you in place, kicking the asses of the men who touched what was yours. Gotta say, made me tear up watching everything unfold" Hear the curse's chuckle echo around in the shrine, Yuuji quickly stood up and yelled out for Sukuna to show himself, only for him to collapse on his knees when feeling an sharp pain in his torso.

"No need to show myself, I'm already with you as close as I can."

Gritting his teeth in pain it was then that Yuuji saw his reflection staring back at him in the water, grinning ear to ear with malice in those sharp fangs.

"You see , Brat, becoming my vessel didn't just mean I was trapped inside of you..no no..You would slowly become me. Your small soul means shit compared to mine and it will be swallowed whole by me. I just needed us to be bound for some time and you would be mine..."

As the reflection spoke to him, Yuuji screamed out in pain as he felt his bones inside of him crack and twist as if they were rearranging themselves. His stomach felt as if it was being cut open entirely as the flesh began to slowly pull apart while tearing open the yellow hoodie in the process, the meat of his torso was forced open as a tongue lulled out and licked his abs like they were lips. The sides of his waist felt as if someone was taking a pair of axes and were merely swinging it down as flesh began to bubble through and bones formed one by one until two new pair of arms were fully shaped. Taking a deep breath, Yuuji slowly chuckled as one of his hands reached up to his head and gripped it and the others wrapped around his waist.

"N-no..no..i.."

"You should be honoured, Yuuji. You get the privilege of becoming one with me, my power is now yours and yours mine." His lips, against his will, began to speak the words of Sukuna as they formed into a forced grin. "N-no..I haven't told her yet. I haven't told N/N that I love—"

"Yuuji?"

Once when he blinked, Yuuji found himself no longer in the shrine but sitting inside of his desk in his old desk with you standing beside him. Seeing you before him, safe and smiling at him, the boy quickly stood up and wrapped his arms around you which took you for surprise in the process but you simply allowed him to let it all out when you hugged him back. "Well hello to you too, welcome back to earth, how was your trip to space..?" You said, chuckling before feeling something wet on your shoulders. His tears.

"Y/N..I..I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything, I should've told you everything. I should'nt have hit you. I just wanted to protect you because...because...I love you!" His words surprised you but you simply smile. "I love you too, Yuuji."

Staring back down at the reflection before him of the boy hugging onto you tightly as he weeped, dark brown eyes shift to that of a bright velvet shade. Sukuna chuckled while stretching out his newly formed body. How good it felt to be back in control, to have actual flesh again and to see this brand new world all to himself. Sure, his power was not what it used to be but he would regain all of his fingers soon enough. As his domain faded away and he found himself back in the decrepit old shrine, he smirked to himself while debating his next order of business.

"Y/N L/N...Maybe I should do this body a favor and seize you for my own."

-----------------------

He wouldn't answer any of your calls or texts. No one has heard or seen of him but now there was a witch hunt for your best friend. As you laid in your dimly lit bedroom with bandages over your nose, you stared down at your phone anxiously awaiting something from Yuuji.

Ring~~~

Ring~~~

Hearing the sound of your phone vibrating, you quickly shot up from the covers an grabbed the phone, unlocking it right away and placing it to your ear.

"Hello?" There was nothing but silence on the other end, the soft howling of the wind being the other thing you could really make out. "Hello..?"

"N/N.." your heart practically stopped for a moment but you felt almost a wave of relief hearing his voice on the other line. "Oh thank god, Yuuji..Are you ok—" "N/N, open the window." Was all he said before then line went dead and you were left sitting there baffled. Did he make it back to your house? Slowly crawling out of the bed and slipping on your bedroom slippers, you walked over towards the window and moved the blinds down only a little to peep outside. Standing there in your backyard, shirtless and with his hands in his pockets was Yuuji, seemingly back to normal and everything. There were not increased height, no weird markings, he looked fine and apart of you wondered if it was just the force of his punch that made you see him change. No..because everyone else saw his appearance too.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted up the blinds and unlatched the window. The second that it was free and opened up, Yuuji had jumped above onto the roof and crawled inside to your room. "Y-yuuji, you have a lot of explaining to do— Whoa, whoa!" You took a step back cautiously but he soon grabbed ahold of your wrist and pulled you close to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck. "I know I do, but first I just want to say I'm sorry to you, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you.." he said, whispering in a soft tone as his hold on you tighten a bit.

"I'm leaving here after tonight but I just had to see you to tell you that I..I love you. I love you, Y/N" Taken back by his words, you felt yourself being pushed onto your bed and watched as the boy loomed over you before crawling onto the mattress.

He loved you. Those words practically made your heart skipped over so many times that you were positive that you had stopped breathing. "Let me come with you, Yuuji." You said, reaching up to his face and caressing his cheeks, "I don't know what's happening but you can trust me. I won't let you go through this alone and I'll always be here with you."

He didn't say much after that. All he did was lower his head a little until your lips were merely inches away from each other before he pressed them together. The sensation you felt was one like fireworks. Those butterflies in your stomach exploding and multiplying over and over again as you felt his tongue licking your bottom lip but you pulled away before he could fully explore your mouth.

"Always..? So you will always stay with me, N/N?" He whispered, head dipping down to your neck as he left a trail of kisses down your warm skin until he kissed the base of your throat. "Yeah..I will." "Do you swear..?" His hands began to grip your hips, running the tips of his fingers against your clothed thighs while he began to press his own hips to your own.

"I-I swear.." you said, staring up at Yuuji with a small smile. He stared at you for a moment, smiling down at you before sitting up, his large hand covering the upper half of his face.

"That's all I need to make you mine." Sliding his hand upwards was when you saw it. Those spare eyes once again on Yuuji's cheeks, staring at you as if it you were nothing but glass. That sincere smile that calmed your soul became a mischievous grin, showing the sharpened fangs he now had. You watched as those pitch blackp markings began to spread over his skin and yet the moment you sat up, two fully grown arms pinned you down onto the mattress. "Almost as naive as the brat himself but I suppose there is some charm to the naivete of a woman. Makes it easier to influence, to change.." 'Yuuji' said, dipping his head down to your ear before biting down on the lobe of it. You gasped out, squirming in his hold.

"Let me go, Yuuji! I don't know what's going on but I want to help! Just let me help you!" You yelled out to him but soon silenced yourself as you noticed the scenery of your bedroom changing. All of your furniture began to disappear one by one as a red hue began to spread around the two of you

In the blink of an eye, you were taken to Sukuna's innate domain. The water that replaced the softness of your bed now causing your back to soaked and your hair now spread out and floating in the depths. "Yell all you want but that brat can't hear you anymore. Gone forever in a dream that will never come true, but I promise I will keep you company in his stead. By the time I am done with you, will forget all about him. All you'll want is me, all you'll ever need is me. The name Ryomen Sukuna will burned into your soul and you'll learn to worship me, N/N..."

With a single swing, the soft yet wet cotton fabric of your shirt and shorts was torn off of you with ease and revealed your now exposed flesh to the cold. Sukuna stared down at them, his tongue licked over his long and sharp fangs as his eyes motioned down to your folds. His hand traveled down your thighs before his finger swiped against the outer circle of your lips yet he looked displeased from what he felt. "Dry as a drought but that's fine. I'll be fucking you regardless" he said, his index finger slowly pushing inside of your virgin cunt causing you to gasp out for air and arch your back. "You tighten just now, dirty whore...Did you often fantasise Yuuji stuffing his cock inside of you...?" he whispered into your ear intimately, he kissed the bottom of your ear and moved onto your neck, sucking until he found the soft spot that made you inhale deeply. 

Sukuna sucked on your neck while constantly kept inserting his finger in you, pumping in and out, eventually adding a second digit. He curled his fingers and caused you let out a faint moan as his finger crept closer to your sweet spot over and over. It was too much, you thought as he bit down onto your soft skin, and you were feeling so good from it so far and it made you ashamed. this demon, this thing was in your best friend's body and now he was using it to currently assault your body but the feeling of it all was too good. You had to keep your eyes shut for looking up at Sukuna tugged at your heart as all you saw was Yuuji.

"Oh you are loving this..." parting from your neck,he looked pleased seeing the angry red hickey left behind.

"I-im not...I'm not..." A moan escaped your lips, feeling something wet replace his fingers. Lifting your head, you saw a mouth on the palm of his hand and its tongue gently licking the nub of your clit almost like a lollipop. "Feels good, doesn't it, N/N..?" His tone was nothing less than mocking, the mouth taking ahold of one of your lips with its teeth causing you to scream out. "I said, it feels good doesnt it? Speak when your master is speaking to you. "

"Y-yes! It feels amazing!" You tasted so sweet on his tongue, circling your clit, lapping at your clenching entrance, kissing your folds. "A-Ah~" You whimper when he folds your legs to your chest, He takes another nip at your clit, as he listened to your hushed whines. Your moans were music to his ears, yet what he wanted from you was his name. The thought of his former vessel's love screaming his name turned him on, the thought of keeping you only fueling the flames. It was harder and harder for him to contain hisself when you're drowning in the pleasure of his mouth licking and sucking at your sloppy pussy.

"I'll take you as mine. You'd like that wouldn't you? Being the woman of the king of curses, waiting for me to return to fill you to the brim." sweat felt like it was pooling out of your body from the attention he was giving to on your clit. Your bucking hips were a clear sign that you were close and so, he pulled his hand away.

"You don't get to come yet. You're only allowed to when you're milking my cock."

The things he did to were things no man has ever done before. Scratches and cuts littered your flesh and bruises were on your sore ass and stomach. There a few times to where you had even blacked out from the amount of pleasure he had given you..

Now you found yourself with you riding his swollen cock as he stared up at you with satisfied eyes, grunting while large hands were pressed against your abused breasts as his hips pumped up into your leaking cunt. Your head felt like it was spinning as you screamed out, orgasm crashing hard as your cunt tightened around his shaft.

As you felt his throbbing cock inside of you, his hand grabbed ahold of your chin and your lips made contact. Sukuna only pulled away when he silently cursed, his seed releasing inside of you for what felt like the billionth time. Taking a deep breath, he stayed inside of your warm hole, not wanting a single drop to spill and kissed your cheek.

Fucking you only assured his choice of keeping you as he own. Sukuna was going to original kill you while taking Yuuji's appearance after taking you but holding you close like this as you soon became limp (no doubt exhausted), your warmth against his own and staring down at your cum stained face..it made something inside him feel strange.

A weakness no doubt, but one at the moment that could keep him entertained. Combing a loose strand of hair behind your ears, Sukuna chuckled.

"From this day forth, you will be my bride. Consider yourself lucky..."

[aetheternity]

Hard Pass P3 (Levi X Reader)

Synopsis: Levi is forced out of his comfy dorm room and in a strange twist of events right into your arms at a college party.

Levi was relieved for the silence as he clicked away at his keyboard. Mike had gone to his only late class of the entire week. Which meant Levi could actually study in his room.

The scent of tea and the small aroma diffuser on his desk as well as the open window in front of him welcomed a nice calming smell that was normally masked by Mike's gym bags and sweaty clothes. Which reminded Levi of the laundry he would have to do soon.

He pressed his tea cup to his lips feeling a twinge of irritation as he was interrupted by two knocks on the door. He looked down at the time. 6:15. A little too early for Mike to be back complaining that he'd forgotten his keys.

Then it was probably one of his girls complaining that she'd left her shit in the room. If Levi had a dollar for the amount of times that had happened he could pay for a new roommate.

The next couple knocks were a bit louder. "Levi? It's Y/N.."

Y/N?!

His face practically exploded. He stood far too fast because just as quickly he was flopping over his stupid desk chair and hitting the floor with a hard thud. He gasped audibly tugging at his knee and gritting his teeth.

"Levi? Are you ok?" Came her voice again.

He pulled himself up with a huff and staggered over to the door. Unsurprisingly he had to limp. With a quick turn of the lock he yanked open the door right into his forehead. God fucking dammit.

He groaned in a mix of fury and disgust partially because he'd idiotically stood so close when opening the door and partially because he hated the stupid inanimate object.

"Oh my god! Are you ok?" Y/N gasped, squeezing herself inside and shutting the door behind her. "Let me see? Did you hit your eye?" She asked

Her fingers were so delicate as she brushed aside his hands. So close.. Her thumb traced the already appearing red spot on his forehead. Soo close.. She brushed his hair to the side cupping his cheeks to gently reposition his head towards the light. Close....

She breathed out a little chuckle. "It's probably gonna bruise."

Levi barely registered her words. Occupied with her beautiful eyes illuminating moonlight and the dim lights in his room. His lips parted ever so slightly. When her hands fell away he gulped and jerked his head back. Trying to find literally anything to take the edge off.

"I'll.. go find you an ice pack, ok?" Y/N began already heading for the door.

"K-knee.." Levi tried and mentally cursed himself.

"Huh?" She asked, turning back.

"M-my.. t-two please.."

Her smile was gentle, "Two ice packs. Got it." And with a little wave she was out the door. Her lingering touch still causing heat to pool in Levi's chest.

~~~~

"Aww sweetie, are you sure you're ok?"

He was not. Definitely not. One of her hands was on his uninjured knee and the other was brushing his hair away from the ice pack. He didn't even know if he'd breathed in the last 20 minutes. His brain echoing the word sweetie.

The two of you had been sat on his bed as he uncomfortably laid his head back on the wall. Trying and failing to not fixate on your touch. Every brush of your fingertips was downright intoxicating.

"You look kinda red. Do you wanna try seeing a doctor or something?"

"N-no.." It was barely audible but he knew she heard when she nodded.

If there was a hole nearby he would crawl into it and never come out. Though he also didn't wanna move as the fear of making this situation worse for himself stayed ever present.

"Let me see?" He partially removed the ice pack from his forehead, spine tingling over the way she sucked in a breath. "You should be more careful."

Levi didn't answer. Just squeezed his legs closer together and sighed. In all the time he'd been in this room he'd never hit himself in the face with the door. Just what kind of power did this girl have over him.

"I know because my little cousin has done stuff like this but you should put some cream on the bump so that it doesn't get redder and it'll go down faster."

Little cousin? That wasn't a fair comparison. Little kids do stupid things cause they're kids. Did she think about him that way? Uggghhhh.

He was yanked from his thoughts by her hand coming down to squeeze his. "Are you positive you're ok? Do you need anything else?"

"I-I'm fine.."

Just as Levi said that his attention was brought to the door. Mike had barely stepped into the room and he was already grinning like a fucking idiot.

"Well, hello." He greeted, stepping closer. "Levi, you didn't tell me you were inviting anyone over. Especially not a pretty girl."

Y/N's chuckle was nervous, "Hello, you must be Levi's roommate." She stuck her hand out which Mike immediately took placing one hand on top of their joined hands.

"And you must be Y/N." He said "I've heard so much about you."

His teasing was met with a glare that could slice concrete. If Levi had known Mike was gonna come straight back to the room he definitely would've gotten rid of Y/N sooner.

"Oh? Really?" Y/N turned to look at Levi behind her. "You told him about me?" It was a split second thing but Levi could've sworn her features softened.

"Oh, no I meant Hange." Mike replied

"Oh."

Oh? Was she disappointed? It sounded disappointed? Did she want Levi to talk about her?

"But at no point did Hange tell me you were this pretty. Neither did Levi honestly, I'm kinda disappointed."

Alright that's enough of that. Levi stood. Placing the ice packs on his bed.

"You should probably leave." He gritted his teeth at how harshly it came out.

Now Mike was letting go of Y/N's hand. "Oh wait! I came to get my phone. Hange said you had it."

Levi blinked. He'd almost forgotten about that. It had been sitting on his desk since yesterday. His knee was screeching in absolute horror as he staggered his way over to his desk.

"What the hell happened to you?" Mike asked, clearly trying to hold back a snicker.

"Aw, it was an accident. I scared him."

Levi returned with the phone shooting daggers into Mike who pretended not to notice.

"Thank you." She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Y-yeah.."

"Did you put your number into it?"

Levi's face perked up a little. "Yes."

"Ok, then I'll text you later." She assured, brushing her finger tips over his forehead once again. "Goodnight boys." And with those last words she took off.

"Faking an injury?! I didn't think you had it in you!" Mike celebrated as soon as she was gone.

"Dickhead." Levi scoffed.

"Hey, is that any way to talk to the best friend who just confirmed your biggest fear moot?" Mike plopped down on his bed with a playful huff.

Levi flopped down into his desk chair, staring up at the ceiling. "One you're definitely not my best friend especially after that shit. And two I'm not you I don't fake shit to get girls."

"That would totally be hurtful if it wasn't true." Mike shrugged "I meant the fact that she doesn't have a boyfriend."

Levi practically flipped himself out of his chair. "How do you assume that."

"Simple. Hange told me about her ex boyfriend. By the way it was probably that guy that took her from the library that day. And Hange says that a lot of guys find Y/N attractive. Because of this her ex got too overprotective and they broke up. But he had no reason to be because Y/N would always tell people she had a boyfriend or at least around Hange she did."

Levi stared at his barely drunk tea. The liquid probably cold after being left on the table so long. So she had dated that guy.. He had been so tall and pretty muscular looking, was that her type? She didn't seem like she was going to get back together with him.. but he was still around.

"All I'm saying is she seems loyal. You better snatch her up before someone else does or she gets back together with her ex."

His attention was drawn away by his phone softly buzzing on his table. He pressed the on button, swiping his pin and clicking the notification as it popped up.

Hey Levi, it's Y/N.

Listen ik you said you're ok but I bought you some cream just in case. I'll bring it to you tm ;)

His heart fluttered and ached remembering her touch and her kind words. If he didn't full blown know Mike was staring at him he would probably hug his phone.

~~~~

Too much time had passed and suddenly the whole school was on break. Levi had been dreading this. Not because he was a workaholic like Mike claimed but because he knew Hange was gonna drag him away and make him vacation.

And no form of vacation could possibly be more relaxing for him than curling up in bed with some books, doing some casual cleaning, and drinking tea with light music playing at all times. Mike was definitely going home during this time so it'd be the perfect way to spend his break.

But Hange's family owned a couple lodges and that meant another year of begging for Levi to come ski and freeze his fingers and toes off.

"Come on, Levi!"

"Absolutely not."

"Erwin!" Hange called to him where he sat on Levi's bed, scrolling through his phone.

"You knew he was going to say no." Erwin replied

"Which is why I brought you to help me make my case." Hange complained

"You clearly made an error in judgment then." Erwin retorted

Mike laughed from where he was laying on his own bed. "Might as well give it up Hange, Levi is just too stubborn about this. We all know he wants to be close to all my junk while I'm gone cause he'll miss me."

"I wouldn't hesitate to tell your stalker where you're going over break." Levi spat

"She'll figure it out anyway. She's a high class stalker. And I'm not her first." The room fell in uncomfortable silence but Mike just leaned back giving his full attention to his phone screen.

"That disturbing remark aside.." Erwin began shaking his head. "I'm going."

"And that's supposed to change my mind? How'd Hange force you into it?"

"It may stun you but I chose to go through with this all on my own. There are studies that claim it's good for the mind to get away from normality during breaks or away from your comfort zone to properly clear your mind. It'll also help you make less mistakes when classes resume."

Hange smiled, "Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking."

Levi rolled his eyes. "If I go you can't beg me next year." Hange's loud shrill screeching made Levi's heart drop out of his ass.

"Finally!!" Hange screamed in excitement as she wrapped her arms around Levi's neck.

"Get off already! You're such a pest!"

And that was how Levi ended up on a train for almost three long hours with Hange blabbering on about nothing and Erwin sat in the seat across from the two of them listening to podcasts while staring out the window of his own very sad music video.

And all of the crap Erwin had spewed about getting away being more relaxing proved to be completely from the ass as Levi shivered along wrapped in two scarves, a pair of gloves, his long green coat that fell around his ankles and a winter hat plopped over his ears.

"Walk faster Levi! Is that the best your little legs can do?!" Hange called, somehow racing her way up the slope with three bags. One that wasn't even hers

Levi grunted in irritation. Not only were they walking up a hill but it was covered in snow so deep that every step felt like he was falling.

"Do you need help?" Erwin asked, not waiting for Levi to respond as he hoisted the overnight bag off his shoulders.

Levi just huffed. "I swear Hange was made in a lab."

"As possible as that is, Hange was basically raised in the snow so this is the equivalent of dust for her." Erwin replied as the two of them trudged along.

"Her parents own multiple ski lodges why the hell did we go to the one up a fucking hill."

"The other closest one was more than 6 hours away. Did you really wanna be stuck on a train with Hange for more than 6 hours?"

Levi just groaned as they finally walked through the surprisingly big doors of the huge ski lodge. Hange raced over to the front desk as Erwin slipped onto the lobby couch, followed by Levi who was still kicking snow off his boots and his second bag.

"What's in that bag?" Erwin questioned, nodding to the luggage Levi had yanked over his lap.

He exhaled loudly giving the bag a couple soft pats. "Clothes, extra boots, extra gloves, two bottles of cleaner and a small box of tea as well as some light reading material."

"When are you gonna have time to read? We're going to be skiing most of the time we're here."

"If you think I'm getting on a ski lift you have less working brain cells than Hange."

Erwin smirked with a roll of his eyes, "Alrighty then, what's in this bag."

"All of the shit that didn't fit in this bag, toothpaste, toothbrush, cologne, extra pairs of underwear-"

"Woah, Levi you can't just talk about your underwear in a public space." Erwin chuckled at his own joke.

Levi rolled his eyes, "It's bad for your health to hang around Mike as often as you do."

"How is it you're not dead yet then?" Erwin retorted

Hange had been chatting up the receptionist for almost 15 minutes, bouncing up and down in front of the desk and indulging him in the stories of their travel up here. The man just gave her a sheepish grin and honestly Levi felt a little bad for the man but a little less when he thought about how it wasn't his problem anymore.

Moblit.. his name tag read. Somehow Hange's mannerism seemed more crazed with him if that was even possible.

"Yeah.. it has been so long." He heard the man say. You got.. taller..

"We're never getting out of this lobby are we?" Erwin sighed as the two continued to chatter on. Levi and Erwin stared as Hange continued on about her car with a surprising amount of engagement from the other party. "You know they kind of remind me of you and-"

"Hey, Hange!" Erwin cut himself off as a brown haired girl that Levi instantly recognized hopped down each step, a bald boy following her. And Levi believed he remembered them from Y/N's stories as Connie and Sasha who he remembered from the party.

"Hange, what're you doing here?" He asked as the brown haired girl gave her a hug.

"My family owns the lodge so I brought Erwin and Levi for the break!" Hange said, pulling Connie into side hug that he immediately reciprocated.

"Oh god! Why didn't you tell me your plans for break? Jean would've driven all of us up here and you wouldn't have had to waste gas."

Hange just shook her head. "It's quite alright I was already out of gas so we just took the train up here."

"You didn't put gas in your car again?" Connie asked

"Wait, if you guys came then does that mean Y/N is here?" Hange asked completely dodging Connie's question.

At her name Levi bounced out of his seat. Almost launching himself into the spot next to Erwin. Pulling his hat over his eyes and sliding his back as far into the chair as he could.

"What's up with you?" Erwin questioned

"I embarrassed myself last time I was with Y/N.."

"What? Didn't she buy you cream like a month ago?"

"Y-yeah." Levi shimmied his feet together as he slid further down in his seat.

Erwin's chuckle next to him made him grimace. "I know you don't really get it Levi. But uh, making an ass out of yourself in front of your crush is the first real hurdle to knowing you've got it bad."

"Shut up.."

"It could've been worse.. You could've accidentally injured her. Or got caught by the loud mouth in your class while writing her first name and your last name in a notebook."

"Sounds like a personal story.." Levi replied, inching the hat off his eyes to look up at Erwin.

Erwin scoffed, "Point is it happens." He said with a roll of his eyes.

Levi let out a little snicker that instantly got caught in his throat. It had never occurred to him that he'd actually paid attention to the romance movies he'd seen a hundred times with his mother. But now that Y/N was walking down the stairs it was like a scene from all of those movies combined.

Her smile just as warm as always. Turtleneck sweater hugging her features along with dark blue jeans and brown boots. Each step felt slower than the last as if everything in this particular room had been put on the slowest speed imaginable.

The butterflies in his stomach swarmed like they were all chasing after one specific thing. Everytime she appeared somehow it was different.

"We're still going skiing today right?" Connie questioned as Y/N stopped on the last stair.

"If Jean's up to it sure." She replied, her cheeks flushed like she'd just walked in from outside.

"Well this is gonna be a fun weekend." Erwin said but Levi didn't even register his words. His heart stammering in his chest. "Go make a fool out of yourself." Erwin nudged

"Hey Jean! Come on!" Connie said

"Yeah, Jean I'm hungry!" Called Sasha

Levi's heart stopped, his chest crumbling in on itself. The same guy from before.. just as soon a loud crash sounded and everyone turned all at once.

"Oh god are you ok?!" Y/N was the first person by Hange's side followed by Moblit from behind the counter.

Hange let out a laugh, wincing as she pulled herself up with Moblit and Y'N's help.

"I'll be ok. Just took a little spill." She continued to laugh.

Erwin was soon standing by her side. "Are you sure, you're alright? Your face is super red.."

A momentary lapse in Hange's facial features made Erwin step back a little. "Shut up Erwin." She huffed

"You fell on your side. You should rest a little bit." Moblit said, coming closer. "Just.. in case."

"Ok.." Hange replied

Y/N seemed to relax at this information. Her gaze immediately falling on Levi surprisingly. He really hoped he didn't outwardly wince.

"Hi, Levi." She spoke plainly giving Erwin a small greeting as well before her, Connie, Sasha, and Jean were leaving the lobby.

Hange and Erwin unsurprisingly crowded into Levi's room about five minutes after the whole ordeal. But Levi couldn't even bring himself to wipe one thing down like he'd wanted to. He just laid still on the bed, eyes planted to the ceiling.

Surprisingly Hange had also stayed silent. Her eyes shut where she laid next to Levi.

"I can't believe you broke the handle on my luggage Hange." Erwin called still sat on the floor holding his luggage in one hand and the handle in the other. Pressing the broken part of the handle to his bag as if it'd be that simple to fix.

"Now what am I supposed to do?"

"It broke my fall Erwin. Be grateful."

"For what exactly?"

"I don't know!"

Levi blinked, his gaze falling on Hange for the first time since she took that spill in the lobby. Her hands were crossed over her stomach, thumbs rubbing the spot where she fell.

"Are you alright or not?" Levi questioned

"I'm fine."

"Ok, I know why Levi's upset but why're you?" Erwin chimed up

"What's Levi upset about?"

"What else? Y/N."

"Uggggghhh Levvviiiii why don't you just ask her out already?" Hange said

Levi sat up on the bed pulling his feet into his chest. Shoes long gone, pushed up against the wall as soon as they'd walked into the room.

"I'm not talking about this shit anymore this week."

"Levi, if we're staying here all of this week and next then chances are she's also staying here all week and next. Which means somewhere in here is a perfect opportunity to-"

"Get in her bed." Hange interrupted

"Or something less crass." Erwin suggested "You did pack condoms in your emergency undies bag right?"

"Did you pack a spare handle in yours?"

Hange's obnoxious laughter was almost loud enough to muffle the low knocks on the door. Her irritating jabs to Levi's shoulder quickly halting when Levi grabbed her fingers.

"Who is it?" Erwin asked, one hand on the door.

"It's Y/N.."

Now Hange stopped laughing. Erwin shrugged as he looked back at both of them before pulling the door open.

"Hey, here." Y/N sounded filled with fatigue as she handed over a small bottle to Erwin.

"Oh! Thank you! Where'd you get this?" Erwin smiled with delight immediately flopping back down next to his bag.

"Jean carries around extra strength glue because Connie always manages to break something fragile." Y/N replied "I doubt it'll work but maybe it'll help a little?"

Erwin nodded happily as Y/N turned to look at Hange. Her hands balled up and her fingers fidgeting where she was pulling at them.

"How's your rib Hange?"

"It's ok now, thanks for asking."

Y/N nodded and at this moment everyone in the room was looking at Levi who automatically felt extremely naked.

"Levi um.. can I talk to you? In the hall?"

Levi didn't know if he had nodded in his head or in real life but he was swiftly moving across the room. Passing Y/N where she stood and then holding the door open as she walked out just behind him. The door shut behind the two of them and if Levi felt naked before the feeling out here was somehow worse.

"What happened?"

Levi could hear the slightly muffled footsteps on the other side of the door and even a whispered Hange as Y/N spoke. His hands felt both too dry and wet all at once as he looked into her mildly menacing gaze.

"Wh- where wh-when.."

"You barely said anything to me after I brought the cream for your forehead. What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

Oh god how can she possibly assume that? Levi felt his stomach clench. He had never had it easy with text, which was why he pretty much always called everyone.

"I-I didn't mean.. it um.." He shuffled his feet a bit now remembering that he still had no shoes on.

Y/N sighed. "I wanna be your friend Levi. Please tell me you want that too."

With a deep breath he replied, "Call me."

"When?"

"Anytime.. I'm a bad t-texter.."

When her facial features softened Levi felt his shoulders finally sag for the first time since he'd heard her name in the lobby. "Ok.. oh ok, that's all it was? I thought I did something wrong. I'm glad we talked."

And Levi was barely registering her hands wrapping around his shoulders. Her body pressing oh so comfortably close to his. Hand sliding over his back, scent overwhelming his nose. And then just as soon it was all being taken away.

"I'll call you, ok?"

"Ok.." Levi's hand was still waving long after she'd already disappeared out of plain view.

"Oh god you're her friend!" Hange laughed the door suddenly yanked open behind Levi.

"It's as cute as it is sad." Erwin clicked his teeth.

"Tch, shut up." Levi stomped back into the room.

"Levi, you're in the friendzone!" Hange huffed as Erwin shut the door. "And if you don't get out of it. You're gonna be the short shoulder to cry on when some big dude with an invalid drivers license, a shit ton of tattoos and a porn addiction breaks her heart."

"That's oddly specific.." Erwin retorts

"All of you keep assuming I wanna be her boyfriend. I don't!"

Erwin rolled his eyes, "That tall guy that she was with actually. I think he'll be the guy who has her running to Levi's shoulder."

"Oh you mean Jean?" Hange nods "But they broke up a while ago."

"Then why is she still hanging out with him?"

"He's Sasha and Connie's best friend. So they've all known each other a while. They're a set, don't separate type deal."

"Then it's only logical that Y/N will marry Jean someday. You know if they all stay so close."

"Yup, definitely."

"You can both eat shit."

~~~~

Day one

Levi strained awake, blinded by the harsh sunlight stabbing his eyes through the uncovered window. He couldn't even remember when he'd fallen asleep last night but he could already tell it was too early for everyone else to be awake.

He could recall a couple things from last night. Hange overstaying her welcome in his room, Erwin suggesting that Hange pay for his fucked up luggage and somethings he would rather not think about.

Preferably the others joining in his room to discuss breakfast plans. At which Sasha had suggested the diner they had already planned to go to early in the morning. Levi's heart sank as he recalled Y/N's gorgeous smile directed to Jean who had stood behind her rubbing her shoulders and whispering in her ear.

He squeezed his eyes shut, standing from his bed and immediately working to straighten out the sheets before eyeing the book he'd unpacked last night.

Maybe he could get some reading done before Hange inevitably came to annoy him.

The one he was currently holding was of a dog wearing a big floppy hat in the mist of sunflowers. He quickly matched it with his black and white sweatpants. And with a small sigh he headed to the bathroom.

He thumbed at the spine of the book, sliding his finger between the pages to the current bookmark. A shower would probably be a better start to the morning though. He set the book down unzipping one of his bags and pulling out the first pair of clothing folded at the top. Levi hadn't remembered packing one of his mother's many silly birthday gifts to him. She had always bought him shirts with pictures on them that confused him.

He didn't even remember the last time he'd had a shower that was hot for more than five minutes. Or the last time he could look down at his feet without seeing a hair monster in the drain.

He took a couple extra minutes to completely wash his hair, combing his fingers through the strands before shutting off the water and quickly getting dressed.

As he reentered his room he remembered the random gaze Jean threw his way. The smirk on his lips, the taunting glare and then just as quickly it was over. And he was talking to her like nothing had happened.

Levi had never once in his entire life thought about having a girlfriend. It just wasn't something that absorbed his thoughts but he knew the second he saw that smirk on Jean's face what he wanted to be to Y/N.

He just couldn't imagine how.

His fluffy towel hugged his head as he popped open the book he'd discarded a couple minutes ago. He pulled his feet in closer to his body tracing the letters on the page, delving into the story-

"Levi!"

Two fucking seconds.. that had to be a new record.

A barrage of harsh knocks sounded outside his door and he yanked it open to see Hange standing there out of breath with a barely alive looking Erwin behind her. Excitement flooding her features as she pushed past Levi with Erwin in tow. A blue toothbrush almost falling from his lips.

"You couldn't let him finish brushing his fucking teeth?" Levi grunted, shutting the door behind the two of them. Erwin sighed his eyes shut, toothbrush dangling from his mouth. "Why're you here?"

"We're all going for breakfast remember?"

"Not for another thirty minutes." Levi narrowed his eyes and leaned back against the tv table.

Hange smiled, "Yup and that means we have enough time to figure out a game plan to get you and Y/N together by the end of today." Hange clapped excitedly though both Erwin and Levi couldn't possibly look less enthused.

"I don't need your help."

"Erwin, back me up here!"

"I'm not doing shit since you didn't let me spit and I had to swallow toothpaste." Erwin remarked, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

Levi's face scrunched up and Hange let out a snort. "Why did you swallow it.. you could've just spit it out in the hall or something."

"That's fucking disgusting." Levi grunted

"Why the hell would I do that?" Erwin asked

"You're not supposed to swallow toothpaste duh!"

Everyone huffed all at once and Levi flopped down next to Erwin on the bed. "If I need any help I'll ask.." He mumbled already feeling heat fly to his cheeks.

"We're finally gonna get you a girlfriend Levi!!" Hange squeezed his body in a tight hug.

Just as Levi was about to push her away a couple of soft knocks sounded on his door again, "We're leaving a little earlier, hurry and come downstairs."

~~~~

Before the car had even pulled up back at the lodge Hange was already screaming about going skiing. Erwin had asked if Levi wanted to which he'd replied with a scoff.

"Really? Cause there are plenty of chances for Y/N to fall on you. Or you to fall on her." He shrugged.

Levi just rolled his eyes and at that Erwin gave up and now he was standing at the freezing cold railing watching everyone go down the stupid slope for what had to have been an hour or so. How'd he end up with bag watch? He didn't even wanna come outside.. He blew on his fingers trying and falling to warm them. At this point he felt exhausted, absolutely none of his clothes were keeping him warm.

With a sigh he pulled Hange and Erwin's bags up onto his shoulder along with Sasha and Connie's belongings. If he could manage to get upstairs he could warm up at least a little. A hot cup of tea practically beckoning him.

It took him only a couple seconds to realize he didn't have Y/N's bag. He looked around for a couple seconds. Did she bring a bag outside? Did he lose her bag?? He'd only left once to got to the bathroom. Did someone steal it.. Shit. He grumbled in disgust. Where could he have left it?

Feeling a bit panicked he headed towards the stairs. Blood running cold, his eyes practically bouncing out of his skull. His heart stopped at the display in front of him. Jean's hand on Y/N's waist as she leaned forward on the railing. Their lips pressed together..

(Hey Siri, play Heartbreak Anniversary by Giveon.)