#thankfully i get a ~1 month break before next year

[ur-favorite-puppyboy]

funny how every time i get back to posting anything on here (and not just reblogging stuff), im once again found by the horrors (end of quarter)

[dancingbirdie]

This request is really out of the blue but, i need I CRAVE i require a fic where tav and astarion finally find a cure for his vampirism (in dnd5 it can actually happen yay!) and he manages to see his reflection again and finally have his natural eye color again (blue bc he's prob a moon elf but I don't mind other colors too). The fangs can stay or not, idc, i just want my boy happy, in love, and cared for. Bonus points if there's cuddles too

OK first of all, thanks for this prompt!! Second, I had to break this up into two parts because I'm afraid of how unwieldy it would get otherwise. So see part 1 below. I'm actively writing part 2 and should have that posted within the next few days. Hope you enjoy!

UPDATE: Chapter 2 available here!

I Promised You (Chapter 1)

Rating: G

Pairing: Astarion x GN!reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings/Tags: mentions of unconsciousness, cheeky banter, domestic life, post-events of BG3, potentially problematic levels of self-sacrifice by reader.

***

“All right. I think you’re ready,” Gale affirmed as he peered over your shoulder, analyzing your hand movements as you practiced the incantation. 

“You think? Shouldn’t we wait until you’re sure?” you replied, heavy skepticism coloring your tone. 

“I can’t give you my complete assurance because you haven’t actually cast the spell,” the wizard sighed. 

The two of you had had this argument many times over the past several months as you studied and practiced. And studied and practiced some more. The conclusion was always the same, but your anxiety always managed to convince you that a different outcome would be had if you just asked him again. 

Conjuration magic was one of the most difficult forms to master. Yes, you had specialized in it during your formative years, under the tutelage of several learned wizards across Faerûn, but this spell was perhaps the pinnacle of feats in conjuration. Only a handful of wizards could perform it. Thankfully Gale was among that number, which is why you had come to him for help.

“As I’ve said, this isn’t a spell you can just cast for practice runs,” he continued. “You have one chance. And if it works, the sheer power of it is undoubtedly going to knock you unconscious.” 

“I know, I know,” you grumbled. “I just… I need to be absolutely perfect. I have to do this. For him.” 

“Have you told him what you’re planning yet?” Gale prodded.

“No. Not yet. I didn’t want to get his hopes up. Or have him tell me how unlikely success will be. Not until I was absolutely sure I could do this.” 

“I see,” the wizard returned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, tonight is as good a time to tell him as any. There’s nothing more I can teach you to prepare for this. You know the incantation by heart. You perform the gestures almost through muscle memory now. You’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you repeated, as if saying the words would will it to be so. 

“Send me a missive if he wants to go through with this. I’ll come to the cottage and oversee the spell’s casting.”

“All right,” you nodded.

“It’s going to work. You have to believe it’s going to work,” Gale encouraged, meeting your eyes with a serious, stern sort of expression.

“It’s going to work,” you agreed. “It’s going to work.” 

***

It was dusk by the time you returned to the cottage. It was a modest home you shared with Astarion, situated just outside the city walls. It had a lovely view of the rolling hills that surrounded Baldur’s Gate, and proximity to the Chionthar River gave the air a refreshing, misty feel. Pastoral communities dotted the countryside with sheep and cattle grazing freely during the day, though they had returned to their stables long before your return.

Astarion was no fan of the bucolic lifestyle, as he was wont to remind you. But you both agreed that this living situation afforded him better meal prospects than the rats, cats and errant stray dogs that dwelled within the city limits. At least this way, he had more fulfilling options for food, since the livestock attracted their fair share of large predators. A mild, perpetual confusion charm that you cast kept the neighbors from questioning why – unlike their peers in neighboring villages and towns – their animals were never plagued by roving bears and panthers. 

Astarion was lounging listlessly in the bay window of the den when you entered your home, one leg dangling off the ledge of his reading nook while he carelessly flipped through a book. Probably one he had pilfered from Gale’s stockpile a few weeks ago, you surmised. There had been an uptick in the wizard’s grumbling about discrepancies in his library catalog of late. 

“Anything interesting?” you asked as you shrugged out of your traveler’s cloak and hung it on the coat rack by the door. 

“Ugh, hardly,” Astarion grouched. “Nothing but debunked theories and philosophies from bloated scholars who died a hundred years ago.”

“You’re going to have to return Gale’s books to him eventually, you know. He’s beginning to realize how many from his library are missing.”

“Haven’t the slightest clue what you’re referring to, darling,” he replied breezily.

“Of course, love,” you chuckled, planting a kiss on his forehead as you passed him by to make your way into the kitchen. 

“Care for a glass of wine?” you called.

“Mm, yes,” Astarion returned. “Red, please, dear.”

Uncorking the bottle and pouring the glasses gave you a brief moment to collect your thoughts. To steel your nerves for the conversation looming before you. Drawing a deep breath in and exhaling it slowly, you made your way back into the den and braced for the inevitable. 

“Darling, do you have a moment?” you asked as you offered Astarion his glass before taking a seat next to him. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Gods, it must be serious,” he teased, straightening from his reclined pose to take the proffered glass and make room for you. “You like you’re about to be ill. Go on then, love, before you faint and spill this vintage all over the floor.”

“It is rather serious, in fact,” you began, clearing your throat that had suddenly become tight with nerves.  “I’ve waited to tell you until now, but I’ve been researching some more difficult conjuration magic with Gale the past few months…”

“Oh?” Astarion prompted as you paused. “For what purpose, darling? I thought you had already mastered the school of conjuration.”

“I have. But this is a more specialized form. More… niche, I guess one might say. And, well…” you trailed off again, hesitant.

“Go on,” he encouraged. 

“I’ve-been-researching-a-spell-that-cures-vampirism-and-I-think-I’ve-found-a-way,” you spat out all at once, the words tumbling into each other like a wagon train gone wild. 

Astarion met your eyes with a blank stare, seemingly forgetting that his one hand had been in the process of lifting the wine glass to his lips. 

“I beg your pardon?” he asked hoarsely.

You coughed to clear your throat. “What I mean to say is: I’ve been working with Gale for months now to learn a spell that can cure your vampirism. He and I believe I’m ready to perform it. If you would allow me to try, that is.”

“If this is your idea of a joke,” he murmured, a slight quiver in his voice. “Then I have to tell you, it’s absolutely not funny at all.”

“It’s not a joke!” you assured. “I swear to you, Astarion. It’s not a joke,” you continued, squeezing one of his hands in yours. 

He nodded absently, his gaze trained on your thumb as it soothed over the knuckles of his fingers.

“H-how?” he whispered finally. “How can you cure it? I’ve read every tome I could get my hands on for over two hundred years. Nothing, nothing, I’ve read has ever offered a solution.”

“Because this is a highly guarded spell. It’s only passed down through oral tradition among wizards who specialize in conjuration magic. Which is why I’ve needed Gale’s help,” you explained. “I broached the topic with him some time ago, told him how we were going to look for some way to cure your vampirism. Being a master of magicks himself, I thought he would be a good source of information for me to begin my research. I wasn’t even aware of the spell until he shared it with me. He’s been teaching me the mechanics of it since then. It’s been a difficult spell to master but–” 

“What’s the cost?” Astarion interjected suddenly, meeting your gaze with a new intensity.

“It will cost you nothing, obviously,” you retorted, disliking where the conversation was heading. 

Astarion huffed through his nose. A caustic, frustrated sort of sound. “Don’t play cute with me, darling. You know what I mean.”

“No. I don’t,” you hedged.

“What will the spell cost you,” he bit out through a clenched jaw. 

You bit your lip, hesitant to reply. Astarion’s gaze never wavered. 

Finally you sighed. Better to reveal the consequences of it all than attempt to hide the downsides from him. Even though they were negligible in your eyes, compared to the wonder that would be returning his elfhood to him, you knew he would resent being told only partial truths. You couldn’t fault him for it. You would feel the same, were the roles reversed. 

“It will permanently weaken me. There’s a small, very small, chance it could kill me if I perform it wrong,” you confessed.

“No,” Astarion responded bluntly, without a hint of hesitation. He rose from the bench and made to leave the room. As if the matter had been settled and it was time to crack on. 

“Wait! What do you mean, ‘no’?” you blurted. Jumping to your feet, you snatched at the sleeve of his nightshirt. 

He turned to peer at you with a haughty gaze, one eyebrow arched delicately. “Exactly that. No. You’re not risking your life on the off chance of this working.”

“But it’s not an off chance. It will work! And the likelihood of me dying is incredibly slim!” you protested.

“But the likelihood of you being ‘permanently weakened’ is essentially certain, yes?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it sounds. And besides, I don’t mind. I want to do this, Astarion.”

He scoffed. “Have you gone absolutely mad? ‘It’s not as bad as it sounds.’ Do you even know what will actually happen to you afterwards?” he shot back angrily.

“No,” you admitted, a bit quieter. 

He deliberately widened his eyes at your response, crossing his arms across his chest as if to say See? My point proven. 

“But I know I can handle it! And I love you enough to try!” you retorted.

That appeared to be the wrong choice of words. You realized it immediately as his expression morphed from outright anger to something darker, icier.

“Well then, it seems we’re at an impasse, darling,” he growled. “Because I love you enough not to have you go through with this.” 

You opened your mouth to object once more, but he continued, ignoring you. 

“AND, since it is my body and my life we’re discussing, it means I have the final say on the matter. My answer is no.”

You had anticipated this conversation going many different ways. You thought you had prepared for the most likely scenarios. But, in all your pondering, you hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that Astarion would reject this opportunity outright. 

Your eyes welled with tears. Hot, angry, disconsolate tears. 

“Astarion,” you murmured, desperate. Angry though you both were, you couldn’t resist the urge to curl into his embrace. Gently, you pulled at his arms in an attempt to un-cross them. With a soft sigh, he allowed you to manipulate him so that you were pressed chest to chest. Your arms banded around his waist, locking him against you. Slowly, he raised his arms to mimic your stance, peering down at you.  

“Astarion, my darling, this is your chance. It’s the only chance we’ve found in over two years of searching. I know I can do it. And you can win it all back. I can help you. Let me do this,” you pleaded. 

“Darling, how could I ever ‘win it all back’ when there’s a possibility I could lose you forever? Or that you could be seriously harmed in the process?” he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, smiling sadly. “I would never forgive myself if you were harmed in an attempt to cure me.”

You closed your eyes, tears slipping freely down your cheeks. “Please. I know I can do this. Please let me do this. I want to do this for you.”

“Come, pup, no more tears. I’ve given you my answer,” he murmured, swiping a thumb across your cheekbones to catch each tear.

You opened your eyes to glare at him. “If the roles were reversed, would you want to try this for me?”

“Of course,” Astarion huffed. “But that’s obviously different, I –”

“WHY? Why is it different?” you cried, clutching him. 

“Because you’re worth it!” he implored, arms vibrating as though he were resisting the urge to shake sense into you. “Your soul is worth a thousand of mine! It’s not marred by death and torture and sacrilege. Can’t you see that? Don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t,” you argued obstinately. “Because you are worth it to me. Your soul is priceless to me. I love you. You’re the love of my life.”

Astarion said nothing, just stared at you with sad eyes. You couldn’t tell if his silence meant you were persuading him, but you couldn’t relent without giving at least one more desperate plea. 

“I promised you. Remember? After everything that happened, I promised you we would find a way for you to walk in the sun once more. I didn’t make that promise lightly. I want to do this for you.”

“Darling…” he murmured sadly, shaking his head. 

“Astarion, please,” you beseeched, shifting to clutch his face between both of your palms. “I’m literally begging you to let me try. Gale and I have been practicing for almost a year now. He wouldn’t tell me I was ready unless he was certain. I know I can do this. Please. Let me try.”

“Don’t you have any regard for your own life?” he whispered. “How is it that I’m more concerned for your well being than you are?” 

“Darling, all of us have the slightest potential of dying every single day we continue to breathe. Anything poses some risk to our lives. I’m telling you, the risk of me dying from this is the same as the risk I take casting any other magic.”

“But there’s still a permanent cost to doing this. Have you even asked Gale to elaborate on what that entails?” 

“No,” you admitted a bit sheepishly. “I didn’t really think about it.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes but planted a kiss against your forehead. “You’re ridiculous, you know.”

“I’m sorry that I was so ecstatic about finding a cure that I leapt straight into studying it!” you said defensively, although your tone lacked teeth. 

He chuckled and wrapped you in a tighter embrace, resting his cheek on the top of your head. The two of you stood like that for some time, arms wrapped around each other, lost in thought. 

After a while, Astarion cleared his throat. “I want us to speak to Gale. I want to know the full details, the consequences of a spell like this.”

You jerked your head up in surprise, staring at him with wide, elated eyes. 

“I’m not saying yes,” he clarified, attempting to tamp down your burgeoning excitement. “But I’m willing to hear more about this… possibility.”

A delighted squeal rocketed up your throat. Quick as a flash, you jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. Long used to your ebullient antics, Astarion caught you with a practiced ease. His arms banded under your thighs and across your lower back, squeezing gently. 

“I love you, you daft, feral thing,” he chuckled, nuzzling your cheek. 

***

“I would have gone over this months ago, had you afforded me the opportunity,” Gale had groused upon arriving at the cottage the following evening. The three of you shared a bottle of barrel-aged Callidyren while Astarion peppered the wizard with umpteen questions about the spell’s mechanics. To his credit, Gale managed to assuage Astarion’s concerns. At least for the most part. 

The permanent effects of casting the spell, you both learned, would diminish your inner well of magic, rendering you unable to cast as many spells as you currently could before resting for a longer period of time. Almost as though the cost of performing the spell would revert you back to the strength you had had as an apprentice so many years ago. You would still be powerful, capable of wielding even the most intricate of spells. But your endurance would be shorter, more concentrated. It was a price you were more than willing to pay. Even more so now that you had actually allowed Gale to describe the effects in detail. 

“I still can’t believe you didn’t press for more details,” Astarion grumbled. 

“It didn’t seem important at the time,” you sniffed, waving a hand dismissively. “Still doesn’t, in my opinion.”

“You know, in some schools of thought,” Astarion countered dryly, “people believe the difference between bravery and complete idiocy is so fine a line that it frequently gets crossed.”

“So I’ve heard,” you crooned. “But, alas, I’m nothing if not an incredibly adept fool in love.” 

Gale observed the two of you warily, as if uncertain whether this exchange constituted harmless domestic banter or an undercurrent of severe agitation. 

“Yes, well,” he interrupted awkwardly, “as I said before, you’re as ready as you will ever be to perform this magic. I’ll be here to supervise and intervene, if necessary, though I don’t think it will be.”

“Bully for us. Is there anything else we should be prepared for, if we’re to go through with this?” Astarion snapped. “Sudden onset sliminess? Gills? Frothing at the mouth?”

You winced. He was always his most discourteous self when he was afraid. Gale might not realize it, but you knew him well enough to tell when his rudeness was obfuscation.   

“Ahem,” Gale coughed, clearly affronted by the impertinent question. “No, nothing of that sort. But this spell is incredibly demanding on one’s body. It’s very likely they’ll fall unconscious once it’s been cast. The effect shouldn’t last for more than a few hours. Enough time for a proper rest.”  

“You failed to mention that yesterday,” Astarion said peevishly, glaring at you from across the dining table. 

“Because it’s the equivalent to me needing a good sleep after a tiring day,” you quipped. 

Gale winced. “It’s a bit more serious than that, I’d argue.”

“Thank you,” Astarion intoned. 

“Tsk. An inconvenience at worst. Nothing unmanageable,” you retorted. “So, what say you, darling? Are you willing to give this a try?”

Astarion’s glare shifted between you and Gale, studying you both. 

“And you both swear to me that all information is now disclosed, yes? No partial truths, no hidden side effects?”

“I swear,” the two of you responded in unison. You reached for Astarion’s hand across the table. 

“My darling, this will work. I’m going to be fine. And you’re going to be cured,” you smiled gently. “Please, trust me.”

He squeezed your hand, crimson eyes boring into your own. 

Finally, after a moment, he gave you a terse nod.

“All right. Let’s try,” he agreed.

[cloveroctobers]

FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.

A/N: so carmy won this time around!!! Thanks to all those that voted and ultimately made this decision for me lol. Hope you guys enjoy this and have a safe, healthy, and happy love season 🩷 + yes this is a mixture of fluff and angst...i mean come on! I wouldn't be me if i didn't include that in here somewhere!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 1. “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.” “What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?”  + always giving the other the first bite of their food < or the last.

WARNINGS/SN: I wrote with a black or brown reader in mind although reader isn't physically described + they’re given a name only when mentioned, language is a thing here duh!, this is LENGTHY, lots of timelines: reader + nat became friendly before season 1 during the summer prior to 7 fishes which is estimated to be five years before season 2, reader knows of carmy due to past work, I feel like she can be just a few year(s) older than carmy but younger than nat—there’s a age gap for the Berzatto’s anyways, sexual relations are mentioned, this piece takes place months after the grand opening, & finally there’s a possible chance for a poly relationship or maybe just multiple crushes going on? Take that how you will.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

it was a Sunday.

The kind of Sunday you woke up embarrassed about but knew you had to swallow your pride and just send out that text. You knew you wouldn’t be judged regardless reaching out to Fak because he’s built to deal with things like this and never made you feel like shit about anything.

You usually had to squeeze it out of him to get him to lay out any cons about a situation but appreciated most times when he didn’t. Your minds been going haywire with a recent assignment as a food journalist and it really slipped your mind, although you were usually a quick thinker, you’ve been stressed over this recent restaurant. Thankfully it clicked for you after throwing a tantrum to simply reach out to Fak to come help you out.

The stupid lever in your bathroom decided to stop flushing on you and of course you panicked. Who wouldn’t panic in a situation like that? You no longer had a roommate and strongly debated if you even wanted to search for another; after the shady actions of the previous one, so you really didn’t have to worry about them giving you shit either. (Let’s see if your rent feels the same next month!)

It was just you in the end and perhaps you were learning to be okay with that.

Yet that didn’t stop you from FaceTiming Sydney about it. “Hey Siddy, how’s your day going?”

“Pretty good, yours?” She politely asked as she moved down the hallway of her shared apartment to prop her phone on the pedestal sink, moving around her functioning bathroom to grab some oil to grease her scalp.

Smacking your lips you glare, “it fucking sucks.”

“Oh?” Sydney questioned, appearing back in frame, “what happened? Did someone egg and scratch up your car again after a review you gave them? Noo wait, don’t tell me there’s a bullet hole?!”

That was light work compared to New York (it really wasn’t a competition of which state had its worst moments but your home state left you kinda triggered, not gonna lie!) where you were just starting off and those that were in tune with the culinary world didn’t take your words with a grain of salt. Most nights you still woke up gasping for air, reaching for your throat due to some trauma of a break in from a well-known nepo-baby chef. Don’t get that twisted, your mom didn’t raise no punk but that didn’t mean those events didn’t mess with your mental and you acknowledged that every time you had a nightmare. They only served three years and five months compared to the original five year sentence.

Ah the system…got to love how that works out for the privileged!

You shrugged, “no…the threats have been pretty tame lately so I can give myself a pat on the back for that. However! I still am in a crisis.”

Sydney begins to move her braids around to expose her scalp, “Elaborate for me.”

“My toilet won’t flush!” You whine, laying flat on your messy bed. You tended to not make your bed on Saturdays and didn’t get around to making it today—although it was after 3pm.

Sydney asks, “Like the waste won’t go down…?”

“Exactly!” You confirm throwing your arm over your eyes dramatically, “The lever thing is moving like my old dislocated shoulder.”

Sydney gags, “don’t fucking remind me of that day. That was spooky to witness but I am glad you healed from that.”

“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”

Sydney gives a small smile, “don’t mention it…have you considered YouTubing it? That’s what I do when I don’t want to ask anyone for help and figure it out by myself.”

You hummed knowing this was true. In a sense you could be like that too, especially when it came to the working field, since writers can tend to be some nasty bitches and always in rivalry with each other. You made a name for yourself in Chicago as well, coming from New York where you worked just as hard-maybe even harder than the rest to mean and write exactly how you felt about cuisine, regardless if anyone agreed or not. It wasn’t about if people liked you, the relationship with food would always be more significant and hold value in your life, just like the rest of these chef’s you encountered and you got that, people were allowed to be sensitive about their work. You’ve come toe to toe with many chef’s around the world who didn’t like your take on their craft but that didn’t mean you didn’t understand them. They hardly took the time to really dive into your ratings and automatically took it as you shit talking or not having any idea what you were saying since you “weren’t really a chef,” but you knew your worth most days.

Yes you could be straight forward but that didn’t mean you lacked compassion like some chef’s liked to think according to your reviews. You often wrote in a way that was puzzling to some, almost philosophical or riddle like with your own twist. Some just didn’t get it and that was okay but you wouldn’t back down from any confrontation. The second they didn’t want to really listen, that’s when you removed yourself from the escalating problem. It didn’t have to get violent like some wanted to inflict.

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” You exasperated, slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead.

Sydney snorted, “maybe because you’re under a lot of pressure lately and the most simplest of things don’t come as easily as they should.”

“You would think I have high blood pressure with the way these past two weeks have been.”

Sydney says, “give it time.”

“Gee, thanks! That’s exactly the kind of shit I want to hear from you.” You roll your eyes at the blurt of words that commonly escaped the braided girl’s mouth.

Sydney breathes out a laugh, “I’m just joking!”

“Yeah, yeah! Maybe I should text fak back and tell him not to come by!”

“You asked fak instead of the apartment manager?” Sydney is in amazement.

“Fuck that noise, he’s so full of shit that he should see a doctor about it. He’ll show up to analyze the problem, then acts like he’s going to fit you into the schedule and then when you catch him in the lobby he pretends that he has amnesia.” You commented with a scowl.

You get ready to minimize the call to text fak but some obnoxious knocks at the door made you pop up from your bed. “That was fast!”

Hopping up from the bed and padding out of the last bedroom in the apartment, you made the journey through the foyer to the awaiting black front door. Peeking through the peephole you spot Fak grinning widely up into it, almost making you jump back.

“He’s made it Siddy! I’ll call you back!”

“K. Good luck!” Sydney calls out before you end the call to pull the door wide open.

“Neil!” You scream, quickly latching onto his tatted wrist ready to yank him in until you notice someone else is with him, “…why is he here?” You point.

Fak quickly glances over at a brimmed Carmy who raised a brow at him in a silent told you so manner, “I mean we were having a boy’s day when you called and I didn’t want my buddy to be left out. Plus, it’s always great to have some assistance.”

“…i find it hard to believe that Carmen wants to fix my toilet.” You cross your arms, poking out your hip as you stare at him.

Carmen shrugs his shoulders, “I wanted to wait in the car if it makes you feel any better.”

“Hmm…it doesn’t.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose briefly in agitation, “you know what, fak you’ve got this right? I know you do so—

“Nope!” Fak quickly interrupts, “this maybe a two person job so aspie if you just let us do what we came to do—

Shooting an arm out to block the doorway you peer into Fak’s dark teal eyes to show you mean business, “didn’t I say I dislike that nickname, Neil?”

He nods.

“Also i find it offensive that you brought an uninvited guest to my place.”

“Just be glad it wasn’t Richie because that was also a possibility before he ran off to pick up the kid.” Carmy snaps making you roll your eyes.

If Richie was here you been would have slammed the door in both Fak and his face. Sure you had some sort of tension with Carmy and beef with .......his cousin but at least Carmy only gave it back to you when he had the energy to—meaning if he was already on one. The issue was simple, you wrote a not so nice review once before when the eldest berzatto, Michael was alive and running the joint. Richie couldn’t forget that and actually kept the clipping, yes the clipping of the review way back when. He had the receipts to show Carmy and Carmy actually brushed it off then, not seeming to really care or doubt some of the words that were said.

He came to revamp the place because Mikey left it for him, to fix the mess his big brother left behind, to create what they’ve always dreamed of. Sure he got shit for it in the beginning and part of him felt like maybe that was your case too? He could relate to you on that, yet the weight was slightly different on his part and he even spoke with you not long after he found those tomato cans.

That gave him a certain push he couldn’t really explain. He may have done a brief dive on you, wondering why you felt acquainted to him—completely forgetting about seeing you once around Noma—choosing to start with reading previous reviews by you on other restaurants here in Chicago and a few interviews you’ve done over the world. You weren’t just some nobody, you held your titles well and it reflected in your work.

You weren’t clueless.

He just didn’t really know what he was dealing with until a short time ago.

What he didn’t expect was for you to show up again on opening night with a certain head chef, also from New York. That made carmy more anxious than anything, seeing you sitting beside that four eyed fuck ready to set off a tornado in the heart of the bear. Was that your motive all along? With carmy attempting to build a bridge, not for you to kiss his ass with praise but there was a odd need to have a simple conversation with you. It was weird but it seemed like Sydney, Fak, and Nat liked you?

The jury was still out with the rest—except Richie but you were a mystery to Carmy. However carmy wasn’t the best at putting a read on people or their emotions in the first place, he was good at fucking that up unless you’re screaming it into his face. That’s just how he operated.

“You two can come in—only because I don’t have the patience with the manager here and Neil’s the best I’m gonna get.” You state while fak slaps a hand on his chest.

“That was really sweet, Aspen.” Fak cooed ready to pull you into a bone crushing hug but you hold up a finger.

“Save the hugs until after you fix my problem.”

“You got it boss,” Fak salutes before diving under your arm to travel through your apartment, ooo-ing and ah-ing before finding the bathroom around the corner from the living room.

Sighing you drop your arm and wave carmy through, who keeps his view straight while traveling through the hallway. You call out to him, “you can have a seat on the couch.”

“What? Did you drop a load or something and is that the real reason why you don’t want me to help Fak?” Carmy comes right out with it, nose twitching in amusement after whipping around to face you in the center of the living room.

See…only when he’s frustrated or overly focused will he just let it out. Some may look at this as Carmy attempting to make a joke but you took that somewhat personally. The only thing you were thinking after he said this was: What an ego on this one huh?

You stop on your heels and tilt your head to the side, “are you telling me that you think women or fem pronoun users don’t take shits? Do you know what it feels like to have period shits?”

Carmy blinks at you and shouts with his hands out, “I...don't even know what the fuck you're getting at? I wasn't even trying to be sexist to you just then! I asked you a honest question—

“About you being in my business,” you pointed out, “contrary to your beliefs I have a heart and decided to be nice to you and let you stay in my place to keep warm. You’re welcome!”

“Oh bullshit, don’t act like you’re doin’ me any favors.” Carmy scowls, “you don’t even want me here.”

You shrug, “yet you’re here in my apartment, yelling.”

Carmy exhaled while you smirked at him sweetly before turning to lean against the wall that leads to the bathroom.

“Everything okay in there, Neil?”

“Oh yeah!” He says, “I think I figured out the problem. Easy peasy!”

“Great!” You exclaim, pulling your phone out from your sweats to read a very important email.

The weight of stress seemed to lift a good chunk as you quickly responded to a email that you’ve been waiting for. You’ve been invited out (squeezed in) to a taste test at this restaurant for this evening that you’ve been trying to get into for a month before you brought it up to your employer. The deadline was approaching for the end of this week to have a review ready and they just responded to you five days before that deadline! Reading over it twice, the squeal in you slipped through your smile until you read the exceptions.

If you were to go over the amount of food purchased, which you would put on the company card anyways, you can get a discount if you brought a plus one and some reimbursement if the review was satisfactory to the owners—which the last part wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

You usually didn’t bring a plus one to any of the places you did reviews for, you got comfortable doing outings all on your own but this was different. Sure you were somewhat known in the culinary world but that didn’t mean you were a millionaire and this restaurant was apparently upscale. There was a waiting list regardless of your status—even for the celebrities that went there so this was a big deal and they gave you a short notice. Usually Sundays were known for a reset for the week but what better way to start it?

You don’t go forward with reaching out to anybody else that you work with. This was your battle and you were aware that two of your other co-workers also reached out to this restaurant. You just hoped you were the only one they picked and wouldn’t miss out on the great opportunity just because you weren’t sure about your guest.

A few hours before show time and you had to find somebody to attend with you. Your best friend was away in Cabo for a honeymoon, the other (who recently planned on moving to ATL) was dealing with the flu and had their no good ex boyfriend taking care of them, Sydney was suddenly MIA, and you even considered inviting Natalie Berzatto to piss carmy off just a bit.

“Hey, Nat!” You greet into the phone as you walk into the kitchen, witnessing Carmy perk up from the couch.

It’s small talk at first: you asking about how her day is going as a mom to be, if she’s going to be at the bear tomorrow, did she watch the Emmy’s the other night, tell her husband you said hello, and then finally if she had plans for tonight.

“…are you asking me to hang out?”

“We had fun at that club way back when no?”

“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”

You knew it’s been awhile. You were always friendly with Natalie, meeting her first—well second out of the siblings down at the small mart one summer you helped out at that your great-uncle owned. She was huffing about something her boyfriend at the time, Pete forgot to bring her and some groceries she was picking up for her mom. You were cool enough to become Facebook friends, exchange numbers, go out for coffee and go to the club together. This wasn’t unusual to call each other randomly but you knew she commonly got shit from Michael and Richard about her talking and hanging out with you.

The thing about Natalie Berzatto is that she always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Yes she saw your review yet she kinda laughed about it initially but it was all fuck you’s from the other two loud mouth’s. Of course she was going to listen to her brother but she still had a mind of her own. she didn’t care to listen to Richie go off but she understood how Michael felt, although she was the only other Berzatto that heard you out.

Except you didn’t owe anybody an explanation even if some felt you were more cutthroat in your younger years.

“...Before you and Pete even thought about marriage?”

You were younger than them but you imagined how it would always work out for Nat and Pete, which included growing old together.

“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”

“So…?”

“Can’t do it.”

“You didn’t even hear all the details!”

“I know, I know and it sounds like it’ll be a real fucking blast but if this kid wasn’t sitting on my sciatic nerve constantly and if my feet weren’t the size of two honeydews…I totally would! But I’ll have to decline this time around—so please don’t hate me!”

“I could never!”

“You know you could always ask carmy-

“Why on earth would I do that?” Your reply was instant.

Natalie sighed over the phone, “aspen…the potential of friendship and love is a beautiful thing.”

You scrunched up your face at the phone before placing it back to your ear.

“Do you want me to hang up on you?”

“I’d call you a rude bitch if you did but then get over it.”

“I can live with that because I know it’s real love between you and I.”

“…whatever that means.”

“Right.”

You both laugh, knowing just how weird the subject of love can be. Although you didn’t talk all the time it was always okay for one of the other to drop a venting text or call each other’s way and know the other would get around to responding. The both of you may not be the best of friends but you did consider each other friends regardless. There were conversations between the both of you that no one knew about and would be a constant reminder of what kind of friends the both of you would remain.

Natalie wished things could have been resolved between you and Michael but she reassured that the dislike wasn’t as deep as it seemed. There was no secret that you felt awful about how his life ended and being there for nat during that time also meant a lot. She told you that one of the last conversations she had with Michael was about you and it felt as if he was learning to let go of your review, slowly taking in Nat’s words of you not having a cruel bone in your body especially with all that you’ve done for her.

Anybody that showed his sister true friendship couldn’t be complete garbage. As much as he tolerated Pete, Michael was always aware that he was good enough for his sister. They were all cut from different cloths and the Berzatto’s were just from the same but opposite corner’s.

Natalie telling you this was not to erase any worries you had since that is always brought to the surface when someone you’ve been face to face with before decides to end it all. It was to show you that nobody ever truly knows what anyone is thinking whether there is love there or not.

You can feel Natalie smiling through the phone, “Think about it…all that tension could be smoothed out if you extend the olive branch…now it’s your turn.”

“It’s not my fault he switched up on me after your opening night.” You didn’t lower your voice or make it louder but you were definitely staring at carmy now who was side eyeing you, looking like phineas from phineas and ferb.

“That’s something you need to talk to him about, don’t you think?” Her tone was always so gentle that it made you sick sometimes because she could be right.

“I’m not here to do think pieces.”

“…aren’t you a writer?”

“Have a good night, nat.”

“Ta-Ta!” Natalie sing-songs, “be sure to send me the deets later because carmy never tells me anything! Bye! Chat later!”

Hanging up the phone, you slide it onto the counter and tap your nails against the island. To the right of you, you pick up on some clinking in the bathroom—which sounds somewhat normal and zone in on carmy who’s also holding onto his phone but staring at the blank tv in thought.

“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.

His bright blues turn to you as if he hasn’t been eavesdropping on your conversation here and there between his texts with Marcus.

“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”

The air is frigid as the both of you hunch your shoulders shoving through Chicago’s winter. Shockingly the streets are filled with cars tonight so you had to park on the next street over before walking up and around to The Saffron Simmer. Carmy offered to drive, which was a debate—no shock there—since there was no way he was leaving the bear stock van behind for no license having fak to play around in.

Fak definitely found that offensive and said he didn’t mind hanging out at your place, being done with your toilet but with the look you sent him he said he’s find an Uber or fak2 can pick him up. It’s not like you didn’t trust fak in your place…it’s just that the possibilities of what he can get into are endless.

You also didn’t want to ride in the bear’s van not because of shallow reasons, you just wanted to annoy carmy just a bit more for fun. Walking mostly everywhere was the way to go growing up in New York and Carmy working there so doing so here in Chicago wasnt foreign either. However with the type of cold here in this city is enough to give the bravest of hearts hypothermia. So obviously driving was the best option, it’s just the petty back and forth between you two of who will drive had to be spewed.

Eventually you gave in and sat in the passenger side of the van, being on DJ duty for the twenty-five minute drive—something carmy didn’t care to argue over. The both of you made it on time, throwing the door back for carmy to catch then bouncing on your toes while he blew into his gloveless hands waiting on the greeter to find your reservation.

The pictures didn’t do The saffron simmer any justice. There was so much to look at with its modernized speakeasy décor and the high ceilings did a superb job of making the both of you feel small in the spacious space. Thankfully the dress code was business casual so you didn’t have to go all out but you still put in the effort of looking your best in simple attire. You’re shrugging out of your scarf, earmuffs, and puffer coat while Carmy is already seated; with only the removal of his cap across from you in a chair.

He’s watching you as you place everything neatly to the right of you before you're taking a seat in the leather oversized chair, then digging through your tote to pull out your notepad, Sony camera, phone, and bolt pen. You quickly scribble something on the first line and circle it before dropping your pen.

Rolling the sleeves of your long sleeves back underneath your blazer, you roll your shoulders with a close of your eyes before opening them with a look of determination.

“Wow, that was something.” Carmy tells you, making you set your eyes back on him, forgetting just that quick that he was your plus one.

Clasping your hands together you quirk up a brow, “What?”

“Watching you prep.”

You dip your head, “should have seen me before I got dressed…much worse.”

A smirk appears on the corner of Carmy’s lips, “oh yeah?”

“Well yes, I can contain myself in public, Carmen. Your home is supposed to be your safe space so that’s the best place to go a little crazy sometimes.” You inform, yet still not giving too much away.

“Why are you in your head about this place anyway?” Carmy peers around the slightly filled dining area before meeting your eyes once more.

You lift your shoulders, “have you seen the way they market this place? Giving not too much away although it’s top ten restaurants here and I can either contribute to its success or its downfall. They picked me for a reason so my review matters at the end of this year.”

“But you uh-get a thrill out of this shit don’t you? It’s what you signed up for, right?” Carmy is actually relaxed against the chair across from you.

Which is a sight to see.

You state, “it’s part of the job, if that’s what you mean.”

Carmy blinks and seems to get it, “and so you stay.”

“So I stay.” You echo while holding his stare, which is broken by a piece of the stone table lifting and showcasing the menu illuminated by sepia lighting in the dark of the restaurant.

Carmy’s bright eyes are wide as he stares at the menu that appears right in front of your faces. There’s a grin on your face as you rest your fingertips around its rough edges, almost as if you were expecting this while carmy blows out a breath.

“The hell is this place?”

You peek over at him, “some next level shit, berzatto.”

“Yeah…I think I’m starting to catch on.”

You turn your attention back to the menu, swiping your fingertips along the touch screen although you’ve heard things about the menu, which they kept offline since apparently it renews monthly.

“What looks good?”

“Uh…these pages aren’t even labeled." Carmy exhales through his nose, eyes searching all over the tablet, "I have no clue. You?”

The words come at ease for you, "One of almost everything maybe?”

“Sounds good...I guess?”

“On me by the way,” you state with a wink as you flash your company card.

“I’ll get the tip then.” Carmy pats his jeans, the left containing his carton of cigarettes, the right holding his keys, lifting his hips he checks for his wallet although he’s been sitting on his behind for about ten minutes now.

You don’t argue with that, eyes in awe at the selection of items as you start ordering, “don’t forget to order your drink.”

“Water should be fine,” Carmy mutters to himself, eyes scanning over the first strange title of water that is described as flower and ginger infused purified water and decides to go with that.

You finally express after rapidly letting your fingers go over the screen and taking a picture with your phone, “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.”

It sounded so easy to you as you quickly shifted to pick up your pen and start writing notes.

“What was that?” Carmy pressed his elbows into the edge of the table, making sure he heard you right since he’s not even sure if he can trust his inner thoughts lately.

You’re still scribbling but also turning your face towards the messy haired chef, “you heard me. We have to act like we’re in a relationship because I’ve definitely went over the budget on the card.”

“That’s not really my problem?”

“Yes it is,” you demand, “you agreed to be my plus one so that’s that. Plus this menu further confirmed my suspicions from the email.”

Carmy scratches at his brow confused, “what are you talking about, aspen?”

“Here,” you swipe across your screen towards Carmy’s device, which brings up another screen instantly to carmy who’s in awe but scans over the details.

You didn’t share the email with him but he’s heard about how high tech this restaurant is but didn’t have the time to do his own research.

*Significant others in attendance are subject to applicable discounts.*

Carmy feels his stomach cramp at the fine print and it so small that he was sure anyone could have missed that.

Not you.

“…how exactly are we supposed to prove that, hm?” He's gripping at his greasy hair now, feeling himself getting a bit worked up about this.

You fanned your hand along, “just do what couples do and follow my lead...Depending on our witnesses,” you whisper as you look around, “they could always assume that’s what we are anyways.”

Part of carmy didn’t like how that came off.

“What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” Flies out of Carmy’s mouth before he can even process what he’s saying.

That stoops you too, making you press your back against the chair in thought. That wouldn’t be going down in the notes, as you stare at the pen in between your fingers for a moment. Which brings you back to Carmy’s tatted fingers first that touched you in ways that romance novelist craved to write about.

So you may have left that out, how a shared conversation about the “heartless” review of then Chicagoland turned the bear melted into hot and heavy actions in the front seat of your Mazda. It hits you in those same flashes you take of dishes: the unsure sloppy kisses, you taking the lead to get Carmy to just touch you, shaky hands that trace the tattoo from your rib cage down to your hip before soon holding steady and angled just right beneath your red tapered trousers.

“Where did that come from?” You question just as a server greets you, delivering drinks and announcing the small plates should be out in the next five minutes with a timer appearing on both of the stone tablets.

Carmy says, “you—you didn’t just think I forget right?”

“Well I was hoping.” You were honest, “neither of us are ready for relationships—especially hearing about you and Claire.”

Carmy felt his eye twitch, “and how do you know about that?”

Sydney.

You wouldn’t throw her under the bus like that although you could tell carmy already knew.

“I have my resources but don’t think I’ve been asking around about you or anything like that.” You sipped at the raspberry mint cocktail, it could be stronger.

His thumbs are shaking first on the table top but his icy stare made your chest pulsate in a way you didn't particularly like, “…would that be so bad?”

You and carmy didn’t exactly know each other well enough besides a conversation once had and with his hand down your pants! and you trying to get him to crash, clothes still on right in the center of his lap—It was a spur of the moment hookup and you could tell it was not something that happened often for carmy. He never had time for it or bothered to get attached but there was something about you that had him thinking otherwise. What was supposed to be a one time thing that you swept to the back of your mind was being brought up again.

The annoyance overtook what that feeling brought in the front seat of your ride. You weren’t ignoring carmy after that but the both of you had a lot on your plate with him renovating a restaurant and you diving back into your own work. Both fields of work seemed to matter more and not once did you think he ever thought about you in that way.

Communication was important people!

And here you thought he wanted nothing to do with you, especially with you showing up to the grand opening of The Bear. Now here you were months later, basically at your benefit, face to face hearing only pieces of what Carmen Berzatto was thinking.

“Hey, guys!” A familiar voice gathers your attention and you both turn to see Sydney smiling at you two.

Carmy widens his eyes, “Syd, what’re you doing here?”

Sydney snorted, “doing the same thing you’re doing? Having dinner.”

“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.

“Oh my god…am I interrupting this um? Date?” Sydney quickly connected the dots eyeing the both of you back and forth while you’re choking on your drink, “you okay?”

She pats your back for you while you gasp and Carmy slides over his water your way although you have your own glass near by. Gaining some air, you swallow some water and breathe through your nose. Normally you would have a response for Sydney’s joke but given what carmy just said to you had your mind running along with some burning tears you wiped away.

“So this is where you’ve been instead of answering me back?” You decide to switch the subject-you were great at that-wheezing a bit while Carmy scoffs and looks away.

Sydney frowns, “huh? When did you call me besides the FaceTime call…” she starts and pulls out her phone, “oh shit sorry. I placed it on do not disturb like thirty minutes after you didn’t call me back. I got wrapped into some entail about the menu from one of the chef’s that works here and is also a friend.”

Carmy speaks, “Didn’t know you had a connect with anybody here, Syd.”

“Can’t reveal all my moves, Carm.” She winks and lightly elbows him while Carmy sends her a small smile and a shake of his head.

Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”

“Only a little," She pinches her fingers before continuing, "and my dad thought it would be a place I wanted to try.” Sydney admits, “and if you two weren’t on a date I’d say let’s make this a group thing! so I’ll be going! I see my dad coming back from the bathroom…he’s got like a bladder problem and I don’t know why I’m sharing that with you two. But bye! Enjoy and just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you two.”

“Fuck,” carmy exhaled feeling his nerves rising, “don’t do that.”

Sydney chuckles to herself and sends a wave to you two before walking back to her table by the window.

“Siddy kicked me to the curb for her dad,” you sigh resting your cheek into your knuckles for a moment, “can’t be mad at that.”

“But you can be mad at me for what exactly?”

“You wanna do this with me right now?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I thought we could move past what happened—

“You can say it you know? Me with my fingers inside—

“Excuse me!” You hiss, “I don’t need you to repeat action by action thank you. I was there too. We both know what happened, we’d agreed we can coexist around this big ass city. I show up to support—

“Did you though?” Carmy pressed, “support me? Or am I waiting for something else to be thrown at me with your upcoming review?”

“What?!” You bite, “is that what your stank ass attitude is about?”

Carmy tightened his jaw just as the first serving was handed over. You let him sulk in that for some time as you study the plating of the four appetizers, making note of each before taking more pictures with your sony.

“I wasn’t there to write a review.” You reply.

“I saw you—

“Let me finish. I understand pressure so I get it but you have to learn to channel your anger and this grief, elsewhere and deal with it better without projecting it onto any and everybody. I’ll tell you that right now that won’t get you anywhere and especially with me, Carmen.” You affirm.

You’ve been in Carmy’s position before so you can speak with experience. He seemed to always be waiting for the worse to continue filling up his plate but it takes time to accept the good in life. He was giving you something but you weren’t sure it was the best option for the both of you and you weren’t afraid to say that.

“Alright…I didn’t come here to talk about feelings either you know? That’s what those meetings are for.” Carmy spills just a tad.

You stare at the vibrant but delicate plating but his tone and the soft upbeat tempo above your heads don’t go unnoticed. “What did you come here for then?”

Carmy blinks and snatches up a spoon, almost weighing it in his hands before he dives the utensil into the dish. He stares as the stretch of cheese, twisting the spoon to break it apart before holding the Macaroni and Brie with Crab out for you to take the first bite.

He doesn’t answer for awhile and so you do the honors of taking a bite and savoring it's texture and taste.

“…that’s not my favorite.” You announce and notice that Carmy waited for your view.

He raises his brows, “tell me about it?”

“They need different plating.” You deeply sigh, “I know that type of plating works best for a dessert and that’s not it. There’s more breadcrumbs than meat, which seems to not be fully removed from its shell so be careful with that. It’s also lacking flavor even with the brie, which is my least favorite kind of cheese in Mac, although many swear by it.”

Carmy flicks his attention to your disappointment to you scribbling into your notepad with a shake of your head. If he was making you a dish, he’d try his hardest to make sure it was everything you ever wanted.

He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.

Carmy can agree, this was lacking flavor and the breadcrumbs didn’t even have a crunch to them. You can’t just depend on the cheese to give you flavor in Mac and cheese.

“What’s your favorite dish? I—I don’t think I ever asked you that. We just went straight into talking about the beef.”

And doing dirty things in the front seat but who needs to relive that?!

You look up from your notes and lift your chin, “you’re looking at it. It’s childish I know...but that’s exactly what it reminds me of: my childhood. Mac and cheese! then as I got into my adulthood…crab kinda took over. Which is funny because I hated on it for so long growing up. My papa—my grandad, he helped my mom raise me, he's from Ocean City so you can only imagine the amount of seafood on our table.”

You’re smiling to yourself and Carmy can’t help but to feel his small laughter lines appear by his lips as you’re locked into some memory only you can remember vividly. This was the most Carmy was learning about you, sure it may not look like much but he didn’t feel the need to dissociate even if at times he really couldn’t help it.

You were the question mark that he wanted to figure out and get all the answers to. Maybe it was his gut and he shouldn’t have blabbed to sugar about you because now Carmy was thinking this was Michael’s doing.

If you believe in that shit.

So the both of you take your time trying the small dishes before getting the main courses. It seems the longer you sit across from each other—the tension was definitely still there especially with Sydney’s eyes burning into the two of you across the room and attempting to not get caught—although she had once or twice but gradually it lifted as you and carmy shared this time together.

He watched you work while you asked for his input before you told your own. He also provided a few things he would do to tweak it if he agreed with what you didn’t enjoy. Which was eye-opening for you, yes you went to school for journalism and sat in on some cooking classes once that also tied into your passion for learning. After completing your first degree you decided culinary may take you to different heights and enrolled into culinary school. You didn’t find the need to continue going through with being a chef after Copenhagen, finding writing to be your stronger suit but you still understood food and the relationship with it when it came to chef’s.

So you took carmy’s input into consideration.

With the last serving being a Asian dessert called, “Jjan Hae,” which consisted of: coconut rice pudding served with fresh citrus (orange, grapefruit, kumquat) and coffee ice cream, topped with crispy pop rice & a shot of Korean rice wine, it was a strange concept but the both of you came to terms with the dessert working well.

Carmy even took a video to show Marcus tomorrow at the bear and sent a photo to an old colleague, Luca, that you were also familiar with considering Noma was a thing that you didn’t bother speaking much on…but it was your turn to give carmy the last serving.

He hesitated since he had his own bowl, which he finished way before you did but it was clear you wanted him to have the last bite so he also took it while saying something with his eyes.

Breaking the stare, the both of you felt your phone buzz with a text. Carmy didn’t jump to answer it right away…he was the worst texter according to Nat and Sydney but you can answer for the both of you as it was a group text from Sydney who was long gone with her dad.

Siddy + (773) XXX-XXXX: Carmy, invite aspen to breakfast in the morning?? See you guys then! 👍🏾😉

“You guys do breakfast at the bear now?” You say lifting your eyes from your screen.

You heard Sydney made a mean omelette but you haven’t been back since earlier this year and you weren’t in the mood for that that night.

Carmy frowns and closes his eyes with a shake of his head, “uh yeah it’s a new thing that Syd came up with but we agreed to do that with everyone once a month…later this month. Why?”

“She wants me to have breakfast with you guys…knowing I’m not a morning person.”

“It’s not happening tomorrow anyway, so what is she talking about?” Carmy digs into his jacket, where he carelessly shoved his phone into after sending the photo off to Luca.

Another text rings out: at carmy’s place. just us three???

Not Sydney making plans and then placing it all at Carmy’s apartment.

He’s taking a breath, almost as a silent reminder for him to do so before his thumbs move over his screen: i don’t even eat breakfast, Syd.

Syd: well youre gonna.

~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~

“Well, looks like your work wife told your ass.” You laugh, which you translated into her message but didn’t comment further than that.

Carmy harshly exhales through his nostrils in disbelief, “my work wife huh?”

He didn’t hate how that sounded but he also never thought about marriage or relationships in awhile.

“Yeah…the proof is in the pudding, no matter what anyone says.”

Carmy pinched at his bottom lip as he attempts to dryly joke, “I thought it was rice? and what about outside work…”

“That’s something you have to figure out yourself.” You shrug, getting ready to pack up your notes and cameras.

You turn your attention to the table, which knows just when to lift as you tap on the screen to signal that you’re ready to pay while holding out your company card, “are you paying cash for the tip or card?”

“Uh, cash.�� Carmy answers, “…what if I’m starting to think about what come’s next?”

“With Syd?” You question, your now sage and mint scented hands flying over the screen as you select the correct paying method before tapping your company card against the screen.

Carmy starts bouncing his leg underneath the table, “with everything.”

“Well…when you’re ready you’ll make moves to make it happen won’t you?”

Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”

And here comes the intense eye contact that you can’t help but to huff out some laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s just people with light eyes always do this thing where they’re just staring into your soul you know? Like damn, relax!”

Carmy’s confused as he holds his wallet open, “uh sorry for having eyes?”

“Shut up, glacier eyes.” You tell while Carmy just snorts at you.

The both of you don’t waste any time rushing back to his car as the clock is approaching 10pm. The wind’s definitely picked up and the temperature dropped, making it easier not to get caught up in the night time city lights which you often liked to do. Back in the van, carmy doesn’t wait to crank up the heat and you don’t bother to mess with the radio this time.

“So?” Carmy asks as he waits for the car to warm up some.

You keep your attention outside the window shield, “yes?”

“What’s the rating?”

“What makes you think I’m going to tell you that, Carmen?” You continue holding yourself.

He sniffs, “I mean—I was sitting across from you the entire night while you told me some of your thoughts.”

“So you thought you should also get the final score? I don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”

“Ah, I think you’ve got some idea.” Carmy lolls his head over to peek at you.

Laughter bubbles past your lips, “I do. I’ve absolutely had better because—what the fuck was that?”

Carmen feels a crooked smirk appear on his own face, “I don’t want to completely bash other chef’s work but fuck, I thought it was just me? You said it got a 4.3 out of 5? The ambience and service was spot on but…the flavor for most of the dishes?”

“I knew you knew something about seasoning,” you continued laughing while carmy rolled his eyes, “should spend less on the tech and interior and more on some fresh herbs.”

“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”

That made you laugh even harder as you gripped your stomach, “You’ve got that so backwards!”

And carmy couldn’t help but to scan your features as you laughed and he felt his chest getting somewhat lighter? Just listening to the sound of you and being beside you. What kind of feeling was this? He’s felt it before looking at someone else but that feeling was more of a tug with that light while this one slowly poured in from the black.

“Don’t be too hard on ‘em though? There’s always room for improvement.”

“Sure, but we both know the bear is better and you guys don’t have a waist list months in advance.”

“We also don’t have any celebrities showing up either.”

“Yet.”

Carmy taps his fingers against the steering wheel, appreciating that, “right, yet…I’m sorry about March. I was too in my head about so much shit and you’re right, I took it out on everyone and I’m still trying to make up for it.”

“Effort doesn’t ever go unnoticed if people look and feel it hard enough.”

Carmy chews on his lips at that, “if you believe that…then why do you feel what I said about dating—uh us—about us dating is out of the blue?”

“I said that?”

“Your eyes did. It’s the most expressive thing about you which is funny to me when you talk so much shit about mine when you hide the rest of it away on your face. It’s fucking confusing but I think I gathered that from our dinner tonight.”

Carmy was just as detail oriented as you. It was in his language with food and maybe even in his tattoos that you tried to understand starting with his fingers first. The way he spoke about what he would do with the dishes that were lackluster, except for the dessert—that was pretty good. Carmy wasn’t much of a talker because he wasn’t sure how to express himself, always been that way since you knew of him at Noma…but he told just enough in his dishes and you told just enough between the lines you wrote.

Someone just had to look hard enough.

“…I ever tell you I was engaged? Of course I didn’t, we’re still…I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here Carmen but I’m starting to sense that we could be special if we both want this badly.”

“What do you want?”

“Does anyone ever really know?” You laughed, “ I guess someone to look past the circumstanial and I had that once but then he died. So that was the end of that.”

“You swore off love.”

“Love is many things but maybe I closed off the long lasting part.”

Carmy could relate to that as least with family. He never had much interest in romance even growing up because he lacked that confidence in anything being permanent besides the chaos he’s used to, then he found some of it once he proved what he fucking set out to do yet cooking was all Carmen really opened himself up to. While Luca and others encouraged him to have a night out in the town, he always left early or if there was one person that caught his interest, they get to talking and both get bored of each other since Carmy hardly made the move to take them back to his. Before Noma?

Maybe.

Back in Paris there was one that could have been permanent but Carmy had to break her heart since Noma was calling. Culinary was his true love and he honestly couldn’t tell you what she even looked like now if you asked him. Things that should have mattered tended to get buried in the blue of his mind unfortunately.

He didn’t have the time to be attached and you didn’t want to have your heart ripped out again.

“How’d—

“He was a firefighter.” Was all you said and just those words alone told carmy it was anything but peaceful.

It took a lot for carmy to scream at himself how Michael went out and he imagined it might have been the same for you. So he wouldn’t dare ask for further morbid details because what did that help?

So maybe you weren’t wrong about the both of you not being ready to take that step on going on dates but change was everlasting.

“Uh—what about breakfast then after that not so great meal?” Carmy asks as he pulls off from the curb now.

You think about it. Really think about it that carmy starts to assume you may have dozed off.

“Depends on the time honestly? And who am I to turn down a free meal?” You beamed at Carmy who lifts his shoulders with a chuckle.

Carmy explains, “Syd and I usually start our days early, sometimes even earlier for me if I don’t get enough hours in. but thanks to the reno those on the early shift can get prep ready and I heard…you’re not a morning person?”

You’re just as sarcastic but there’s no lies, “I don’t even know my name or birthdate when I first wake up…what do you think?”

Carmy snickered at that, “okay? So how does 10am sound?”

“That’s pushing it but…I think I can be there so that’ll give me the rest of the day to work from home.”

Carmy nods, “can’t wait to read it. Shake on it?”

“On what? My review or showing up?”

“Both.”

“I’m not sending you a sneak peek, maybe syd or even nat but not you.”

“Ouch.” Carmy mocks, still waiting for your hand to touch his.

And when you do there’s a spark, that makes you yank your hand back and you feel like you’re in one of those cheesy teen movies.

You’re aware carmy’s felt that too but he just clears his throat and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. Leaving you to lightly massage the palm of your hand, now glancing at the profile of carmy’s face.

Life takes time to live but once you start to just let it be, the green starts to stand out more and can be equally as joyous…once you get through the rain and mud that is.

And once the ice blue sets back on you, the both of you can’t exactly see the future but there’s always warmth waiting for the cold to give them a try.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

February fluff anthology series continues here.

[andreafmn]

Collision | Chapter 23

Word Count: 4.4K Warnings: medical procedures, death

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

A/N: goodness me, I know it's been forever since I've updated anything. I've been in a bit of a mental rut and nothing was coming to me, but I'm finishing up a couple of updates so I'll definitely be publishing a few things this week. Also, please don't hate me for updating the less loved Twilight fic. Speak is coming soon 🫣🫣 also also, new character 👀👀

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(Y/N) knew it had been too quiet for too long.

Well, not entirely quiet.

After the encounter with Laurent in the woods, his friend Victoria had shown up. The vampire had gone through hitchhikers in Forks like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. It had the sheriff station in Forks and La Push on high alert. There were too many bodies and not enough explanations—at least none that could be known by the public.

The pack had already doubled their efforts during their patrols, doing all in their power to run the redhead out of their land while protecting the Swan duo in theirs. They had lost sleep and had been overworked for weeks. The vampire had bested them in every move, taunting the pack with her swift and calculated moves.

But the important thing was that Bella was safe, and she seemed to be getting better. At least for the past couple of weeks, she had been better. That’s what (Y/N) thought until she got a call one early March morning.

“What do you mean Bella knows about you?” (Y/N) said through gritted teeth. “And it happened a week ago? Why am I just finding out? I literally talked to her before spring break started.”

“It seems Jacob hinted to the stories she used to hear when she was a kid,” Sam sighed. “Gotta give it to the kid. He really found a workaround the rules. I was gonna tell you as soon as it happened, but you had your exams and everything, so no one wanted to worry you with it.”

“How did she take it? Is everyone okay?”

“Well, Jake and Paul had a little row because Bella blamed us for Jacob keeping his distance from her,” her brother chuckled. “And, well, Paul got a bit mouthy, and Bella ended up slapping him—at least, attempting to—which cause him to get angry and phase. Subsequently Jacob phased to protect her. They’re both fine now and Bella knows everything.”

“And no rules were broken I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed. “But Bella now knows about wolves and vampires and somehow is back in the center of all supernatural danger. Isn’t this all just great?” 

“This is gonna sound harsh, but I prefer her being hunted than you, (Y/N),” Sam admitted. “I know we can protect you in our land, but this one is ruthless and relentless. I would hate for her to have your scent.”

“Well, she doesn’t, thankfully,” she said. “Don’t think she even had my description since you killed her friend. But I thought we were gonna be more proactive when sharing information now.”

“I know, but I wanted you to at least pass that test first,” he confessed. “Look at you now, on your first week as a student doctor.”

“I still can’t believe it’s happening,” (Y/N) exclaimed. “I don’t know what spirits are looking out for me, but it’s almost unbelievable that I’ve been able to do any of this. It takes months for Step 1 to be revised and for college credits to go through. But I’m knocking on wood that these miracles keep happening like this. Might just become the youngest doctor in Washington.”

“If there’s anyone who could do it, it had to be my genius sister.”

“Thanks for the flattery, it does me well in the mornings,” she chuckled. “But I do have to get into work soon. So, thank you for this new information. I will call Bella and see how she’s doing after my shift.”

“Alright, sounds good, Dr. Uley.”

“I like how that sounds,” she beamed. “I’ll see you after work. Bye, Sam.”

“Bye, Dr. Uley.”

When (Y/N) entered the hospital that morning, she believed it would be another routine day. A couple of flu cases, possibly some broken bones in the ER, maybe even a more pressing case. But she had not expected to see Harry Clearwater coming through the doors of the emergency room, Sue trailing close behind.

“(Y/N), I’m gonna need you on this one,” Dr. Mollins, the ER attending, called. “Let’s move the patient to Trauma 1. Talk to me.”

“We’ve got a man in his mid to late 50s showing signs of a severe myocardial infarction,” the paramedic said as he pushed the gurney into the building. “He went into cardiac arrest during transport, but we were able to regain sinus rhythm. He was administered two milligrams of epi.”

(Y/N) felt stuck in her spot, her limbs frozen as the familiar faces moved past her. She had seen her fair share of emergencies during her time at the hospital and her past internships. But seeing someone that she knew completely defenseless and unconscious shot ice through her veins.

“Dr. Uley!” Mollins called her again. “I need you here, now!” 

“Yes, o-of course,” the young woman stammered as she felt her brain finally jumpstart. She sent Sue an apologetic smile as she walked through the curtain that separated Harry’s room from the rest of the beds. “I’m here.”

As soon as she slid the curtain behind her, (Y/N), Eden Mollins, and a nurse started to examine Harry. His blood was extracted, his pulse and his blood pressure were taken, his lungs were listened to, and his temperature was taken. All the while, the man remained unconscious, and (Y/N) prayed to whatever was out there that he at least opened his eyes.

Every second that passed, the girl’s breath hitched in her throat. All she could do was think back at the summers she would spend in the Clearwaters home, running around with Seth and Leah while Harry watched over them, how he and Billy would gather all the kids around the bonfire to tell them stories about the ancestors, how he watched over her and Sam when her father had decided to disappear from their lives.

“I wanna run an EKG and an Echo on the patient,” Eden instructed. “And call in a CT and a chest MRI. The patient is still unconscious, so…”

“Harry,” (Y/N) choked out. “His name is Harry.”

“Excuse me?”

“The patient’s name is Harry,” she restated. “Harry Clearwater.”

“Do you know the pa… Mr. Clearwater, Uley?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You have to tell me right now if that will impair your treatment of the patient today, Uley,” the doctor said. “I cannot have you freeze like you did.”

“Good,” he nodded. “He seems stable for now, so go out there and get some background from the wife. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright then.”

The doctor slid the curtains open to reveal a teary-eyed Sue. Once he was gone, (Y/N) allowed herself to throw her arms around the woman, wrapping her in a tight, warm hug as she whispered how sorry she was. “What happened, Sue?” she whispered. “What caused this? He seemed fine last week.”

“Oh gods, (Y/N), it was just too much for him,” the woman sniffled. “It was Leah. She phased.”

“W-what? Leah shifted into a wolf? How is that possible?”

“That’s not all. The second Harry was down, Seth phased too,” she added. “He said only boys turned into wolves, (Y/N). How could it be that Leah is one too?”

“I could not tell you, Sue,” (Y/N) breathed. “This is just as new to me as it is to you. But what could have triggered the change in Leah? I don’t get it. Thought there were normally signs.”

“Well, she had been acting out a lot recently, and her body started changing dramatically. I thought she was just being a normal moody teenager and that maybe she was going through a second puberty,” Sue sighed. “But this morning, we were arguing about how horrible her mood swings had been, and she just exploded. One second, my daughter was standing before us. And the next, there was a grey wolf breaking through our couch. The shock sent Harry down. His heart just couldn’t take it—you know he’s always had trouble with it. Then, Seth—poor thing—seeing his father go down got so anxious that he shifted too. I tried calling Sam after I called 911, but Emily told me he was out with his wolves chasing that leech out of the forest. “It was all so sudden, (Y/N),” the woman cried, taking (Y/N)’s offered hand. “She ran out the door with Seth behind and I couldn’t stop them. I had to get Harry to the hospital.”

“Oh, Sue, that’s just horrible,” the girl said. “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Tell me, (Y/N). Is it bad? Is Harry gonna be okay?”

(Y/N) took in a steadying breath as she braced herself to tell one of the people who had essentially raised her that her husband was not showing good signs. How could she speak those words when she didn’t want to believe them herself? “Look, Sue, I can’t lie to you. Things are not looking good,” she explained. “With his age, his pre-existing condition, and the severity of this episode, it’s still too early to tell. We need him to wake up in order to assess the situation fully. If not…”

“I know,” Sue interjected. “I just don’t know what I would do without him.”

“Okay, let’s not go there just yet, Sue,” (Y/N) stammered. “Why don’t you call someone to be with you while we run labs? I wouldn’t want you to be alone right now.”

“Don’t worry about me, (Y/N),” she softly smiled. “I already called Charlie and Billy. They’re on their way here already.”

“Good. I’m gonna go check on his labs. If you need anything or need me here, just let one of the nurses know and they’ll page me right back.”

“That’s alright, (Y/N). I know you’re busy.”

When she left the room, (Y/N) finally felt like she could breathe. But there was a nagging in the deepest corners of her head that was telling her that something bad was going to go down. Yet, she wanted to listen to the rational side of her brain. Harry was in the best place to receive treatment if another episode were to happen. She had to trust that they would be able to help him. She simply had to.

The girl busied herself with other patients’ labs and filing anything that kept her as far away from Harry’s results as possible. She couldn’t face another loss so quickly. Not yet. She wasn’t sure if her heart could take it.

During her short life, (Y/N) had faced too many grievances that had forced her to grow up too quickly. Her father had walked out of her life when she was too young, and she needed him the most, forcing her mother to spend too much time at work and too little time at home. Most of the time, it was only Sam and her at home dealing with their schoolwork and food. Then, right as they were learning how to be the dynamic duo, she was accepted at St. Agustine Prep, and she had to learn how to be by herself for the better part of four years. After, she met the man she thought would be her future, and he ripped her heart apart like it hadn’t been fragile to begin with. Sadness was simply a part of (Y/N)’s existence, but she didn’t think there was more she could take.

(Y/N) prayed quietly. She prayed harder than she ever had before in her life. She didn’t know to what exactly, but she prayed.

And yet, the universe rarely played things out in the way she wanted.

The young woman was on her way to greet Billy Black and Charlie Swan when a loud ringing alarm called her attention. It was the soundtrack of despair, the theme song of disappointment, and the last thing (Y/N) wanted to hear. Her legs started moving before she could think twice, setting off for Harry’s room. There, the flatlining sound filled her ears, mixed with Sue’s pleas for help as nurses pulled her aside to allow the doctors to work.

“The patient’s coding, Uley,” Eden called out. “Start compressions. This is your call.”

(Y/N) was already on Harry before Mollins had finished his sentence. Her full attention was on her counts, pressing on his chest like she had been taught to do. One, two, three, four, all the way to thirty before the nurse administered air pumps. Then again, and again.

“Push one milligram of epi,” (Y/N) called out, not stopping her compressions for another three minutes. “Check rhythm.” 

As she removed her hands, the screen showed a red line once more, and that pesky sound filled the room again. “Still asystole,” Eden said. “Push another milligram and clear for defib.” 

(Y/N) continued her work as sweat formed on her forehead. She pushed into the man’s chest at a steady pace, even when she felt her limbs wanted to give out. Her legs trembled under her, and her heart hammered loudly against her chest, but she couldn’t stop. Even after two defibrillations that yielded no results, the girl kept administering compressions.

“Uley, it’s time to call it,” Mollins whispered softly at the young doctor. “It’s been over thirty minutes.” 

“No!” (Y/N) exclaimed. Beads of sweat were falling down her face and mixing with her tears, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Not for Harry. “I’ve gotta keep going!” 

“(Y/N),” Eden called her, taking hold of her wrists and forcing her gaze to break from the man. “It’s time to call it.”

“I can’t,” she trembled as she fell onto the doctor. “He can’t…” 

But the consistent sound of a flatline killed her words. That was it. Her first patient was gone, and it was someone she had looked up to like a father. Despite all of her efforts, he was gone, and there was nothing else she could do about it.

“Time of death: 1542,” the doctor called to the nurse before turning back to the crumbling girl. “You did everything you could, (Y/N). You did everything right.”

“But he’s gone,” she cried. “He’s gone, and I could’ve done more.”

“No. There was nothing at all that you could have done,” Eden said. "Unfortunately, this is part of the job. We can’t save them all, (Y/N), but you absolutely did everything you could have.” 

“I know I can’t save them all, but I needed to save him.” 

“Tell you what, I’m gonna break the news to the family right now,” the young man said. “You’re gonna take a second to compose yourself before you go out there, and I want you to take the rest of the day off to rest.” 

“I shouldn’t…” 

“I know that it’s unconventional, and most doctors would have said that you needed to get used to it,” he added. “But you need this, (Y/N). This case is too personal, and I know it’s gonna take a toll on you.” 

“Okay,” she whimpered. “Thank you, Dr. Mollins.” 

“I already told you, (Y/N). When we’re off a case, it’s Eden.” 

The moment Eden left the room, the silence that filled it was worse than the beeping and the alarms. It was eerie and loaded, and it made (Y/N) feel like it would swallow her at any moment.

Yet, the only other presence there was Harry. His face was covered with a white sheet, shielding his body from everyone. And for that, she was thankful. (Y/N) couldn’t look at his face. She knew her mind would trick her into thinking that he was merely sleeping and that at any moment, he would wake up and say the most unfunny joke she had heard of, but she would have laughed anyway because it would have meant that he was alive.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she whispered to him. “I tried so hard. I hope you know that.”

“He does, honey.” Sue’s voice startled her. Tears stained the woman’s face, but her desperation was gone. She wrapped her arms around the younger girl, smoothing down her hair in a comforting manner. “He knows how hard you fought for him, (Y/N). It was just his time.”

“He was fine just last week,” she sobbed. “I can’t believe he’s just gone now.”

“As long as he is in our memories, he will never truly be gone,” the woman smiled sadly. “But he is with our spirits now, reunited with his ancestors.”

“Harry will never be forgotten that I can promise you, Sue.”

“He really loved you, (Y/N),” Sue mentioned. “He was always so amazed by everything that you were doing. He loved to boast about how far he knew you’d go to literally anyone who would listen. Deep down, he wanted Leah and Sam to work out so we’d be officially family.”

“I’m really gonna miss him, Sue. I wish I had spent more time with him these last few years. And now…”

“Oh, honey, no. Don’t do that,” the woman comforted. “Harry knew how busy you are, how busy you’ve always been. He was just so happy to know you were doing something you loved.”

“May his soul rest easy now,” the girl whimpered before placing a hand on Harry’s. “Until we meet again, Harry.”

(Y/N) excused herself from the room, allowing Sue to have one last moment with Harry. Outside, she acknowledged Charlie and Billy, giving them a sad smile before she disappeared into the doctor’s locker rooms. She couldn’t face another person who was close to Harry, not when she could still feel the beat of his heart under her hands.

Inside the locker room, she allowed herself to break down. She crumpled to the floor, clutching at her chest as every emotion came barreling down on her. There was pain and turmoil, anger and disappointment. But most of all, it was the harrowing sadness that she had been carrying since she was a little girl that draped itself over her, swallowing her completely and dragging her into the darkness.

Until a voice pulled her out. “Hey, hey, Uley,” Eden called as he kneeled in front of her. “Come on, you need to breathe. Take a deep breath.”

“I-I-I c-can’t,” she stammered. Her breath got trapped in her chest, tightening her lungs and making them burn for oxygen.

“Yes, you can. Come on,” he encouraged. “Match my breaths, okay? Come on, in and out.”

Eden took deep breaths, exhaling after holding them for five seconds. His hands found hers, forcing her gaze to snap to his. He continued the breathing exercises until she was finally able to match his pace. Her body stopped shaking, and feeling started returning to her limbs as her sobs quieted down. As weakness took over her, (Y/N) crashed onto Eden’s chest, allowing him to wrap her in a warm and comforting hug.

It was an unexpected embrace that she was more than thankful for. Eden had come to the hospital three months after Carlisle had left to fill the hole left in the emergency department. When (Y/N) had entered and started her clinical rotations, he had been tasked with being her teacher in emergency medicine.  

He had not taken to her quickly. From her work as a medical assistant, he had said she was far too young and too inexperienced to be in the hospital. Though he had eaten his words in a short amount of time, he still seemed to hold some sort of disdain for her. At least, that’s what she had thought until that very moment.

“Hey, there you go,” he cooed. “Just keep breathing, okay?”

“Gods,” (Y/N) croaked out. “I’m sorry. I know I should be okay with death, but this…”

“You don’t have to apologize, (Y/N). Never apologize for the emotions you’re feeling,” Eden reassured. “Especially not after losing someone close to you. That is something no one could ever fault you for.”

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” the girl blurted. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but it’s not a secret that you don’t really like me.”

“Why would you think that?” she asked, his tone hinting at being slightly offended. “I don’t think I’ve given any indication of that.”

“Come on, Eden. You’re always giving me dirty looks and have gotten mad at me at any turn this whole week. It’s not hard to decipher that you don’t really enjoy my presence at the hospital.”

“Oh god, no. That has nothing to do with you—at least not directly,” he quickly assured. "I think you’re a brilliant doctor, and I’m honestly so impressed that you’re here at your age. My attitude has more to do with the fact that my parents saw you working here a week after I finally got here, and they were on me because I could have been like you.”

“What, a terrified nineteen-year-old playing at being a doctor?”

“Christ, I didn’t think you’d heard that,” he grimaced. “That came from a really childish place. It’s just that my parents have always pushed me to be the best, much to my detriment. I had the ability to jump a few grades or do dual enrollment like you did, but I wanted the whole high school experience. So, even if I graduated at sixteen and finished my bachelor's in three years, I could have always done better. So, here I am at twenty-five and already an attending, but in comes a nineteen-year-old med student who somehow was able to skip two whole years of med school and had an almost perfect Step 1 score, and suddenly my achievements aren’t good enough anymore. I’m sorry I ever said that. I mean, I’m a grown-ass man caring what my parents think.”

“Don’t worry,” she smiled softly. “It just made me want to prove myself even more. I’m kind of used to people underestimating me.”

“Yeah, I quickly learned I shouldn’t have,” he chuckled. “You’re a great doctor, (Y/N), and a great person.”

“Well, thank you,” she beamed. "It honestly means a lot coming from you, especially now.”

“I can promise that was the first and last time I ever underestimate you,” Eden smiled brightly.  “Now, you should go home. Your brother just came back.”

“Came back?”

“He arrived when you were down at the CT scan, but he left for an emergency,” the man responded. “He just came back a minute after you left the room.”

At the word emergency, (Y/N) jumped to her feet and ran toward the emergency room, new tears forming in the corners of her eyes. It was a word that held too much weight even before the entire picture was shown. After that morning, the girl could only expect the worst.

Her limbs carried her automatically, her brain not registering where she was going until she crashed into someone. “Is someone else hurt?” she managed to croak out. “Tell me what happened, Sam.”

“Hey, breathe, (Y/N),” her brother instructed as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. “No one’s hurt. Okay? It was just an accident.”

“That still doesn’t make things clearer. What accident?”

“Bella sort of jumped or slipped off a high cliff while we were running Victoria all the way up to the Canadian border,” he said. “I had been here for no more than ten minutes when Jared called me and said that Jake had gotten there just in time. She’s fine now. A bit shaken up and cold, but she’s at Billy’s house resting. You don’t have to worry, (Y/N). It’s been handled.”

“So, she almost drowned, and all she’s doing is sleeping it off?” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Why didn’t you bring her here? She needs to be checked out!”

“(Y/N), I need you to calm down, okay? She chose not to come, and you shouldn’t be worrying about this. You should be going home and resting, too.”

“But she’s…”

“You’re in no headspace to worry about other people, Bean,” Sam cooed as he smoothed down his sister’s hair. “Go home, kid. Rest up. We’ve got things from here.”

“But…”

“Go home, (Y/N),” Sue interjected, a kind smile softly stretching her face. “All that’s left here is legal mumbo jumbo. You’ve done everything you possibly can.”

“I just feel like I need to help in some way. Either here or with Bella. I just…”

“You can’t help anyone if you don’t take care of yourself, Bean,” her brother interrupted. “I promise we’ve got everything handled here, kid.”

After much insistence and a lot of back-and-forth, (Y/N) finally agreed to take her afternoon off and head back home. But loneliness was quick to follow as soon as she was by herself. It sank its claws into her throat and started a never-ending stream of tears that stained her cheeks. Helplessness gripped her chest, nagging at her mind and reminding her of all the things she couldn’t do.

Before she knew it, the afternoon had slowly shifted into night, and (Y/N)’s eyes had fluttered shut in the hospital parking lot. Now, with less weight in her heart and a tight knot in her neck, she sputtered her truck to life and started her trip back home, where she would most likely repeat the same process all over again.

When she got there, the house was eerily quiet, and the cold seeped into her bones as though winter was still scratching its way to the surface. But she knew why it felt that way, and she knew it would be like that for a long time.

Other than Sue, (Y/N) couldn’t get Seth and Leah out of her head. Not only had they been sprung into the supernatural world in such a dramatic way, but they had also lost their father and had not been able to say goodbye. She wondered if they were scared or angry, if a part of them felt guilty. She knew she did, and she couldn’t imagine how heavy it had to weigh on their own hearts and minds.

She was typing their house number when her house phone suddenly rang in her hand, startling her. “Hello?” she said through the phone.

“(Y/N), hi, it’s uh, Bella,” the Swan girl stammered in her usual fashion. “I heard about… I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, Bella,” she smiled sadly, swallowing down the knot that threatened to close her throat. “Are you okay? Sam told me what happened this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It was just a horrible accident,” Bella answered quickly. “But I’m fine now. I was actually calling about something else.”

“Oh. Uh, what is it?” 

“Do you think you could come over right after the funeral?”

“To your house?” (Y/N) questioned. “Why?”

“I think there’s someone you should see.” 

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[waywardxwords]

Chapter 3 - We'll Always Have Atlanta (Taking Chances)

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: Slight language, teeny bit of fluff, some good, old dramatic tension

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~3k

[1] [2]

The Blind Pig was a small hole-in-the-wall sports bar, but it sure did have a lot of patrons. Thankfully, your flight had gotten in when it was supposed to without any delays, but that had you settled in at your hotel by five o’clock and ready to meet Dean by six. You had pulled out your laptop to try and get some work done, but your eyes kept pulling to the numbers on the nightstand. 

6:02. And then again at 6:04. By 6:07, you couldn’t take it anymore. So you headed the short distance from your hotel to The Blind Pig and settled on a barstool at the bar. 

“What can I get you?” The bartender interrupted your thoughts as he dried his hands on a small dish rag. 

“A Jack and Coke, please,” you answered in an effort to calm your nerves. “And a glass of water,” so hopefully you wouldn’t get too ahead of yourself. 

The bartender nodded and grabbed a glass. Every time the front door opened, you couldn’t help but turn to see if it was Dean. But it was still only 6:45, and you knew he had a long drive. 

Just as your drink was set in front of you, you heard him clear his throat behind you. “Hey, Atlanta,” the nickname brought a smile to your lips and a shiver down your spine as you turned towards him.

“Dean,” you couldn't help your smile as you stepped down off of the stool and paused for a moment. Without thinking, you reached out and put your arms around his neck in a hug. He hesitated, but only for a moment. His arms snaked around your waist and you relished in the way his hands felt on the small of your back. 

“It’s good to see you,” he seemed honest as the words came from his mouth. You couldn’t place his scent, but you were drawn to it. It was woodsy, almost; as if he had just come from a cabin in the middle of a forest. But it was mixed with the smell of leather and peppermint, like the little round red and white candies. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” you pulled back, though you hadn’t wanted to. 

In pulling away, you were forced to meet his gaze and you found yourself lost in his eyes and the freckles that dotted his skin just under them, just like the first time you met. 

“What’re you drinking?” He slipped the leather jacket off of his shoulders and tugged the sleeves off at his hands as he pulled himself onto the barstool next to you. 

“Jack and Coke,” you answered as you, too, sat back on your barstool. “I don’t usually go the liquor route…” you trailed off a bit. 

“Back to breaking the rules, I see,” he quipped. The familiar smile you had gotten used to the last time you were together found his lips and you couldn’t help but match it. 

“Yeah, well. You’re a bad influence,” you teased back with a slight nudge. 

Even though he had seemed like the Dean you met a month ago, his demeanor shifted for a moment as he took a quick glance around the bar. He seemed to study almost every patron with an intensity that surprised you. What is he looking for? You wondered. Or who?

You cleared your throat as you swirled the amber colored liquid in your glass. When you glanced back up, his gaze was on you again. “Everything okay?” You asked him gently. 

“Oh, yeah,” he shook his head and smiled. “Sorry, just a little distracted.” You were both interrupted when the bartender appeared before you. “Hey, how’s it goin’?” Dean asked as he glanced behind the bar. The bartender nodded in response. “Could I get a Coors, bottle’s fine.” 

“Coming right up,” there was an awkwardness in the air as the bartender walked back to the cooler to retrieve the beer and silence set in.  

“So,” Dean started, his hands folded on top of the bar as he leaned forward a bit on his elbows. “How often do you come to Kansas?”

You took a sip from your drink, hoping for some liquid courage to get you through the normal uneasiness that comes along with getting to know someone. 

“Well, it varies. We just opened an office in Salina, but typically I work from home in Virginia,” you explained. 

The bartender set Dean’s bottle of beer in front of him and he nodded in thanks. “Virginia? I thought you were from Atlanta,” his response even further showed how little you knew about one another. 

“Oh, I was just connecting in Atlanta. Flying out of Richmond is painful, there aren’t really many direct flights,” you found a drop of condensation on the side of your glass and couldn’t help but smooth your finger over the bump of water. 

Dean nodded as he took a pull from his beer. “What do you do for work, again? Project management, right?” It was somewhat impressive to you that he remembered that; but then again, you remembered almost everything he had shared when you met.

“That’s right, for a health insurance company,” you answered. 

“Do you like it?” He asked, as he turned his head a bit to catch your gaze once more. It was impossible to suppress the way you choked on the sip you had just taken of your drink. 

“Like it? Work?” You asked incredulously. Dean seemed a little confused by your answer but smiled anyway. “Does anyone like what they do, Dean?”

He shrugged and took another drink of his beer. “I don’t know, how’s that saying go? ‘Love what you do and you’ll never work another day in your life?’ Something like that.”

“Ha,” you chuckled and took another sip of your drink. As the liquor’s level got lower in your cup, your nerves seemed to go with it. “Yeah, well, that’s not the life we’re living over here. What about you? You love what you do? …traveling, mechanic? Or exterminator, or something?” You smirked, still unsure what that meant exactly. 

Dean nodded with a smile but avoided eye contact. “Yeah, it’s a business that’s been in my family…for a while,” he explained somewhat carefully. Finally those green eyes found your gaze once again. 

“That sounds interesting,” you mused. And it really did. You had never heard of either of those being jobs where one would travel. 

“It’s more on the exterminator side,” he cleared his throat. The look on his face seemed more serious as he explained. “We do the jobs that people really don’t wanna do.” 

You nodded as you tried to follow, but you had zero clue. “I read an article about a massive boa constrictor living in a lady’s attic once. Those kinda jobs?”

“Sort of,” he answered, but didn’t seem willing to offer up more information as he shifted the topic. “Working on cars is just something I do for fun, mostly. But if I can make some money out of it, then great.” 

The sounds of the bar sunk in around you. It wasn’t that you weren’t excited by being near Dean again, because you were. But you couldn’t help how different everything felt. As the feelings swirled around in your head long enough to make a milkshake out of them, Dean caught on. 

“You okay?” When you found his eyes again, you noticed the small worry lines indented just outside them. It took just one look for you to realize he had caught you in the midst of your thoughts. 

“It’s fine,” you smiled, but a quick glance back to your liquid courage gave you what you needed to continue. “It’s just that this feels so different than it did in Atlanta. You seem different.” You emphasized. 

A slight chuckle fell from his lips. He, too, looked back to his beer (though you weren’t sure if it was for courage, or just to gather his thoughts) before he spoke again. “Atlanta was different. Less complicated,” he offered up. 

“But Kansas is complicated?” You asked as you tried to follow. 

“I’m complicated,” he filled in the blanks as his lips found the opening of the glass bottle once more. 

“Ah,” you nodded, as your finger smoothed over another drop of condensation on your glass. “Complicated as in…married? Kids? …ex-convict?” You snuck in the last one with a serious side-eye. 

This time, he couldn’t contain the chuckle and he laughed. “No, no. Nothing like that. Definitely not married, no kids. And no convictions, or charges even, for that matter.” His words eased your thoughts. 

You nodded in hopes that he might continue, but there was a hesitation there. Still, you let it linger. You had learned that sometimes if you let the silence hang open long enough, they might just take you up on it. 

He cleared his throat and emitted a sigh. “Atlanta was…” he paused to consider the word choice. “…amazing. Truly, it was incredible. Life is complicated for me, but in Atlanta, when we met that day,” he shook his head and a smile pulled at his lips once more as he reminisced. “It was like we could be ourselves, without having to look over our shoulders or put up a front.”

You hadn’t really thought about it that way, and now that you did–you wondered if that was why you had been so drawn to Dean in the first place. But it felt bigger than that; different.

“I honestly never thought I’d hear from you again…” his voice dropped a bit softer and his eyes moved back to the bar in front of him. “Why did you call?” He turned back to you once more.

This time, you were in the hot seat. He had every right to ask. “I’m not sure, to be honest,” you started slowly. For a moment, you wondered how much you should open up to him. Again, you didn’t know him. But in the same breath, you felt too tired and too old to be playing games or skirting around difficult conversations. “You know what, Dean?” It was your turn to sigh. “Screw it, full transparency?” You hesitated only long enough for him to nod. “Something about meeting you was so different. Remember how I told you I had all these rules for myself?” He smirked, but nodded once more. “Well, when I was with you–I broke just about all of them. And I know that probably sounds stupid, but that’s a big deal to me. I didn’t even feel bad breaking them. I just felt free.” The discomfort of being completely honest with him settled in the pit of your stomach as you took a breath. Your eyes watched him closely for any kind of reaction.

Dean smiled as he took another drink from his beer. This time, you noticed the smile met his eyes and it sparked the Dean you remembered meeting a month ago.

“That’s a damn good answer,” Dean nodded as he looked back to find your gaze once more. “And for the record,” he nudged you gently. “It’s not stupid.” The feelings of discomfort were replaced once more with bubbles of anxiousness and hope–like maybe you hadn’t made a mistake, after all. The ice clinked around your nearly empty glass. “You wanna take a walk? There’s not much, but there are some cool Christmas lights up in town.” Dean nodded for the door.

Old you would have warned you that this was still not the best idea; would’ve reminded you that you didn’t know Dean, and walking around a strange town at night with a near-stranger was dangerous and dumb. But at that moment, you didn’t care.

“Let’s do it.”

Both you and Dean had your hands shoved in the front of your jackets’ pockets–the chill of the late November air bit at any piece of exposed flesh. 

“Your favorite movie of all time is Speed?” Dean asked incredulously as his breath fogged in front of his face. Your steps were slow and carefree as your eyes wandered the multicolored lights strung around the center of the town.

“I don’t have a favorite movie ‘of all time’,” you air-quoted him, but quickly made the decision to return your hands to your coat pockets. “It’s just a good one! Don’t you remember the days they played that movie on FX over and over and over again on weekends? It was always on!”

Dean shook his head with a laugh. “I guess so, I don’t really remember. I didn’t watch a whole lotta TV growing up.” He answered. You noted that, for maybe a future question.

“Alright, alright,” you moved on with a roll of your eyes. “Favorite band?” 

“I don’t have just one,” he answered quickly. Another mental note that the man must love music and know his favorites. “Metallica, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin,” he said. “Those are some of the best.”

“Those are some good ones,” you hummed as you continued your walk. “I grew up on country and alternative rock, mostly. But I sure did love the boy band era.” The look on his face caused you to laugh. “Oh, come on. What girl in the 90s didn’t?! New Kids on the Block, Backstreet Boys, N’SYNC…”

“Okay, okay,” he waved you off. “Enough of that crap. I haven’t listened to any of that shit so far, not happening now.”

Your feet stopped moving. Dean slowed to a stop before he turned to look at you, that some look of concern across his face.

“You’ve never listened to any of the boy bands?!” Your voice practically squeaked. Dean rolled his eyes and turned back to walk ahead. You hurried your steps to catch up to him, and without thinking, you looped your arm through his. “Oh, we gotta change that.”

“Sweetheart, did you not hear the part where I said it’s never gonna happen?” A playful smile turned up one corner of his lips as he looked down at you. In your closeness, you realized how tall he really was–at least six feet–and your throat suddenly felt very dry.

“Never say never, De,” your voice was soft but you matched his smile. As you looked back to the path in front of you, you realized the two of you had circled back to the Blind Pig parking lot. You cleared your throat and pulled your arm from his. He blinked a few times and cleared his own throat before he glanced down to his boots and then back up at you.

“You, uh, you got a rental car? Or need a ride?” His eyes grazed over the parking lot filled with ten or so cars. 

“Yep, that’s mine there,” you pointed out the red Honda CR-V. Dean made a face again with a slight scrunch of his nose, which made you laugh. “I know, I know. It’s a soccer mom’s dream.” You rolled your eyes. “What do you drive, anyway?” You folded your arms across your chest and prepared to tease him for rocking a beat up truck or his work van.

Dean, proudly, leaned against a sleek black car that looked classic and well-kept. It was one of those moments you thought you might have to pick your jaw up off of the pavement as your eyes widened.

“This is your car?” You asked in amazement as you took a step closer.

“Hell yeah, that’s Baby,” he gleamed as his eyes traveled over the shiny black coat that almost glistened in the glow of the streetlights.

“You would name your car,” you laughed softly as your eyes followed his gaze. You did feel a tiny bit impressed, though.

“Did you just try to offend me?” He narrowed his eyes at you with a smile. “Ain’t gonna work, sweetheart. This car is my pride and joy.” He looked back at you as he leaned against the driver’s side door. 

“It’s a beautiful car, Dean,” your eyes danced over the Impala before the wind blew gently against the side of your face once more and caused you to shudder. A quick glance to Dean realized he had felt it, too. “Thanks,” you started softly. “I appreciate you driving all this way to see me.”

He took a careful step closer so he was just in front of you. Suddenly, you didn’t feel as cold anymore. “Thanks for calling,” his voice reverberated in your ears as he spoke. You enjoyed how his voice was seasoned–gruff and experienced–but still had a way of making you feel warm inside. “How long are you in town for?” His eyes darted to your hairline and, without processing, he reached up to brush back a strand that had blown free from your hair tie. You followed his eyes and shivered again.

“I have some meetings tomorrow, then I leave early Wednesday morning,” you answered.

Without hesitation, he spoke again. “Can I see you again?”

A smile stretched across your face–one that you were sure met your eyes. “Are you asking me out on a date?” You bit down and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

He couldn’t help but smile. “I just might be.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, somewhat teasingly. “I think I could agree to that. But one condition.” Dean nodded with a slight roll of his eyes, playfully. “No more awkward first-time-seeing each other shit. I really had fun with you. I felt like we were in Atlanta all over again.” 

Dean nodded with a quick glance down to his boots, then back at you again. “Yeah, okay, I can make that deal.”

You put your hand out in front of you for Dean to shake on it. Dean took one glance down at your hand, but then back at your face with a small smirk. Slowly, but strategically, he leaned down and captured your lips with his in a soft, sweet kiss.

“See you tomorrow, Atlanta,” he murmured as your lips parted.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the likes, comments and reblogs on the last chapter! It was very much appreciated. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy chapter 3! :)

Chapters will be posted on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

Preview of the next chapter:

A quick glance at the clock on the wall made you inwardly groan–how could it only be 11:23 in the morning? Work days were known to drag on, but this was overkill. You figured it might have something to do with the fact that you were just hours away from seeing Dean again. It had taken you far too long to fall asleep the night before; you couldn’t stop thinking about that damn kiss.

The way his lips felt against yours…the way it made you feel inside…

The buzz from your cell phone distracted you and shook you from your thoughts.

Dean

Hey, Atlanta.

You didn’t think you’d ever get tired of the nickname. Another buzz caught you off guard.

Dean

Or should I say, Hotlanta?

The text made you laugh out loud, which would have been fine had you been alone somewhere. Instead, colleagues that you hardly knew because you worked remotely all turned to look at you.

“Sorry about that,” you said softly as you excused yourself from the cubicle you had borrowed for your time in the office. You stood in the hallway as you typed out a response.

Hi, Dean…you’re ridiculous, but that still made me laugh anyway.

You nibbled on a pesky hangnail that had formed on your thumb as you waited for his text back.

Dean

I do what I can. You still up for dinner tonight?

You hurriedly typed back before you hit ‘send’ and shoved the phone in your back pocket to head back to your desk.

100% yes! I can leave here at 4, but I’m driving to you this time. Just send me the address and I’ll meet you there!

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[mynameismckenziemae]

She’s a Fire-Chapter XXII

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x OFC/Reader (no use of y/n)

Send your mind spinning

(previous chapter here, next chapter here)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, orgasm delay/denial, m masturbation, fingering, etc.

“Oh God, don’t ever let me drink again,” Bradley whines behind you the next morning.

“Can’t handle your liquor anymore, old man?” You tease.

“No, I don’t think I can,” he grumbles against your neck, “but I’m not old.”

“Says the man turning 34 next month.”

“I’m only 3 years older than you!” He argues. “Fuck, my head hurts.”

“You poor thing,I’ll get you some ibuprofen and food.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Sunny feels about the same as Bradley but they’re both much less green once they’ve eaten.

Once everything is packed, you say your temporary goodbyes as Jake and Nat are delaying their honeymoon until next winter since they will be back in a few days too for another deployment.

The plane ride home is uneventful and finally, the Uber drops you both off at home.

The next few days are busy with getting back to work, you both unpacking, and Bradley packing for the deployment.

Too soon it’s 5:45 in the morning-the day he departs. You see him off at the door.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you murmur against his lips.

“I’ll miss you too,” he replies after he pulls off from your kiss.

“I’m going to tell you now since I don’t know when we’ll talk next. No getting off the week before your birthday.” You smile as you watch his eyes widen.

“The entire week? I don’t know if I can do it,” he whines.

“You can, and you will. Don’t make me ask Bob to keep an eye on you.”

He shudders and a flush rises to his cheeks. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy,” you purr, cupping his erection through his service khakis. “Just that week though, it’s a free-for-all all before then.”

“Thank God,” he breathes and gives you a quick peck. “I love you, Row. I’ll talk to you as soon as I can.”

“Can’t wait. I love you too. Be safe, okay?”

He nods and waves as he drives off.

Not only was this going to be Bradley’s longest deployment yet at 4-5 weeks, it was the first actual mission, not just training. Even though he said it shouldn’t be anything dangerous, you were still going to worry. And you really hope he’ll be back in time for his birthday.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

3 weeks pass (thankfully) quicker than you thought they would. Work keeps you busy during the week and Sunny’s occupied 1 out of the 3 weekends.

Bradley’s only been able to talk twice—briefly while you were at work, and a longer, more satisfying call the previous weekend.

He warned you at the end of his last call he might not be able to talk again before he’s home, but he’s optimistic that he’ll be home for his birthday—just over a week away.

You scroll Facebook from home on your lunch break and your heart nearly breaks when you come across a picture of a beautiful young dog with the saddest brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

*Urgent!*

This is Lola.

Lola is roughly a year old and is a big girl at 90 lbs, but is full-grown. We think she’s a Newfoundland mix with her long, black and white coat. Lola was tied outside the shelter last week with a note that she’s “untrainable” and other not-Facebook-appropriate words.

We need help. She is not handling shelter life well—she’s not eating or drinking; just curls herself in the corner, shaking and hiding her head under her bed.

Lola has not shown any aggression towards people or other animals.

Please either send us a message or give us a call if you want to give Lola a home.

The shelter answers before you even realize you’re calling and a few minutes later, you’re set up to meet her after work.

You call Sunny on the way back to work who squeals when you tell her what’s going on.

“Don’t get too excited yet. Maybe it won’t work out,” you laugh but you’re just as excited (and a little nervous).

She gives you the information for the vet they take Steve to and begs you to call her back afterward.

Next, you call the vet and give them the rundown. Thankfully they’re accepting new ‘patients’ and will take Lola.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

5 hours later, Lola is lying in the back of your car with her head on the center console.

It was fate. As soon as you opened the door to her kennel, she stood up and walked over with a little wag in her tail, nuzzling your legs with her head.

The shelter gave you more information too. Her fur was a bit dull and chopped in areas because it had been matted and filthy when they found her but was otherwise in good health, probably because she was so young. According to the note, she wasn’t house trained but they’d worked with her and she had only had one accident since she’d been there, and that was the first day. They’d given you a few days worth of food and the blanket that was on her bed, which was enough to get you through the next day or two—you didn’t want to overwhelm her more by taking her more places.

“We’re home, sweetheart.” You murmur as you pull in the drive.

You praise her when she goes potty right away before going inside and you follow her around while you call Sunny as she tentatively explores.

“Did you get her?!” Sunny asks before saying hello.

“I did. Oh Sun, she is so sweet, she came right up to me when I got there. The shelter said she might not be potty trained but she only had one accident there and just went potty for me. I just hope Bradley’s okay with this. We’ve talked about getting a dog before but I probably should’ve okayed it with him first…” you cringe as you trail off.

“He’ll be so excited! Seriously. I can’t imagine any scenario where he wouldn’t love her, especially with how miserable she was at the shelter.”

“I hope so. Can we move in with you, Bob, and Steve if he kicks us out?” You joke.

“Of course!” She laughs, “Let me know when you both are ready for some company and I’ll bring Steve over.”

“Sounds good. We’ll see how she does tonight and tomorrow and I’ll let you know. I’m so glad I have Fridays off in the summer.”

The company you work for changes the hours to four 10-hour days in the summer, giving you a 3-day weekend from May through September.

“Quit rubbing it in,” she laughs. “Let me know if you need anything. Good luck tonight!”

“I will, thanks Sun.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You coax her to eat by holding some food in your hand, then holding the bowl, eventually letting you set it down. She then eats like she’s never had a meal in her life, as long as you don’t stop petting her.

The rest of the night goes better than expected, the only hiccup is she refuses to go up the steps.

It’s not worth stressing her out over though, so you make a bed on the couch, and push the ottoman next to it, but she curls up on the floor and you fall asleep stroking her fur.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

There’s a warmth against your front when you wake up and for a split second, you think Bradley’s home. But the sight you open your eyes to is almost as good. Lola’s tail timidly thumps when you smile at her.

“You’re such a sweet girl. I think Sunny’s right, Bradley’s gonna love you.”

While she does her business, you get her food ready and check the rooms downstairs—no accidents.

You spend the morning getting to know each other and by the afternoon, you’ve taught her some tricks (untrainable, huh?) and she’s made it to the third stair.

Sunny texts you on the way home from a PetSmart haul, which she did great at too.

Sunny: Just got off work. How’s it going?

Rowan: Really good! No accidents, I taught her some tricks, and I woke up with her next to me on the couch (she’s scared of the stairs). She was fine with the other dogs at PetSmart. Do you want to bring Steve over tomorrow?

Sunny: That’s great! Yes! I want to meet her!

Rowan: Sounds good! 10 work?

Sunny: Perfect, I’ll bring coffee.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Lola only makes it to the fourth step that night but you don’t mind spending it on the couch again.

When Sunny arrives, Lola barks but then cowers and your heart breaks.

“It’s okay, mama doesn’t mind when you tell me someone’s here. You can bark,” you murmur, bending down to her level.

She perks up when Steve’s tippy-taps are heard on the front porch.

You open the door and Steve comes flying in, faster than you’d think possible on 3 legs. You crack up as Lola takes off after him. Once they get their zoomies out, they sniff each other’s bottoms and are instant best friends.

The day is spent helping her with wedding preparations and hanging out with the pups. You make plans for next weekend to take them to the beach, hoping the guys are back.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You start losing that hope though as the week passes with no word. Even Penny with her ‘sources’ doesn’t know when they’ll be back.

The first thing you do is check your phone when you wake up on Friday (the day before his birthday) but set it back down with a sigh. Still nothing.

“Should we treat ourselves with a coffee and pupcup? Hmm? Think it’ll cheer us up?” You ask Lola, who’s snuggled into your side on the couch.

Her tail thumps.

“I think so too.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

After a walk and shower, you feel a little better. Once the coffee hits your tongue, you’re almost back to normal.

But seeing the Bronco in the driveway when you get back brings a smile and tears to your eyes.

Lola races you to the door, feeding off your excitement.

“Bradley?!”

No response.

Lola quiets as she starts to sniff the bag he left by the door and you hear the shower running.

“Be right back, I’m gonna go get your daddy,” You whisper, bending down to place a kiss on her head.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You hurry up the stairs and just as you’re about to push open the bathroom door, a deep groan and the lewd sound of him jerking himself off stops you in your tracks, arousal pooling between your legs.

You watch him through the cracked door in the reflection of the mirror, his back to you. His left hand is pressed against the wall, holding himself up as his right fists his cock. Water sluices down his back and over the flexing globes of his ass.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly. You can tell by his tone he’s getting close.

“Oh fuck, Row—“ he gasps as he finishes, hips slowing.

You’re soaked and want nothing more than to jump his bones. But, he should meet Lola first.

He jumps when you push open the door a minute later.

“Sorry,” you laugh, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so glad you’re here. I really didn’t think you were gonna make it back before your birthday.”

“I didn’t think so either, they kept everything hush-hush until last night when we were almost stateside,” he replies. You almost laugh at the relief in his voice. He pops his head out for a kiss. “Wanna join me?”

You shake your head. “I’d love to but I’ve got a surprise for you downstairs I want you to check out first.”

He nods before returning to the spray. “I’m almost done. Be down in a few.”

“Sounds good. Oh, and Bradley?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Did you really think I’d forget?”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as his shoulders tense behind the fogged glass. Busted.

“Your birthday isn’t until tomorrow, right?” You ask lowly, leaning against the door frame.

“Right, ma’am.”

“What did I tell you before you deployed?”

“No getting off the week before my birthday, ma’am,” he sighs.

“That’s right, Bradley. And what did you do before I came in here?”

“I got myself off, ma’am. I’m sorry, I thought—“

“You thought wrong.” You interrupt him. “I’m going downstairs to think about what I’m going to do with you. Meet me down there when you’re done.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies. You smile as you see his cock twitch before turning to head down the steps.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Lola is perched on the ottoman when you enter the living room.

“So where’s this surprise?” Bradley asks a few minutes as he comes down the stairs.

Lola’s ears perk up and her head tilts as she listens. “In the living room.”

“It better not be a new toy to spank me with—oh, who’s this?”

You smile. “This is Lola.”

“Hi Lola,” he says softly, crouching as he offers his hand for her to sniff.

Her tail starts to thump wildly as she begins to recognize his smell from the other parts of the house.

“She’s ours?” He asks, tears heavy in his voice.

“Yeah, I hope that’s okay. I know I should’ve waited until you were back but she was dumped at the shelter, and not handling it well. I didn’t even think I just called and her whole demeanor changed when she met me and then all of a sudden I had a dog and—“

He interrupts your rambling with a kiss. “It’s okay, Row. I’ve wanted a dog for a long time. I’m glad you brought her home.”

You smile and kiss him back, pulling away with a laugh when Lola sighs dramatically.

You tell him everything you know about her and he praises her when she executes her tricks perfectly.

“I bet she feels like she’s going to slip on the wooden steps. I’ll have to put some tread or carpet down, I was thinking about doing it anyway after the last time I slipped.” Bradley says after you explain her fear of the stairs.

You snort at the memory. It was only funny because he was okay.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You wake up an hour later, squished between Lola and Bradley on the couch. Lola stretches before getting down in search of a toy.

Bradley stirs a few minutes later, his cock hot and hard against your ass.

You press back and smile at his sharp intake of breath. He’s so desperate, even after getting off in the shower earlier.

You take his hand and guide it down the front of your pants. A breathy moan escapes as his fingers gather your arousal before circling your clit.

His hips grind into your ass as he plunges two fingers into your wet heat, his palm grinding against your bundle of nerves.

You cry out as your orgasm hits you, and he groans as your pussy flutters around his fingers, wishing it was his cock.

He grunts as you reach behind you, stroking him through his pants.

“I want you so bad,” he whines into the back of your neck.

“Mmmm,” you hum. “Are you close?”

He nods, gasping as he almost reaches his peak…but you pull away.

“That’s…that’s fucking mean,” he pants, his hard-on straining against his sweats.

You smirk as you straddle him, pinning his arms above his head, and lean down for a kiss, nipping his lip when you pull back.

“We both know you like being edged, so don’t lie to me, you’re in enough trouble already.”

He nods, “Yes ma’am.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

A/N: Sorry, this was supposed to be the birthday smex chapter but Lola stole the show. It will be the next chapter though.

Also, my part of the Midwest is supposed to get 11+ inches of snow in the next 24-36 hours. Maybe I’ll get a snow day and can write alllllll day long 🤞🏻

As always, I love to hear your thoughts.

Tagging (please let me know if you want me to take you off or add you!):

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@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

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@blindedbythelightt

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[annisassintchaska]

Carlos Sainz x Black!Reader: ReFound

Y/n was a sweetheart compared to the other girls Carlos had dated. Carlos and Y/n met at a party in Spain during his summer break, where they explored each other to the fullest. After the break had ended, Carlos went back to work with a new woman- Rebbeca; while Y/n moved on to a whole new man as she understood that their interacted wasn't supposed to last.

That was the plan until Y/n's new partner noticed that her body had been changing rapidly over the two months he's known her (even though they've never been intimate) and voiced his concern with a pregnancy test that her dared her to take after an argument broke out.

With shaking hands, Y/n snatched the test from him, walking off to the bathroom and closing the door. Taking the test and setting the stick down, she panicked at the thought of being pregnant by Carlos who moved on with a new woman; which would leave her to make a decision. That decision became clear the moment she picked up the positive stick, she would raise this child on her own.

Carlos on the other hand felt something was off with him as he would have random headaches, vomit for no reason and always feel tired. His mom had asked if there was a possibility that his girlfriend was pregnant, yet the test she took came back negative. Thankfully the symptoms stopped after a month and he was back to normal health.

Y/n had now reached her six month mark and was glowing. Her boyfriend had left after finding out that she was in fact pregnant with another man's child. Today she was being dragged to a Formaula 1 Grand Prix and unbeknownst to her. Carlos works there. Her friend had gotten the tickets and passes from work and decided to bring the pretty momma to be along with her.

Carlos had driven exceptionally well today and was on podium in second place as his team celebrated his victory. Coming down from the high, he went off to the post race interviews moving from one booth to the next until his eyes landed on a specific sight that had him in shock. The Y/n he left behind because he thought people would hate him for being 30 and dating a 20 years old, was here in the paddock pregnant with a child he knew for sure belongs to him.

Asking the journalist for a moment, he walked straight towards the woman, standing in front of her yet blocking her from the cameras, he stared into her eyes as she looked at him in shock. Hugging her as tight yet gently as possible, "Hermosa, is it mines?" He asked with a shaky voice. Y/n looked up at him with glossy eyes as she nodded her head yes. At that moment Carlos' heart felt full. The crowd went at the interaction yet no one was able to hear anything so they all went silent. Rebbeca came forward, rubbing Carlos' back as he sniffled into Y/n's shoulder.

Y/n looking up and seeing her became scared as she started crying while apologising to the Scots. "Please don't cry, it's okay. I understand that this happened before I got here so there's no hard feelings" Carlos heard his girlfriend trying to calm his frightened baby mama. Duties had officially called back and Carlos was allowed to give the girls on last hug before leaving Rebecca to lead Y/n into the garage.

While Carlos finished up his media duties, Rebecca took the time getting to know Y/n. So far she learnt that Y/n is a 20 years old Jamaican- Indian whose family abandoned her for not becoming a doctor or lawyer. "So how far along are you sweetheart?" Rebbeca asked sweetly as to not startle the scared woman. Surprising Y/n smiled for the first time "I'm 7 1/2 months. He's got 2 1/2 left in there" She said shyly making Rebbeca smile at her in admiration.

They finally found Y/n friend and led her to the garage where her first instinct was to stand between her and Rebbeca yet Y/n told her it was fine. They sat and chatted, Y/n showing photos of her earlier stages of pregnancy which had Rebbeca cooing and Y/n's friend laughing.

When Carlos, they retreated to his driver's room where Y/n explained everything to him and they all came to an agreement to co-parent, him rolling in tears when Y/n revealed that they were expecting a baby boy.

[onestepbackwards]

Love That Bites

I’ve been playing Symphony of the Night randomized for months, and rewatching some stuff from the anime, this series has had me in a choke hold. I’ve had a thing for Dracula for Y E A R S and the first season of the anime did not help (Even if I have my gripes with that adaption). Unfortunately, there is very little Dracula x reader content out there, and I can only reread it all so many times. o(TヘTo) I also started writing this a bit before the Dead Cells x Castlevania crossover was announced, so that only fueled my motivation to write this. This series is also going to ignore some stuff in canon like some stuff in Aria and Dawn of Sorrow. Canon is just a sandbox and I’m making a castle. I hope you all enjoy the start of this new series! This is part 1, and is mostly setting up the scene for the story. Hopefully there will be more to come! Apologies if this chapter is a little messy. (❁´◡`❁) Summary: When you decide to take a vacation to get away from a toxic home life, you just expect a few days of relaxation to revitalize yourself. However, you didn’t exactly plan on finding the castle belonging to your family’s arch nemesis. Especially when he should be dead for the next century... CW: Reader is a Belmont, Anxiety and anxiety attacks, brief mentions of past trauma, mentions of toxic home life, increasing stress, death mention, paranoia and confusion, you’re safe though don’t worry. Word Count: 6016 words! First: Here! Next: Link

-----

All you had wanted was a break.

You wanted, no, needed to get away for a week. Simply put, your home-life had become unbearable once again.

Normally, you at least tried to plan ahead when you wanted to take a break away from home, but things had been piling up. You knew if you didn’t get out, you were going to crash and burn again, and that was the last thing you needed as of late.

So early in the morning, before anyone else in your home had awoken, you packed a few small bags, and loaded up your vehicle.

You left a note on your kitchen counter for your relatives, and quickly left. If you thought too much about it, you’d start feeling guilty again, and stay behind.

Thankfully, the quiet car drive had been a welcome one, every mile further away from your home only seemed to lift the stress off of you little by little.

It took a while to get to your destination, but a few hours were nothing to you, considering your profession.

When you have to go on hunts across the country, and occasionally around the world, you learn to get used to the long travel time.

The trip to your current destination had always been worth it, though.

It was a small cabin out in the countryside. Your family had purchased some of the land a few generations ago, and it was a sort of vacation spot, at least until recent years.

Not many family members knew about the property anymore. Your late mother had been one of the few that knew about it, and had still used it. When she was alive, she took you often as a kid to get a break from your training.

You had nothing but fond memories of the place.

The little cabin and surrounding wildlife had become more than just a place with fond memories as of late. It had also become a safe haven.

When things got rough at home, it became a habit to take off to said little safe haven.

So here you were.

The cabin was the same as you had left it, not that it ever changed.

You walked through the overgrowth on the porch, and pushed through the front door. The inside was just as old and dusty as you remembered leaving it a few months ago.

Despite the layer of dust, it still looked well kept and comfortable. Just like you liked it.

Lugging your bags through the entry, you let out a sigh as you made your way through the small cottage. When you entered the living area, you unenthusiastically dropped your bags to the floor, and fell onto the couch with a loud sigh.

You didn’t do anything for a while, simply staring at the ceiling as you sat, your thoughts fast, but your head feeling empty. Overwhelmed, but dissociative.

It was like this every time you came here, but you could finally breathe.

No yelling, no arguing, no working your days away with chores at a house. If you were lucky, there wouldn’t even be hunting involved. Just pure, unbothered peace.

A scoff left your mouth at the thought.

“Some Belmont I am…” You muttered to yourself. What Belmont doesn’t like going hunting? Your aunts and uncles probably still jump at the chance to do so, and your step family would already be out the door with weapons in hand.

You didn’t hate hunting. But nowadays, you were beginning to dread doing it.

Either you were hunting all the time, especially on trips that were long and hard on you, or you were at home, forced to play housekeeper half the time. Anytime there was a hint of a possibility of a monster near your city, your step family took the job. They essentially barred you from doing anything nearby, only having you do the tedious jobs.

As much as you liked traveling, you didn’t like doing it for a hunt that might be a bust half the time. When you arrived at your destination, either the monster was long gone, never existed, or was already killed by a local hunter instead.

It’s become a drain on your personal finances, and a drain on your energy. Especially since you were always ‘expected’ to come right back home. Didn't matter if you were an adult, they needed their precious servant back.

“What a joke…” You huffed, before closing your eyes.

Attempting to relax, you took in the scent of the area, listening to the slight breeze and wildlife from outside.

There was so much going on in your head, but the cabin was already helping, you could tell. Despite your thoughts, your body was already beginning to lose tension.

This was just what you needed.

You waited a few more minutes, taking everything in, before you got to work. Getting up, you grabbed your few bags, and hauled them off into a bedroom. You dropped them on the bed, and moved to the closet, looking for something specific you had left behind years ago.

Opening the closet, you pulled out an old backpack, and brought it to your bed. With memorized ease, you opened your bags, and tossed a few things in.

It’s not like you’d need a lot for a hike. Just a few snacks, some water, and a few weapons just to be safe.

You weren’t exactly afraid of monsters showing up, but being who you were, you couldn't afford to be too careful.

Chances were you’d be fine. Monsters were incredibly rare on this stretch of land, and the wildlife tended to keep to itself.

You paused though when you gripped The Vampire Killer. The whip that had been in your family for centuries.

Would you really need this for a hike to clear your head…?

You stared at it for a moment, battling with yourself in your head. You took it just about everywhere. Not so much for hunting, but so it wouldn’t end up in anyone else's hands.

Eventually, you came to a decision, and placed the whip to the side. The whip was safe here at the cabin, and you had several weapons. It would be fine. You would be fine.

With your mind made, you finished packing your backpack, and slung it over your shoulder, before heading for the front door of the cabin.

The door locked shut behind you, and you set out in a random direction. It was still early in the day, just around noon, you figured you could go out by the mountains. You raised a hand up to the sky, wincing at the light.

“The shade should be perfect to come back this way by 5….” you mumbled, and got to walking.

You wouldn’t be out longer than a few hours. By the time you got back, you could make something light to eat, and catch up on some reading, if you were lucky.

Wandering around, you followed a few paths, before turning around the base of a smaller mountain. You knew the area well, but still enjoyed venturing out and exploring.

Especially as of late, the beauty and nature of the area was an amazing way to clear your head and de-stress.

The walk was nice, and you swore you remember a lake being in the area. If you could find it once again, it would be the perfect place for a picnic.

It had only been an hour of walking when you turned the corner of the base of the mountain, where you normally would have been able to see the lake.

Something felt a little bit off, though. Despite the weather forecast being clear for the day, the sky seemed to be clouding up the further you walked. Then the further you walked, the more on edge you felt. It was as if you were somewhere you weren’t supposed to be.

However, instead of a beautiful lake surrounded by a forest and mountain range, you were met with a sight that made your stomach drop.

Out across the edge of the lake, just past the tree line, was a humongous castle. One you distinctly remember not being there in the first place.

Lightning occasionally flashed around it, and you could hear the thunder in the distance. Despite how dreadful the dark clouds looked above it, the weather almost seemed deadly calm. It faintly reminded you of the eye of a storm.

You felt sweat beginning to form all over you, and you swallowed thickly as you stared at the ominous structure. Your hands shook, and you were finding it hard to stand.

Dracula’s Castle.

There was no doubt about it. You had learned about this castle your whole childhood, and understood what its presence meant.

Sitting down on the grass beneath you, you took a shaky breath. If you stood any longer, you were worried you would faint.

How was this possible? Dracula hadn’t been vanquished for that long…. Right before you had been born, if you remember correctly.

Has someone resurrected him? Or was someone trying to take his power? You had heard of both scenarios happening, and you weren’t sure which one you wanted to be true.

Hell, you knew it was possible for Dracula to be revived just a few years after being defeated, if someone powerful enough wanted to.

But if you were being honest… You hadn’t expected Dracula to be back in your lifetime, or at least in your youth. You had somewhat hoped it wouldn’t be your problem.

You didn’t exactly want the fate of the world resting on your shoulders.

It had been something you had feared since you learned the truth of your lineage. That Dracula may very well come back, and you, or your future kids may need to step up and defeat him. That you might have to be the one to save the world from destruction.

Licking your lips, you tightly gripped a strap from your backpack till your knuckles went white, and looked up at the sky.

“Hey God? Why me?” you asked, genuinely serious.

As expected, you received no answer, just another flash of lightning and clap of thunder in the distance.

Your eyes then landed back on the castle, and you let out a nervous sigh.

You knew you needed to check it out, despite the feeling of dread in your gut.

As you got up though, a sudden thought struck the back of your mind.

The Vampire Killer was back at your cabin, almost an hour away.

Groaning loudly, you couldn’t help but smack your face in frustration.

“Of course! The one time, the one time-! Of all times to have decided not to take the whip with me!” You cursed, frustration building in your chest alongside the anxiety.

Yeah, you could go back to the cabin and go grab it, but that would be wasting possible precious time.

“Okay… So, it’s not the end of the world… Yet… People have defeated Dracula before without the Vampire Killer. Not a big deal.”

It was a big deal, to you at least. This was huge. Dracula could be planning to attack humanity at any moment, and the best weapon against him was sitting snugly on your pillow back at your cabin.

You sighed.

Still, as you watched the castle in the distance, you couldn’t help but notice something odd.

You didn’t see any monsters. Hell, you didn’t see any bodies outside the front of the gate. Didn’t Dracula have monsters all over his castle, inside and out? Not to mention all the stories you had heard, involving impaled corpses that tended to sit outside the castle every other resurrection.

It was quiet.

No monsters. No bodies. No Dracula.

It made you feel sick, like you were waiting for something to attack you from just around the corner.

But the attack had yet to come.

You weighed in your options. Could you really just leave and go back to the cabin? How were you so sure nothing was watching you right now? What if something followed you back, and found your cabin?

Another thought suddenly hit you like a freight train.

Just how long had Dracula’s castle been here?

It has been over a year since you last checked out this lake. The castle was in the perfect place to remain hidden from view at the cabin, being behind a mountain. The castle could have been here this whole time, just an hour away from you, and you were never the wiser.

The very thought sent chills throughout your body. Just how close to death had you been this whole time?

You felt like you were going to hurl.

As much as you want to leave, and puke from the overwhelming emotions, you force yourself to stand your ground.

You had to investigate.

It wasn’t up for debate. As much as you would like to throw excuse after excuse until it was nighttime, you did not have that luxury.

You came to a decision.

The most important thing you could do right now is head into the castle and check things out. You had some weapons on you, so it wasn’t like you were going in defenseless.

If push comes to shove, you could always make a hasty retreat, and head back over to the cabin. There you could grab The Vampire Killer, and return after regaining your strength.

Was it the best plan? No. But right now, any plan was better than nothing.

A thought passed through your mind as you took a step forward.

Should you call for backup?

You had your father and step brothers, and even your uncle and aunt. Quick, you pulled your phone out, only to sigh in frustration.

“No service. Figures.”

You should have guessed. There was just barely usable service at the cabin, why would there be any out here in the wilderness?

Looks like it was all you. No help was coming for you.

If you died… You doubted help would come for you as well. Your family would probably only come looking for your equipment, if anything. The chances of them looking for you, especially here at this lake, were slim. There wasn’t a question in your mind that they would miss the castle.

Just like you had for who knows how long.

Gripping your phone for a moment, you sighed, before shoving it back in your pocket.

Calling was no use. It really was just you against the forces of evil.

“So much for an uneventful, relaxing trip…” You mumbled, and reached into your bag. Pulling out a dagger, you gripped in your hand for a few moments, before finally heading towards the castle.

The walk towards the looming castle wasn’t as long as you had hoped it to be. All the while, it also felt like it lasted an eternity.

Must have been the impending doom and anxiety, which only increased with each step you took.

Why hadn’t you come across any enemies? So far, just like you had seen from afar, there were no monsters.

Even as you quickly approached the gate, you saw no adversaries. No undead armies. No wolf men ready to tear you to shreds.

Just an old, rusted looking gate.

You couldn’t help but wonder, what was Dracula’s game? In nearly every journal you’ve read with family members in the past hunting him down, his castle is filled with enemies of all sorts. Even at the gate, monsters are usually ready to attack.

Yet, it was quiet.

For a few moments, you could only stare. It was now or never, and you couldn’t exactly ignore the fate of the world.

Gently pushing at the massive iron looking gate, you were surprised at how easy the door gave way. It slowly opened with a loud squeak of the hinges, stopping just a few feet forward, waiting for more force to push it forward.

You were a bit dumbstruck.

Was it really that easy? You weren’t going to lie, when you approached the gate, you assumed you may have to find another way in, or some obtuse way of opening it.

Peeking your head in, your eyes widened at just how… empty the courtyard was.

There were a surprising number of plants and trees, sure, but other than that? The only sign of movement there was, was the plants moving from the wind.

It was ominous. The lack of any life, or undead rather, made your hair stand on end.

A low rumble of thunder went off above you, and you looked up at the dark sky. Despite being early in the afternoon, it felt so late with the clouds surrounding the area like this.

It was fitting, you supposed.

Steeling your nerves, you pushed the door open further, and stepped into the courtyard. Each step had you on edge, with you anticipating an attack that never seemed to come.

That didn’t stop you from keeping an eye out though.

Approaching the door to the castle was more or less the same as the gate. Though it wasn’t any less daunting. The doors towered over you all the same, and did nothing to quell your nerves.

“...Should I knock?” You mumbled to yourself, before shaking your head.

“Stupid… It’s a Vampire Lord’s castle, who of which I’m supposed to vanquish. ‘Should I knock…’ what a dumb question.” you grumbled to yourself. Though at this point, it felt like you were stalling.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open, fully expecting an attack.

But once again, you were completely surprised to see an empty entry hall.

“...Now this is definitely weird.” You mumbled, carefully eyeing the long, dimly lit hall.

You pushed past the door, and let out a small squeak as it shut behind you. The grip you had on your dagger tightened, and you shuddered at how the temperature seemed to drop.

It was cold. Unnaturally cold.

The air was stagnant, and hardly cold itself, but something about the area was nearly sapping your warmth. Was it your nerves? Or just some aspect of the castle being supernatural?

Perhaps it was the strange nerve wracking loneliness that seemed to echo with each step down the hall?

Either way, something was not right about the castle, and it wasn’t just the fact it was a being of Chaos.

It was the fact that the further you walked in, you were encountering nothing.

The courtyard and entry all weren’t the only empty areas. The large open room you entered after that had also been empty, along with the hallway and stairway after that.

Not a monster in sight.

There wasn’t even any sign of life in this place. Sure, you hadn’t encountered anything yet, but every room you entered, every hall you cleared…

It was as if nothing was here in the castle.

You weren’t going to lie. You were starting to have doubts about this being Dracula’s castle.

But at the same time, there wasn’t any explanation for this place otherwise.

Not to mention, the air in this place wasn’t normal. There was an underlying power in the air. The same kind that made your hair stand on end. The same kind that made the air feel colder than what it was.

What castle could feel this way, besides Castlevania?

“Still… none of this makes any sense…” you mumbled to yourself as you cleared another empty room. At this point, you were both extremely nervous, and incredibly frustrated.

You had combed through several parts of the castle at this point. It was getting late, and you were getting nowhere. Already you had been through what looked like an art gallery, passed by a library, and pressed on through a giant dining hall.

As you neared another set of stairs, you could only run a hand through your hair in irritation and stress.

Despite how much ground you have covered, you found no sign of this place being lived in. You only had so much daylight left, and you were beginning to feel like you were investigating a weird, lost cause.

Still, you persevered. If there was a throne room, you at least wanted to check it out. If you didn’t find anything, you would come back another day more thoroughly prepared.

And if you found something? Well…

You could hope for the best. Maybe if Dracula is there, he would be weak? It would make sense, given the lack of life and monsters in the castle. If he was weak, you wouldn’t have to worry about not having your whip, you hoped.

If not… Well, you could run away. Despite the lack of weapons on you, you still had a few tricks up your sleeve. You didn’t live this long as a monster hunter without learning a few ways to give yourself a back door for a fast escape.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too hard to figure out where the throne room was. It tended to be high up in the castle in nearly every iteration your ancestors talked about in journals.

Still, as you came across a final staircase leading up to a separate tower of the castle, you couldn’t help but be more on edge than ever before. The clouds circled above you, occasionally cracking off lightning and thunder uncomfortably close by.

“It really feels like I’m about to be in some final showdown from a movie…” You mumbled as you approached the door, your dread pooling in your gut.

However, much like the growing trend of this castle, you noticed something odd.

The door to the throne room was open, and creaked on its hinges. It was as if it was half hazardly pushed away by someone running out the room.

You briefly wondered if that was a bad sign or not.

Going against the little voice in your head telling you to turn back, you pushed past the door and walked in.

The first thing you took note of, despite the poor lighting from outside, you could see just how huge the room was. You could easily imagine it being big enough for a battle, or a council meeting.

Then there were the giant windows that occasionally lit up the room whenever lightning strikes. Some were even open, clacking open and closed from the wind outside, said wind occasionally pushing the curtains back every so often.

It certainly added to the creepy atmosphere.

Finally, there were the two most glaringly obvious parts of the throne room. The giant throne on top of a set of stairs, and what looked to be a statue kneeling in front of it.

You could only stare in silence. The tension you felt in the air was so thick, you felt it could snap at any moment like a stretched out rubber band.

Your curiosity pushed over your fear, and you found yourself walking forward. Each footstep echoing through the chamber, the sounds of your steps bouncing off the walls.

Coming to a stop a few feet away from the throne and the statue, you couldn’t help but feel… odd at the sight. A mixture of fear, dread, curiosity and intrigue turned in your gut as you stared down the statue.

It was Dracula.

Or at least… You thought it was Dracula.

The statue was big, despite the figure kneeling on one knee in what looked like pain or exhaustion. A hand gripping his gut, while another reached forward, clawed fingers pointing towards you. A cloak seemed to wrap around his body, but it hardly hid his large form.

The head was… a lot of things.

His face was hauntingly beautiful, much like you had come to expect from vampires. What was his hair seemed to beautifully frame his face, with his mustache and beard only adding to the charm.

However, under the beauty, you could see traces of what he really was. A monster.

Despite his handsome features, his face was contorted in what looked like a pained snarl. His fangs were bursting forth, large and ready to pierce.

And his eyes… His eyes were wide open, the whites a darker shade than the iris, which only added to his supernatural and inhuman look.

The room was silent, and you felt your blood run cold, despite the sweat on your skin.

It was Dracula, no doubt about it, but…

Why was he a statue?

Tentatively, you took a few steps forward, but still kept your distance.

You studied the statue a bit more, rounding it cautiously. After a few moments, you carefully stepped forward, and poked the shoulder, before jumping backwards.

Pure stone.

Your hands fell to your sides. It really was just a statue.

“Unbelievable.” You mumbled, confusion and disbelief clear in your voice.

Just what was going on? The castle was here, so in theory, so should Dracula. Not a statue of the guy.

“Unless…” You murmured, putting a hand along your chin in thought.

Dracula being turned to stone somehow… Perhaps that was the reason the castle was like this?

It made sense, the more you thought about it.

“It’s as if the whole castle is asleep…”

If Dracula was technically alive, but out of commission, then it would make sense. Though if you were being honest with yourself, you were still surprised you weren’t seeing some of his more powerful supporters. Surely you would have at least seen Death by now?

The deity was loyal to its master, appearing even when Dracula had not always been in control. So where was Death, or any other powerful monsters that no doubt would support the Lord?

Perhaps being petrified like this, also cut ties with his presence to those powerful monsters? He simply seemed asleep to them, or not fully revived. If he wasn’t fully around, or at least enough for any of his powerful generals to sense him, they simply did not know he was here.

Other than that, it was the only explanation you had.

It still made you nervous and uncomfortable though.

You continued to eye the statue. Was Dracula dead, or was he aware? What had happened to lead to this?

Thinking hard, you tried to remember everything your mother had told you about the last time Dracula had appeared. It was a long time ago, and your mother had only heard about what had happened from another family member.

Didn’t she mention that the Belmont who defeated Dracula last say something about a curse?

You cursed your poor memory, which had been worsening with your own health as of late. Shaking your head with a sigh, your frown deepened.

Still, even if you didn’t know all the details, this could easily have something to do with said curse you were briefly told about all those years ago.

Biting your lip, you placed your hands on your hips, unsure what to do, or where to go from here.

Obviously no one was in danger at the moment, even if you still felt on edge. Dracula was very much contained here in the castle.

But that left you with a bunch of different thoughts rushing through your mind.

You couldn’t really ask for a better spot for the castle to be, if you were being honest. It was hidden, right along private property. Chances of civilians finding it were slim. The less innocent lives you had to worry about, even if it was idiots trespassing, the better.

Then there was how to deal with the problem at hand. What do you do with the statue and the castle? You couldn’t just leave Dracula here could you?

“If I had only brought the Vampire Killer…” You mumbled under your breath, nails digging into your palms.

The whip was ancient, but incredibly powerful. It was strong enough to break down stone. You could finish the job tonight, if you wanted to make the trek…

But would that be wise?

…Did you even have much of a choice?

It’s not like you can actually do anything right now, anyway. Your dagger and other weapons can’t cut through stone. Not like your whip could. You would be here for hours.

You let out a sigh and rubbed your temples, exhaustion creeping up on you. Sure, you hadn’t fought anything, but this whole ordeal was adding onto your already existing stress.

Running a hand through your hair, and looking out a nearby window, another thought ran through your mind.

What if you revived him by destroying the stone? Even if he was cursed, you weren’t aware of the specifics, and you didn’t want to be the one to accidentally doom the world by trying to ‘save’ it.

Feeling your hair stand on end again, you quickly glanced back at the statue. Even if he was on his knees, he was still level height with you.

And it felt like he was looking right at you.

The thought made you very anxious. Was he alive? Or even aware you were standing right in front of him? A Belmont, debating on how to end his life?

Suddenly, the very thought made your stomach sour.

“I… Need to go. I need to leave.” You said, finally making a decision. You needed to get away from here.

You were not equipped to handle this.

A fight to save the world? Sure, you could improvise.

But whatever was happening here? No. No way.

Despite your conscious telling you to stay and deal with the problem, you tentatively took a step backwards. Then another. And another.

Your eyes stayed on the statue until you reached the door, and you quickly turned and left, shutting the large door behind you.

It didn’t take you long to hightail it outta of the castle. The main layout you had passed was burned in your mind, and made it easier to run through.

Though it wasn’t until you were out of the castle, did you feel like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The moment you passed through those large, ominous doors and into the courtyard, it was as if you could breathe again.

You didn’t wait to catch your breath.

Running through the courtyard, you sprinted out past the rusted gate, not stopping until you were long past the lake that sat in front of the castle.

Finally, when you reached the spot where you had first noticed the castle, you came to an abrupt halt. Panting, you turned around, and eyed the ominous structure.

It was late now, the sun had been setting for a while. However, that didn’t hide the castle from your sight. The dark clouds still hovered above, with lightning and thunder striking every so often.

You still couldn’t believe it. Dracula’s castle was here, for who knows how long.

And you were going to have to destroy it somehow.

“Lucky me…” You mumbled.

Taking one last look, you anxiously made your way back to your cabin.

The walk back, which normally would have been peaceful and relaxing, was nothing but a stressful venture for you. Sure, the castle seemed empty, and you could no longer sense it the further you walked. However, that didn’t mean you were safe.

For all you knew, you were being followed by an army of hell, just waiting to ambush you.

That… didn’t really put you at ease, even as you approached your cabin.

Cautiously, you opened the door. With your weapon ready, you made a quick search of your small home.

Thankfully, no one but you seemed to be here. You weren’t sure if that relieved you, or made your anxiety worse.

You decided to take it as a blessing.

Still, you didn’t rest. It was too late to drive back, nor did you want to just leave, knowing the castle was right there, just an hour away by foot.

Biting your lip, you eyed the Vampire Killer, which was still sitting innocently on your bed. You could practically hear it in your mind to pick it up and head back to the castle. ‘Use me! Use me! Finish the job!’

As much as you wanted to, you felt a sick feeling in your stomach. Something wasn’t right, and you knew it. You just needed to figure out what it was, before you made any hasty decisions.

One wrong move, and you could not only revive your family’s immortal enemy, but also potentially doom the world if you fail at killing him. This was something where you had to tread lightly, lest you make a horrible, world ending decision.

No pressure.

You stood next to the bed for a few minutes. It felt as if your mind was racing, but you felt unable to think at all.

With a sigh, you made up your mind. Grabbing your whip and a bag, you headed to the backdoor. You wouldn’t be hunting Dracula tonight, no, but you still had to ensure your safety.

Starting with some protective measures.

Thankfully, throughout the generations, your family came up with many different ways to ward off monsters and vampires from properties. If you wanted any sleep tonight, you would have to put some of these in place, at least for your peace of mind. It wasn’t something that would take too long, but better safe than sorry.

Even if you hadn’t seen a single monster, you weren’t going to risk your life by making assumptions. It was small mistakes that got hunters killed, and you weren’t going to join their numbers.

Setting up a few traps and enchantments took longer than you would have liked, but you weren’t going to take any chances. Your cabin already had some traps in place, but renewing everything wasn’t going to hurt anyone, let alone you.

When you finally sat down on your bed, you rolled onto your back, and blankly stared at your ceiling. The Vampire Killer in your hand tightly.

“What now?” you asked yourself.

The answer seemed simple. Sleep, wake up, and take care of the problem.

It wasn’t that simple though. You already had fought yourself about this for hours. Did you really need to now, right before bed?

You turned your head to the side, seeing your phone charging on your nightstand.

“I could call for assistance…” you said, toying with the idea in your head. But did you really want to invite that mess here? With how reckless your family at home was, you didn’t think it was a good idea.

Then there was the fact they would find this place. Your little sanctuary away from them. They would never give you peace if they found this place. In fact, you were sure your father would tear it down, or claim it was his, since he was the beneficiary after your mother passed.

They would never let you have anything like this. You knew they already had tried multiple times to find where you go when you disappear, you weren’t going to give them that luxury.

Most of all, you weren’t going to give them the last thing left untouched that had been your mother’s.

You could call your other family, such as your uncle, but you shot idea that down. You hadn’t really talked to your aunt or uncle in years since your father took over everything. For all you knew, their numbers had been changed again. As much as they’d probably like to know what was going on, you felt a bitterness in your gut.

As much as you loved your aunt and uncle, they hadn’t so much bothered calling or texting you these past few years. Why would they help you now? Maybe for some glory? ‘To keep humanity safe?’ When they haven’t even helped out family?

You snorted. No thanks.

Besides, it would no doubt take them hours to get here, and they’d probably tell your father about this place against your wishes. Something about wanting all ‘Belmonts’ on deck. Bah.

Turning onto your side, you reached over and turned the lamp on your side table off.

You could think more on this tomorrow.

[sl-vega]

✧Sticking to the Script✧-10

⋆｡°✩ 10-action!

"Take five everyone!" you heard Furina yell as you saw her walk by with an ice pack covering her head. Chiori quickly followed her escorting her out of the room.

"What happened?" you asked Lyney, who was helping you run lines. "Some freshman accidentally dropped a sword prop on her head. Thankfully it was one of the lighter ones." he replied.

You watched Furina hold back tears as she left the room, she didn't want to let a minor injury get in the way of the play. "The show must go on!" as per usual.

"So now that we have a break, do you wanna talk about that?" he asked, gesturing to your ring. He grabbed your wrist and inspected the piece of jewelry. "Archons, that's one hell of a ring." he was still admiring the intricate design, observing the way the gems shone in the light.

You giggled, "Yeah, I know." you caught yourself admiring the ring more times than you'd like to admit. "Must've cost your boyfriend a fortune." Lyney joked. "Trust me, it did." you responded.

"How much?"

"$30,000." you winced, not wanting to be too loud, you weren't risking getting robbed.

"30K?!" Lyney shouted, shocked. The two of you got some questioning looks from the other students, before quickly resuming their personal converstions.

"30K?!" Lyney repeated, whisper-shouting. You nodded. "Well it was more like 20k-25k, Xingqiu wasn't sure of the price." you explained fiddling with the piece of jewelry. Lyney's mouth was wide open. "It was more of a present from his dad than from him though." you added.

"Wait-how long have you two known each other?"

"Two and a half weeks..."

Lyney looked at you, his mouth agape.

"Where did you find this guy? He's smart, rich, AND he treats you really well? And he's managed to make sure you know all that in less than a month?" Lyney asked, bombarding you with questions that seemed more like statements.

You chuckled, blushing. "Yeah, he's pretty great." you were grinning like a fool. You forgot that Xingqiu wasn't actually your boyfriend for a moment.

Even if we aren't together-together, I can still like him as a friend. Can't I? You thought to yourself

"Attention everyone!" the whole crew turned to Chiori who returned to the auditorium. "Furina just needs to rest for a bit, so she put me in charge of you all. We're going to do a brief run through of the prologue, then skip over to Act 1, Scene 5." she explained. Everyone quickly moved to their places on stage.

You and Lyney sat in the front row together watching the chorus recite the prologue together. You glanced at your script a couple times, skimming over your lines.

"So how does Xingqiu feel about this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Us playing a couple on stage. He does know we have to get pretty touchy with each other right?" Lyney asked. You told him that Xingqiu was a great guy, but he wanted to make sure if there were any boundaries he shouldn't cross.

"He hasn't brought it up with me, plus he isn't the jealous type, so we should be fine." you explained. Another thing that reminded you about your actual relationship with Xingqiu. He wasn't your actual boyfriend so he didn't have a reason to be jealous of Lyney.

The prologue finished, Chiori called you and Lyney up to the stage.

This was just another part you needed to play

additional notes:

-yes that furina joke was intentional

-not gonna spoil anything for the canon game

-but if yk yk

-ALSO DOUBLE UPDATE LET'S GO

-not much else that i wanna say abt this chapter

-i'm proud of it

-y'all are gonna get some possessive xingqiu next chapter >:3

-be prepared

masterlist

<prev ll next>

✧Sticking to the Script✧

Pairing: Xingqiu x FEM! Reader

Genre: fake dating, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst (?), high school smau, modern smau

⋆｡°✩-Synopsis: Xingqiu just got entered into a special writing contest, the type that's invite only, the theme this year is love, the only problem is that he has zero romantic experience. but he really wants to prove himself as a writer. meanwhile, you just found out that your boyfriend cheated on you, and you need to show him that you're 100% over him, the only problem is that there's no way you can get an actual boyfriend that quickly. clearly, the solution to both of your issues is to fake date each other. it shouldn't be hard for an actor such as yourself, all you need to do is stick to the script.

(OPEN) Taglist: @freyao7, @thatoneswordgirl, @sn1perz, @latay7, @willowcandletree, @nmriki0, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @httpsrenren, @cupid-spams, @aixaingela, @kaitfae, @luvkvni, @danhenglovebot

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Hi I really love your save everyone au and it has me hyper fixated on it for a week now! My personal question is does Angel ever have nightmares about the factory and their ptsd so badly that they actually wake up and start crying? How would the toys react? Also, how would the toys react if they found out Angel had any self harming coping mechanisms? (Sorry if that is too sensitive, I actually have self harmed myself when I felt like my existence was just making everyone around me miserable. And a I was going through a lot of stress at the time. I am actually 1 month clean now which I am super proud of. I hope you have a wonderful day and I appreciate you reading and potentially responding to my ask :DDDDDD

You got hyperfixated?! Oh my God 🥺💝😭!!!! I'm so glad you have been enjoying it, please don't be afrad to send me more asks and interact with my posts! I saw your comment on the AO3 fanfic and it made my day!

BEFORE WE START THIS, I just want to let you know that I'm so proud of you for going one entire month clean!!!!! YOU CAN DO THIS!!!! The answer will be under the cut just for the safety of other people reading this, so let's go!

In the past, when my own trauma was still super fresh and I was alone, I unfortunately also had problems relating to self-harm and bad coping mechanisms. It was bad!!!! I have been clean for some time as well, thankfully, but I have been projecting some of that trauma juice(tm) over the toys, Prototype and Angel. And Angel, oh, dear...

I imagine they get some Awful nightmares. They had some during the past decade, but Angel thought of them more as stress dreams than "proper" nightmares related to their PTSD from their coworkers going missing. After the rescue, however, they do get actual nightmares related to their new trauma. They involve the toys being captured and/or taken away from Angel, Angel failing to save them, and the toys they couldn't save staring at them and asking them why didn't they come to the factory during those 10 long, long years. I think it's a matter of time until Angel can't prevent themself from waking up when another toy is already awake and breaking down in tears. Angel would try putting on a brave face, smiling softly as they always do and trying to help the toy to go back to sleep, but it doesn't work.

I think that the first one to see Angel like this is Dogday. Angel wakes up trying to reach to something - or rather, someone -, thinking for a moment their kids were taken away from them. Dogday asks them what's up, Angel tries to brush it off, but they're already crying at this point before Dogday gives them a hug.

When Angel eventually wakes up (Dogday is still good at luring others to sleep, despite all the horrors), they apologize to Dogday, but the big pup is already on high alert for what Angel has next. He tells Poppy, Mommy Long Legs, Delight and Catnap about it so everyone can make a plan on how to comfort Angel. They inevitably wake up in tears again some days later, but this time Dogday isn't the only one awake. I think that the older toys all hug Angel, because they know what it's like to be like this and they want to give Angel some of the kindness they gave to them. Angel ends up breaking down in tears before thanking the group.

During the decade post-HoJ, Angel did develop some self-harm habits. They have some scars they gave themself, and one really nasty one on their belly area from the time they got themself drunk and fell down on some glass. After that, Angel's family begged them to go to therapy. They still drink and still like drinking, but they never got to the point they were before. They also quit self-harm and have been doing clean for around 6 years before returning to the factory.

After the rescue, I think Angel's bad habits creep out again with drinking, some smoking and them overworking themself to take care of the toys. This time they're able to do a work-around their smoking and drinking problems before they could get as bad as before, but it's the toys and the Prototype who have to force Angel to sit down before scolding them with phrases like "how are you supposed to be the parent if you don't rest??? Uh???? UHHH????"

Angel's skin also gets really bad whenever they're stressed - the problem started from their first big trauma -, and post-rescue it sometimes comes back. Angel is more annoyed than worried at this point in time, thankfully.

I think Prototype is the first to take notice of Angel's scars. It's when Angel goes to "visit" him to drink a tiny bit and talk about the kids. It's summer, and Angel takes off their shirt and is only with a pair of baggy shorts + a binder Crafty made for them. The conversation is going as normal as it could be, when all of a sudden Proto just GRABS Angel's arm and asks them about the scars. Angel sighs. "These are old", Prototype takes notice. "Far too old and clean".

"You know why, don't you?", Angel asks. "I did those myself".

"Why?"

There's a pause. Angel sighs. "Because that's everything that helped me deal with the pain of losing all of my coworkers", they confess, not wanting to sound accusatory, not wanting to feel like a coward for doing that instead of running back to the factory (but again, Angel was never a coward. It's the trauma reshaping their own view of themself). "I got better. I don't do this anymore, the kids aren't at risk of my own lack of care for myself".

Prototype is silent for a moment. "I did no ask because of the children. I asked because of you".

Then, he points at his own body, both at the flesh and the wires and metal that made him himself. And although the hut's lights aren't the strongest, Angel can see some marks.

"I was often careless on purpose", Proto confesses. "Focusing on the physical pain helped more than remembering the children I doomed due to my own egoism. Protecting the few I could was all that mattered. I did not care about this body. Sometimes, I still don't".

Angel nods. They both understand what it is like. The human then drinks from their bottle of water, staring at nothing.

"It did get better for me", they tell the Prototype. "Been clean for seven years at this point. One day your scars will be old, too".

Prototype, too, drinks water. "You give me no option but to believe in your words, Angel".

"Good", they nod. "Your only way is up. Never down".

"Or, at least, never as down as we both were in the past".

That's when the human smiles. "That, too".

I can imagine one day during the summer where the family is playing with water guns and throwing water balloons at each other when a toy (maybe Bobby, Poppy, Catnap or even Bunzo) points at one of Angel's scars, asking them if they got that at the factory, and Angel takes one look at the almost-gone cut before replying that it wasn't because of the family's rescue, but something they did to themself post losing their coworkers. "I wasn't feeling well", they explain. "And doing that helped me deal with the pain, even though it hurt me. But I got better. I don't hurt myself anymore".

"Because you have us?", Bunzo asks, innocently.

"Not just that, bunny", they reply, petting him on the head. "I asked people for help and went to a nice doctor, so they could help me. And they did. It's been seven years since I last hurt myself".

"Oh...", and then Delight, covered in water, takes notice of the scar and explanation. She politely touches Angel's arms, before petting them.

"It healed very well", she notes.

"I know, right? I never told it would get this good, but it did. And now I guess it'll be your turn as well", and Angel then grabs a water gun and SPLASHED Delight, causing her to laugh and attack them back.

Later on, when Angel is helping Kissy try up, they feel Catnap headbonking their back. The feline licks Angel's arm before sitting next to them, just like how Dogday himself playfully did that just some hours before, in order to "kiss it better". Angel thanks Catnap, of course, before petting him.

They're glad for having them.

[reki-of-the-valley]

Summer Time (Family) Madness

lmao it's been like 6 months since the last time the last revision. And like 2 and a half years since the end of this fic. But alas. At least I'm still working on the revisions. So here's an updated chapter 6!

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AO3 | Original Chapter 1  | Original Chapter 2 | Original Chapter 3 | Original Chapter 4 | Original Chapter 5 | Original Chapter 6

It wasn’t uncommon to find Langa hidden under the counter at DopeSketch. Normally, it was to avoid having to interact with any of the customers; Reki was just naturally so much better at the whole customer service part of their shared retail job. Now, however, Langa found himself more often than not with a book on his lap as he sat cross-legged on the floor. Now, he spent his shifts groaning about the homework that was assigned on summer break of all times. 

Thankfully though, DopeSketch really wasn’t the busiest shop in town. Langa could get away with his time wasted watching videos instead of reading his novel, or all his lost minutes staring at the same math equation. Barely anyone entered the little shop, and those who did never stuck around for more than a few minutes, browsing the few shelves of skateboarding equipment. So, during the shifts where Langa remained cooped up in the small shop, watching the sun beat down on the smiling people in the streets, he got to do homework. If he had to explain to someone what he was being paid to do, the most honest answer he could muster was that his paycheck covered the cost of someone playing the role of a babysitter for a store that most definitely would not up and run away. Or maybe he was being paid to keep his grades up since he had nothing better to do than work on his assignments.

It was a miracle Oka still gave him shared shifts with Reki. It didn’t take a genius to know that employing two best friends was not the ideal recipe for productivity, but maybe the man knew how lonely it could get in the shop. Maybe that was why he let the boys keep each other company during their long shifts. And that was what they did; even if they silently did their own separate thing, at least they had each other. As long as they were together, everything would be okay. As long as they had one another, the day wouldn’t feel eternal. And sometimes, a calm and silent afternoon was exactly what they needed. 

Langa groaned as he leaned back against the counter, tipping his head back in annoyance. He had tried, he had really tried to get a head start on his summer schoolwork. He had really tried to power through his assigned readings as fast of possible. He had tried to get it over with as soon as possible, but that determination was too good to be true. When it came to actually doing it, it proved itself much harder than anticipated. And Langa hadn’t been proud to admit that his reading skills could almost rival his handwriting. 

“I don’t get it.” His eyes fell shut as another sign fell from his lips. “Why do we need literature? What’s the use of old books no one cares about? Even in English, I sucked at it. I just…” The world reappeared before him, brighter than he remembered it to be just a few seconds ago. “I don’t get it! And I just don’t care!” 

A pen was clicked a few times as Reki hummed to himself. He must have been sketching in the margins of his notebook instead of doing the math problems he had said he would be doing. He had to have been; the pen strokes were far too methodical and repetitive to be that of writing. 

“I don’t know, man. Something about culture and it’s important we know about our past.” A smile broke across Langa’s face as he peeked out from under the counter just as Reki surrounded the last part of his statement with air quotes. “But I can help you if you want. But in exchange,” red hair fell to the side as Reki leaned over to get a better view of Langa, “you gotta explain to me our next English project. ‘Cause like, that man talks way too fast for me to catch a single thing he says. I’m pretty sure I understand those American sitcoms better than him, and I never know what’s happening in those.” 

Langa chuckled as he agreed on their deal. Reki would be helped with some English homework and Langa wouldn’t fail yet another written assignment; this friendship definitely had its perks beyond the whole having a friend thing. And it wasn’t even like Reki was exaggerating about their English teacher; the man really did speak way too fast. It also did not help that he had the heaviest accent Langa had ever come across, occasionally slurring his words and making it hard for even Langa to perfectly understand what was being said. But at least he had the advantage of being completely fluent, even if his grades didn’t always reflect that, which meant he could rely on the instruction sheet rather than the verbal expectations. 

Silence reigned once more in the little shop, both boys having returned to their individual activities. Quiet, methodical pen strokes echoed against the walls; the sound of rustling pages made its place in the song being composed in the little skateboard shop. It was quiet and relaxing, peaceful even. 

Langa had come to appreciate watching Reki work his crafts, be it doodling in the margins of his notebooks or his repetitive shaving of a board. Whether he knew it or not, he made the funniest faces as he concentrated on his work. Sometimes he would furrow his brow, leaning closer to the paper before straightening out to continue adding endless details to his drawing. Other times, he would stick his tongue out as if that was what helped keep focus on his work. And once he completed something he was particularly proud of, his eyes would glow with pride as he held his piece up to the light. That was the face Langa liked the most; it was the face of someone who was proud of themselves, and Reki deserved most of all to be proud of himself. He deserved to be proud of himself, to see himself the way Langa saw him. None of that frustration that would often overcome him as he would huff and rip the page out of his sketchbook or notebook. No more crumpling and tossing of masterpieces he simply could not see. If it were up to Langa, none of that would ever happen again, but for now, he would content himself in collecting Reki’s trashed art. Even if they weren’t up to Reki’s standards, they would always be works of art to Langa. 

Langa loved watching Reki draw. It was quiet and tranquil, a moment where Reki wasn’t bouncing around, talking with his hands, words stumbling over themselves as he went on and on. And as much as Langa loved Reki’s endless energy, he also deeply appreciated the calm moments they would share. But as with everything else, good moments must come to an end, the door chiming as a customer walked in. 

“Welcome to Dope— Oh, hey Emily!”

Langa perked up at the name. Emily? Why was she here of all places? Langa had purposely avoided telling her where he worked in hopes of getting away from her. Dope Sketch had been the only place Langa could go to escape the teasing remarks and those eyes that stared straight into his soul. It was the one place where he felt safe from her badgering questions about his oh-so-obvious crush on Reki. Work had somehow become his little slice of quiet heaven, and now that bubble had burst. Now, she had found him and his hiding spot. 

Reluctantly, Langa pushed himself off the ground only to smash his head against the counter and crash back down. He held the top of his head as she let out a whiney cry of pain. 

“Dude! Langa!” Amber eyes fell onto him, eyes filled with worry and shock. “What’s up with you and hitting your head lately?”

If Langa had known the answer, he would have told Reki. Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe it was all those distractions, distractions disguised as the people hovering around him. Maybe it was Reki and just how absolutely distracting he was, be it while he would sketch, his face will with concentration, or when he would kneel next to Langa, his beautiful eyes still wide and filled with worry.

Between Reki and Langa, there was no doubt that Reki was the more accident-prone one. He was the one constantly sporting bandages for his sprained ankles and wrists. He was the one scraping his knees after wiping out from trying another new trick he had found on the Internet. He was always the one laughing as he fell on his ass, his board flying from under his feet. Reki was so much more the accident-prone one, at least when it came to skating. When it came to their daily lives, Langa was starting to believe he was the clumsy one, if the last two weeks were any indication. He was the one tripping over his untied shoelaces, eating pavement as Reki choked on his laughter. He was the one splitting his eyebrow open on a window frame in the dead of the night. He was the one smashing his head against the counter instead of greeting his cousin.

“Is he… Is he alright?”

Emily’s head poked from above the counter, her hair a curtain for the nook under the counter. She must have climbed onto the counter to see what mishap was happening away from her prying eyes. And given the frown that pulled at the corners of her mouth, she mustn’t have been proud of clumsy Langa.

A flood of memories washed through Langa at the sight. It wasn’t the first time she had looked down at him like this. Somewhere, somewhere long lost to the fog of memory, this exact situation had happened. But somewhere in those memories, there had also been smiles. A flash of a faceless childish grin. A flash of a girl hanging above his head. A flash of blond hair blocking the sun. Some distant chatter. A storybook. A treehouse. Grass. Laughter. Summer.

Reki pulled Langa from the floor, pulling him out of his impromptus trip down memory lane. He looped his arm around Langa’s waist, holding him tightly as if he were afraid that Langa would drop back down to the ground as soon as he would let go of him. Or maybe Reki feared that Langa had concussed himself; thankfully, that had yet to happen. A miracle, really. 

Langa let himself be guided towards the stool Reki had been using earlier. He let his body crash against the wood as soon as he felt it brush against his thighs. If Reki was asking him to sit, then Langa could not refuse. He could never refuse Reki, no matter what it was he was asking. He had learned that the hard way, and there was no way he was going through those torturous days without Reki ever again. No way, especially not when Reki was this close, squeezing his way between Langa’s knees, his rough yet soft fingers holding onto Langa’s burning cheeks. Especially not when he was letting Langa hold on to his waist as he steadied himself onto the stool. Because obviously he needed something to steady himself; otherwise, he would have risked falling again. And he couldn’t fall again. Or was it too late for that? 

Reki was so close. So fucking close. Langa could practically count the freckles scattered across his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his ears… He could almost count every short lash of Reki’s. And he was talking so softly to Langa. His voice was just so mesmerizing, so magical. 

“How’s your vision? Do things look blurry?”

“Not more than usual.” A frown pulled at the corners of Reki’s mouth; so much for cracking a joke to lighten the mood. “My vision is fine if that’s what you’re asking. I see just fine. It was an accident; didn’t think I was that far under the counter.” 

 “And your head? Does it hurt? Do you feel dizzy? Do you feel like—!”

Now, had this been some teen summer romance blockbuster, then maybe Langa would have quieted Reki with a spontaneous kiss. And maybe that would have been the beginning of the best summer of Langa’s life. But Langa was no movie protagonist and, while he was gutsy, he wasn’t that impulsive. So instead, he simply tightened his grip on Reki’s waist, interrupting the boy’s panicked questions. 

“I’m fine, Reki. I barely bumped my head against the counter. I’ve dealt with far worse in the past and I’ve survived every one of those blows.” 

“You smashed your head against my window frame the other day! I don’t know dude, but that’s kinda worrying! You could be concussed or something! Like, it’s not normal or good for you to constantly be hitting your head! You’re,” Reki’s voice dropped, his eyes finding Langa’s, “you’re not lying to me, are you?”

Reki had never made it easier to smile. “I’m fine, I swear. And I’m not lying to you, I promise.”

Reki huffed as Langa held up his pinkie finger. A light chuckle fell from his lips as his hold on Langa fell away before returning, his own finger curled around Langa’s. A promise had been formed and sealed, a promise that could no longer be broken, at least according to the rules of pinkie promises. But that touch didn’t linger, Reki finally backing away from between Langa’s legs. 

“I’m getting you some water and you better not have moved when I get back, you hear me?” 

Langa scoffed but still gave Reki a curt nod. There was no point in arguing with Reki; if he had to tape Langa down to the chair to keep him from getting up and wandering around, then he wouldn’t hesitate to do so. So Langa knew better than to try to argue. He simply watched the boy dash to the backroom where their bags were stashed. 

It never took much for Langa to look absolutely smitten. All he needed was a door swinging shut behind Reki, leaving Langa hidden from judgement. All it took was that adorably serious expression on Reki’s face as he ran off. All it required was for Reki to be, well, Reki. Everything about Reki was enough to leave Langa floating, because Reki was adorable. Seriously, absolutely adorable. 

“He sure it touchy with you.” 

Langa jumped at the sound of the voice, having forgotten about the girl standing by him. She had since gotten off the counter, but still, she leaned over it, eyes also glued to the door. The English almost sounded strange, like a foreign dialect taking over a safe space. Emily’s presence felt wrong, as if she had no business being here, next to him. Her presence left Langa annoyed once more, the feeling tugging on his insides. Work had always been one of the places where it truly was just him and Reki. Sure, sometimes Manager Oka would pop in, but most of the time, it was just Reki and Langa. Most of the time, it was a space for just them, somewhere where no one could burst their little bubble.

Dope Sketch was one of the few places where Langa didn’t feel self-conscious every time he snuck a glance at Reki. It was the only place where he knew he wouldn’t be caught by anyone. It was the only place where he felt he could be so unapologetically himself, knee-deep in his feelings without the fear that someone would bring it up, tease him about, or worst of all, call him out on his dumb crush. Here, at work, it was a land that belongs to only Reki and Langa. 

“He’s just treating me the same way he treats his sisters when they get hurt.” Langa’s tone was sharp and dry, leaving little room for a retort from the queen of annoying. “Probably just his brotherly instincts kicking in or whatever. It comes naturally to him to be caring, y’know?” 

“Uh-huh, sure.” Emily clicked her tongue as she climbed back onto the counter to sit cross-legged on top of it. “You keep telling yourself that, Lover Boy.” 

Langa had gotten his fair share of nicknames over the course of his life. He had gotten used to being called a variety of names by the people surrounding him. Reki often teased him by calling him Prince Langa, a name which made no sense to Langa given that he was the furthest thing from a prince. His mother still called him her little man or her baby, which, the more Langa thought about it, were hilarious things to be called. And Emily had gotten into the habit of calling him whatever passed through that thick skull of hers, though she did tend to favor the twig insult. There had been so many names that had shaped Langa, but Lover Boy had never been one of them. Lover Boy was… it wasn’t Langa. It was a name for someone with confidence, someone who was a smooth talker, things that were definitely not Langa when it came to people. Those were things that left Langa’s inside squirming with discomfort. It was a name he wanted to run from, and the best way to do that was by completely changing the subject before Emily could ever bring it up again. 

“Hey, Emmy? Did we have a treehouse as kids?” 

Emily scrunched her nose as she turned towards Langa. Her brow was pinched, looking strangely at her cousin. “Yeah? Grandpa built it when I was 10, but had to take it down that same summer for some unknown reason, don’t you remember?” 

Langa shook his head with a shrug. 

“We spent nearly the entire summer in that tree. But why bring that up now? That’s so random.” 

Langa shrugged once more. He wanted to change subjects and had had a flashback right after hitting his head. It was random, but that was the thing with foggy memories: they reappeared at the strangest of moments. 

“Seeing you looking down on me reminded me of that summer, but I wasn’t sure if it was a real memory or just my brain making things up. It’s just… It’s all a little haze, like every summer memory overlaps. I can’t really tell what happened and when, except the really big events that often got us in shit. Like that one time everyone thought I broke my arm after I fell from a tree? The first time we were allowed to go to the park alone and got home like an hour after the set time? Or that time we accidentally splashed paint on Grandma’s carpet?” 

“Oh man! She was so pissed at us! The stain is still there, you know? Almost faded, but you can still see it if you know where to look. And like, I was so sure she was going to rip our heads off that day.” 

“Yeah, she was not happy about that one. But the treehouse…” Langa leaned back on the stool, careful to not tip over and crash once again. “The memory feels fake. It’s like I had made it up to give myself some resemblance of a real childhood.”

“But you did have a real childhood, Langa. Sure, it was maybe a little unconventional with all your snowboarding training and competitions, maybe a bit of a gifted kid childhood, but you did still have a childhood. Your parents still took you out to the park when you were a kid and weren’t such an antisocial mess.” Emily stuck her tongue out at Langa’s pointed glare, grinning at the low blow. “But for real though, you had a pretty normal childhood otherwise. Like your parents used to push you on the swings for hours on end when you were a baby. Apparently, you like those things so damn much that the only time you would cry was when someone took you out of your swing.”

Langa slumped down on his stool, ducking his head in embarrassment. The swings were one of those vague baby memories he still had. He had forgotten the whole of it, but he did remember the wind in his face and how much liked it. Still likes it, actually. That had maybe played a big part in why he had gotten into snowboarding in the first place. Maybe that was why he still loved skateboarding so much. All Langa wanted was to be able to fly.

“We spent summer after summer together, playing in the basement and outside and all around the grandparents’ house. And you even throw the biggest temper tantrum ever in the supermarket because your mom didn’t get you the cookies you wanted.” 

“I did not do that.”

Emily snorted at Langa’s defensiveness. “Uh, yes you did. Auntie Nanako even has the pictures to prove it and she showed them tome. Something about despite not being pleased with her yelling child, she needed physical proof of you being a total brat out in public so that if ever you have kids and want to kill them for screaming in a public place, then she’d show you that you were no better despite being the quietest, shyest kid ever. Something about every kid throwing a temper tantrum at the most inconvenient of times. And then you’d just have to deal with it and understand your kid’s point of view of some shit like that?” 

Langa bit the insides of his cheeks, not quite wanting to believe the story. His mother had always insisted that he had been an exceptionally easy child, though a little worryingly emotionless. He would rarely argue or cry, so the possibility that he had been an absolute monster in the middle of a supermarket because of a box of cookies, it felt wrong. It felt impossible. Out of character. Fabricated, especially since Langa didn’t like cookies that much. 

“But it’s not because you weren’t part of the popular group at school or that you didn’t hang out with the other kids at the park after class that you lack a childhood. Childhood is… It’s a lot of things. Like trying to teach you how to do ballet. Or watching movies during lunchtime. Or playing video games in a basement.” 

“I think you mean repeatedly hitting me with a Wii remote because I somehow managed to beat your high score on Just Dance.”

“You weren’t even trying!” 

Langa chuckled at the girl’s outburst. “Just have to learn the mechanics of the game to win. You don’t actually have to be good at dancing. Or dance at all.” 

“You…”

Emily huffed, but it wasn’t long before her frown broke into a grin. Laughter spilled from her lips as Langa swatted her hand away, dodging her attempt at a hair ruffle. Because even if they were going down memory lane, Langa sure as hell was not letting her treat him like he was 5 years old again. 

“I know you feel like you’re a big weirdo and you didn’t have a childhood since your past doesn’t look like some American Walmart Thanksgiving commercial, but I can guarantee you had one. And a damn good one, for that matter! And you also definitely made mine a whole lot more memorable and fun. Like, I don’t know what I would have done without my little baby cousin to play with all summer long. Most probably would have turned out a whole lot worse than I have had you not been there to entertain me and keep me in check.”

Despite Emily’s teasing tone, it was her sentimentality that really stood out to Langa. And he never knew what to do with that. He didn’t know how to respond to the girl who always seemed so energetic, always so ready for the future. She wasn’t one to reminisce, tripping over memories from the past. Or at least, that was how Langa had always perceived her; that wasn’t the Emily he knew. To him, she was someone who lived to tease and annoy him, wholeheartedly. She wasn’t one to smile as softly as she was now, a light mist covering her eyes as the ancient years rolled by like a silent film. Those brown eyes, they were made to shine from mischief and scheming, not from the threat of tears. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, Langa felt something in his chest. His heart? Was it beating? If it was, it sure wasn’t the same heartbeat as when he was around Reki. It also wasn’t the same heartbeat that would race as he would slide through the world on a board. No, this time, it was going slower, feeling calmer. It beat with such a different feeling that Langa could not name it. It wasn’t excitement; it wasn’t anticipation. Was it perhaps nostalgia? Safety? Was it remembering what it was like to be a little kid, scrapping his knee as they played soccer against the garage door? Was it finding his first best friend, the person who had once been so important to him? It wasn’t anything like being with Reki, exciting and energetic and new, but still, it was nice. It felt like forgetting the distance that had estranged him from the girl who had been his only friend for so many years.

“Em,” Langa felt himself choke up, but he had to say something. He couldn’t remain silent. He couldn’t let the moment die. He couldn’t leave things unsaid, things he’d later have to bury deep within himself because it would be too late. He couldn’t let this moment pass, let the words fester until there would be no one to say them to anymore. “You also—!”

“Sorry it took so long! I just couldn’t find my water bottle anywhere, but I finally found it!”

Reki’s head poked out from behind the door as he held the bottle in the air. Almost like magic, all signs of tears vanished from Emily’s face. She perked up, a grin lighting up her face. And with such a grin came the dawning realization that all hell was about to break loose, the girl leaning dangerously close to Reki. 

“You should feed it to him.” 

Never had Langa felt so mortified in his life. He didn’t even dare look at Reki; his eyes remained on Emily who was now giggling hysterically to herself as she kicked her feet in the air like a child. For the first time since landing in Japan, she didn’t stumble on her Japanese words. They came as naturally as if they had been English. There had been no hesitancy whatsoever, which only made it worse for Langa and his stupidly burning cheeks. No need for a mirror to guess the color of his face; the blossoming heat was the only indicator he needed. 

“You feeling sick, man? If you need anything else, you’d tell me, right? If you’re not feeling well, you can go home. I’ll tell Oka what happened, don’t worry about it! I promise he’ll understand and I’m totally capable to working alone! You don’t have to worry about me at all!” 

Emily may not have hesitated, but bless her word for word translation passing over Reki’s head. And bless his not asking what she meant; explaining would have been far too awkward. Otherwise, there would have been more hesitancy in Langa’s grabbing of the water bottle before chugging down half of its contents. 

“I’m fine, Reki. Really. You have to stop worrying so much about me. And Emmy’s just being a bitch who thinks I can’t do anything on my own.” 

“Not my fault you were a mega crybaby back when you were a kid.” The shrug was just for show, but the twinkle in her eye was the real jab. “Took you forever to figure out chopsticks, I was convinced the grandmother was going to have to feed you until the day you die.” 

“Wait, but if I remember correctly, weren’t you the family’s crybaby? Because I’m pretty sure I saw you sobbed uncontrollably that time your pink spoon was dirty and you were forced to eat with a purple one.”

“I—!"

“I can’t imagine either one of you crying.” Reki’s voice cut through the argument, both turning towards the boy. He was glancing away, refusing to meet either of their gazes. “You guys are both just so… not like me.” 

The forced, bitter laughter that fell from Reki’s mouth broke Langa’s heart. Crying had always been a sensitive topic for Reki. He had never liked how easily his emotions could get the best of him. He hated how easily tears formed at the corners of his eyes. Just the idea of crying left him insecure, feeling like less than those around him. And Langa, well, he hated how Reki felt obligated to bottle up his feelings, not wanting to let others see his sadness or distress out of fear of being seen as less.

Langa remembered the first time he had seen Reki cry. It had been a hard time for both of them. It had been hard on Reki who had been holding back his tears until the dam broke free, a flood of tears pouring from his usually bright amber eyes. All his sadness, all his stress, all his insecurities had been let out, a ticking timebomb that exploded at the worst possible moment. And it had been hard on Langa who hadn’t known what to do. He didn’t know how to comfort Reki. He didn’t know what to say to him either. He didn’t know how to deal with everything that was happening so quickly, all around him. 

Since then, Langa made sure to remind Reki that crying wasn’t a bad thing. There was no reason for him to be ashamed of the tears. They weren’t a weakness. They weren’t a character flaw. It didn’t matter what other said or did or how they looked at him. None of it mattered; all that mattered was that Reki knew that crying was natural. All that mattered was that he didn’t find himself hating himself more for letting it all out. 

“Someone willing to let others see them cry is the bravest and strongest kind of person out there,” Langa had once said when Reki looked like he was holding back tears. “Not only are they honest with themselves, but they’re also not afraid to let others know how they’re feeling. There’s no point in hiding when you’re hurt.” 

It wasn’t every day Langa knew what to say, but in that moment, he remembered his mother’s words. They had been said to him when he was at his lowest, but still, he hadn’t taken them to heart. Still, he hadn’t let himself cry. But thankfully, Reki had listened. Thankfully, Reki had let it all out, weeping into Langa’s shoulder, hiccupping muffled words into a soaked t-shirt until he passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Reki didn’t need to be like Langa. He didn’t have to put up some emotionless person. He didn’t need to be ice cold like Langa. He didn’t need to look like he was ready to fight whoever got in his way or brush off everything anyone said. He didn’t need tears to be foreign to him. 

Reki, he was allowed to be emotional. He was allowed to be messy with his feelings. He was allowed to care about everyone around him and he was allowed to feel something about what as being said about him. He was allowed to cry his frustrations out if that was what helped him because Langa would be there. Langa would always be there. He would always be a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold if Reki so wanted. 

Emily’s fingers curled around Reki’s forearm, leaning in closer than strictly necessary. “Don’t cry! I was kidding, you know! Langa is more than capable of taking care of himself! See? He can drink all on his own!” Her fingers dug into Reki’s skin, nearly breaking it as she gestured frantically at Langa with her other hand. “See? He’s a big boy! Totally capable of using his weird lanky body all on his own!”

Had it not been for the far more natural and pretty laughter that bubbled out of Reki, Langa would have hit his cousin upside the head. Or thrown the water bottle at her. Really, anything to shut her up. But Reki was rubbing at his nose, a grin slowly making its way across his face once more. There he was, smiling and bright, just the way Langa like it. Because while Reki was allowed to cry, it didn’t mean Langa liked it. If he could have it his way, he would have kept Reki happy for the rest of eternity. If he could keep Reki laughing, then there was nothing Langa wasn’t willing to do for that. There was absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do to see that pretty smile blossom across Reki’s face. 

“So,” Reki straightened himself out as he fell back into his more cheerful and professional voice, “can I help you with anything? Looking for anything in particular?” 

Emily slid down from the counter, her eyes scanning the environment as she hummed. It was obvious she hadn’t come here for anything at all; all she knew of skateboarding was that they had wheels and Langa could go fast on his board. Other than that, she had never shown interest in the sport. 

“Not really?” Langa rolled his eyes at the girl’s words. “I mean, I was looking for something, but that was mostly company from you guys. I’m just so bored at the apartment with Auntie Nanako at work and Langa’s not there either and there’s just so much tv and doomscrolling a girl can do in a day.  So yeah, I was just bored and wanted to check out where you two spend your days.” 

Reki leaned against the counter, his eyes following Emily’s gaze and fingers. “That sucks. Can’t you visit around or something?” 

“Not fluent enough and definitely can’t read anything. I’d be lost in a matter of seconds.” 

Her fingers swept over rough boards and smooth helmets. The colors reflected against her skin, staining her momentarily as she moved across the little shop. She seemed so out of place here, surrounded by loud t-shirts and colors. but at the same time, Emily seemed at ease. She browsed as if she were in any other shop, her eyes flickering between the many pieces on display. There were no questions or disgust in her eyes; there was an understanding that this was just another sports shop.

“Well, you know how to skate?” 

Emily turned back to the boy and shook her head. So much was obvious; she didn’t have the scars that Langa had or the fearlessness. She was dainty and princess-like, the exact opposite of what a skateboarder should be. Or maybe she did have what it took to be a skateboarder. Maybe Langa was just afraid of the sudden direction of this conversation.

“I tried to do a bit of figure skating back in the day, but I highly doubt that’s the skating you’re referring to. I always had to be careful to keep my bones intact since, you know, dancing and all that.”

“I can teach you if you’d like. I promise I won’t let you get hurt. You got my hand to hold for as long as you need and want.”

Reki’s smile was… Emily’s laughter… Everything started to fade out. Everything but the ringing in Langa’s ears. Everything but the tightness in his chest. Everything but the twist in his gut. Everything but the choking sensation building up at the base of his throat. 

Everything was fading. Everything was buzzing. Everything was going to hell.

Oh no.

[gayf1hoe]

Part 1

As I sit down with my bowl of cereal I begin to open my laptop and see an abundance of emails that I have ignored over the course of the past few weeks, because I've been having a full media and work detox.

As the emails load I see the latest email is from Gunther so I decide I best not ignore it otherwise if I ignore it like I did when I first joined the team he will give me a lecture about how rude it is to ignore emails. Opening it I scan it with my eyes whilst spooning my cereal into my mouth. I read that Gunther has called for a meeting for today which isn't much of a surprise given it's only a few weeks until pre-season testing and I don't even know who my teammate is. After last season I need a good teammate. Nikita was a great person but a terrible teammate. It was like Haas had only one driver driving for them because he spent half of his time spinning off the track or going into the wall so this year I need a teammate who will be able to score points alongside me.

I continue scrolling through the emails and curse myself for putting myself in this position, when people say F1 drivers just drive a car they are so wrong. They should try keeping up with all the emails and brand deals we have to do.

I finish my breakfast and quickly jump in the shower and dig out an outfit from my draws that are more than due a clear out but that's very far down on my very long to do list that never seems to be fully complete.

I double check I have everything before shutting the door to my apartment and heading to the factory where the meeting is, thankfully it isn't far away as when I joined Haas I bought an apartment close to the factory and moved.

As I approach the entrance I am handed my ID pass and make my way to Guenther's office. The building has become like a second home to me, in fact I have probably spent more time here in the past 2 years than I have at home, it's full of loads of Haas memorabilia such as the burnt Halo that saved Grosejans life, or the chassis of previous cars. Unfortunately the trophy cabinet isn't as grand or as full as Red Bull's or Ferrari's but it still displays the team's short history.

Eventually after greeting everyone who I haven't seen for a few months I reach the door of Gunther's office and confidently knock and wait for a response from within, it doesn't take long for him to say "come in".

Whilst he is my team principal he is also like a father figure to me and I would be lying if I said I didn't miss his dry humour and constant use of profane langauge over the course of the break.

I take a seat opposite him and see that there is another chair next to me so I assume someone else will be joining us shortly. We take a brief moment to catch up after the break and we discuss what we did and he asks if my swearing is under control yet. As last year every team radio and interview I almost certainly used a swear word, although I don't think he has much room to talk.

I could tell how stressed he was last year having Nikita crashing his car every 5 seconds, Dimitry threatening to pull out the Uralkali sponsor and having 2 rookies on his team was never going to be easy but I don't think he envisaged it being that hard, last year Haas managed to get 112 points all of which came from me so by the end of the year I was very burnt out and spent the entire break doing absolutely nothing.

The conversation bounces back and forth until there is a knock on the door causing silence to hit the room, Gunther goes over to the door and greets who ever is there but I can't see or hear who it is until Gunther moves out the way and motions to the chair, causing me to stand up and prepare to shake the person's hand what I didn't expect was to see that my new teammate was Carlos Sainz.

I knew Carlos was out of a seat this year, with much controversy behind it. I just never would have expected him to come to Haas, it's not that I'm unhappy with the team choosing him but he's going from one of the top teams to a team that is struggling to stay in the fight to be a midfielder.

Another reason I'm stood in silence is because well, Carlos is gorgeous there is no denying that and his natural charm makes him irresistible. I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Gunther repeatedly saying my name until I turn my head towards him and he then motions with his head for me to shake his hand. I shake his hand, make eye contact with him and say hello.

We both take a seat and Gunther walks around to his side of the desk, it kind of feels like you've been called to the Principal's office, even if you know you have done nothing wrong there is always nerves in your stomach.

"So Y/N if you can't tell by now Carlos is your new teammate" Gunther says in his typical blunt tone that makes me smile.

"Yes I had gathered that much Gunther"

We spend ages talking about media and contracts but it's more focused on informing Carlos on how the team works and what the expectations are although I can only assume they are a lot lower compared to Ferrari.

We are doing pre-season testing and revealing the livery in 2 weeks time so there are a lot of things to sort out in a short period of time. But after the meeting Gunther lets us go to lunch and it provides me and Carlos with an opportunity to get to know each other. before we go into the simulator for practice.

The lunch hall is quite full as the preparations for the next season are very much in full swing and with MoneyGram being the new sponsor there is a lot to change, I wish I could say I will miss having Nikita as a teammate but his father and Uralkali made my first season and absolute nightmare constantly accusing me of having a different or better car to Mazepin, I can't even begin count how many times my car was inspected by the FIA last year.

We collect our food and head to a quiet conference room as the dining hall is flooded by engineers, designers and loads of other staff that makes it barely possible to actually hear anyone. We eventually reach a quiet conference room and place our lunch down at the table before sitting down. For the initial 10 minutes we are just sat in silence before I'm the one to ask the first question.

"So why Haas, you must have been pretty desperate for that F1 seat? I say trying to break the silence with some humour.

"No, I wanted a team that would challenge me and I thought you would make a great teammate" as he finishes his sentence I have to look down because I can feel my cheeks blushing bright red like I've just seen my high-school crush.

He has great charisma, humour and looks and he is an extremely talented driver, the polar opposite to my previous teammate so I am elated at the fact he is my team mate although I'm sure my attraction to him will at some point cause a predicament that will arouse drama for us and the team. I can't help but admire him from the opposing side of the table, I probably look obsessed right now - but maybe that's an accurate description.

Throughout lunch we get to know each other more and more. He speaks about what it was like to have Charles as a teammate and I speak about what it was like to have Nikita as a teammate and I think I win at having the more Interesting stories.

But no sooner than lunch had started we have to go and do testing in the simulator which is an all too common thing in preparing for the season however I have never been a fan of simulators I don't feel they give the proper experience and plus 20 to 30 years ago there was no such thing as simulator testing and the drivers managed just as well. Me and Carlos go to separate rooms for the simulator tests and after we have to get our seats moulded so we don't see eachother until about 5 PM when we are allowed to go back home.

Unlike Carlos I live near the factory however he still lives in Spain so he's renting a hotel room. When we meet in the lobby I suggest we go for dinner at a nearby restaurant I know well and he agrees. We both head to my Audi and take a seat, "nice car" he compliments as he buckles his seat belt. We begin driving and in typical England fashion it starts to rain and the sound of rain pelting against the metal is a sound that feels the air of silence. But eventually Carlos sparks a conversation between us that is more personal and detached from racing.

"So do you have a partner?" He asks "nope, painfully single and probably will be forever" I reply further questioning "What about you?".

"Same, still single" he replies, "but sure someone with your good looks would be able to find someone" I instantly regret saying that it sounds like I'm hitting on him and he can clearly tell that I'm embarrassed.

"No need to feel shy, I am very honoured that you think I'm good-looking" whilst his response calms me, I still can't help but feel a little embarrassed still.

Shortly after making a fool of myself we pull into the parking bay of the restaurant and step out into the rain. We hastily rush into the restaurant taking refuge from the rain and are guided to our table by the waiter I know very well.

We are sitting down at the table and the waiter comes by again, "Now Y/N will it be the usual" he says whilst placing his hand on my shoulder, Carlos quickly averts his attention away from us and back to the menu after he's finished taking our orders Carlos comments on his behaviour.

"He's very touchy don't you think, maybe he likes you"

I laugh at his comment, "please I know his mother and he's so not my type"

"Well what is your type?" He presses on.

"The complete opposite of him" I state trying to give as little away as possible.

"Anyway, what's your type?" I ask, trying to deflect.

"Well I don't have a specific type I'm open to all kinds of people" He answers and as he finishes our food comes out putting an abrupt end to that conversation.

Over the course of dinner we talk about the plans for the forthcoming weeks and what the reaction is going to be like when everyone finds out that he's going to be driving for Haas. I can't lie, I can't wait to see the out roar of disappointment when they find out Carlos Sainz, one of the best drivers on the grid is in a Haas. I bet it's an image some can't even begin to imagine.

After dinner I drive Carlos back to his hotel which isn't too far from the restaurant and as I am about to drive off he invites me in.

"Hey, do you want to come in for a glass of wine?" He asks whilst undoing his seat belt.

"I can't, I'm driving" I say.

"Well you can just stay the night", I think about it momentarily and agree to come in. I quickly park the car and walk into the hotel with Carlos.

When we reach his room he quickly digs around in his pocket and pulls out his key card and opens the door. His room is more grand and well decorated than my own apartment and it's fixtures are more extravagant than anything I had ever seen.

Carlos walks over to the mini bar and pours two glasses of red wine and hands me one as I'm walking over to take a seat. I take a moment to admire the rest of the room, and wonder where Haas found the money in the budget for such a nice hotel.

We continue talking about our F1 careers and whilst mine is only 2 seasons old his is much more interesting than mine. We also talk about our personal lives, friends, family, relationships, hobbies and soon one glass of wine turns into a whole bottle.

Whilst I'm not drunk I'm certainly a little tipsy and probably not in the right mind frame to drive or walk home so I decide to take Carlos' offer of staying the night so I quickly get changed into some shorts and a t- shirt Carlos had given me and climb into the bed. Yes it's a little weird sharing the bed with my new team mate but I have known Carlos since last year so I guess it's not that bad.

A little after I had gotten into the bed Carlos comes out of the bathroom and gets into the bed next to me and turns the TV on.

"What do you want to watch?" He asks.

"I don't mind," I respond.

Shortly after he picks a TV show I drift off to sleep and don't really remember much.

Waking up in the morning I feel a headache and a slight hangover sweep over me. I hadn't had a single alcoholic drink since the last race of the season so it hit me pretty hard.

With my eyes feeling extremely sensitive the slight slither of light that bypasses the blinds peirces into my eyes causing me to let out an audible groan that causes Carlos to wake up.

"Are you ok?" He asks.

"Aside from a banging headache I should be fine" I say, pulling myself out of the bed and walking over to his table where there is a pair of sunglasses and putting them on to reduce the strain on my eyes.

I walk into the bathroom and have a shower all whilst keeping the sunglasses on my headache only seems to intensify as time passes.

I get changed in the bedroom whilst Carlos has a shower and we have to be at the factory in less than an hour so I only manage to have an apple and a glass of water for my breakfast and due to my headache I can't drive, so I entrust Carlos with my most expensive possession and pray he doesn't have an accident, but as he is an ex Ferrari driver I have faith in his competence and driving ability.

Although Carlos is a good driver I don't think he understands the speed limit is a limit and not a target and I'm sure when I go home there will be a speeding ticket in the post. However we do arrive much earlier than expected so I guess that's a positive. As we walk into the factory the smell of automotive oil is a smell that doesn't help my hangover at all.

We are left standing around for about 5 minutes before the head of Technical Engineering arrives and tells us what we are doing today, not before he questions me.

"Y/N is there a reason why you are wearing sunglasses indoors when it is winter?".

"I've got a little headache" I reply but he already knows.

"As long as your hangover doesn't impact your performance today I will look past it" he says unlocking the doors to the simulators.

Today is the day that Haas will announce that Carlos is joining the team and we have been informed we are filming a short video which will cause many people to have the shock of their lives.

3 hours of my day is spent in the simulator running through every single setting the car has and the different types of balance settings the car has. It's quite boring but it's also important.

The media manager comes by and pulls me and Carlos out to film the video and we have to do so many retakes because we can't stop laughing and I keep on saying "Uralkali Haas" instead of "MoneyGram Haas" but the final result doesn't show how many times we had to go through it.

"Hi guys my name is Y/N L/N, and I'm Carlos Sainz and we are the drivers for MoneyGram Haas F1 Team"

The team are then going to take that speech and make a promo using photos of me and Carlos in the sim and in our race suits and by 2 PM the video is out and the Internet is going wild especially the other drivers who had no idea Carlos was going to Haas.

I get a text message from George who knows about my slight crush on Carlos and says:

"Don't get too carried away" I laugh at his message and Carlos asks what I'm laughing at but I just say it's a meme, and technically I'm not lying because I am talking to the most meme-able man ever.

Over the course of the next hour the media is going absolutely berserk. They never saw this coming and quite frankly I can't blame them because I didn't either and I don't think Gunther expected Carlos to actually say yes.

Mid way through scrolling through the comments Carlos comes over and says, "I'm going out for dinner tonight with Lando, George and Alex and they told me to tell you that you are also invited" I thank him for telling me and I get back to doing some admin tasks to pass time and clear things off my extensive to-do list.

As the day progresses my hangover eases off and I manage to cope without wearing sunglasses and I vow to myself that I'm not going to drink for a few weeks, but these self promises never seem to stick.

I'm sitting in one of the conference rooms meticulously reading through emails, rules and regulation changes, and other miscellaneous things like sponsorship information. It's all quite banal and mundane but I'm in a great flow and manage to read most of the stuff that I had been tasked with so it should make Gunther and the management team very happy, last year I didn't really make an effort and didn't fully comprehend all the rules and may have accidentally touched Zhou's Rear wing in parc ferme and it was a costly mistake that resulted in me being shouted at by Gunther like a school child.

I decide that I have read enough for one day so I decide to collect my belongings and head down to the reception area to wait for Carlos. He is taking a while so I begin to pace up and down admiring the past cars that are on display showcasing the history of Haas, but eventually Carlos does turn up.

"Sorry I'm late, Gunther was lecturing me" he says sincerely.

"It's fine he does that often" I say putting my coat on and removing my keys from my pocket.

"So what restaurant are we going to?" I add.

"It's a Thai restaurant that Alex found, I'll drive if you want me to".

I think for a moment but see he clearly wants to drive so I chuck him my keys and we exit the building.

When we arrive the guys are already standing outside waiting for us and as we step out the car George is giving me his usual devilish smile that is insinuating something. We greet each other and shake hands and hug each other and they are all excited as they haven't seen each other in a few months. Despite being in F1 for a year I kept myself to myself and maintained a private life and didn't really connect with other drivers apart from George, Lance and Pierre so it's a little awkward for me as I have barely said 10 words to Lando or Alex.

We eventually head in and we are shown to our table. I try to sit next to Carlos but Lando gets there before me so I sit down in-between Alex and George.

I take this time as an opportunity to get to know Alex as we haven't really had much time to talk.

"So how's things going at Williams?" Is the first question that comes to mind but given the results of the season I can sort of make my own answer up.

"Yeah it was a tough season but we are working hard this year, anyway how are things going at Haas especially after Mazepin?"

"Going well, obviously I have a new teammate now so hopefully more points and hopefully the car spends more time on the track than in the wall".

He laughs lightly at my little dig at Nikita and then asks how I'm finding Carlos being my new teammate and I can't really think of an answer as we have only done two days of simulator testing so I can't really give a valid answer so I simply reply "it's going well, I think we get on" George hears my response and I see him pulling that grin again and I lightly hit his leg with my foot under the table causing his grin to dissipate.

Over the course of dinner Lando and Carlos are constantly touching each other and joking with one another and for some reason I feel angry, jealous?

I know I have nothing to be jealous of, it's not as if he's my boyfriend or even remotely interested in me so I have no idea why I'm feeling these feelings that are so irrational.

At one point Lando is holding on to one of Carlos' arms and I excuse myself from the table and head to the bathroom where I take a moment to just cool down and splash some water on my face. I don't intend to make an embarrassment out of myself over a guy I have only really known for 2 days. As I'm patting my face dry with the paper towel I hear the door behind me creaking open and see George enter.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'm fine just struggling with a hangover still" I reply.

"You know you are one of two people after Carlos and Lando is fierce competition. He won't let Carlos go that easily, but don't give up."

"I'm not after Carlos I'm after a race win and more points are the only 2 things I'm after in this world, besides relationships just get in the way" I start heading for the door and George places his hand on my shoulder.

"Believe me trying to block him out it won't work, I've seen Lando try and fail doing that. And you are teammates you are going to constantly be reminded of him"

"Thanks for the words of encouragement George" I say sarcastically before heading back to the table.

I manage to finish my meal and decide I have had enough of watching Lando fanboy over Carlos and say I'm going home and I ask Carlos for my car key.

When he asks why I'm going I say I'm just tired and he asks if I want him to drop me off but I tell him it's fine and he can stay and enjoy his evening.

As I walk out to my car and press unlock I hear someone call my name and turn to see Lando running towards me.

"Is everything alright?" I ask

"Everything is fine, just do me a favour and don't make things difficult for me and Carlos," he says.

"I'm sorry what do you mean exactly"

"Well I like him and I want to get with him at some point but I know you like him too so please let him go and settle for second best"

When he says that I become enraged and say something I probably shouldn't have.

"I guess you know a lot about being second best considering Oscar is always out qualifying you and getting more points than you, McLaren must really love you to still keep extending your contract but you will never be as good as Oscar"

"Don't be bitter Y/N it's not a good look"

During the drive home I am fueled by anger and I have gone over the speed limit a few times but at this point I don't really care, I have never been so annoyed by a single person.

I spent a year with Nikita and Dimitry Mazepin. I thought I had the patience of a Saint to deal with them, yet some McLaren driver comes along, makes a few comments and I see red.

I fumble around with my house keys before eventually finding the right one and open the door. The entire apartment is dead silent apart from the faint ticking of the clock. I throw my keys onto the small table by the front door and sit on the chair by the kitchen Island sipping on a glass of water when my phone pings and it's a message from Carlos.

'Hey Y/N me and Lando are going to a karting track tomorrow for a quadrant video. Would you like to come?"

I can't think of any excuse to get out of it so I text back "sure" despite the fact I'm completely unsure and a day with Lando and Carlos will really test my patience.

[damagedintellect]

Dazai Osamu x reader

💌 Reading into the palms of isekai bullshit: Chapter 6 💌  

Summary: You were no stranger to isekai bullshit. It’s not like you had a problem with it. The genre took over the anime scene for years now but you try to stay away from thinking about how you would handle the situation. The last time you thought about inserting yourself into your favorite show you wrote a 100k word xReader fic for your favorite characters and you didn’t want to spend all your time consumed by the brainrot again. Never again, you promised yourself that was the last time you’d let the devil on your shoulder win. You clicked on chapter 1 to start the adventure over again but when you opened your eyes and saw Dazai O-FUCKING-samu getting choked by Kunikida you honestly hoped it was a dream.  

Notes: Another isekai so I can play around with BSD like dolls.   

 This will be the last update for a while because Artfight starts in a few days and it takes place during the whole month of July. The theme is Vampire vs Werewolves which has me laughing my ass off, IT'S LITERALLY BSD THEMED I CAN'T IT'S TOO MUCH!!! I'm planning on siding with Vampire's since *SPOILERS* home boi is under the vampirism.

💌 Word count: 2,457 💌 <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

Everyone celebrated the fall of the guild that night. You shared a few drinks with Yosano and Kunikida but noticed that Dazai was missing. He must be at the art gallery with Hirotsu. Things were only going to get harder moving forward. This will probably be the only time you could have a drink and relax. You don't even want to think about it because you have a feeling Ranpo is going to threaten you for answers during the cannibalism arc but at the same time he’s seen that your knowledge isn't always indefinite. It's either that or once again Chuuya is an outlier. Before you could refuse it, one drink turned into two and the next thing you knew you were sitting in Yosano's lap as your arms were tangled with hers as you shot back your sixth or seventh bottle. Both of you were cackling about something Ranpo said as Kunikida was bringing you both water. You don't think you drank the water either. You only vaguely remember sharing another drink with Yosano before attempting to get back to the dorms. Kunikida was escorting Yosano while Ranpo begrudgingly helped you up the stairs. He was complaining that his room was directly below yours and he would have to walk twice as far. You told him you could make the ten feet on your own as he cheerfully bid you farewell for the night. The last thing you remember was inserting your key into the lock before you passed out.

Dazai decided to grab a drink at Lupin's after meeting with Hirotsu. There was a lot to think about after the fall of the guild and he knew he needed to take a break before looking into the rats. He had an eerie premonition he'd be crossing "his" path again but for now he needed to de-stress. Feeling the smooth burn down his throat calmed his active mind somewhat but it wouldn't be enough alcohol to get him tipsy. He rarely let himself get that loose so after the drink he casually strode home taking in the quiet walk observing the interesting nightlife.

When he got to the top of the stairs he knew something was off. He felt a presence but who could be out and about at this hour. All he knew is that thankfully it wasn't Chuuya. When he turned the corner he saw (Y/N) on the floor, key in hand just outside his room. Dazai couldn’t help the chuckle that passed his lips. She must have had drinks with Yosano. The doctor had a knack for drinking everyone under the table. Odd that you were on the floor outside his room but if he had to guess Ranpo got lazy. Dazai knelt down beside you to see if you were awake. The moment he was eye level with you he lightly tapped your shoulder as he spoke.

"Silly little Belladonna, you can't sleep out here. Let's get you to bed okay?"

You slowly stirred from the movement but it was clear you were too far gone. "Dasaiiii!" you slurred as you threw yourself on him nuzzling into his warmth. It had been cold on the floor. You were sad after your key didn't work and you were too exhausted to go to someone else's room. Thinking back you had your phone in your pocket you definitely could have called for help but it slipped your mind until right now. Once you lost your ability to stand you opted to sit down for a bit. That's when you fell asleep so this must be a dream. "Of course I'd dream of Dazai. God mmm pathetic." You scoffed at yourself, not hiding your smile because you didn't realize you were thinking out loud.

The brunette laughed at your outburst but quirked an eyebrow at its context. Past his name you mumbled the rest. "You're pathetic?" He was curious as you shuffled closer to him pulling away enough to look him in the eyes, he didn't move.

"I'm pathetic cause mmm in love with Osamu,” You said it so soft and gentle he thought he misheard you until the panic set in your voice. “Dream-zai you can't tell him! Because-" You stopped talking trying to come up with a reason. Ultimately you didn't know why you shouldn't tell him. Yeah of course rejection was a possibility but the way you see it your love is more unconditional. At this point you would rather Dazai be Dazai than have the feelings be mutual. You wanted him to know someone cared without expecting anything in return and that he can have what he wants without it being taken away. Or at least you think that’s what he wants, wait what were you talking about? Oh right! "I hav to tell hm so don't say anyfing or I’ll kill you myslef!" You pushed your fist to his chest as a threat.

Dazai blinked. You love him? Why? He's tried to threaten you, teased you and has tried to annoy you at every opportunity since you started working beside him at the ADA. It worked well for everyone else to be kept at arm's length but he guessed your little game was the difference. It did mean that you both shared some, moments. Why were you always so difficult and why did he feel warm like he wanted to believe you. His heart was beating erratically and not by his doing, he hated it. "We should get you to bed, you're already speaking nonsense." He helped you off the floor but you clung to him. It was cute but it made ushering you inside his room harder than it needed to be.

The moment you got inside you flopped down on his futon unprompted. The look you gave him at the prospect of him joining you was adorable and it made his heart clench as he frowned, getting you some water. You were much more honest when you were drunk. He almost missed the playful banter to get you to spill your secrets. He still couldn’t put a finger on how your intuition was flawlessly comprehensive or at least from what he’s tested and witnessed. Chuuya refused to give him any details of your meeting. He expected as much but there was a sliver of hope that Chuuya might spare a few details. Instead the redhead didn’t bother which could only mean that you were able to answer his questions otherwise he would have given Dazai an earful about how he was just wasting his time. Which brings him back full circle at how much could you realistically know by looking at people’s palms? It’s been eating at him slightly every day because there was no logic behind it. The fact that you know so much about him and his past yet you so proudly claimed to love him vexed Dazai. Which begged the question,

“Why do you love me?” He handed you the glass as you happily gulped down every last drop. “Dream-zai has to promise not to tell Osamu first.” You held out your pinky for him to take. Everytime you called him by his first name he felt miffed, there was this incessant tingling across his skin that made him feel warmth in the pit of his stomach. He knew you were only using it to distinguish between what you thought was the real and fake Dazai but it was starting to drive him up the wall that you couldn’t tell the difference. Then again he couldn't tell if he liked or hated the way hearing his first name from your lips made him feel. When he extended his pinky he noted how sweaty his palms were. Why was this happening to him he didn’t understand.

“For the longest time he couldn’t see the value in living and I can sympathize with that, I don’t know if he still doesn’t but he thinks he isn’t worthy of it and for someone so intellectually gifted and self aware it’s cute that he’s so emotionally inept. With his smile he could get away with murder and he knows it, he knows he’s not a good person but still chose to side with helping people and is willing to sacrifice everything for it. But it must be lonely to push everyone away because deep down he’s terrified of losing everything important to him. He refuses to have wants and desires without trying to rationalize or justify them in some way and that’s stupid.” You laughed eyes half lidded, not even sure if any of this is making any sense to Dream-zai. The water seemed to help sober you enough to speak in full sentences at least but you still slurred a few words here and there.

Dazai on the other hand has been marveling you wide eyed at a complete loss for words. Where did all this come from? He’s even more confused now and his heart was working overtime to the point it ached. He needed you to stop talking before his “symptoms” got any worse. He couldn’t fight the urge to reach out as you were blissfully unaware continuing your line of thought. 

“At the end of the day I don’t think he knows that love can be unconditional. That people don’t need a reason to care for him-”

It barely registered that he placed his lips on yours but when it does you smile. Your eyes slipped shut as you slumped backwards on the futon. It took Dazai a minute to process everything that just happened as he threw himself on the floor next to you both hands clawing at his face as the realization hit him like a bus. It was the only way to get you to shut up. That was a lie and he knew it but it’s what he kept repeating to himself as his blood ran cold. He wanted to run away but if he did then you’d get suspicious. Would you even remember? This was supposed to be a simple game of chicken. It wasn't supposed to end with him developing feelings of any kind, but no one has ever been so painfully honest with him before. His heart was still racing as he was trying to find an out. He got up and started pacing. He looked back at you, he knew what he must do.

The next morning your head was killing you. It was a mistake to drink with Yosano but at least you can say you did it. You tried to sink back into the covers but you noticed it was hard to shift your position almost like someone was holding you in place. You remembered Ranpo accompanying you back to the dorms. Your eyes shoot wide open as you fight the dizziness. The more you moved the more you felt the need to purge the contents in your stomach. You took some deep breaths as you weighed out your options. You decided to slowly remove the hand around your waist first but when your fingers felt bandages your mind was sent into a different panic. Part of you was relieved it wasn’t Ranpo but this wasn’t any better. The more you woke up you realized you were only wearing your undergarments. WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT!

Before you could spiral any further, strong arms pulled you closer as Dazai’s sultry morning voice almost lulled you back to sleep. “Good morning love~” he kissed the crook of your neck “How’re feeling?”

You leaned into the pleasant sensation for a moment as you snapped back to reality. You could panic all you wanted in your head but you couldn’t let him have the satisfaction. “Like shit but I really should have seen this coming honestly.” You shifted to lay on your back feeling the liquids slosh around. You were going to be sick. Dazai was laying on his side using one hand to prop himself up and  using the other one to curl your hair behind your ear and out of your face. He was looking at you like you were his world. It was charming if not almost unsettling since you don’t remember anything from last night at all. “So Love~” You mimic the pet name “Care to fill me in on what we got up to last night?” Based on Dazai’s current lack of shirt and snarky demeanor you could only imagine that you guys finally had at it but it doesn’t bridge the gap for how you ended up here with him.

“Ah so you don’t remember.” Dazai acted smug but hearing that was a huge relief to him. The last thing he needed was for you to remember him being mildly flustered by your words alone. He let his finger trace along your jaw tipping your chin up at him. “Want me to jog your memory?” 

“Depends on who caved, but you could always give me a demonstration.”

How peculiar, he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction. You must genuinely not remember anything from last night. Out of all the ways he planned for this to go down he half expected you to see through him immediately as you have in the past. Maybe the alcohol was to blame? Whatever the case he intended on using this to his advantage as he leaned in to close the distance between you. The longer you guys spent fooling around the more time Dazai had to ignore his responsibilities. Victory was sweet, the kiss however taste of stale liquor. 

He smirked as he pulled away “Last night you waited outside my door and threw yourself at me confessing your undying love for me-” You started laughing but stopped feeling a wave of nausea. You sat up gesturing your hand for him to give you a minute to assess whether you should go throw up or not. Even if you could keep all the fluids inside you it was probably better that you did. It would be less for your liver to process later. Dazai seemed to understand as he helped you to the bathroom. He even helped get your hair out of the way and rubbed circles on your back while he mentioned this is why no one drinks with Yosano anymore. Once you got most of it out, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Going back to last night, I call bullshit.” He was being too overly dramatic for you to gauge any semblance of what really happened.

“Aw but I thought you trusted me~”

“I do, which is why I'm not even going to bother with what I don’t remember.”

He frowned, you weren’t playing fair at all.

[itsybiggy]

Stuck With Me: Peter Parker x OC

Cute Peter Parker slow burn, less spiderman action more just good ol awkward Parker.

Peter has been in a bad mood all month, but with soon to be divorced parents, trying to figure out what's wrong with him is the last thing Lani needs. Thankfully summer break is here. Lani, Ned, Peter, and MJ set off on the summer vacation road trip to California. Drama ensues

🕸️Chapter 2🕸️

Chapter 1

Master list

•🕷️🕷️🕷️•

He left me on read. He never does that, like ever. My thoughts begin to wander to attempt to make evenly winged eyeliner.

So much for keeping it positive.

Intrusive thoughts pile up in my mind. I'm not dumb enough to really believe that Peter now hates the mere thought of me; but the little "read" under my text makes me anxious all the same.

I being wracking my brain. Thinking of everything I have said to him in the past weeks. I mean maybe I said something to make him upset or did something and just not realize it. But honestly, it only makes me smile as I recall the jokes we cracked and fun we all  have had. Nothing bad is really coming to mind.

My screen is still void of any text notifications.

I check my refection in the mirror, smiling. I usually try to stay positive when it comes to my appearance. And I definitely can't complain of how my butt looks my black maxi skirt. I adjusted my white crop top, making sure the tiny cross stitched spider was visible. After a quick click of my off brand Dock Martins I decided humidity was a virtue and mirror time was over.

It was already 5:15, I didn't feel quiet ready but Ned would be waiting.

~15 minutes later~

"GET IN LOSER WE ARE GOING SHOPPING!" I yell as Ned walks down the apartment stairs.

He gets in the car "Hey."

"Hey." My smile drops and I hope it's subtle. The tone of his voice worried me. Silence between us is uncommon. I squirm a bit in my seat.

Seeing as he isn't going to make conversation, I speak up.

"Did you get the texts from me and Michelle?" I say.

"Yeah, I have no idea what's wrong with him. Maybe we will figure out tonight" he says quickly, shrugs and looks out the window. Silence fills the car again.

I know you can't sound like anything over text, but Ned sounded a lot peppier when we were messaging. What was going on with my friends?

"We should go see a movie after."  I make a lame attempt to kindle a conversation.

Ned seems to perk up a bit at this.

"Yes! The Joker is out!"

I laugh at this, I'd never been much for DC superhero comics. Especially when they are made up. It didn't really make a lot of sense why someone would make up a superhero and a supervillain when there are plenty to choose from that are real. Movie production companies have tried to profit off of rising superhero stars. The movies are never as good as the up close and real action.

I shrug "I'll see whatever you want bubby."

He winces at 'bubby' and goes back to looking out the window.

I feel my face getting hot. Ok mental note, after being called bubby for 3 years Ned now doesn't like it.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH MY FRIENDS! Blasts in my mind. My only hope now was that Michelle was normal.

___

To my relief she was. We got to the diner at 6:04, Michelle sitting down at our usual table in the back. We try to sit in the back as to not disturb other customers. Our laughs are usually boisterous and frequent not to mention the cheeky jokes. And all being on the decathlon team, heated arguments or "debates" on some old dudes theories or such tend to heated. But we are high tipping customers so we don't worry about it too much.

"Hey guys surprised to see you have made it here alive." She jokes.

"I don't know where you got that I was a bad driver!" I motion for Ned to take a seat before I slide in next to him.

"Oh I think you know." She winks.

"what?" I look at her, perplexed before she shakes her head.

"Speak of the devil" she said just as Peter walks through the door.

The little bell at the top of the door gives a joyful ring. Peter flinches but his body quickly moved back into its slightly hunched position with a frown on his face. Oh great.

"Hey Peter!" I say as he sits down next to Michelle.

He looks into my eyes and gives a slight smile. But says nothing.

A waiter soon comes around with menus "Can I get you started off with anything to drink?"

"I will have a coke." Michelle starts.

"Same." Peter mumbles.

"Sprite." Says Ned cheerfully.

"Tea for me please and thank you." I say brightly, I had to stay positive. I am with my friends to get away from negativity, not have more of it.

Once the waiter left we all began talking. Peter slowly starts engaging more, and it seems to feel right again. Something about him is definitely off; though that does make me very worried about him, I know now was not the time to ask. I will just do my best to cheer my moody friend up.

I smile, mentally stepping back from the conversation, contentment filled my heart. There is nowhere I would rather be and no group of people I would rather be with. I mean they are the only friends I have...

Good Eats has become a favorite of ours. We started eating here for dinner or after school almost every weekend, for about 3 years now. It was cheap for the quality of simple yet delicious diner food. But it's usually pretty quiet in the evenings— (we learned the hard way to avoid it during the mornings where the line is out the door.) —a steady stream of customers usually taking things to-go. Which I don't get, a big part of this place being great is the aesthetic. It reminds me of a 70s diner and most likely opened then. Yellow booths, a jute box always playing great oldies music, kinda ugly wallpaper, and warm lighting. And the store owner is a really nice guy. He usually brings his grandkids. It's always funny when you get rung up by a 10-year-old or have your water refilled by a 7-year-old. Since we have been coming for so long so often, the owner has a special discount for us "I've got to treat my best customers right!"  he always says I'm pretty sure it's just a %10 student discount. We usually tip as much much as we can.

I snapped back into reality when I heard my name. I didn't really know who it came from.

"What?" I said shacking my head out of the clouds.

"We were asking about the van. Summer break is almost here, when is Caroline gonna be ready?" Ned asks

"Oh right, I would say just in time for school to let out." I say.

We have been planning our summer break since school started this year. It will be our last summer vacation ever, so it had to be epic. I always get excited butterflies from it, but it is usually mixed with dread too. Dread because I know when I get home my parents will be officially divorced. Not that I haven't known this was coming or that it needs to happen. It definitely does, I have a cup bruise on the side of my head to prove it.

No, nope stop! I feel my eyes watering. Internally I let out a big sigh. This summer vacation has to be perfect. I don't know what I will do if it's not.

"Alright let's go over the plans one last time," Peter says.

I smile reaching into my purse, and pull out a small, light pink, piece of paper. 1-10 lists of things we need to do while we are in California. We had decided a beach trip is definitely what we need.

I clear my throat and begin to read.

1. start off at Stark Tower to go over things with Tony such as Hotels, food reservations, and tickets

Did I mention all of this was Peter's early birthday gift from TS himself. We are all pretty jazzed. And by that I mean we about shit our pants when Peter told us.

2. head out across the country stopping at the finest Tony Stark hotels (hotels with penthouse suites that Tony has frequent so much he just straight up bought the hotels.)

3  get to LA and check out our crib

4. beach

5. Disney Land

6. More beach

7. eat at a super fancy restaurant

8. ruins of Mr. Stark's Malibu mansion

9. Santa Monica Pier

10. hike to the Hollywood sign

It was a packed summer for sure, but it had to be the best, it just had to be. My last slice of happiness before I move away with my mom, before I move from Queens to which ever relative my mom decides to move close to. Away from all of my friends, who are more of a family then my real ones. Who have gotten me through so much, stuck by my side through it all. And even feeling upset makes me feel like I'm a monster. I want to support my mom, but I don't want this! I don't want to be away from them. Away...I hate that word.

"You ok La?" Ned asks  his hand rests on my back, lightly rubbing it.

My cheeks grow warm with embarrassment- I was crying. And of course Ned's kind questioning made more tears flow. I quickly wipe my eyes with my sleeve, and give a quick fake smile to my friends. They look concerned, except Peter. He looks almost angry, this made me cry more. Amazing.

"Yeah I'm fine. I-uh-i yawned." I stammer, I yawned wtf, who would believe that?!

"What the hell Lani?! No one's yawns make them cry that much." Michelle said, her voice rose she was almost laughing at the dumb lie that came out of my mouth. But I knew she was just concerned.

Ned quickly drops his hand from my back, my head instinctively turning towards him. He's looking at Peter.

"I'm fine I, I-just." I paused. I had told them about my parents getting a divorce, but not much. More importantly, I hadn't told them I was moving, and I wasn't planning on it till the trip is over. If they knew it would just ruin the whole trip for me. Not to mention I was so scared to even say it out loud, it would just make it seem more real. I tried my hardest to not think about it ever. Yea I know it's is unhealthy, but it's how I'm coping now. Might as well let future Lani deal with it.

"It's just my parents divorce, it's getting close to the last of all the court stuff. I just, can't stop thinking about it." My face continued the hot embarrassed sensation. I felt my under arms tingle and I could feel their eyes in me. My eyes stayed glued on my hands like my left depended on it.

There was a small pause. Oh gosh this is embarrassing.

"Lani, no madder what, you will always have us. We love you." Michelle finally said. Her tender words caught me off guard.

I looked back at her, giving a genuine smile "Thanks, that means a lot."

But the little voice in the back of my mind kept screaming Except they won't always be there for you.

"Are you guys ready to order?" We all jumped a bit as the waiter had finally returned to serve us. She placed each of our drinks in front of us.

After we ordered I had asked if we could just forget I said anything, what I needed was a fun night with my friends. They all agreed and once Ned had brought up The Joker, a new conversation sprung. I was just happy to not discuss anything family related.

___

Once we had all gotten and eaten our food, we decided to head to the movie theater to watch The Joker.

"Ok how about Peter pays for drink, Ned pays for Popcorn, and Lani pays for the tickets?" Michelle suggests as we walk into the theater.

"Um, that's convenient, seeing as you pay for nothing." Said Peter, slightly annoyed "and we should all pay for our own tickets, they are too expensive for Lani to pay for alone."

Michelle give a little snicker before we all decide it was every man for himself/herself.

I walk up to the counter, and smile brightly at the young man at the register. "Four tickets for The Joker, please and thank you."

"Sorry The Joker is sold out." He replies in a monotone voice.

"What?!" Ned exclaimed "but- I just checked online like 5 hours ago."

"Sorry The Joker is sold out" he repeats in the same voice. I don't blame him, he has probably had to say this so many people tonight.

"Hey, guys it's fine we can just pick another movie!" I say trying to lift their spirits.

"It 2 is out." Michelle offers.

Oh no

"Yeah I'm down" says Ned.

Oh no

"Yeah me too" says Peter.

Shit

Three pairs of eyes look at me. I give a sheepish smile. I get scared very easily, they know this, but I'm willing to take one for the team... even if it means I won't sleep for a few da-weeks. "Yes, let's go see It 2" I say in a fake enthusiastic tone.

I turn back to the man at the register "um, four for... It 2 please."

___

The theater is completely empty, which makes it about 1099999373783298xs more scary. It's a pretty popular movie so the rows of seats absent of people makes it feel like the twilight zone. We look around, deciding to sit in the far back.

I see Peter hanging back, walking slowly behind us. Strategically, I begin to slow my pace; slipping behind MJ to sit beside Peter. If there is anything that will distract me from the killer clown, it's Peter. We enter the row and settled in. And Peter grabs my hand.

[fellow-traveller]

This is gonna be long, so if you don't have the time to read it, it's cool, I'll summarise it like this:

I think I'm back. Kinda. Expect some blasts of Hol Horse fanart that I missed sharing here since November 2023 (if you followed my Twitter/X, you might have seen them)

Okay, I know excuses can be bad but here's mine to kinda justify my absence.

I admit that I had been feeling depressed with what's happening in P@lest1ne for the past 6 months, because I had never seen it happening in real time, in videos and interviews. 20+ years ago, anything about them came in the form of stories from actual P@lest1nians whom I had the privilege to meet during my volunteer work in school, and newspaper articles from local publishers. Our local broadcasters still chant FTRTTS whenever they talk about them. But the real-time atrocities and the aftermath really got me hard. I'm not one to shy away from real-life gore - true crime is my go-to documentary whenever I'm relaxing - but what's happening there - the injustice, the brutality, the depravity - can be too much for me to bear.

I'm not saying I'm used to it by now...I still hear my heart break with every dead and hungry child I see on my screen, but at the same time, I feel a bit more hopeful. Mainly because I believe in the P@lest1nians' faith and resilience, and I believe in mine.

Apart from world events, on a personal level, my company moved to a new building in December, about an extra 30 minutes drive away from my home, so I was almost on a blackout from online stuff back then. Didn't even touch the 1 Day 1 Hol Horse challenge (but thankfully they are done now...will share them later). The move-out was done around the end of January 2024, and then I got busy again with work in February. Work had been very hectic because everything had been disorganised since the move. Even now, we don't really have internet in the new building and had to use our phone data for that.

Wanted to get back last month, but delayed it until today because my cat was sick with cancer. My cat, little Vee, whom I had for 12 years, just passed 2 days ago, 1 day before my birthday ;-;

Anyway, all that said, I think I'm ready to be back now on tumblr. I know I missed a lot of drawings that I kinda promised myself to finish (like the Halloween Hol), and also posting the 1 Day 1 Hol Horse doodles. I missed other people's Hol Horse and HolPol fanart as well. I also have a few thoughts I wanted to share of our favourite JoJo cowboy too...

So in the next few hours, I'll be doing just that. I apologise for the massive spam that's about to come beforehand. Just note that if you cannot wait for the fanart blast, you're welcomed to dig for them on my Twitter/X.

On current notes, I'm in the middle of doing The Emperor Month Challenge. Basically, Hol Horse with the other Part 3 characters. I missed 2 days now, but I'll be catching up. This will be on until the end of this month.

For now, I won't be doing requests/art trades because I wanna start drawing for my JoJo OCs. I have been neglecting them for months.

Hopefully the depression will simmer down. The world is a mess, and I'm trying to soldier on.

Oh, and to my Muslim followers, Happy Eid-ul-Fitr. ♥

[popculturebuffet]

Sam and Max Devil's Playhouse Retrospective: They Stole Max's Brain! (Patroen Review for WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy Lagomorphs and those asking what the hell's a lagomorph, it's time once again to return to the yawning horrifying void of fun that is Sam and Max: The Devil's Playhouse. I realized after finishing this chapter that.. it's almost over. This isn't the end for me covering sam and max: I intend to find some way to play the road at some point, there's plenty of the show and comics left.. but it's still the end of a project that's spanned two years, and even when not reviewing Sam and Max for the bulk of this year, I still was checking feverishly to see WHEN I could. I'm really going to miss these games, their characters and the not so ambigously gay duo themselves.

Still before we get to the thrilling conclusion we still have three terrifying chapters left, two of which i'll cover next month thanks to scheduling stuff, and this one.

They Stole Max's Brain is a weird one gameplay wise. Story wise Sam going on a noir rampage, teaming up with an ancient egyptian pharoah to defeat a psychic space gorilla and an immortal servant of an elder god , and then Max having to find some way to save reality from said pharoah warping it to his mad designs by breaking the law and stabbing a child in the brain.. is a pretty normal day for the freelance police.

It's setup continues Devil Playhouse's experimentation though as each of it's three acts, with the natural closed in climactic set piece, switches up the formula. The first has you as a vengeful sam who rather than gather items and stuff violently threatens, pummels and cliches his way through things, the second is almost buisness as usual but feels distinctly off as it's not max in max's body, and the final act, while having sam stil be the one who grabs stuff as max is down a body, has Max as our main POV character this time instead of a wise cracking sidekick, eating machine and psychic plot device.

The result is a decent chapter if the weakest so far. It's long and unlike the previous two chapters a LOT of hte puzzles are more obstuse. I mean you try figuring out you need to have max become a stormcloud so an old man can't kneel and gets taken away for treason. Thankfully as always a guide was useful here, and the writing is sharp as eve rwith only the third act dragging a bit. I"ll explain why when we get there but for now we turn the curtain to find out whose the they in THEY STOLE MAX'S BRAIN!

Act 1: Sampage

We continue devil's playhouse's tradition of picking up where we left off. In this case Sam finds Max's body sans brain and snaps. Regular Sam is taking this part of the chapter off... meet Noir Sam.

On paper i'ts just sam in a blind rage without a hat or jacket. In practice.. Noir Sam is TERRIFYING. Not kidding, not joking, this version of Sam creeps me out. It's unsettling seeing easily one of the nicest characters in this franchise, not a high bar but eh, a guy who while certainly having violent tendencies and doing some questoinable things is ulatimely a decentt person in a violent rage where all he can do, and you the player can have him do is yell, threaten or press people. It works on Flint Paper, a noir parody who in the past taught Sam how to be a hardboiled no good, because Flint while ultra violent has Sam's affablility. But Sam in this state is just agressive, his face in a snarl and the targets of his wrath either innocent people who simply slipped up, or low rent hoods. You spend close to an hour trapped with a sam who is on a vengeful rampage, a sampage if you will, rather than the chill if mildly unstable dog we all know and love. He's baring his teeth, he's angry in his delivery and the only real levity is from his supsects and his rambling noir monologues you can optionally do.

It is great character stuff as this chapter shows WHY the two need each other. It's not as simple as "they keep each other from burning the world down". It is however as simple.. as Max makes Sam happy. Sam has to likely constantly pay for bail and keep gasoline far from the office, but it's clear he geninely enjoys bantering with his common law husband: the adventure, the violence, the joys. It's just not as fun without someone to share it with. And as this show sam without any joy in his life.. is just a hyperfocused monster who will gladly point a gun at ANYONE who he's supscious of, beat them up if possible and genuinely scares people. At his lowest he points his gun at Carol who has done nothing wrong to anyone. She's just working a tad slow because old computer. It lifts up the hat to show beneath the joy Sam without max is just a sad broken man who will destroy anything it takes to get max back. And given where this story is going... it makes what's going to happen that much worse.

So noir sam interogates a few perps: first are the mole cultists who between chapters I honestly forgot were literally in the next room this whole time. They were gassed though sam finds out one did see it he was just afraid. He gives sam the rhinoplasty toy as an apology and reveals, shockingly early, who done did it: General Skunkape. He somehow escaped the Penal zone and is back for revenge.

So Sam continues his Sampage beating up three diffrent crooks and this section playing blind can get repittive as it asks you to just. .use every dialouge wheel until you get everything and unlike usual where you get a LOT of good jokes to make that fun here Sam's just beating up people. It's not bad at first as the sheer shock of seeing sam this terrifying coupled with the few jokes here are work but after a while the going back and forth and trying to find just the righ tanswer gets tiring. Thankfully by that point you'l lhave got it so i'ts not horrible , just not really for me.

The three suspects are

Skunkape's Minon: one of his minons who now works as a sign spinner and is trying to turn straight. He saw Skunkape but lies about it, but swears he's off the serving him... he just left it out because old times sake. He gives you some evidence.

Frankie the Rat: Who with a tourist saw the fight and is introduced.. just now. Why Jimmy didn't come back from his vacation for this role is beyond me. I suspect they wrote Jimmy out.. then realized they needed a weasly character and just reused the rat model. Frankie was scammin g a tourist, sending him down a crime ridden alleyway when they both saw a fight betwen Skunkape and a weird man in a suit. Who could it be now?

The Tourist: Finally we have a european tourist who just seems confused and is a hoot to watch> he stole a souvineer he tearfully gives back but is otherwise a nice guy

With these and one of the most horrible acts he's ever done, which given we sent a child to hell last game really says a lot, Sam gets all he needs to get to the museum. Good news he finds max, meaning he drops the noir stuff before my heart gives out.

Bad news... Max is being used by Skunkape to draw all the toys of power to the museum... and he's not alone. As it turns out the suited gentleman is the museum's curator and our big bad from last time Monsieur Paperwhite! While I didn't know he returned this chapter, and it was a plesant suprise, it was still nice to see him. And to make matters worse the two hate sam: Skukape for obvious reasons and Paperwhite for what his ancesotr did: so they come to an agreement: Skunkape gets the galaxy, Paperwhite gets the world and both send Sam running away.

Max now ab rain in a jar with a REALLY neat looking display of his mouth.

It looks really neat adn the broth was recollered green for the remaster. That last part isn't super important but it looks REALLY cool.

Paperwhite is alive.. somehow. HOw isn't really explained and seems like it will be later if at all, and consolidated power building a museum to yog sogoth while he waited.

Act 2: Night at the Museum

So now we need ot sever this alliance on the outside. Problem is Sam is just (counts) one man and has more problems when he meets the museum's janitor SAL. Sal.. is great, having a voice that reminds me a lot of patrick warburton, down to the casula demenaor, being happy to see sam, only wanting Max's corpse removed because it's his job, and generally chill. He's also indeed the sam Sal Girl Stinky shouted at for all of Beyond Time and Space. He's also a giant roach and I loves him. He's the best.

Thankfully the exibit has a free brain handy, the preserved brain of Sammun Mak, the pharoah whose tomb Sameth and Maximus raided, and turns out to be a tyrannical little boys who talks fondly of his slaves suffering, of murdering people and generally really isn't THAT far off from max. His voice is weird coming out of max but the dynamic is similar enough to the usual, if still keeping me off ballance: it's very weird to hear someone else make the punchilnes sam would and to hear max's body calling sam a pesant.

Our hero and guest drop into Paperwhite's office via the courtsey phone and spy him talking to a mysterious master, a "Professor Norrington". I know who it is and the clues are obvious, but i'm still curious WHY he's here and how he and Paperwhite escaped the toybox.

For now the main goal is to end this union and there's two tasks to do that. You can do them in either order and the first.. is a bit complex and i'm not sure I woudl've gotten it on my own. One of Skunkapes hired goons

Is blocking the entrance so we need to get him and sal to fight each other. Thankfully we can now finally use the putty after being built up for two episodes, and the use, while obtuse is very clever: you turn sammun mak into a model of new york using plans on paperwhites desk. Then using a mdoel of the future, i..e. yog sogoth kiling everybody, you turn it, and have the gorilla attack the city.. well mostly Sammun Mak pisses the gorilla off enough to shoot. Then it's a smiple matter of using a tourguide headset to get sal to poke a monkey in the eyes.

Paperwhite is pissed at this, and that gives us another opening as rather than the usual three, it only takes two actions to push him over. This one is also thankfully way simiplier and way more fun. Using th eputty on a zeplin painting Sammun Mak becomes a zeplin and begins a trend of the rhinoplasty forms having max's face on them. Sortta like a ditto. It's adorable and looks fantastic. It also means we can blow Sammun Mak up real good to destroy a tapestry papperwhite likes, framing the ape for it and exploding these mega powers.

Unforuntely... Sam made a huge tactical error. He made an uneasy alliance with a power mad child and didn't think to you know.. tie him up or something. I mean all the talk of murder, petty revenge, slave whippings you'd think it'd sink it but no: So Sammun Mak takes the toys for himself and thus ALL OF THE POWER MUHAHAHAHAHAHA and Sam only thinks to run.. after it's already too late, disappearing in a flash of white

Act 3: Worship Like an Egyptian

So the good news: that white flash wasn't the anti monitor destroying the unvierse. Bad news, it was Sammun Mak recreating it in his own image. Max wakes up in a new reality where everything is ancient eygypt themed, everyone worships Sammun Mak and Max never had a body. Everything else.. is the same to the point Sam recalls the chapter so far.. but then gets dizzy. Shoddy worldbuilding there Sammun Mak.

And this is our final twist on the formula: While Sam and Max have always been a team supreme, i'ts Sam usually doing most of the legwork while Max makes funny jokes and plots to burn it , burn it all. Max is never UNIMPORTANT and it's never treated like their anything else but equals, but in terms of gameplay focus we're playing Sam most of the time even with the toys of power addition. Sam is our pov character, our self insert, our guide into this strange world... and in this chapter.. he' sa brainwashed puppet of the state whose drunk all the kool aid and who Max has to hide his true intentions from. He's not an antagonist and he's unknowingly working towards our goal but h'es not the one driving the plot or making the plans like Sam tends to. Max is. Max is forced to figure out how the hell to right this world and I love how he's not happy about it. He does well but it's very clear even he thinks him being in charage of the thinking means he's screwed.

And he would be.. but thankfully he's not the only one who remembers the world that was. Doctor Norrington contacts Max, who writes it off as psychic stuff and has a plan: meet with the rebels against Sammun Mak, get the brain screw, an ancient egyptian brain removal thing we saw in the museum earlier, from them and get close enough to sammun mak they can use it.

Finding the rebels is easy: simply go down to the sewers and boom. They are a random moleman who might be harry.. and to my shock and suprise, the mole teenage girl from the last chapter, now a wise elder. I also like how Max distracts sam by just.. having him pray to sammun mak, so we get all the dialouge. The moles are prosecuted as like max they were immune to the reality change. Likely due to their magic or something. Max isn't explained but I assume it's either his previous natural mind control resitance or more likely given it also worked on Sam who still would have his hat, it's the fact all the maxs of the multiverse are linked up mentally. With that kind of backup his brain just can't be changed. or it's a toys of power thing. Honestly we get no explination but ther'es enough sitting there that you never question which one it has to be. Max's mind is messed up enough for anything to be the reason. it might just be he was thinking of roast ham. We'll neve rknow

What we do know is to actually TALK to Sammun Mak via his advisor Paperwhite, we need three accesories of privlage. Paperwhite is keeping a horrifying orwellion watch on the populus which means those who toady well enough get a shiny badge to show off how cool they are.

It also requires at times futzing with how fickle this kid is: an endearing thing about Sammun Mak is , as a hyperactive child, not helped by max's naturally hyperactive body, it's easy to switch what he thinks is good and bad. As such by using the laser lights of the museum's plantiarum, his current base, you can make him want something and acept it as his faviorite gift, and by having max transform into something and knock over his pyramid of corn dogs, you can get him to hate it. Also sammun mak really likes corn dogs and has the Stinky's endlessly working to provide him with some.

So to get these badges we need to ruin some lives. No matter how much reality changes there are just some constants to being in the freelance police you know? So first we need to sell out grnadpa stinky. This is the thundercloud puzzle I mentioned and while thundercloud max is the best and we need all the plusheies of him stat, this puzzle makes no sense. Thankfully it's target is grandpa stinky who while entertaining is so smug about his new badge and so unplesant selling him out dosen't feel bad. That and this being grandpa stinky nothing can kill him so I don't think sending him to prison is going to harm him. WIth that we get the calling out the hertic badge. Sadly we can't do this to girl stinky whose worse and also plans to date the chil demperoror when eh's old enough. Because apparently selling out the earth wasn't enough Stinky had to find a new way to be awful. Why she choose child grooming I have no idea.

The second requires little life ruining, just turning max into a toaster, having him destroy the corn dogs, then making toasters the greatest thing since the toaster company paid for a laser add back in the 90's. We simply give Max as a gift, he comes back somehow and asks us not to think about it and simple.

Finally we need the inquistion badge.. which I missed the explination on but since i'ts something bad the way to get it is off the rat, whose gambling with his cousins. The solution here is fun and thankfully brings back the future vision: their betting on gladiator fights, aka Sammunmak throwing molemen at Skunkape for his amusement, and since the outcomes predetermined to end in a pile of mole guts, they bet on his finisher instead, a clever way to bet on pro wrestling honestly. You simply have to think through the options, and pick the one none of the rats brings up angrily, and boom, you've ruined a man's life and gotten his shiny thing.

Before we close this act and this chapter I will say.. this act is the weakest of the three: Noir sam got annoying by the end, but is still a fun change of pace and it's shocking how terrifying they made sam, while still having JUST enough jokes. It got too grim at parts, but it's not too long. The middle section is fun, quick and breezy. This one.. drags out a bit and Sam being a toady for sammun mak gets old fast. Like Max you get tired of everyone saying hail sammun mak. This chapter drags way more than the last two, not helped by me being on a tight deadline on top of how dry it felt int he last act. it's one of the weaker chapters of the trilogy as a whole. It would've been better if it were JUST the first two acts and they extended the museum a bit, but they likely wanted it to match the other two chapters in length.

Still the finale is good at least. Sam does get close enough.. but the rebellion and max didn't think through the plan. Which for Max.. is fair. This usually isn't his bit. He gives cryptic hints, makes jokes, makes threats, gouges out eyes. He's not the planning one in this duo. The molepeople not thinking "gee maybe we should restrain sam" is on them. Sam stops the assination.. but refuses to kill the mole woman for it either. It's a fantastic moment and a nice contrast to the beginning: sam can go to low places when either blind with rage or brainwashed properly... but he won't kill an innocent person. Send a child to hell to solve a puzzle sure, but not kill an elderly person with a brain screw. He has some morals.

So he gets thrown in the fightin pit, where you have to ues Max's toys to get the put downs. Then simply put them in the right sequence, myf aviorite being the same one that you pick up from the future: Impliying paperwhite broke up with him. This distracts him enough to land on the mole cage, who grab himn and allow sam to beat him

Unfortuantely Sammun Mak isn't easily pleased and isnt' above floating in to finish this and Sam is still too indocrinated to fight back. The solution.. is incredibly clever and while I read it in the guide, unlike a lot of puzzles in this one it's INCREDIBLY well foreshadowed. In EVERY conversation you can give out the sammun mak's regular cheer in prayer or bow. So we have sam boy.. then give the salute.. still holdling the brain screw. Sammunmak is beat, and reality is restored. I love Sam's blaise reaction to it too "Did we under go one of those reality warping things?" and his disapointment he didn't get to do much. So Sammun Mak is removed, Max is restored.. and i'ts just about cliffhanger o clock as paperwhite comes running back in from Sam..s pecifically a bunch of near naked sam clones clad in rocky horror style briefs who surround our heroes

As I made clear this chapter is wonky, the first act almost running out it's welcome, the second being good fun and the third running longer than needed and feeling tacked on. The finale and the final puzzle are satisfying as hell, but it feels like they planned for an extra chapter that never happened and had to glue it onto this one. The result is messy. It's a disapointment in a game that's easily been my faviorite of the three.

Next Time: evil Dolls! Scantily clad sams! other stuff! See you in december