#tick Jefferson

[lasersight]

Baccanovember 2024 Day 27 - Cut/Connection

[saintgatsbys]

autistic hitmen with hot wives crossover

[gunmeister]

day 27 of baccanovember !!!! today's fic is a short one about tick jefferson, following the prompt "cut". this one has some pretty uncomfortable descriptions of scissors being used on people so don't read if that'd fuck you up hahahaha.

[inputanimeoutput]

3, 9, and 15 for the b! ask game! ^^

3. Favorite character? Least favorite?

Claire is my absolute favorite. I have a thing for assassins in media in general. You give me a series where at least half the cast are assassins in some right, you know I have many favorites already. Claire is just something else though. His solipsism is just so fascinating as is his sense of morality and justice. I also appreciate his relationship with Chane, and Chane is one of my favorites as well.

Also love the throwaway line that Claudia has in the cruise ship arc that insinuates Claire (in his 80s at the very least) is on a deep sea dive to get a sword from a sunken pirate ship for his and Chane's anniversary as a gift. It's just a perfect example of how the gears in his mind work. Also, get you a man who will dive to the bottom of the ocean for a pretty sword to give to you on your anniversary, apparently!

As for least favorite, right now it's that b-tch Melvi. Hate that guy right now. I'm sure something will happen in canon, and I'll wind up loving him, but right now, I hate him. Hate that I need the next volume but am not getting it because of the stupid Fate franchise. I also hate Fermet, but I feel like that's by design.

9. Character you’d like to see more of?

As much as I'd love to see more of Claire...and I would take any Claire morsels that I could be given...I honestly want to see more of Tick. We got backstory and stuff for him, but I wanna see more of him with the Gandors.

15. Which character makes you the most emotional?

I obviously have a soft spot for Czes, but honestly, the two characters that make me the most emotional are Miria and Maiza. I absolutely adore Miria, and the novel arc where she's separated from Isaac shows just how absolutely intelligent and grounded she really is. By the same token, it shows the same for Isaac. It gets me.

Then there's Maiza, who is just a solidly good guy, and the whole connections everyone has with him and that he maintains with everyone, including the fault he blames on himself, it just is very loaded and makes me feel things.

[esperanzacboronial]

Happy Baccano! Week!!!

Day 1: Connections, fate and coincidence

The links between people aren't cut that easily. They don't have any form, just like air, so you can't cut them even if you tried...

[idontthinkimokaymentally]

Hello there Tick Jefferson fans.

[neorhythm]

This was made with the original set but it didn't quite fit with the other comic. But I still wanted to try and include it somehow.

maria and tick were way cuter than i anticipated. then we have good ol' tim still holding a grudge for the ratatouille incident. despite everything he still wants tick onii-san to notice him 😔

here's a compilation of doodles i made after finishing volume 7 of Baccano! had a lot of fun drafting these up, so i went back and colored everything. Ronny is a funny guy. showing up to the function and just kicking back. thanks man. knew we could count on you.

Based on my tweet from a while back. would love to doodle again after finishing volume 8, but we'll see

[browsethestacks]

The Thrilling Aventure Hour

Art by Dustin Weaver

[chloepleasestopdying]

You know I see a lot of posts about how if Nathan got the help he needed he might not have done all the stuff but like…. That dude was DEEPLY fucked up lmao. Like I think people are kinda underestimating how fucked up Nathan was.

Jefferson might have pushed him- but the dude wasn’t exactly forced into helping him. He was persuaded, yes maybe even groomed, into participating but my sympathy of that fact ended when he never told anyone about Rachel. He knew Rachel was dead, he knew where she was, he knew that doing what they were doing could kill people and he did it AT LEAST two more times- once completely on his own!

I don’t know if Nathan would have actually been fine with help. Maybe he would have! But that dude was a ticking time bomb before Jefferson got a hold on him. To me it really does sound like he just influenced how he expressed it.

[drfeelgreed]

tag drop 001.

purchase. / edith carmine. use. / begg garrott. collapse. / roy maddock.

joy anger sorrow FUN. / maiza avaro. joy anger SORROW fun. / czeslaw meyer. JOY anger sorrow fun. / sylvie lumiere. joy ANGER sorrow fun. / nile. (smile.) / elmer c. albatross.

oil drum. / dallas genoard. flowers and dominos. / isaac dian. spear and knives and japanese katanas. / adele. rain and a letter and scissors and love and... / tick jefferson. documents and information. storm and terrorists. / rachel jones. the lethal weapons' lunacy is elated. / christopher shaldred. red eyes and red hair. / claire stanfield. slash. / maria barcelito.

[closedcoffins]

" don't catch a cold out there. wear a jacket. " | to tick ?

"Thank you, Mr. Luck!"

He's not easily cold, but as if on reflex, he turns around and unhooks a certain coat from the coat hanger by the door. It's very clear that the coat sees little use, but it does belong to Tick---though he hadn't bought it himself.

If Luck isn't here, Tick generally goes without the coat, but he understands from a rational standpoint that Luck will probably worry about him if he doesn't have it.

Sliding his arms through the slightly-too-long sleeves and making sure his scissors don't catch on the fabric, Tick takes a second to straighten it out. If he didn't, Lukc probably would, though it doesn't matter to him.

In any case, it'll probably get ruffled up again, where he's going.

"I'll be back laaaater! Bye!"

misc. sentences. / accepting.

[lasersight]

[neonovember]

hiiii

could you write carmy x reader where she’s a high school friend and carmy always had a crush on her (but he thought she had a crush on mikey) ???? like maybe richie brings her up, and that she’s still in town and SINGLE and carmy gets red like a tomato and ??? richie makes her visit the beef and candy almost has a heart attack?? idk give me some in love carmen !!

pretty pleaseee and thank u

so I got this request and I immediately thought of swim by chase atlantic, and specifically the line that goes;

“I’ve been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in” 

And holy shit if that isn’t Carmen in his denial-in-love with a long time friend era, I don't know what is. Carmen tries too hard to forget you, but you've marked permanently, you've ruined him for anyone else so can you blame him for waiting for you all this time?

Seriously though this request was so good! I got a bit carried away and turned into a 2 part series that may or may not have drabbles added to the universe…I really hope this isn't just a load of word vomit you don't want to read lmao. I just love their dynamic so much, and also FRIDAY DINNERS AT THE BEEF IS CANON OKAY.

Golden Boy

part one of 2

warnings: miscommunication (i know i'm sorry), friends to lovers, carmen and the reader have horrible communication skills and don't know how to call, angst, anxiety

a/n: part two will be up hopefully tomorrow so look out! it may or may not include a smut scene 😈

p.s, listen to swim whilst reading this you'll thank me later

You sat hunched in the tight enclosure of the classroom desk chairs, the once loud conversations fluttering across the huddled groups of classmates and friends that stood against tables and chairs now coming to a standstill.

The air of anxious trepidation falls across the atmosphere of the damp classroom, the windows that had been opened to let the air in felt thin as you and the rest of the students you had known for half a decade waited for that familiar ring of the bell.

The bell that would solidify your last day in this classroom, in these run down halls, in the school you had first stumbled into anxious and oblivious at thirteen. 

Your heart ached at the nostalgia of it, and you can't bear to cast your gaze to your friends who had begun to sniffle, like they were holding back tears, the grandfather clock your geography teacher insisted on keeping ticked on as it always did, and whilst you had spent years burning holes through the glass, willing for it to go faster, your one dying wish is for the seconds to tick by in minutes. 

You weren’t ready, it ran straight through you, all this time leading up, from when you had first learnt your desire to pursue architecture till the moment you finished that last sentence on your final exams, you felt you would be filled with joy at the sound of your true departure into adulthood and college.

And yet, you felt like a kid again, learning how to ride a bicycle without the training wheels, trying to reach the fifth monkey bar, falling headfirst into the dirt ground of the field when you had thought you were more flexible then you truly were. 

You didn’t want to leave, you didn't want to leave this place, this place of memories and friends and people you knew and loved. And it was as if God was listening, cause the resounding echo of the school bell rang through the halls and it was as if he said ‘fuck you anyway’.

You gather the haphazard books and papers laying across your desk, you had purposefully delayed packing in order to waste as much time in this memory as possible, before adulthood would take it away and make it something of the past. You hear your friends calling your name, and you tell them to go ahead as you make your way to your teachers desk.

“Hey Mr Jefferson” You say to your teacher has begun to bid goodbye to the leaving students

Your teacher looks up at you with a tight smile, sadness washes over the wrinkles and creases of her features, her auburn hair falling in short waves at her shoulder and her olive lipstick wearing down. You have to swallow to stop the tears from dropping. Your Geography teacher, whilst not teaching Art, had been the catapult to realizing your fascination with Architecture and design. She had even helped tell your parents, who had been set on the idea of you going into Law or Medicine or anything other than creative arts. 

“You’ll do amazing, I believe it because I see how hard you try. Don’t look back at this place, leave with the door wide open and come back only when you want to design me a house” Your Teacher replies with a grin, and before you can reply shes shuffling through her drawers, before pulling out a sketchbook that has been aged and stained with use over the years.

“What’s this?” You ask, twisting the book in your hand, it was good quality, despite being old, it felt like an heirloom.

“It’s one of my sketchbooks I had during college, maybe some of my late night sketches fuelled by coffee and donuts might inspire you”

“I couldn't possible-”

“Yes you could, hell whatever you create will probably be 10 x greater than whatever is in there” Your teacher cuts you off with a chuckle, and you hug the notebook tight against your chest before hugging her goodbye.

You step into the familiar walls of your high school hallways, crowds of seniors running to find their friends and hug them for possibly the last time, test papers and report cards left trampled on the ground, it's chaos, but you love it and the sight almost pulls tears down your waterline.

You walk towards your locker, before you recognize the familiar wisps of blond curls catch your eyesight. Carmen.  You considered him one of your closest friends, bonding together over a love of game** and your equal hatred of your Period 4 Calculus teacher.

Carmen didn't have much when I came to be friends, and after he met you, it didn't really get to him anymore, he had you now, and you were more than enough. Over the years you had gotten close to every part of Carmen's life, Mickey, Richie, Sugar, they were all people you regarded as family.

But there was something unsaid between the both of you, it was like there was something beyond friendship, but the embers had just gathered and had left unignited.

He’s gathering his things from his locker, shoving them into a bag in that messy way he is, and he slams the locker with a jolt.

You're standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, classmates and other seniors running by you in confusion, your friends calling your name annoyed, but it's all muffled, it all doesn't matter because it's Carm and god your heart aches so bad. 

You see Carmen and he sees you, stopping a few meters away from you, and a moment of recognition washes over him as he gazes with those cerulean blues. There's grief in the way you look at each other, tears streaming down your cheek as you try to smile at him, realising this might be the last time you see him, forever, off to an Art school in New York, leaving him behind. You feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest and he shakes his head, his eyebrows scrunching up as he steps closer so that he’s only a whisper from you.

He brings his hand up, brushing a strand and tucking in behind your ear, eyes strained as he wipes your tears away painfully. He moves closer, so that his breath is against your neck and whispers

“Thought you told me you'd punch me in the stomach if I cried on the last day” Carmen whispers into your eyes with a grin that breaks through the tears that cause his eyes to swirl in colour's of waves.

His words make you laugh and cry at the same time, and you shake your head as you reach for his arm, and playfully hit your stomach with it. Carmen rests it against your waist, looking up to you in a pained expression, his eyes shift to the notebook grasped tight in your hands

“New sketchbook? That..doesn't look new” Carmen says, turning his head to examine the old book more closely.

“One of Mrs Jefferson’s, her sketches are..their fucking amazing” You sigh, running your hand across the folded spine of the sketch book.

“Thought teachers weren't meant to have favourites” Carmen shoots out, a playful grin on his lips

“Hmm, well they aren't supposed to tell you exactly” You banter with a giggle, you flick through the pages of the book, half drawn sketches in grey lead and ballpoint, Carmen tracing his fingers gently across the ingrained lines and shades.

“God you're something, you know that?” Carmen says, all of a sudden, and when you look up you realise he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“Bear..” You breathe out.

“I don't know how I'm going to-, I, it's all so much” You exhale, waving your arms around this place that has held so many memories, so much of your past kept in the creaks and cracks of plastered walls and lockers

“You're the only person in this goddamn place that's going to make something out of themselves, I bet my entire life on it Bug. You're going to do amazing, in that big city, you’re going to show em’' Carmen replies, grasping you against his touch tight. You look up at him, trying to memorise every dip and curve of his features, the curl of his hair that shone honey in the sun, those eyes that were always searching, and the small cut on his forehead where he fell off his skateboard that one summer evening.

“Don’t say goodbye”

“Okay” Your tongue feels like deadweight in your mouth. what if i never see you again?

“You say goodbye and it's the end. Just..don’t” I can't breathe carmy.

You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pressing your nose into his shirt to smell the scent of patchouli and cigarettes he always carried, you want to tell him to come with you, to pack an overnight bag and run with you forever, but the words don’t taste right when you try to speak and you see yourself letting him go, and turning away with a shaky step.

Turn back Carmen whispers, so softly that only the gods above and the wind around him can hear it

You feel an urge to turn back, it speaks to you from within, and before you can stop yourself, your neck cranes, turning your body to get one last look at your golden boy before time would take him forever. 

Time would age him into a memory forever.

Carmen feels this tension leave his shoulders at the same time his heart shatters, you will find each other again, even if it was in another universe, where you're sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, going over groceries together with the afternoon light casting its glow across you. He will find you, he will find you and he won’t let go this time. 

*

“Honestly Ma, it’s fine, I’ll get the movers to come in a little early”. You groan into the phone pressed to your ear, papers and unresolved bills are left scattered across your dining room table and you have this itch that's begun to turn chronic somewhere you can’t reach.

You take a moment to look around your apartment, now barren of furniture, and filled instead with boxes of badly organised stuff you've accumulated over the years. This place, albeit small, had been your home ever since you stepped out of the yellow cabbed taxi on your first day in New York, and whilst it wasn't pretty, you felt a pang of guilt leaving it all behind. These walls had seen you through it all, the late night study cram’s, the breakdowns, the accomplishments, the one night stands. You'd miss her, but maybe you were just a nostalgic person.

You’ve made a life in New York, but you felt misplaced, like pieces of yourselves were scattered across the states. Chicago kept a part of you, and it was only when you had gotten the chance to move back home, did it click. You missed your city. And you had cut your lease and emptied out the last of your savings without a second thought.

Now all that was left was tying up loose ends and making the trip down. It was funny, in a way. You had run to New York to pursue architecture, and it brought you back to the very same place you had left, there was a certain trepidation when you thought of Chicago, it held so much of your past, in its city streets and evergreen trees, and you don’t know if you were quite ready to face those memories again.

*

It still smelled the same. You itch your nose, sniffling against the blooming scent of cocoa and caramel from the Chicago roads, all this time, and all that you can tell is how it still smelt like maple leaves and chocolate. It was comforting, and it felt like the warm embrace of a childhood friend that had stayed sitting on the corner of your suburban street corner all this time.

“Thank you Mae, really, I got the call last minute in New York to come back here and if it weren't for you, I’d be moving back into my old bedroom at my parents” You reply, gratitude filling every word. It was true, your friend had swooped in the second you called, fixing you up with a lease and an apartment with her realtor links. She came in a clutch, and she had made you promise to never leave her again in exchange.

“Oh shush doll, of course. This is probably payment for all the times I’ve crashed at yours anyway” Mae winks, the bracelets on her wrist clinking against each other. She didn't look like a typical realtor, more like a bohemian solo-traveller with her filly skirts and auburn red hair.

“I’m not going to let a degree transform my entire wardrobe, my clothes are antiques, their heirlooms, they tell a story” 

She had told you once, one late night on the rooftop of your New York apartment, sipping cheap wine and passing a blunt between you both. You wish you had known yourself as much as she did then.

She had visited you a couple times in New York, coming up for work and spending the time at yours instead of spending thousands on an Airbnb, but it had been a while since you've seen her, and all of a sudden you remember how much you missed her laugh.

“I’ve got some time to spend before it’s all hand on deck” You reply, placing the last of your boxes onto the empty wooden floor of the living room.

“Oh yeah? Can’t believe you’re gonna design a whole building on Michigan Av’, your a fucking inspiration Bug” Mae sighs in adoration, and you giggle, the feeling of embarrassment filling you at the mention of your reason back home.

You never got used to the praise and adoration you received over the years, despite your many accolades and awards, you still felt like that hopelessly broke architect student giving up lunch to pay rent. You didn’t remember when things started to change. When did things start to change?

“You know, if you’ve got time, you should check out the Farmers Market near River North” Mae replies, whilst flicking through her phone

“The one on Division Street?” You reply, you had a faint memory of the long strip of stalls filled with fresh produce, food and the rest of the little trinkets that were sold since you were born on the pleated table cloth of sheltered booths.

“That’s the one, this guy named Samson? Makes the best fucking bearclaw in the entire United States. Tell him you're a friend of mine and he'll hook you up…you know since you can't afford it” Mae replies playfully, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you hook up with him or something?” You poke back, Mae had the tendency to know everyone in Chicago, from the mailman to the old woman you’d see feeding the bids on a park bench.

“Yeah, actually I did. Not like you could relate, how long has it been, hm?” Mae replies, stepping forward to whisper down at your pants.

“I’m so sorry she hasn't been taking care of you. What are you, mummify her?” Mae looks up from her crouched position with a raised eyebrow.

“Ugh, you know I've been too busy to think about that. She’s gonna have to be patient” You reply, you don’t want to think about how long it has actually been, since you've had any type of release. But the tension has begun to weigh on your shoulders as time went on and you fear it might become something you can’t ignore.

You begin to move some boxes into your bedroom, thanks to your planning your large furniture such as your bed and coach, had been moved into the apartment before the rest of the things had got here, so at least you wouldn't be sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Changing into a pair of dark jeans and a short sleeve top, you loop an embroidered handbag onto your shoulder.

“So, you coming?” You call to Mae, who’s begun to fill your fridge with the groceries she's swung by with.

“Sure would Bug, but got a call to come in. I’ll come by again later this evening though?” Mae replies, with a grunt as she lifts the 2 litre bottle of milk onto one of the drive shelves.

“Yes please, I’m dying for a glass of wine”

“And a blunt” Mae replies, snickering at the way you roll your eyes at her.

Mae offers to drop you off, but you wave her off, telling her you wanted to see a little more of your hometown. You needed some fresh air that wasn't the coffee and smoke scent of the New York streets.

The walk to the Farmers market was a short one, but you felt like you were wading through a current. By the way the memories of your past began to resurface as you passed the streets and shops. Every corner holds a part of you, and you have to rush by your old school to stop the pang of pain that surprises you. You weren't an emotional person, but god it was almost as if you were hanging by a thread the second you touched down on Chicago. 

What was causing this? You felt like you were holding your breath as you stepped through the fallen autumn leaves marking the sidewalk, the gentle sun on your back, what were you waiting for?

You tear yourself from your thoughts momentarily when you catch the looming buildings that had been built on ions ago, the infrastructure of Chicago still enamoured you, in a way that couldn't be beaten by even New York’s impossible skyscrapers.

There was a charm to it, each of the buildings felt like you were stepping into a different decade, they had been the stepping stones to a lot of the infrastructure and architecture that spread into other cities. You felt like you were at the start of it all every time your eyes trailed across the facade and arcades of the century old stone buildings.

Without realising, you had finally made it to the Farmers Market, the constant stream of people coming in and out with boxes of produce or hauling wooden antiques with very audible grunts. You can’t stop the smile stretching your face as you step through the embroidered banner at the front of the street.

Despite the many different stalls and food around you, you don't feel overstimulated. This was your home, you felt like you belonged, like a name scratched into wet cement, remaining ingrained for years no matter the seasons that came. 

You go over the haphazard list of things you wanted to look for in your mind, but you're caught off guard by a stall that seemed to be huddled by patrons. You step towards it, and as people move aside you see the blooming flowers and carefully wrapped banquets in woven wooden baskets to the side of the stall. A short woman with light brown curls is standing at the front, taking down orders with a grin, whilst a rather tall man behind her makes quick work to wrap delicate orders into soft brown parchment paper tied with string. 

And all of a sudden the need to buy pink tulips becomes your first priority. The woman at the front looks familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on where you've seen her, but as you walk up to the front her face morphs into familiar as she looks up at you in surprise.

“As I live and breathe” She says your name with a screech and it's her voice that pulls her name to your mouth. Adeline, a close friend from senior year who’d taught you how to crochet and pick a lock.

“Bug? How've you been? What brings you back to town?” Ade replies after telling the man behind her your order without you even saying a thing. 

“Tulips, pink ones right?” Ade grins, and you have to let out a chuckle at how you haven't changed even a little.

“Got invited to join in designing a new building on Michigan Avenue, so I'll be back for a while-”

“Michigan Avenue? Holy shit Bug! You’re making moves, knew you always were special” Adeline replies with a gushing smile and you rush to reply with the same adoration

“Are you kidding, look at this line” You motion to the increasing line of people forming at Adeline's stall.

“People love their flowers” Adeline replies with a shrug before you shake your head vehemently

“No, they love your flowers, and for good reason, look at these” You gush, pressing your face into the bundle of tulips that had been handed to you.

“They only look that good because Henry's so good at wrapping them” Adeline replies with a laugh, her eyes flicking to the brown haired man dressed in corduroy behind her. A look passes between them that tells you there was more than love between them.

“Henry huh?” You reply with a grin, and the man is quick to introduce himself, and you don’t ignore the cold press of an encrusted band on his ring finger as he shakes your hand with a soft smile.

And it's as if Adeline reads your mind and she slips her left hand in yours, looking up at you with a teary grin.

“Yes, yes I know, I should've called, and I’m so sorry-”

You press yourself against her, leaning over the stall to wrap your arms around her. You whisper words of congratulation, shutting down any words that hinted at you being mad at her.

It wasn't her fault, it should be you she's mad at, you hadn’t really made that much of an effort to keep in contact with your friends back at home, and the reality of it weighed on you heavy now, you had missed so many milestones of your loved ones, all to chase your own dreams in New York.

You felt like you were constantly playing catch up, and you couldn't lie when a strange feeling crept up at the thought of your friends moving on with life. You were so incredibly happy for Adeline, and you were even more elated when she had told you of the Wedding in April that you had to come to. 

But that didn't stop that same strange feeling of being behind everyone else, you had spent so long climbing the ladder to wear what you wear now, relationships and love weren't even a thought, you filled your nights with studying and drawing and the occasional fling, but nothing more. And now doubts had begun to creep in, had you missed out? 

Watching everyone around you get married and have kids whilst you were still drawing buildings in that same sketchbook your teacher had given you 8 years ago. You’re not looking as you walk past the many stalls of the Farmers market, and it is your thoughts again that causes you to accidentally stumble into the hard muscle of a man back. You feel yourself falling, before arm's reach out, grabbing you quickly to stop you from ending flat on your face. 

You breath out a sigh of relief, shaking a head at your clumsiness

“God, ‘m so sorry, I’ve just been in my head, I wasn’t looking where i was going-”

“Holy fuck” Your quick to spit an apologetic thanks, you haven't even looked up to see who you've dubbed into, and when the sound of surprise meets your ease you look up, only to be remain stone faced with your mouth left open.

“Richie?” You say, the shock of it is still in the air. You hadn't expected to see him in Chicago, or maybe you did and it was sooner than you thought.

“When did you get back? Holy shit, thought we wouldn't see you again” Richie replies with a smile

“Yeah uh, came down for some work for a little while. How, uh How are things” You reply with a squeak, you can’t bear to say what you're thinking and Richie nods, a look of acknowledgement in his face. Mickey’s death had shaken you, it had changed you in its own way, and you still grief him, it still hurts when Richie's face kinda falls and melts at the reminder of his best friend's death.

“After, uh, after Mickey, he had left the restaurant, you know, the Beef?” You nod in agreement, the hazy memory of the sandwich shop on the corner of Chicago's, busiest streets, you stomach rumbles at the thought of one of those sandwiches you'd down in less than a minute during your high school years.

“Yeah well, get this, he left it to Carmen. And honestly, I was hesitant at first, real hesitant, I love him, but god, he's a self centred ass coming in like he knew everything, spewing the bullshit CDC shit he learnt up in the big apple? He changed things, and you know how I feel about change, but he made it better, I can;t lie, and you better not tell him this, but the Beef actually..” Richie’s familiar rambles are muffled to your ears, the only thing you can hear is Carmen.

Everything zones out as you scrunch your eyebrows, wincing almost, at the pain and it shocks you, it shocks you how the very name of him still brings back those memories. You still hurt the same way you did the day you left him.

You must have looked out of it, as Richie shakes your shoulder, anchoring you back to the present, and you have to swallow back the bite of pain that bleeds through your chest.

“Did you hear what I said? The Beef’s holding a little family dinner tomorrow, shutting down the shop early, inviting only friends and family, it’ll be like a little reunion for you! You have to come” Richie replies, and you nod trying to seem present.

Carmen took over the Beef? He was in New York? What?

Your mind is scattered with the uproar of questions you have, the thought of Carmen, the memory of him is like a fresh wound. It un tethered and opens up a thread of thoughts and emotions you had thought you bottled up and threw deep into the ocean.

“You, you still talk to him right? Ya’ll were pretty close growing up, like fucking thieves attached to the hip if i can remember” Richie chuckles, fondly remembering the two of you.

You cough back, smiling up at him as you trying to reply coherently

“Yeah, uh sometimes you know” You lie

No. You haven't spoken to him since you left, and it feels like your tongue falls dead when you try to say his name again. You hadn't called and he hadn't picked up. Carmen told you not to say goodbye, but the truth was it had been the end of you even before you had both realised. 

You had spent years pretending like Carmen not calling you, not making an effort to see you after everything didn’t burn, but the reality of it had marked you in a way that felt eternal.

“So you're coming, yeah? You and Carmen can finally catch up” Richie replies with a smile, and look of something passes through his eyes before it leaves, and you have to smile back with a nod, like you and Carmen were still close, like you don't feel that he might turn you away or scream at you the second he saw you, like you weren't both irrevocably in love with each other.

Bear. You missed him, you are shocked by how much you do, you thought bottling up your memories and emotions about him and stuffing them so far back into your mind you forgot would actually change anything. There had always been this lingering thought, at the recesses of your mind, the last thing you imagined before you fell asleep, the feeling that filled you the second you came back to Chicago, it was all Carmen, it was all your golden boy.

And now you would have to see him, in less than a day you would  be in the same room as Carmen Berzatto, you don't want to say it, you don't want to speak it into acknowledgement but deep down, you wanted to see him again. 

Beyond it all, you both were bonded in friendship, sharing something you didn't even have with Adeline or Mae, and you had felt like a part of yourself was missing each day that went passed without hearing from him. Had he forgotten you? Had it been as hard for him to go on with life? He had been in New York for christ sake, he didn't even think to visit you, that thought alone made you want to run back home and never come out.

You couldn't bare the possibility of exposing yourself to such heartache, to the chance of being rejected by the very person who you forever longed for. You were always searching for him, looking through crowds to see the familiar curl of his brown hair, or the scent he carried, ears always leaning in, trying to see if it would catch his syrupy baritone voice.

The two of you were forever connected, like the roots of trees spanning miles under the Earth. The kind of companionship that transcended time and space, and god did you want to feel the sharp edge of his jaw between your hands.

You couldn't stop it now, Richie had opened something you kept locked and sunk for a reason, and now it felt like you would break if you didn't see Carmen. Even if it would break you, even if it was the one thing in this world that would destroy you, 

You had to see your golden boy.

[tangent101]

Have we gotten Rachel wrong this whole time?

There are plenty of theories about Rachel Amber in the LiS community. Some folks like to think of her as a manipulator who only was out for herself. We have others who think she was deep in love with Chloe and would never cheat on her and everything she did was to get her and Chloe out of Arcadia Bay. It seems like everyone looks at Rachel and sees something new. But… what if we were all wrong? What if Rachel was something else… someone who tried avoiding conflict by talking to people and agreeing with them… and thus everyone saw her as they wanted to see her?

There is actually some evidence toward this in the game. First, Chloe herself points this out, though in a way that is perhaps less than flattering: "She blended like a chameleon. Clearly more than I knew… or wanted to know…." People take this as to Rachel was able to see what makes a person tick and just become the person that someone else wanted… but we can see several people who had a rather negative view of Rachel. So what is it about those people that had a negative viewpoint of Rachel?

First, we have David Madsen, who detested Rachel and saw her as a bad influence and a criminal. He was investigating Rachel and had photographs he felt were of her being a drug mule. Next, we had a truck driver who talked about Rachel really wanting to get out of town. And of course there is Mark Jefferson who also had a… twisted view of Rachel, though it also seems Rachel was so enthralled by Jefferson that she may have been sleeping with him (and both Stella and Victoria seem to be interested in what's going on in Jefferson's pants as well, though I'm not sure why, he's not that charming).

The truth is that Rachel was something other than a manipulative gold-digger or the like. She were a teenage girl who disliked conflict and was adept at listening to people and when talking to them would agree with them? I mean, consider her two breakup letters, one to Frank and one to Chloe? Rachel so wanted to avoid conflict that she left a letter to Frank because he scared her. She did not want a fight. She wanted out. So she left… with a note basically giving her reasons and essentially ending things. (Frank thankfully accepted that.)

Chloe also got a letter. Honestly… given it was all crumpled up, I half-wonder if Chloe had read it while high one time and crumpled it up and forgot about it afterward. But we have a very important line here: I don't want you to hate me. I don't want you to hate me. That's a very interesting thing to say. There is no deliberate malice, this is someone who has found someone else who just rings all those bells but wants to keep the friend aspect. She still wants the laughter, the moments of sharing a glance and both having the same thought, the things she envisions friends do… but to walk away from the sensual intimacy.

Remember what Victoria Chase said to Max in the Dark Room, that she was just a teenage girl? That's Rachel. Rachel Amber was not a seductress or a narcissist or a monster. She was a teenage girl who was avoiding conflict in her life, but in doing so ended up in a shallow grave in a junkyard. Because quiet girls don't make history… they end up used, abused, and discarded. They end up on the rooftops willing to throw themselves to their deaths because no one would listen to them. They end up abandoned because they were not good enough, because they ultimately were not willing to stand up to those who would use them.

Max, before Chloe reentered her life, was one of those quiet girls who ends up used and discarded. The reason folks keep seeing Rachel in Max is because Rachel stayed quiet and let people make up their own minds about her. And they saw in her what they wanted.

Or at least, it's one way to interpret Rachel Amber.

[chishiyasleftnut]

Omg I loved shy chishiya in the 7 minutes in heaven fic. Could you do some sort of shy chishiya smut pppllleeeeaaaasssseeeee.

Hi! ๑(◕‿◕)๑ I tried my best to do something that was kind of similar to the 7 Minutes in Heaven fic. I hope you'll like it :)

Groupwork

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Warnings: Smut. Definitely out of character Chishiya, I'm sorry. Pairing: Med-school Chishiya x Med-school reader.

Plot: Awkward med-school!Chishiya and med-school!reader have to work together on a group project for school. They quickly realise their attractions to one another which sidetracks them for a bit.

2437 words. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

If it wasn’t for the big analogue clock placed above the door, the silence in the room would have made you question whether you’d gone deaf. But alas, you could hear. The silence was just that: silence. An awkward one at that.

You had booked a private study room in your university’s library for you and your assigned partner to write a dumb 5-page paper for your mandatory gynaecology course. Your partner, Chishiya, was at the top of the class. He was smart as hell, which is why you didn’t mind being paired with him to begin with. Surely the two of you would easily produce 5 good quality pages in no time, right?

Well, while you definitely thought so to begin with, you had blissfully forgotten all about the fact that Chishiya barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t the professor. You knew he could speak, you had heard his rather self-assured voice in class, so it was only a matter of him not wanting to.

Looking at the somewhat noisy clock told you that you had been sitting in dead silence for 5 minutes now. You therefore decided you would have to be the one to break it - at least if you wanted anything done within the 2 hours you had booked the room for.

“So…” you began, “gynaecology, huh?” You had hoped that would have inspired Chishiya to say something, but no. All he did was nod once; his gaze still focused steadfastly on the table. He hadn’t even looked at you yet. You began drumming with your fingers on the wooden table, unsure how to approach this. “Do you have any suggestions for the topic?” 

Chishiya began opening his textbook to scan over the various chapters in it. You watched him with expectant eyes, hoping he would finally say something. After a few seconds of pondering over the various topics, you heard his voice at last.

“What about hormonal birth control?”

Ah, his voice. Of course, you had heard it before, but this time it felt different. This time his words weren’t reverberating through a big lecture hall, his assertive statement repeating as an echo until your professor responded. No, this time he wasn’t speaking into a sizeable room filled with other people, instead his words were directly addressed to you and you only. Apparently, you had forgotten to reply to his suggestion, too concentrated on his voice, because you soon heard Chishiya speak again, this time a bit more carefully.

“We can also pick another subject if…”

“No!” you interrupted a bit too frantically, “no, birth control is great. A good subject.” A blush was growing on your cheeks, prompting Chishiya’s face to show a combination of confusion and relief at your reply. Okay, you had a topic now. Good start.

The two of you began working out the outline for your assignment. The room was quiet apart from the satisfying mechanical clicking sounds that your keyboards produced and the occasional short questions with the equally short, accompanying answers. Despite the awkwardness, the assignment was actually going pretty well. With the outline done, the two of you were now working on finding sources for the reference list.

You heard a hum coming from Chishiya and turned your head to see what he was doing. It appeared as if he was looking through the references, searching for something specific. Noticing that you were now looking at him, he decided he might as well include you in the search. “Have we cited Jefferson?” he asked. “Yeah, we have,” you replied before leaning closer to him to point to the correct citation on his screen, “it’s right here.”

You felt him stiffen up under your proximity. He almost looked like a Michelangelo statue, sculpted to perfection but stuck in position. As if you were Medusa, your closeness and sweet, flowery scent had transformed him to stone and made him unable to look at anything but you. You realised this when you turned your head to find that his eyes weren't on your finger pointing to his screen, but instead hungrily looking at your face. The blush from earlier reappeared on your cheeks once more, this time spreading as far as your ears, effectively turning your entire face cherry blossom pink.

Just as he was, you were now too unable to look away, completely captivated by the way he was taking you in, studying your face from your eyes to your lips. That was where his eyes lingered the most: your lips. Inebriated from the new but joyful feeling of being desired, you impulsively decided to give him what his eyes so desperately begged for, closing the gap between you and gently putting your lips on top of his, giving him the chance to move away if he wished to do so. Of course, moving away from your honeyed lips was the last thing he wanted to do. Instead, you felt him reciprocating the kiss, pressing his plump lips against yours.

Once the initial shock from the speed at which the circumstances changed was over for the both of you, you felt one of Chishiya’s hands move to cup your cheek. His touch made your mind go blank and you almost melted into his touch, wanting nothing more than for this to go on forever. If it was up to you, your lips would be locked together and the key thrown far, far away, binding you to each other for all eternity.

You felt his wet, soft tongue brushing lightly against your bottom lip, begging for permission to enter. Obliging, you parted your lips, welcoming him to explore you. He did just that, his tongue moving against yours, finding your taste to be as sweet as the perfume he could smell on you. His other hand moved to your waist, his thumb caressing your clothed side. With your arms now moving around his neck, he manoeuvred you from your chair onto him, so you were now seated in his lap, straddling him. The intensity of the kiss only increased, the both of you desperately wanting - no, needing - each other.

To his displeasure, you broke the seal that your lips had created and pulled away just far enough for him to still feel your warm, shaky breath on his face. Although you were incredibly breathless from the kiss, the smile on your face exposed the fluttering feeling of a million butterflies that you currently felt in your stomach. It was a very welcomed feeling and one that Chishiya likewise seemed to experience. “Let’s take a break from studying, shall we?” you suggested. He didn’t reply, instead immediately going back in for another kiss not wanting to go even a second without the feeling of your heavenly lips on his.

Warm, strong fingers moved underneath your shirt and up your back, simultaneously scratching you and pulling you closer to him. The sensation of his fingertips caused you to sigh into the kiss, making it impossible for Chishiya not to smile. He knew you loved it and that only made him crave you even more. After all, isn’t it more fun when both are equally longing for each other?

A rush of bravery swept over Chishiya, and his slightly shaky fingers began working on unhooking your bra. Fortunately, he succeeded without much trouble, freeing your shapely breasts just enough for him to be able to slide a hand underneath the cups and grab a hold of your left boob, squeezing hard as he explored the fatty flesh. While doing this, he unintentionally ran his thumb over the hard peak of your breast, earning him a moan as you felt your arousal pool in your panties. Surprised but delighted by your reaction, Chishiya repeatedly flicked his thumb over the sensitive nub, enjoying every moan he managed to get out of you.

Not being able to take it anymore, you grabbed the hand of his that was currently playing with your chest and guided it down your body until it landed between your legs. Looking at Chishiya’s face told you that this was not how he expected this study session to go, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. Carefully, as if he was worried of doing something wrong, he began trailing his fingers up and down your soaked underwear, focusing extra attention on the top where he could feel your clit. Each time he touched you there, you couldn’t help but jump slightly, as if the pleasure you felt from every touch came by surprise.

Once he had gotten more confident in his movements, Chishiya hiked up your skirt for easier access before pushing aside the now completely wet fabric hiding your center. The cold air made you gasp, but Chishiya quickly replaced the coldness with the warmth of his fingers. You felt his digits run up and down your folds, coating them in your arousal before he pushed two fingers inside of you, keeping them still there. Without thinking, you rested your forehead against his as you pleaded with a shaky breath: “Please.”

Wanting nothing more than to give you what you wanted, Chishiya dragged his long fingers against your front wall causing your please to turn into whimpers and soft moans. Adoring your reaction, Chishiya kept repeating the same come-hither motion that you so clearly loved, wanting nothing more than to please you.

And please you he did. Animalistic urges overtook your senses as you began riding his fingers, giving yourself every last bit of pleasure that his fingers could provide you. Wanting to further your gratification, Chishiya pressed his thumb against your clit, essentially turning his hands into toys meant for yourself to use as you craved. With quiet moans escaping your lips and your eyes closed to focus on the sensation, you didn’t notice how Chishiya was studying your face once more. With eyes lit up like a little kid entering a candy store, he looked absolutely in awe by the way his fingers could cause such a reaction.

Unable to contain himself for much longer, Chishiya pulled his fingers out of you and grabbed your hips to make you stand up from his lap. You were just about to complain about him being a tease, when you noticed what he was doing. With you now no longer seated in his lap, he had the ability to unzip and pull down his pants, taking his boxers with them and freeing his hard length. His hardness, already dripping with precum, slapped up against his shirt, staining the fabric. Either he didn’t notice or didn’t care, because instead of reacting to it, Chishiya grabbed a hold of his dick with one hand and your hips with the other, pumped himself a few times before lining his length up at your entrance and then lowering you down onto him. 

The echoes from the carnal moans that sounded from the two of you almost harmonised through the acoustics of the study room as you got used to each other’s bodies. Your tight walls were securely hugging his hardness - a sensation that caused his dick to twitch inside of you with every micro movement you made. With his hands still gripping your hips, Chishiya guided you up and down, providing the both of you with the arousing stimulation you were both so desperately needing.

Chishiya’s strong fingertips were almost painfully digging into your hips, but right now you were unable to focus on anything but the pleasure his body offered. Even the previously deafening analogue clock above the door got blocked out from your senses - instead the only thing filling your mind was how Chishiya repeatedly hit your sweet spot each time he guided you down onto him.

Without you noticing, one of his hands left your hips so his thumb once more could reconnect with your clit. Remembering how you liked it before, he gently pressed down on the sensitive pearl adorning your centre so he could stimulate it with each bopping movement your hips made. Clearly, this tactic worked because before long he felt your walls hug his length tighter and tighter, making it hard for him to hold back. Your eyes were starting to completely unfocused from reality as you felt the coil in your abdomen tighten more and more until… snap.

The sound that left you was uncharacteristically loud - loud enough that Chishiya swiftly covered your mouth with his hand to muffle the moan. You were still in an off section of the library after all and neither of you were entirely sure how soundproof the study rooms were. As your walls pulsated around Chishiya’s hardness, he too let his bodily urges take over and emptied himself inside of you. You were both in pure ecstasy, experiencing the lustful fruits of your joined labour.

Once Chishiya’s hand lazily slumped from your mouth and down to your thigh, he rested his forehead against yours again and allowed your hot and heavy breaths to mix together as one. You sat like this for a while, permitting yourself to relax and take in the moment, before Chishiya gently tapped your thigh to politely ask you to get off him. You chuckled tiredly but did as he silently suggested, lifting your legs off him and readjusting your underwear so your core was covered once more. Looking down at Chishiya’s body, you saw your mixed, sticky arousal covering the base of his manhood, but Chishiya quickly covered it up by pulling his pants back up over it again.

You were now back to sitting in silence, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. Instead, the silence allowed you each to think through what had just happened. Was this a one-time thing? Should you suggest making this a recurring act? Did this mean you were anything more than just classmates? You were both pondering over these questions while you worked together on the birth control assignment once more. After a few minutes, you heard Chishiya’s deep voice again for the first time in an hour.

“Speaking of birth control, you’re on it, right?”

His question made you laugh. Perhaps it was a bit late to ask that, but thankfully you were. “I am, no need to worry,” you replied. You heard Chishiya sigh with relief - the last thing either of you wanted was for this impulsive, passionate moment to turn into a lifelong commitment. Silence ensued for a while again before Chishiya spoke up once more, this time with the same confidence you heard him speak with when in class.

“So… I assume you wouldn’t mind being partners on future assignments?”

[ravewing]

1770 ???? 1770 like the year that thomas jeffersons home in shadwell burned down ????? 1770 as in the year that the boston massacre occured ???????? 1770 just like the year that the one and only IRON MARSHAL (and also frederick william iii of prussia and i think beethoven) was born ??????????????????????????????

rate my setup for recording my orchestra audition thing

8/10