unbearableblog

[unbearableblog]

Having new followers is so funny cause sometimes their name is like carmylovekisses and sometimes it's pure violence

[unbearableblog]

Thank you 🥹

Messages

Chapter 1

Summary Carmy’s actions towards the reader might eventually lead to consequences. Word count ~2,2k Warnings 18+, cursing, angst A/N  I have no beef (no pun intended) with Chicago. Everything I wrote is based on the feeling I got from the show and what I read about its history. I really hope you like this chapter as much as the first one. I know it's been a long time! I had a job, had health issues, actually went to Michelin restaurant and a bunch of other things. You're always welcome to share your thoughts.

Chapter 2

"Carm, I don't know about this..." you say and take a step back, shaking your head.

"Just try it," he says, seeing your hesitation. "It's okay, I got 'u."

Skeptically, you slowly take the knife and start chopping the greens in a "chef" way, the one he showed you just a second ago. Little by little, you do it. You barely breathe as the knife slices through freely and efficiently, but controlled enough to keep your fingers safe.

“Perfect, chef”

You turn to see Carmen's reaction. He is looking at the food, smiling, and then softly chuckles and turns to you. There is nothing but love in his eyes. Nothing but you.

"What do you mean it's not from him?" your sister asks with confusion.

"I don't know! It's not from fucking Carmen!" you yell while standing in her living room. The gift is right beside you, carefully placed on the round white coffee table in front of the couch.

"Who's it from then?" she asks just as calmly, almost chuckling.

"Another chef?" you use your arms dramatically to get your point across, frustrated at her not understanding.

"What chef? Girl, how many-"

"It's not from fucking Carm! Fuck! I don't know what to do!" you plop on the couch, hands covering your face.

Madeline sits down beside you. "What's going on? So what? You got some cinnamon buns, what's the big deal?"

"Because they're not from Carmen, that's the deal!" your head falls onto her shoulder, and she wraps you in her arms, rubbing your back.

"Tell me what's wrong."

You let your initial frustration out with the yelling, and the only thing left was sadness. Confusion. Disappointment.

"They're not from him. He's ignoring me."

"Ahhh, I see. And who are they really from?" she keeps moving her hand in circles while holding you, and that makes you feel much safer. You relax more and more.

"I went to the bakery today, remember? His old friend- or whatever they were- was the guy to teach Marcus."

"And why is he sending you gifts?" her voice sounds above you.

It's hard to think. You felt so much, and now your mind is drowsy. "I told him how much I love cinnamon buns. I guess it's just a courtesy."

"Wrapped with a red silk ribbon? And a written note? Yeah, nice courtesy.." she smirks at you.

"Stop," - she doesn't, "Stop!" you whine. "It can't be like that."

"Yeah? And what's stoppin' it?"

"I'm literally dating his friend."

"Are you though? You said it wasn't much of dating anymore. Does he know that?"

Fuck.

"Uhh..."

"Well, that's what I'm talking 'bout. The guy saw the chance and shot his shot. At least you know he cares about you. Look at that sugar! He must have used half the bakery's stash for that, I'll tell you that."

You laugh.

"No, seriously, don't eat them all in one sitting, I can feel my blood sugar rising from here."

You felt something else instead - hunger. You looked at Madeline and back at the box a couple of times and then reached for it. You took one bun for yourself and gave the other one to her. Both of you appreciated the beauty in your hands, and after a sigh, took a bite of heaven.

It was divine.

"Holy shit, Liv. His hands are a miracle."

But you knew that - you saw them with your own eyes.

Chicago is cold. So fucking cold. It wasn't unusual for you - after all, you grew up in Europe, but here it felt different. The streets felt blue and lonely as if Carmen was the only person who lived there. But again, it's not like you had much time to discover the city when all you did was related to Carmen. Your college had a very lenient schedule, meaning you had classes occasionally, and the remaining assignments you did at The Beef. Chicago is mostly a blue-collar town, and witnessing struggling people was not unusual. A sneaking thought would sometimes slither into your head, making you wonder if you would ever live here if it wasn't for Carmen. The atmosphere made you depressed. The Beef made you forget. All the bickering, no matter how much it sucked, involved people, and that meant that at least somewhere you would be noticed.

You loved Carmen so much, and seeing him struggle was your hell. So you gave up everything for him. Your own ambition went on the backburn - how could you when his brother just died? How could you when he had a whole business to run? When he would grasp his chest and wince, when he would look at you so lovingly, when your baby was in pain, everything was worth it.

You would do anything for him.

And then The Beef was becoming The Bear and you for sure had to shut up. Carmen had so much on his plate, and if only you held out for a little while until it opened, and then just a little more until you got it up and running and gave the money back to Uncle. Maybe then you could think about what you actually want and where to go with Carmen, how you want your relationship to grow, and where you want to travel. Then it would all be okay.

The phone is in your hand as you count the time in Chicago. It's 7 hours behind, and here it's almost afternoon, so it should be fine. You click on Carmen's number and hit "call".

Ring.

Ring.

Ri-

"Hi, Liv. How's Copenhagen?" it is so nice to hear his voice. Ugh, you miss him.

"Uhh, it's a lot. It's soo beautiful here, so much warmer too. It’s so much different from Chicago, I really needed this. I wish you were here.

"Listen, I- ...no, Cousin, I said-... no-no-no..." you listen closely and can hear Richie yelling back something about cold. Or mold? "I told you not to touch it!"

"I'm sorry, I gotta go. Call you sometime," he hangs up.

You silently put the phone on the table.

"Have you talked to Carmy?" you blurt out, continuing the walk across the water like that question was not divided into a thousand different statements.

You promised Marcus to show him the city. He, in turn, encouraged you to try even more pastry, They were good, delicious, even, but your mind kept going back to what you had earlier.

"Yeah. He was super stoked that I loved the boat. Said he didn' doubt it. And that he couldn't find the cat either-"

Fucking asshole.

"- so don't feel down, it's probably somewhere out there, stealing the food in the city," he smiles at the thought, probably imagining a sneaky cat grabbing a fish at the market while the owner turned away.

"Oh. Good to know." You are boiling with anger. At this point, it's starting to get to you. You're tired of caring. Carmen made his decision.

You decide to forget about him and focus on the peaceful water around you, beautiful architecture and so many people. That's the one thing you always loved - you never knew who you would meet or what you could learn from a stranger. Copenhagen was so different from Chicago. That place, maybe the Beef mainly, sucked you in and the rest of the world didn't matter. Here, otherwise. It felt.. open. This place felt enough as it is, but it somehow reminded you of the rest of the world too, encouraged you, moved you. You would never admit it, but you felt so free. What was the next thing you would do? Next place you could go? Why weren't you thinking about that in Chicago? You were still so young...

Was it all a mistake?

The next sleepless night you decided to join Marcus again. You walked in and plopped your bag on a chair. Luca was already quick on his feet, of course.

It’s 5 AM, how is he so productive?

After short greetings, the three of you continued with business.

You watched them talk about types of dough, what flavors go together best, and the secrets of the art of cooking, and then it was time for Marcus to put his skills into practice. It was always a little nerve-racking, as if it was you trying.

After a while, Marcus went outside to call his mom and Luca took the time to clean up. This was your chance.

“Hey…” you began.

How do you even ask it? Thank you for the orgasm-inducing pastry? Did you mean to flirt with your friend’s girlfriend?

“Yeah, Liv,” he’s turned away from you, but you can hear the smile in his voice. God, his accent.

“Thank you,” you decided to go with simplicity.

“You’re welcome. Was it enough?”

An “oh god, yes” came out involuntarily.

“Good”. He smiled pridefully again.

You began to understand that Luca is not a man of many words.

He stopped cleaning the surface adjacent to the wall, and turned towards the table in the middle of the room, the one they practiced on. Luca’s mind seemed busy for a moment.

“Do you wanna try?” he looked up expectantly.

“Oh, no-” you immediately answered. All that time you spent cooking with Carmen didn’t really amount to a lot, and even Marcus was struggling with these desserts, you wouldn’t wanna -

“Why not? Marcus said you were an honorary chef. I’d like to see your skills.”

“Here,” Luca said assertively and handed you the piping bag. You smiled awkwardly and shook your head making up an excuse, which was pointless because he followed up with an assertive “take it”, which you couldn’t resist. Oh god.

Hesitantly, you took the hefty piping bag in your hands and attempted to copy the swirl nearby.

A minute later you took a step back to judge your work. It didn’t look anything like his. Luca came a little closer to see better.

“Softer,” he corrects after a short inspection. You hunch over the table to try your luck again.

“No, like this,” he suddenly placed his palm entirely over yours and leaned closer so that his shoulder controlled yours. Your breath hitched. Only Carmen gets this close.

His body guiding yours seemed to work, and you got the exact amount of pressure and curve needed to pipe the filling.

“Flawless, chef,” and you see that his eyes aren’t on pastry anymore. You notice up close how warm-toned his skin is. Are those.. freckles?

Beat.

The high-pitched screech of the door made you jump and rapidly step out of Luca’s half-hug. He remained as he was, only placing his hand on the counter now.

“Everything alright?” The question surprised you but it turned out it wasn't for you.

“Yeah, mama’s good”, Marcus responded lightly. “I think we can go now tho. Thank you so much for the lesson.”

His eyes caught the imperfect practice rounds, which surely couldn't belong to a seasoned chef.

“You tried these when I was out?”

“Yeah, Liv did it”

You turned to Luca with a face. You kinda had no choice.

“Liv!” he beamed. “I’ve been telling you to try something! I can't believe I missed it. Man, you don’t know how long I’ve been tryna get her to work on pastry, she loves’em so much! Denmark is truly a land of wonders, I’ll tell ya” Luca openly laughed. For such an enigma like him, you took that as a sign that he was warming up to both of you.

You both went out to the fresh air and then headed home. Madeline was out so you were free to enjoy a cup of tea in a soft chair by yourself. As the hot water left a burn on your tongue, you reflected on the past days.

Moments like these were rather rare with Carm when he was slow, quiet and gentle. They were especially rare now when both of you were so busy. You knew he wasn’t always this patient with chefs. Somehow Luca’s felt different.

And then a thought struck you.

You didn’t see him coach Marcus like that.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

🏷️Tag list (tagged everyone in the comments) @l0nalol @soursopsista @swedesfics @nervousnerdwitch @marymustdie @pinktrappy @mrs-reeves-17 @bxtchopolis @smoooore @miley1442111 @awkwardalie @carma-fanficaddict @eternallyvenus @sia2raw @helloheyhihowdyheya @m1dnightsnackz @grxnde-dwt @custarrds @cinnamongirlblogs @melancholicmelanin @yellowfielde @althea-tavalas

[unbearableblog]

Oh my god I keep posting stuff by accident!😭😭 I hope it's a sign that it's ready

[unbearableblog]

Messages

Chapter 1

Summary Carmy’s actions towards the reader might eventually lead to consequences. Word count ~2,2k Warnings 18+, cursing, angst A/N  I have no beef (no pun intended) with Chicago. Everything I wrote is based on the feeling I got from the show and what I read about its history. I really hope you like this chapter as much as the first one. I know it's been a long time! I had a job, had health issues, actually went to Michelin restaurant and a bunch of other things. You're always welcome to share your thoughts.

Chapter 2

"Carm, I don't know about this..." you say and take a step back, shaking your head.

"Just try it," he says, seeing your hesitation. "It's okay, I got 'u."

Skeptically, you slowly take the knife and start chopping the greens in a "chef" way, the one he showed you just a second ago. Little by little, you do it. You barely breathe as the knife slices through freely and efficiently, but controlled enough to keep your fingers safe.

“Perfect, chef”

You turn to see Carmen's reaction. He is looking at the food, smiling, and then softly chuckles and turns to you. There is nothing but love in his eyes. Nothing but you.

"What do you mean it's not from him?" your sister asks with confusion.

"I don't know! It's not from fucking Carmen!" you yell while standing in her living room. The gift is right beside you, carefully placed on the round white coffee table in front of the couch.

"Who's it from then?" she asks just as calmly, almost chuckling.

"Another chef?" you use your arms dramatically to get your point across, frustrated at her not understanding.

"What chef? Girl, how many-"

"It's not from fucking Carm! Fuck! I don't know what to do!" you plop on the couch, hands covering your face.

Madeline sits down beside you. "What's going on? So what? You got some cinnamon buns, what's the big deal?"

"Because they're not from Carmen, that's the deal!" your head falls onto her shoulder, and she wraps you in her arms, rubbing your back.

"Tell me what's wrong."

You let your initial frustration out with the yelling, and the only thing left was sadness. Confusion. Disappointment.

"They're not from him. He's ignoring me."

"Ahhh, I see. And who are they really from?" she keeps moving her hand in circles while holding you, and that makes you feel much safer. You relax more and more.

"I went to the bakery today, remember? His old friend- or whatever they were- was the guy to teach Marcus."

"And why is he sending you gifts?" her voice sounds above you.

It's hard to think. You felt so much, and now your mind is drowsy. "I told him how much I love cinnamon buns. I guess it's just a courtesy."

"Wrapped with a red silk ribbon? And a written note? Yeah, nice courtesy.." she smirks at you.

"Stop," - she doesn't, "Stop!" you whine. "It can't be like that."

"Yeah? And what's stoppin' it?"

"I'm literally dating his friend."

"Are you though? You said it wasn't much of dating anymore. Does he know that?"

Fuck.

"Uhh..."

"Well, that's what I'm talking 'bout. The guy saw the chance and shot his shot. At least you know he cares about you. Look at that sugar! He must have used half the bakery's stash for that, I'll tell you that."

You laugh.

"No, seriously, don't eat them all in one sitting, I can feel my blood sugar rising from here."

You felt something else instead - hunger. You looked at Madeline and back at the box a couple of times and then reached for it. You took one bun for yourself and gave the other one to her. Both of you appreciated the beauty in your hands, and after a sigh, took a bite of heaven.

It was divine.

"Holy shit, Liv. His hands are a miracle."

But you knew that - you saw them with your own eyes.

Chicago is cold. So fucking cold. It wasn't unusual for you - after all, you grew up in Europe, but here it felt different. The streets felt blue and lonely as if Carmen was the only person who lived there. But again, it's not like you had much time to discover the city when all you did was related to Carmen. Your college had a very lenient schedule, meaning you had classes occasionally, and the remaining assignments you did at The Beef. Chicago is mostly a blue-collar town, and witnessing struggling people was not unusual. A sneaking thought would sometimes slither into your head, making you wonder if you would ever live here if it wasn't for Carmen. The atmosphere made you depressed. The Beef made you forget. All the bickering, no matter how much it sucked, involved people, and that meant that at least somewhere you would be noticed.

You loved Carmen so much, and seeing him struggle was your hell. So you gave up everything for him. Your own ambition went on the backburn - how could you when his brother just died? How could you when he had a whole business to run? When he would grasp his chest and wince, when he would look at you so lovingly, when your baby was in pain, everything was worth it.

You would do anything for him.

And then The Beef was becoming The Bear and you for sure had to shut up. Carmen had so much on his plate, and if only you held out for a little while until it opened, and then just a little more until you got it up and running and gave the money back to Uncle. Maybe then you could think about what you actually want and where to go with Carmen, how you want your relationship to grow, and where you want to travel. Then it would all be okay.

The phone is in your hand as you count the time in Chicago. It's 7 hours behind, and here it's almost afternoon, so it should be fine. You click on Carmen's number and hit "call".

Ring.

Ring.

Ri-

"Hi, Liv. How's Copenhagen?" it is so nice to hear his voice. Ugh, you miss him.

"Uhh, it's a lot. It's soo beautiful here, so much warmer too. It’s so much different from Chicago, I really needed this. I wish you were here.

"Listen, I- ...no, Cousin, I said-... no-no-no..." you listen closely and can hear Richie yelling back something about cold. Or mold? "I told you not to touch it!"

"I'm sorry, I gotta go. Call you sometime," he hangs up.

You silently put the phone on the table.

"Have you talked to Carmy?" you blurt out, continuing the walk across the water like that question was not divided into a thousand different statements.

You promised Marcus to show him the city. He, in turn, encouraged you to try even more pastry, They were good, delicious, even, but your mind kept going back to what you had earlier.

"Yeah. He was super stoked that I loved the boat. Said he didn' doubt it. And that he couldn't find the cat either-"

Fucking asshole.

"- so don't feel down, it's probably somewhere out there, stealing the food in the city," he smiles at the thought, probably imagining a sneaky cat grabbing a fish at the market while the owner turned away.

"Oh. Good to know." You are boiling with anger. At this point, it's starting to get to you. You're tired of caring. Carmen made his decision.

You decide to forget about him and focus on the peaceful water around you, beautiful architecture and so many people. That's the one thing you always loved - you never knew who you would meet or what you could learn from a stranger. Copenhagen was so different from Chicago. That place, maybe the Beef mainly, sucked you in and the rest of the world didn't matter. Here, otherwise. It felt.. open. This place felt enough as it is, but it somehow reminded you of the rest of the world too, encouraged you, moved you. You would never admit it, but you felt so free. What was the next thing you would do? Next place you could go? Why weren't you thinking about that in Chicago? You were still so young...

Was it all a mistake?

The next sleepless night you decided to join Marcus again. You walked in and plopped your bag on a chair. Luca was already quick on his feet, of course.

It’s 5 AM, how is he so productive?

After short greetings, the three of you continued with business.

You watched them talk about types of dough, what flavors go together best, and the secrets of the art of cooking, and then it was time for Marcus to put his skills into practice. It was always a little nerve-racking, as if it was you trying.

After a while, Marcus went outside to call his mom and Luca took the time to clean up. This was your chance.

“Hey…” you began.

How do you even ask it? Thank you for the orgasm-inducing pastry? Did you mean to flirt with your friend’s girlfriend?

“Yeah, Liv,” he’s turned away from you, but you can hear the smile in his voice. God, his accent.

“Thank you,” you decided to go with simplicity.

“You’re welcome. Was it enough?”

An “oh god, yes” came out involuntarily.

“Good”. He smiled pridefully again.

You began to understand that Luca is not a man of many words.

He stopped cleaning the surface adjacent to the wall, and turned towards the table in the middle of the room, the one they practiced on. Luca’s mind seemed busy for a moment.

“Do you wanna try?” he looked up expectantly.

“Oh, no-” you immediately answered. All that time you spent cooking with Carmen didn’t really amount to a lot, and even Marcus was struggling with these desserts, you wouldn’t wanna -

“Why not? Marcus said you were an honorary chef. I’d like to see your skills.”

“Here,” Luca said assertively and handed you the piping bag. You smiled awkwardly and shook your head making up an excuse, which was pointless because he followed up with an assertive “take it”, which you couldn’t resist. Oh god.

Hesitantly, you took the hefty piping bag in your hands and attempted to copy the swirl nearby.

A minute later you took a step back to judge your work. It didn’t look anything like his. Luca came a little closer to see better.

“Softer,” he corrects after a short inspection. You hunch over the table to try your luck again.

“No, like this,” he suddenly placed his palm entirely over yours and leaned closer so that his shoulder controlled yours. Your breath hitched. Only Carmen gets this close.

His body guiding yours seemed to work, and you got the exact amount of pressure and curve needed to pipe the filling.

“Flawless, chef,” and you see that his eyes aren’t on pastry anymore. You notice up close how warm-toned his skin is. Are those.. freckles?

Beat.

The high-pitched screech of the door made you jump and rapidly step out of Luca’s half-hug. He remained as he was, only placing his hand on the counter now.

“Everything alright?” The question surprised you but it turned out it wasn't for you.

“Yeah, mama’s good”, Marcus responded lightly. “I think we can go now tho. Thank you so much for the lesson.”

His eyes caught the imperfect practice rounds, which surely couldn't belong to a seasoned chef.

“You tried these when I was out?”

“Yeah, Liv did it”

You turned to Luca with a face. You kinda had no choice.

“Liv!” he beamed. “I’ve been telling you to try something! I can't believe I missed it. Man, you don’t know how long I’ve been tryna get her to work on pastry, she loves’em so much! Denmark is truly a land of wonders, I’ll tell ya” Luca openly laughed. For such an enigma like him, you took that as a sign that he was warming up to both of you.

You both went out to the fresh air and then headed home. Madeline was out so you were free to enjoy a cup of tea in a soft chair by yourself. As the hot water left a burn on your tongue, you reflected on the past days.

Moments like these were rather rare with Carm when he was slow, quiet and gentle. They were especially rare now when both of you were so busy. You knew he wasn’t always this patient with chefs. Somehow Luca’s felt different.

And then a thought struck you.

You didn’t see him coach Marcus like that.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

🏷️Tag list (tagged everyone in the comments) @l0nalol @soursopsista @swedesfics @nervousnerdwitch @marymustdie @pinktrappy @mrs-reeves-17 @bxtchopolis @smoooore @miley1442111 @awkwardalie @carma-fanficaddict @eternallyvenus @sia2raw @helloheyhihowdyheya @m1dnightsnackz @grxnde-dwt @custarrds @cinnamongirlblogs @melancholicmelanin @yellowfielde @althea-tavalas

[unbearableblog]

Chapter 2 moodboard

I have two even bigger pinterest boards which are mostly pics of carmen and luca

[unbearableblog]

Hi pookie, quick question, are you going to continue the Are. You. Ready? fic? I may have reread it a dozen times already and I'm just a little curious.

First of all, I can't believe that someone liked it so much that they not only read it, but read it again😭😭 thank you so much. The thing is, I had such terrible writer's block? Like I couldn't put this huge idea that I had into writing because nothing felt good enough, and then life changed so much for me lately. I came back to it a couple days ago and looked at it in a different light, without putting all that pressure because I realised the majority did not even care for the tiny details I obsessed over. Chapter 2 is 80% done. The thing is, I'm scared to post it because I think that it doesn't compare to chapter one and everyone will hate it. Kinda like a bad sequel. I'm sorry I made you wait for over a year.

[unbearableblog]

Wow that is actually genius! It wasn't crispy though, just kinda dry like the stem of the wheat plant. But it definitely has the same element of "I've never tasted a weird texture like this in food before", so it could actually work if someone decided to make it irl

To my birthday. I wish myself to one day be loved like that. Based on a dream

Dream Dish

“Can you explain it a little more?”

“So, the outside was covered in dried cranberries and blueberries, but the inside was like… grass? I don’t know…”

“Grass? Sounds delicious,” he laughs.

“Shut up.”

Carmen listened intentively and moved away his curls as you described the dream you had, a certain dish that you tried there.

“Ugh, it was so weird? Like, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered this grass before. It was like hay, but green? And the outside of the dessert was like a fortune cookie, but brown?” you sigh in frustration, unable to describe its complexity in full, until an idea appears in your head. You quickly stand up and blurt out - “I’ll show you!”

You run to get the pencils and paper, leaving Carmen to sit amused on the bed. He knew waking up with you would be an adventure, but not in this way. Either way, he liked it.

“Here!” You put the paper down and frantically drew shapes and coloured them in, making the dream a reality.

“So! This is what it looks like.”

You paused from your driven spurt and realized that Carmen hasn’t said a word. He was silently looking at the paper.

“Sorry, this must be really boring to hear,” you suddenly shut down. After all, it was you who tried that magical dish, not him.

He looks up at you, then down at the paper. “No- …no, it’s a fascinating dish. I’m just tryna understand how it works,“ he still sounds kinda sleepy.

"It's okay, Carm, you don't have to."

Several days have passed and you moved on. You didn’t want to abandon your friends after getting a boyfriend, so today was one of the nights when you met up for a chat. When you came back, the apartment felt warmer and had a fruity scent - Carmen must have tried something for the restaurant.

You take your heels off and tiptoe to the kitchen, curious. He hasn’t heard you come in, so he is still hunched over the counter. Your eyes shifted to the table - and you wondered whether you were awake.

“Carmen? What’s that?”

“Shit!” he jumps, at which you chuckle, “when’d you come back?”

“Right now,” you say hesitantly, “why, was I not supposed to?”

“Of course not,” he comes to hug you. His arms are on your waist, and you know he can still smell your perfume. “I just wanted to surprise you,” he releases you and turns to the table.

You recognize the dish.

“Is that-”

“Yes, baby, that’s your dish,” he smiles and looks kinda proud.

“Can I try it?” you ask, and he reaches down to take the plate and a spoon. You break the cookie in half, inspect the filling, and eat it. As you chew, the insanity of the situation grows on you. This is a made-up dish. From your dream. You’re eating it.

“I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t find the exact grass you were talkin’ about, I had to switch it out with-”

“It’s okay, Carm, I’m sure that if it existed you would have found it,” you put the plate down and your hands slide to his arms, “It’s amazing. It didn’t taste nearly as good in the dream,”

“It is pretty good, isn’t it?” he takes the other half of the cookie and eats it too.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

”I made it.”

“I came up with it.”

He doesn’t respond, just smiles at you. You look him in the eyes and think how happy you are.

“I love you,” he whispers and gives you a kiss.

[unbearableblog]

18+, Reader is anxious and uses fwb with Carmy to cope

>Is it late?

She licks her lip, and instinctively almost bites it. The noise of her foot tapping was the only sound in her dark, empty apartment, besides her shallow breaths. Should she? Her thumb almost touched the send button. No, it’s ridiculous. She can’t run to him like a little girl every time she needs help. But this time is different, she said to herself. Look, I can’t even hold the phone straight, she closed her hand into a fist and opened it. I need to see him.

She slowly inhaled and touched the screen. To her amazement, the world didn’t collapse. Only a bubble of text moved the previous ones higher. “Is it late?”

She breathed even louder and put her head on her knees. Fuck.

She heard the little ding and jolted to look at the screen.

“no”

Phew. Okay, we’re doing a little better now. Umm… what’s next though?

“come over”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She took her bag, put on the coat, and left.

He opened the door right after she knocked.

“Hi,” he said as she hugged him, managing to place a sneaky kiss on her hair. In the meantime, she finally felt her heart slowing down, worries almost transferring to him and dissipating. Fading away. He let her take her time, and when she finally pulled back, asked.

“Is it late? Why so cryptic?”

“I don’t know… what if you had someone over…”

She got disappointed just thinking about it. He, looking the way that he looks, and joking the way that he jokes, and caring the way that he cares, could bring anyone home. And then they would have fun. Kiss in the kitchen. Drink wine. And he wouldn’t even see the message she sent him. Well, he would, the next morning, and then he would laugh about it or feel pity for her and ignore her.

“What? You thought I had someone over?”

The implication makes him smile. She doesn’t know that ever since they came up with this little arrangement he couldn’t even fathom bringing another girl home. She wouldn’t smile like her, laugh like her, or smell as deliciously as she does in the morning when she sleeps and doesn’t know he’s drowning himself in her hair. And definitely, she wouldn’t scream like her or taste like her, when he’s burying his fingers into her- he has to shake off the memory. Although what for, if it’s going to happen again in like ten minutes?

“I mean.. yeah, why wouldn’t you?”

He helps her out of her coat and traces her arms with his.

“Because I have you,” said he, thinking it meant much more to him than it did to her.

And so they continued, his mouth on her neck, and his face about to be buried in her hair again.

[unbearableblog]

Oh snap! New material!

HE GOT OUT OF THE FRIDGE

[unbearableblog]

If anyone is curious what it looked like. I think the inside had some kinda cream filling and the middle of the cookie was decorated with chocolate

To my birthday. I wish myself to one day be loved like that. Based on a dream

Dream Dish

“Can you explain it a little more?”

“So, the outside was covered in dried cranberries and blueberries, but the inside was like… grass? I don’t know…”

“Grass? Sounds delicious,” he laughs.

“Shut up.”

Carmen listened intentively and moved away his curls as you described the dream you had, a certain dish that you tried there.

“Ugh, it was so weird? Like, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered this grass before. It was like hay, but green? And the outside of the dessert was like a fortune cookie, but brown?” you sigh in frustration, unable to describe its complexity in full, until an idea appears in your head. You quickly stand up and blurt out - “I’ll show you!”

You run to get the pencils and paper, leaving Carmen to sit amused on the bed. He knew waking up with you would be an adventure, but not in this way. Either way, he liked it.

“Here!” You put the paper down and frantically drew shapes and coloured them in, making the dream a reality.

“So! This is what it looks like.”

You paused from your driven spurt and realized that Carmen hasn’t said a word. He was silently looking at the paper.

“Sorry, this must be really boring to hear,” you suddenly shut down. After all, it was you who tried that magical dish, not him.

He looks up at you, then down at the paper. “No- …no, it’s a fascinating dish. I’m just tryna understand how it works,“ he still sounds kinda sleepy.

"It's okay, Carm, you don't have to."

Several days have passed and you moved on. You didn’t want to abandon your friends after getting a boyfriend, so today was one of the nights when you met up for a chat. When you came back, the apartment felt warmer and had a fruity scent - Carmen must have tried something for the restaurant.

You take your heels off and tiptoe to the kitchen, curious. He hasn’t heard you come in, so he is still hunched over the counter. Your eyes shifted to the table - and you wondered whether you were awake.

“Carmen? What’s that?”

“Shit!” he jumps, at which you chuckle, “when’d you come back?”

“Right now,” you say hesitantly, “why, was I not supposed to?”

“Of course not,” he comes to hug you. His arms are on your waist, and you know he can still smell your perfume. “I just wanted to surprise you,” he releases you and turns to the table.

You recognize the dish.

“Is that-”

“Yes, baby, that’s your dish,” he smiles and looks kinda proud.

“Can I try it?” you ask, and he reaches down to take the plate and a spoon. You break the cookie in half, inspect the filling, and eat it. As you chew, the insanity of the situation grows on you. This is a made-up dish. From your dream. You’re eating it.

“I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t find the exact grass you were talkin’ about, I had to switch it out with-”

“It’s okay, Carm, I’m sure that if it existed you would have found it,” you put the plate down and your hands slide to his arms, “It’s amazing. It didn’t taste nearly as good in the dream,”

“It is pretty good, isn’t it?” he takes the other half of the cookie and eats it too.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

”I made it.”

“I came up with it.”

He doesn’t respond, just smiles at you. You look him in the eyes and think how happy you are.

“I love you,” he whispers and gives you a kiss.

[unbearableblog]

I’d lose my mind if you wrote a short blurb about Carmy, Fak, and Richie all trying one of those period cramp simulators 😭 they’d probably be cussing a lot more than they already do

You guys have the craziest ideas, I would never think about writing something like that lmao, we'll see when I can get to it 😆

[unbearableblog]

Holy fuck. I just realised the sheer amount of stuff that I wrote for the Copenhagen fic in my phone's notes for the later chapters and how they are fucking gone now because it broke.

[unbearableblog]

Masterlist

Hello, welcome to my home.

Reqs are open, but it might take me some time to write them if I choose to do so.

Carmen Berzatto

Messages (series)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Teaser "Baby, please..."

Carmen and Olivia are dating, but "The Beef" changing into "The Bear" is more stressful than anticipated. Liv travels to Copenhagen with Marcus, where she meets someone who might make Carmen regret the way he's been treating her.

Another Chance

Coming soon.

It tastes better

Carmen finds it funny that reader doesn't know a simple fact about cooking.

Dream Dish

Reader has a dream about an impossible dish.

>Is it late?

Reader has anxiety and uses Carmy to cope since they're fwb.

a dream I had about an interview

[unbearableblog]

To my birthday. I wish myself to one day be loved like that. Based on a dream

Dream Dish

“Can you explain it a little more?”

“So, the outside was covered in dried cranberries and blueberries, but the inside was like… grass? I don’t know…”

“Grass? Sounds delicious,” he laughs.

“Shut up.”

Carmen listened intentively and moved away his curls as you described the dream you had, a certain dish that you tried there.

“Ugh, it was so weird? Like, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered this grass before. It was like hay, but green? And the outside of the dessert was like a fortune cookie, but brown?” you sigh in frustration, unable to describe its complexity in full, until an idea appears in your head. You quickly stand up and blurt out - “I’ll show you!”

You run to get the pencils and paper, leaving Carmen to sit amused on the bed. He knew waking up with you would be an adventure, but not in this way. Either way, he liked it.

“Here!” You put the paper down and frantically drew shapes and coloured them in, making the dream a reality.

“So! This is what it looks like.”

You paused from your driven spurt and realized that Carmen hasn’t said a word. He was silently looking at the paper.

“Sorry, this must be really boring to hear,” you suddenly shut down. After all, it was you who tried that magical dish, not him.

He looks up at you, then down at the paper. “No- …no, it’s a fascinating dish. I’m just tryna understand how it works,“ he still sounds kinda sleepy.

"It's okay, Carm, you don't have to."

Several days have passed and you moved on. You didn’t want to abandon your friends after getting a boyfriend, so today was one of the nights when you met up for a chat. When you came back, the apartment felt warmer and had a fruity scent - Carmen must have tried something for the restaurant.

You take your heels off and tiptoe to the kitchen, curious. He hasn’t heard you come in, so he is still hunched over the counter. Your eyes shifted to the table - and you wondered whether you were awake.

“Carmen? What’s that?”

“Shit!” he jumps, at which you chuckle, “when’d you come back?”

“Right now,” you say hesitantly, “why, was I not supposed to?”

“Of course not,” he comes to hug you. His arms are on your waist, and you know he can still smell your perfume. “I just wanted to surprise you,” he releases you and turns to the table.

You recognize the dish.

“Is that-”

“Yes, baby, that’s your dish,” he smiles and looks kinda proud.

“Can I try it?” you ask, and he reaches down to take the plate and a spoon. You break the cookie in half, inspect the filling, and eat it. As you chew, the insanity of the situation grows on you. This is a made-up dish. From your dream. You’re eating it.

“I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t find the exact grass you were talkin’ about, I had to switch it out with-”

“It’s okay, Carm, I’m sure that if it existed you would have found it,” you put the plate down and your hands slide to his arms, “It’s amazing. It didn’t taste nearly as good in the dream,”

“It is pretty good, isn’t it?” he takes the other half of the cookie and eats it too.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

”I made it.”

“I came up with it.”

He doesn’t respond, just smiles at you. You look him in the eyes and think how happy you are.

“I love you,” he whispers and gives you a kiss.

[unbearableblog]

Aww🥺😭😭 thank you so much 🙏🙏

Guys I’m sorry I remember you it’s just that so many things happened and changed! Literally writing right now because you deserve to have the continuation of something I fed you (and I’m writing everything else that I promised to take on too, it’s just in my files so sorry if you have to wait longer than you wanted)

[unbearableblog]

Guys I’m sorry I remember you it’s just that so many things happened and changed! Literally writing right now because you deserve to have the continuation of something I fed you (and I’m writing everything else that I promised to take on too, it’s just in my files so sorry if you have to wait longer than you wanted)

[unbearableblog]

Hi do you take request?? I’ve had this idea in my head forever and haven’t found someone to do it:( Here me out lol, reader was Mikey’s longgg time significant other and lowkey did drugs with him. Carmy and Richie think of the reader as their sister, they love her right. After Mikey passed they haven’t heard from her in FOREVER, she kinda just disappeared. One day she shows up at the restaurant a mess, begging for help ( they can tell she’s clearly been using ) and it’s just angsty with a happy ending?? It’s been in my head for weeks😭

Oof what a plot! Maybe.. I’ll think about it. Sounds interesting tho! Do you want like a short story or something bigger?