fourmoony

[fourmoony]

Half way through an essay that’s due today at 5pm🫡🫡 (it just turned midnight) I work better under pressure, I swear.

I promise I’ll get some writing done this week, as well as some asks. Thank you all for being patient during assessment season, it means the world.

#assessment season is not for the weak #it’s almost over #so close #yet so far #halle talks shit

[fourmoony]

Brb going to start watching The Bear simply because of this.

This is perfection, Mae. Perfection. I need him.

Honeydew

I'm doing a rewatch of the bear and god he is just so irresistable. My childhood crush on lip gallagher has been revived and given new purpose! I can't promise to write for carmy consistently but if y'all have requests I wouldn't be opposed to them :)

cw: blood 

Carmy Berzatto x fem!reader ♡ 972 words

There are tons of benefits to being in the same kitchen as a classically trained chef. For one, Carmy always gives you the easy tasks. Stirring pasta, scrambling eggs, chopping scallions. Today, you’re cutting up melon while he whips up some kind of citrus sauce, because your boyfriend is incapable of making just a fruit salad. No, it has to have some kind of fancy factor, or else they’ll take away his star, you guess. (Not that you’re complaining. That sauce is gonna be awesome.)

One thing that doesn’t tend to feel like a benefit is that any time you mess something up, you feel about three times more stupid than you would if you were by yourself. 

How were you supposed to guess that instead of cutting down through the melon when you try to slice it in half, the tip of the giant knife you’re using would come jutting out of the melon and embed itself in your palm. 

You gasp and pull away on instinct, and for a second, can only stare at the strangeness of it. You can see straight through to the inside of your hand, which is as unsettling as it is sickening, freezing you in morbid fascination until blood wells to the surface and your brain catches up to what’s happened. 

“What?” Carmy asks flatly, having heard your gasp and well used to your kitchen mishaps. 

You tear a paper towel off the roll, jamming it over the wound and fisting your hand around it. “I cut myself,” you say, somewhat shakily. 

“How bad?” 

You look down at the knife, miraculously clean-looking despite the blood now flowing from your hand. The paper towel is already starting to feel damp with it. 

You use your good hand to take the knife out of the melon, setting it in the sink so you don’t forget to wash it. “I don’t—” You’ve never cut yourself this deep before. You don’t know how bad is bad. “It seems not great.” 

You startle when a tattooed hand wraps around your elbow. 

“Chill,” Carmy says, turning you around to face him. He takes your wrist. “Open your hand.” 

“I can’t.” Panic makes your throat hot and tight. “It’s bleeding a lot.” 

“Let me see,” he says, trying to pry your fingers away from your curled-up hand. 

“I think it’s fine.” There are tears in your voice, and sometimes you wish Carmy was the type of person whose emotions naturally adjusted to balance out those around him, but your alarm only works him up. 

“Let me see,” he insists sharply, and you don’t have the will to resist, letting him unfold your fingers. You flinch as he removes the paper towel, blood running quickly into the crevices of your palm. 

“Shit,” Carmy hisses, tugging it over the sink. Your hand looks like a delta of crimson streams. He picks the paper towel up again, dabbing roughly so he can see the cut better. 

“Do you think it needs stitches?” you worry aloud, then immediately want to hit yourself. Even if he says it does, you think you’ll push back, too fearful of hospitals and needles and odd, stinging pains to consent to getting them. 

Your boyfriend is quiet, bending close to your hand as he lifts the paper towel again, and your voice goes a bit shrill. “Carm?” 

“No,” he says, staunching the wound again. 

Relief washes over you like a warm tide. Still, you ask, “How do you know?” 

Carmy presses your fingers closed like they had been, loosing a breath as he gives your fist a light squeeze. “I’ve seen enough cuts that do need stitches to know the difference. What the hell did you do?” 

You try to breathe out like he had, but your chest still feels too tight. You can feel your heart beating in your hand. “I don’t know,” you admit. “The knife slipped and went through the skin, or, like, the peel.” 

His brows knit together, and Carmy picks your knife up from the sink. You have no clue what he sees that you don’t, his eyes narrowing, but he shoots you a look once he’s done, setting it back down. 

“It’s dull,” he says, like this is a punishable offense. Maybe in his kitchen, it is. “This is why we keep our knives sharp, so these fuck-ups don’t happen.” 

“How was I supposed to know sharp knives were less dangerous?” You’re trying to joke, but your voice comes out watery. You press your lips together as adrenaline catches up to you, your vision blurring. 

“Relax.” Carmy sounds tired. His grip is strong, though, as he wrestles you into a hug, thick arms banding across your shoulders. You feel stupid, and silly, and he can tell, his hand cupping the back of your neck as tears carve hotly down your cheeks. “You’re just supposed to know.” 

You laugh wetly, breaking up some of the emotion knotted in your chest. Carmy pulls back until he can see your face. His hand moves to the side of your neck, thumb pressed against your jaw. 

“You’re okay,” he says firmly. “Does it hurt?” 

You shake your head. “Not really, I was just scared.” Your lips wobble pathetically, tears dribbling off your chin. “And you yelled at me.” 

Carmy blows out a breath, his mouth slanting wryly. “That wasn’t yelling,” he says, but brings his other hand to your face, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you choke out, pushing against his hands until he gives in, letting you fold yourself into his chest again. “I’m sorry I didn’t sharpen my knife.” 

“I’ll do it for you later.” You can feel his biceps bulging as he tightens his grip on you, holding you closer. “But there’s no fucking way we’re using that melon now.” 

#mae🪽 #the bear #I’m obsessed

[fourmoony]

happy mother’s day to that mom who sold y/n to one direction

[fourmoony]

The world is on fire and recently, everything feels a bit hopeless. But I saw the northern lights with a friend in our home town, basically on our door step, and for that tiny little moment I was reminded that we live in such a wonderful universe, capable of so many beautiful things, and I felt able to breathe.

Fifty people, standing on the edge of a loch close to midnight, staring at the sky. There was no hatred, no political divide, just pure joy. It was magical. These moments are the reason I keep going.

Hope ya’ll got to see the lights if you were in an area of visibility. Sending love. So much love.

#halle sees the northern lights #I cried #it was beautiful

[fourmoony]

My mum always says that I make everyone else’s problems my own, and I take them too personally. I’m always very mindful of this when I use my social media to talk about world/political issues. I’ve been trying to find the words for a long, long time to describe how hateful, how soul crushing, and heart breaking I find the current war in Palestine to be.

I spent the majority of yesterday reading articles and watching videos about the recent updates that Israeli forces are moving in on Rafah. From what I understand, hundreds of thousands of Palestinians have been forced to evacuate towards Egypt, where there are army tanks blockading many paths of travel. I cannot comprehend the fear these innocent people must feel, the terror, the heart ache, the mourning of their families and their beautiful country.

I cried. I cried and cried and wondered how there can be so much hate in the world. So much disdain and violence. I feel rage, too. White hot rage that takes over me every time I try to type something out. So I remained silent, until now.

I feel innately powerless. I am ashamed to be a UK citizen. I am ashamed to be any part of a country that is doing little to nothing to help, and part of a country who have such a shocking, horrifying history within the whole of the world, including Palestine and Israel.

Something that helped me feel less useless in this terrifying, cruel world, was signing the petition on Oxfam’s website for a lasting cease fire. I also donated to UNICEF and Red Cross

I know we’re living in the middle of an economical crisis. I wasn’t able to donate as much as I desired, but every single penny helps. For people who cannot donate, that’s more than okay! Spreading awareness and speaking up and signing petitions means the world over.

This isn’t something that will pass. This is genocide. And Palestine must be free.

#palestine #free palestine #free free palestine

[fourmoony]

Naala update!!

She is thriving. Literally. She’s started eating and playing and has been laying by us (she still isn’t keen on being fussed over, and that’s okay!). She is sooo confident and it all happened so quickly <3 one minute she was hiding behind my bed and the next she’s chasing birds along the window sill🥹🥹🥹🥹

I cried when she started eating because she’s so skinny and we don’t know the last time she ate as she was in hiding in a house and it took us a couple days to find her.

But this baby has sooo much personality. I love her so much🥹 never thought I’d be a cat person but here we are!

#halle talks shit #halle adopts a cat? #naala the queen #seriously though the birds are not safe

[fourmoony]

Naala is making biscuits behind my bed with a blanket. Is this a good sign?? I just wanna do right by her guys😃😃

#making biscuits is like a good thing right? #I see it on tik tok all the time

[fourmoony]

It’s been a week! (and it’s only Wednesday)

I adopted a cat. Listen, I’m allergic to cats. But an unexpected circumstance meant that a family member had to rehome this baby and me and my mum decided the best option would be for her to come live with us.

Her name is Naala, she’s 3 years old, and a Maine Coon. She is the sweetest, most timid baby. I went and bought all the stuff for her to thrive in my house, I’ve booked to get a permanent antihistamine jag (we’ll see how that goes🫣), and we have all of her papers, certificates, and all necessary information on how to look after her properly.

I wanted to rename her Luna (because I thought her name was Narla, for some reason, and I hated it), but when we got her birth certificate, the name at birth actually turned out to be Lunaa Naala, which was super crazy and felt meant to be. Her nickname is Moony. I’ll let yall figure out why. (Even tho she’s a lady)

Meet Naala🩶

#halle talks shit #halle adopts a cat? #stay tuned for naala updates #I’m a cat lady now #my dog is not impressed btw #poor Bella

[fourmoony]

James and reader having a lazy weekend!! They usually have pretty active weekends due to errands and seeing friends, but this weekend has been made the LAZY WEEKEND! Lots of eepy cuddles in bed and on the couch, easy meals with yummy snacks, and movies on 24/7!! Cozy pajamas with only the softest blankets too teehee

I love this!! I need a lazy weekend with Jamie and I need it NOW! Thanks for requesting, sweetheart!!

cw: brief mention of sex, 800 words

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this level of content. It’s a peace that blankets your entire apartment, your entire body, right down to your muscles and bones. For the first time, you’re not thinking about the million errands that need to be run, the assignments that are piling high for various different classes, or birthday dinners, nights out with friends, sports games that you have to cheer at. Everything is quiet. Even the television, of which has been turned down to a significantly low volume, is quiet.

On a normal day, you’d feel like a slob. Almost an entire weekend on the couch, eating takeout and snacks, letting the dishes pile up, the washing basket overflow, and your phone go ignored would usually have your nerves on end. But you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when James has you tucked into his chest, a leg nestled between yours, and his hands rubbing incessant circles on the skin of your hip. You’re both lying facing the television, watching what’s probably your fifth movie of the day.

Every morsel of your being feels calm. You're grateful for your life, especially so that you get to live it with James and your friends. But there's always something happening, always some event or dinner and you really do enjoy them, enjoy spending time with the people you love, but it's nice, for once, to just be lazy. It's nice to lay on the couch and watch movie after movie and eat shitty takeout with your boyfriend.

You're sure the noise of your chaotic lives will resume first thing on Monday morning. But it's Sunday afternoon and you're floating on the high of your boyfriend's lazy touches and a weekend spent doing nothing.

"I wish we did this more often." James mumbles into your shoulder, as though he's been reading the very thoughts running through your mind.

His voice is laced with lethargy, a lazy husk that would make you kiss him silly if you weren't so comfortable. You sigh wistfully in agreement. The calm and quiet of it all is great, but even more so, you love just being close to James. You love the quality time and the lazy cuddles, the slow sex and the feeling of him constantly surrounding you. "Me too. Our lives are too hectic." You agree.

James grumbles a laugh and the feeling of his chest rumbling against your back makes you smile. "You'd rather be a social recluse?" Your boyfriend teases.

His pointer finger and thumb pinch the skin of your hip playfully. You roll your eyes at his teasing. "No," You deny, rather petulantly, "It's just... we're always doing something. I'd like a couple days a month where we can just exist. You know?"

He hums thoughtfully, thumb smoothing over his pinch mark. "I'm sure if we try we can make that happen, baby."

Your muscles protest when you turn in his grasp, chest to chest, until you're looking up into his stupidly beautiful eyes. James' eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. How bright they were, how when he smiled, they lit up like fairy lights strung across the most perfect landscape. They never fail to steal the breath from you, a melted honey-hazel colour you wish you could bottle up and sell, if only to make yourself a millionaire so you and James would never have to work, again, so you could spend all day every day snuggled on the couch, watching shitty Channel Five movies.

His eyes steal the breath from your lungs, now. James looks at you with such gentleness, such love, that your chest constricts and you feel that overwhelming, all consuming sense of love that only he has ever made you feel. "Really?" You ask, ghost of a smile on your lips.

It makes James smile wide, your evident happiness to his suggestion. He's so giving, so caring. Sometimes, the amount of love you have for him feels like it might swallow you whole, crush you into a thousand tiny pieces.

"Really. We'll find time. 'Cause it matters." His words are final.

You hum happily, push your face as far into James' sleep shirt clad chest as it will go. His arms tighten around you, warmth and the familiar scent of him encompassing your very being. Right now, this moment here, you never want to leave it.

"I love you." You tell him, and the words don't feel enough. They don't feel like justification for the way you feel about James Potter. They never will.

James' lips are soft and warm as they find the skin of your forehead, a reassuring kiss left there that you think means James gets it, and he feels the same. "To the moon and the stars."

"And all the way back?"

James huffs a laugh, arms squeezing even tighter. "And all the way back."

#marauders #james potter #fourmoonys asks #james potter fic #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter x reader #james potter x f!reader #james potter fluff #james potter angst #marauders era #marauders fic #marauders imagine #sirius black #remus lupin #fourmoony #angst #love #fluff #smut

[fourmoony]

i’m sending you a heart right back pretty girl 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

This is so sweet🥹 thanks angel🫶🏻

#fourmoonys asks #lova ya!

[fourmoony]

Drunk and unwilling to tell my friends that I’m crying (once again) because James potter isn’t real. SMH.

#halle talks shit #Halle gets drunk #guys it’s been a hard week cut me some slack please

[fourmoony]

Jesus fucking Christ this man is so James potter coded and I am UNWELL about it😫😫😫😫

#marauders #james potter #hasan piker

[fourmoony]

Walked out with a 79%. Ten marks over the pass mark we’ll take it <3 major Friday slay. Time for a nap😃

Walking into this human anatomy closed book exam with no sleep, no thoughts, just a red bull and a dream.

Happy weekend my lovelies! <3

#halle talks shit #Halle passes her test #slay

[fourmoony]

Walking into this human anatomy closed book exam with no sleep, no thoughts, just a red bull and a dream.

Happy weekend my lovelies! <3

#halle talks shit #seriously though I didn’t study #something about atrial ventricular is the only god damn thing I know #brain empty

[fourmoony]

I’ve been picking up so many extra shifts and today is my first session w my new PT that I’m gonna have to leave early because I accidentally double booked myself and need to have time to go home and shower before my eight hour shift ON PALLET DAY🥲🥲🥲 (the day we get all of our stock and it’s like a mad house trying to shelve it all)

Also have a closed book exam tomorrow. A very important exam. That I have not studied for. Send help.

#halle talks shit #I’m just a girl why do I do this to myself #I also have to put together a gift basket for a fundraiser I’m attending on Saturday #because I’m working all day Saturday before it #I never know when to stop

[fourmoony]

Sometimes I think I’d love for hot stoner bf Remus to be real so we can get high with in our cute lil apartment and then I remember the time I got high while on a camping trip and ripped apart the campsite looking for my phone while using said phone as a flash light :)

All of this is also a funny post because I dated a guy who used to deal and he reminded me so much of Remus but I could never tell him because how do you even bring that up??? “Hey did you know you remind me of Harry Potter’s dead dad’s werewolf best friend? But not like from the movies, no, from the lore” that’s a mood killer

#halle talks shit #seriously though I cannot handle the za

[fourmoony]

Reading my half written drafts and having the nerve to go ‘omg what happened next?’

#marauders #halle talks shit