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#or whatever emotions people feel from this series.
the-badger-mole · 2 days
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You know what really irked me, even as a kid watching ATLA? Any time Aang vented about his crush on Katara to anyone, they would pat his head and assure him she would come around eventually. Some even implied since he's the Avatar, she basically has to. No one ever told Aang to maybe respect Katara's boundaries and choices, and not see friendship as a stepping stone to being her boyfriend. That bothered me then, and it bothers me even more now.
It should bother EVERYONE! One of the things I hate about Kataang- the MAIN thing I hate about Kataang- is how little Katara matters in the relationship. She is Aang's prize. Whatever she might actually want for herself is irrelevant. I hate how little care was given into Katara's side of this relationship. It was so poorly developed that when pressed, the only examples of Katara's feelings being more than friendship are that last scene in "The Fortuneteller", which has Katara literally only considering Aang for half a second because someone outside of herself pointing out that he was a powerful bender, and then never mentioning it again, or that scene in "The Headband", which has Katara giving Aang bedroom eyes FROM HIS PERSPECTIVE, but again, not talking about it or giving him any actual signal that she wants to pursue something with him. I'm convinced the only reason those scenes exist is because Bryke were just aware enough of how romance should be structured that they knew that Katara should have some sort of participation in the romance. Too bad they didn't care enough about her feelings to actually center her feelings.
Meanwhile, Aang's feelings get explored, discussed (with everyone EXCEPT Katara) and validated. We can't NOT know how he feels. The reason all those people reassuring Aang that he'll get Katara is so insidious is because Aang never considers her feelings. He can't even fathom her turning him down. It never crosses his mind that her answer might be no. That she has the right to say no. So when she says no in EIP (and it was a no. If👏🏿 it's👏🏿 not👏🏿 a👏🏿 yes, 👏🏿it's👏🏿 a 👏🏿no👏🏿), Aang can't respect that boundary. He stomps over that boundary because he's the Avatar, and he wants her, so of COURSE she's not going to turn him down. She can't say no to him. And Bryke agree with him! They don't ever address how messed up it was for Aang to kiss Katara without her consent TWICE, and they don't ever address Katara's feelings. Instead they make it so the only charitable explanation for why Katara's feelings changed between EIP and the finale is that she feels like she owes Aang.
She is not romantically interested in Aang until the moment she sees him on stage being hailed as tH3 r3@L h3R0!!!11!!! He was the Avatar she'd been hoping for. He ended the war. He wanted her. Bryke, instead of giving Katara moments of having Aang support her, give emotional validation, or even just helping her with chores without being a baby about it, ignored developing Katara's feelings altogether-ignored the fact that Zuko was right there giving her in like 5 episodes what Ang never gave her in the entire series- in favor of presenting her as a literal prize for their boy.
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yooglefics · 3 days
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The casual type: 02 . The guys are annoying
Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader  Wordcount: 3,252 words Genre ( for the whole series ): AU. College!verse. Strangers to friends with benefits to ?????. Eventual smut. Hurt / comfort at times. And fluff for cute friends.  Summary:  ( Series ) • Hobi and his girlfriend set you up with a friend of hers to help with whatever happened months back. However, no one really expected things to end the way they did. ( Ep. 02 ) • Deciding to move on from the blind date, you go to a party with your friends expecting to have some fun, but things take a turn after a confession is made. More warnings under read more.
Warnings ( for this chapter ): People drinking. People fighting, don't worry, no one gets hurt physically, just some feelings. So I guess also: some angst and comfort. Author's note: Last chapter hit 100 notes yesterday, so I thought I’d drop this as a thank you to all who commented, liked and reblogged, it means a lot <3 Let me know what you think about this one and as always, thank you for reading!
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Hearing Ms. Han talk about the syllabus and grading system is particularly boring today. Not only have you heard and read pretty much the same information numerous times just the first week of your second year at university, but friday night's events keep replaying in your head and provide much better entertainment.
Until you get to the part where Yoongi rejects you and walks you back into the bar, of course.
Frustrated scribbles appear on your notebook once again and you add little question marks around it for good measure. An accurate representation of your emotion, perhaps you can turn it in as one of your assignments this semester.
At lunch, you make your way to the cafeteria, joining Jimin and Taehyung at your usual table in the corner right by the big windows. They acknowledge your presence with a smile in your direction and you return it sitting down.
“How was your date last friday?” Jimin is the first to ask, but you know both want to know.
“As good as blind dates go,” keeping details out is your strategy.
But Taehyung isn’t having it. “What did you guys talk about? Did you dance?”
Thankfully Hoseok and Jungkook arrive to your rescue, the youngest one leaving a food tray in front of you before taking a seat to your right. Neither of you remembers exactly when it started, but sometime in highschool you agreed that whoever arrived first would get lunch for the both of you.
“Mai wants to know if you guys want to go to a party on friday.”
“If you guys go, I’ll go,” is always Tae’s answer.
“Whose party? The sports guys are throwing one too and not to be biased b–”
“You’re biased, but we forgive you,” Jimin interjects Jungkook and everyone laughs because is true.
“Well, it's the first party of the semester so it’ll be epic. I think we should go.”
Parties organized by a bunch of athletes wouldn’t be your thing if only for the fact that your best friend is a member of the soccer team and the group pretty much gets a special invite by association.
“She says that’s fine if she is allowed to come,” Hobi says, eyes still on his phone. “And if she can bring someone, a student here.”
Jungkok nods, “Just give me their names to put them on the list for nice drinks.”
“She has a friend that goes here? Why haven’t we been introduced?” Jimin asks before you can.
“Yeah, Yoongi. He just transferred.”
Your head picks up at the name. Looking at Hobi to ask why he didn’t let you on that information when they set up the date. Before you kissed him and got rejected making a fool of yourself.
“Wait, wasn’t that your—” 
“I have to go check something about my room assignment,” you stand up before Tae can finish his question. Or starts an interrogation, per se. “See you later.”
There are things you actually have to do, so you don’t feel completely bad about running away from the conversation. And maybe this school year you should add making a female friend to your vision board because having to deal with a bunch of guys keeps proving to be difficult at times.
Quicker than you would like, friday rolls around and so does the afternoon and the party. Jungkook reminds in the group chat that someone has to drive you since he’s busy helping with setting up and Hobi replies with a time you should be ready at, so he can pick you up after going to Mai’s.
You sit cross-legged on the bed your roommate is supposed to occupy doing your make-up, different products set around you trying to decide what, and even if, you should add something else. With a dramatic sight, you declare that as another reason why having a roommate (and hopefully a friend) to share the place with, would be nice. For now, Jimin is the best help you can get and your phone buzzes with his answer to the pic you just sent, telling you to add the sparkly eye shadow he helped you choose last time at the mall. You thank him and do as told.
While putting everything away, wasting time while waiting for Hobi, the red translucent tub of cherry lip gloss caughts your eyes and before you can start another indecisive spiral that would need Jimin's help, you apply it to your lips and throw it into your bag just in case. Telling yourself that you’ve decided to be open to whatever life gave you even before the kiss with Yoongi happened, and a university party is the first place you should be prepared for anything.
Relief washes over you when Yoongi isn’t in the car with Mai and Hobi, glad you don’t have to spend time with him around the cavity-induced couple. And Mai calms your curiosity about her friend’s whereabouts even when you don’t wonder out loud, saying he is already there.
You hang out with your friends for a couple of hours, but getting nasty looks from the ones who are trying their luck with them turns from funny to annoying rather quickly tonight, and you wonder if it is going to get worse as the semesters go on. Or maybe is you who is becoming less immune to it all.
“Can I get you a refill, sweetie?” recognizing the voice is the only reason you aren’t mad at the pet name straight away. Instead, the corners of your mouth turn up into a smile.
“If you would be so kind, please.”
And he is. Bogum always is. You met him last year, and even after turning down a date invitation because you thought he was making fun of you, he didn’t push, nor stop talking to you or being nice, like others of his teammates have done after rejection. Bo is kind, and sometimes you wish he would invite you out again.
While Bogum reaches the fridge’s door and takes a bottle of beer, you take the rest of the one in your hand and leave the empty bottle on the counter the basketball player was just leaning in.
He opens the beer with the help of his keyring before handing it to you. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem, sweetie,” he smiles, dimple flashing. “Oh, your eyes sparkle!”
You giggle at the surprise in his voice. “Yeah, is the eyeshadow. Isn’t it cute?”
“Yes. They are.”
Is your turn to be surprised, turning away in an attempt to hide your blush, and mentally thanking Jimin for his advice. Maybe tonight would end with—
Yoongi?
Brown eyes look your way from the other side of the kitchen island. Closing the alcohol bottle, he nods when they catch yours. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Oh, hey,” Bo’s attention is finally taken away from you, “Yoongi’s new, he is trying for the team. This is—”
“Y/n” Yoongi finishes.
“You know each other?”
“Something like that. His friend is Hobi’s girlfriend,” you explain before Yoongi can say anything else.
“Mai?” You nod, and the next question is directed at Yoongi. “So, are you like… close with Hoseok and the guys?”
“Mostly Hobi, but yes, I would say we are friends.”
“O-okay,” Bo nods twice in understanding, before excusing himself to check on the drinks supply outside and leaving you two alone in the kitchen. Is not even his team’s party, so you find it a little odd at first before blaming it on his kind personality, and assuming he is probably just helping.
Sipping your beer, your eyes lose Bogum in the crowd and go back to Yoongi and his grin behind the red cup.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he dismissed, but the feeling of you missing out on something is even bigger now.
“Why do you look like the Cheshire cat, then?”
“Of all the cats you had to compare me to him?” he makes a face, as if that is the most important thing now. “He is creepy.”
“Spill it out. You clearly know something.”
“Oh… you don’t?”
Eyes narrowed, can’t tell if he is making fun of you or not. Is frustrating. Not only him but the feeling of being out of the loop. That’s the only thing you hate sometimes about hanging just with the guys, when they get all secretly about their hookups and what not, changing the topic when you are in the room. You get it, they get nervous and respect you, even overprotect you with those things, but it doesn't matter how hard they try, or maybe you just got really good at it, you still catch their silent communication. The looks thrown that mean an inside joke.
“Boys are annoying,” you murmur, frustrated.
“So you do know? He just cares about you.”
“Who?”
“Hobi…?”
“What?” confusion lasts a few seconds, washed away when the conversation with Bogum plays back in your head. The mention of Hobi before he excused himself. And…
Oh.
Oh, no.
Heck no.
Feet move before you realize, Yoongi’s voice feeding out as you push past people who don’t seem to even notice and just a couple who throw you an annoyed look when you walk between them. You don’t care, the only thing on your mind is finding your friend.
And there he is, in the middle of the improvised dance floor that is normally a living room. “Come with me,” you request pulling on his arm.
“Did something happen? Are you okay?”
You don't answer, reserving explanations until you're in the hallway away from the music.
“Y/n, what happened?”
“What did you say to him?”
“To whom?”
“Bogum. What did you tell him?”
“I-I don't know,” Hoseok is avoiding your eyes now, a clear indication of being caught on something. “What did he say?”
“Well,” trying to calm down, you take a breath before continuing, “he said my eyes are pretty and then—” 
“What happened?” Asks Jimin, appearing at the hallway’s entrance followed by Taehyung.
“Are you fighting? Why are you fighting?”
“Hoseok did something and doesn't want to tell me,” perhaps having the others on your side to put pressure on the dancer would be a good strategy.
“What did you do?” Taehyung asks and not even three seconds of silence go by before he continues, “oh… she found out.”
“You knew?!” To heck being calm. “You were all on it? What's wrong with you guys?!”
“It's all on me, don't blame them.” Hobi defenses, his voice much softer than yours.
“No, no. Even if we found out after, we agreed it was a good idea, babe. I'm sorry.” Jimin corrects, and an apology by Tae follows.
“What did you say to him?” You insist.
“Listen, after that night,” Hoseok begins, referring to that spring night you cried in his living room until your head hurt and then some more because of the headache. Just the memory makes you squirm a little. “I knew something went on with one of them, and I knew you wouldn't tell me but also that I couldn't let it happen again. That I wasn't going to let it happen. So…” he pauses, looking at the others before coming back to you, “I told them to better not get close to you.”
Your mouth opens and closes a few times in shock, “To the whole team?!” Is your first question because, well, is he insane?
“I guess? It was at practice so most of them were there.”
“And the ones who weren't found out later. Word travels fast and even faster if it's about someone threatening to break their noses for messing with a girl.” Taehyung adds, taking your attention away from Hobi.
“Is that what this is about? Me being a girl?” You argue, “because that's bullshit! And misogynistic. Why can you go to parties and kiss whoever without me making a big deal? Why do you get to tell people to not talk to me, and they actually listen, but I have to sit in class hearing about my hot friends? Or even give advice on how to talk with you guys?” Glancing around at them, your arms fall to your sides, defeated, “Do you have any idea how many people have tried to befriend me just so they could be close to you?”
Three pairs of eyes are on you, making you incredibly aware of the volume of your voice over the music playing through the walls, being a few rooms over making it softer than in the living room, and you can't tell if it's the alcohol or the anger making you go on that rant, the only thing that you're sure about is the pain on your chest and the tears threatening to fall.
Ever the proudest, you refuse to cry in front of them. Not this time.
“Whatever. Go back to shove your tongue down someone's throat and then don't tell me about it.” Pushing between Jimin and Taehyung you leave your friends in the hallway, holding your beer in a fist to prepare to cross the sea of sweaty people once more.
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The breeze of cold air is interrupted, and you complain out loud, sure that the probably drunk student isn't going to pay attention anyway.
You're sitting on the sidewalk in front of the soccer house, hands on your knees and head on top of them, thinking about calling Jungkook and asking him to take you home. Good thing you didn't freak out on him. 
But maybe you should. He probably knew too.
You groan again, lifting your head ready to ask whoever to move so you can keep enjoying the night's breeze and calm down, but your complaint stays in your throat when Yoongi and his leather jacket welcome you to reality.
“For a second I thought you were sleeping,” left corner of his mouth curves up slightly.
“It would be a nightmare.”
“Are you saying that because is me or because of whatever happened inside?” You don't answer, and he continues, “Hobi is looking for you.”
“Yeah? And he sent you over? Apparently you're best friends now.” The annoyance in your voice is even surprising to you, so when his smile fades you don't blame him.
“He just told me to keep an eye out for you, tell him if I saw you.”
“You did?” You gesture to the phone in his hand.
“Not yet. I wanted to apologize first.”
Another pause, and you don't move while he sits down by your side.
After Hobi’s confession and the fact that Yoongi appeared to know back in the kitchen, you wonder if your friend also said something to him, if that's the reason he pushed you away last week.
“I don't need an apology, I just want people to be honest,” you look at him, “can you do that?” 
“I want to give you one, though. So, I'm sorry,”  he offers, sincerely “and yes, I promise to be honest.”
“Thank you.” The wind blows your hair, and you tuck it back behind your ear before questioning, “Did he threaten you too? Is that what the apology is about? why you said you couldn't do casual with me?”
“Kind of. I mean, he didn't ask me to stay away, he and Mai planned the date, after all,” is true so you nod. “But he told me about what he did and why he did it, and I… I couldn't bring myself to have something like that with you and it turning out bad.”
“Because you are scared of Hobi?” You scoff. Stupid boys.
“No. Because I didn't want you to get hurt.” He looks at you, “I don't know the details, but for Hobi to act like that it sounded like it was bad, whatever happened. And I'm just a guy, but I've had my heart broken too and don't want to cause that pain to anyone.”
“I'm not gonna get my heart broken because you don't want something serious, Yoongi.” Yes, you were upset he cut you off that day, but he told you he didn't want a relationship since the beginning so you knew not to take it seriously. To take responsibility if you did.
“Still. You can't really be mad if people try to look out for you, can you?”
“Is… is not that. Is about people not even letting me make my own choices,” you correct. “Is authoritarian and patronizing. And coming from my friends? It feels like they don't even know me.”
“I see…” Yoongi gives you a small smile that makes you realize the tiny pout on your lips. “But as someone who has been on bad nights with his best friend crying over stupid boys, sometimes it feels impotent and we want to make it all better. Even if that means threatening the whole university.”
“Are you on their side, then?”
“I'm just saying that I understand both sides. And that guys can be erratic and dumb when it comes to protecting the people we care about. But, if you ask me, you have the right to call us out. Because again, we are dumb,” that gets a smile from you.
“I think I got too far, though,” you admit, feeling bad now. Yoongi is right, even if it was dumb, your friends had good intentions. They just need a better way of protecting you.
“I heard you guys fought.”
“More like I screamed at them and ran off.”
“Was that on purpose? So they would be worried?”
“What? No. Of course not.” You're quick to deny, the simple idea of it is absurd to you.
“Well, then maybe you should answer their calls and tell them you're okay. They are worried about you.”
And that seems to be the night's theme, but you're confused because your phone hasn't been ringing all this time. Wondering if perhaps you accidentally put it on silent, you take it out of your bag only to realize the battery is dead.
“Damn it.”
“Here,” Yoongi offers you his, Hobi’s contact information on the screen.
“Thanks,” you smile, calling and putting the phone against your ear, covering the other one so you can hear over the noises around the garden.
“Hey, did you see her? Can you stay–”
“Hey,” you cut him off, “is me.”
“Oh, is her!” Mai's content voice after he announced is barely audible and you're glad she was by his side. But also feel bad about worrying her too. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine. I'm outside. I wasn't going to go anywhere else in the middle of the night by myself, I'm not dumb,” oh, you're still angry.
“I know. I know you aren't. I was just worried.”
“I know, I'm sorry.”
“No, no. I'm sorry, it's my fault. I'm so sorry.”
He sounds genuine and the worry in his voice gets to you, incapable of being as mad as before.
“I… think we should talk about it. Like, the whole thing.” You hope he knows you mean including the night months back, “but not here and not tonight.”
“Of course, whenever you want.” He pauses, “Want me to take you home? Or talk with Bogum and come back?”
You smile at the last suggestion, “Thanks, but no. I'll ask Yoongi to take me.” You look at him, still sitting at your side, and he nods.
“Will do. And I'll text him when we arrive.”
“You heard that?”
“Yes. Tell him I say thank you.”
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Author's note: I'm accepting theories on what you think happened with Reader and about anything, to be honest, just would like to know what you think, so hop to the askbox asdf <3 ♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @nariee02 , @sexytholland , @itsmina29 , @ktownshizzle .
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beskarandblasters · 2 days
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Stonecatcher - Chapter Four: What a Wicked Game to Play, to Make Me Feel This Way
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Series Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist | Series Playlist Artwork: The Lovers by René Magritte Gif: @cherubispunk
Series summary: You’re an arms dealer living on Dantooine when you cross paths with an up-and-coming bounty hunter. What starts as a business relationship quickly becomes more. How long can you bury your emotions and be a stonecatcher for someone else before you finally snap?
Series warnings: instant smut but slow burn romantically, angst, use of Mando’a words/phrases, no use of y/n
Chapter summary: You hire an assistant and secretly hope it makes Mando jealous. Word count: 3k
Chapter warnings: fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie
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One standard month.  
It’s been one standard month since you’ve seen Mando. You’re trying not to fixate on the larger gap of time and what it could mean. You’ve hardly had the time anyway. Casia’s a whole new place. With the changing of the seasons and the influx of travelers, the village has been transformed from a small, off-the-beaten-path type of town to a bustling hub in between major cities. 
But when you’re alone at night, the thoughts of Mando seep in. 
Where is he?
When will you see him again? 
Does he think of you, too? 
You sit in silence with the truth, letting it eat away at you at night. It’s in the back of your mind, hiding out of the corner of your eye. Never facing it head-on. That’s admitting defeat. It’s easier to pretend that the truth is something much kinder. 
With the new breath of life in Casia, your business has also grown. The requests from your regular customers for more obscure, specific stuff have been overwhelming, combined with the new customers you’ve accumulated. You’ve had to make more trips to Coruscant for supply runs over the past two months. You’re anxious that Mando will pass through town when you’re not home. 
The reality is, that you’re running yourself ragged to Coruscant, three times since you last saw Mando. And you’re barely living life. You think you might have to hire an assistant and you don’t even know where to begin. Sulee will know what to do and even amid all the chaos, you’ll always squeeze in time for her words of wisdom. 
It’s the middle of the week and later in the day. If you don’t go now Sulee will be in bed already. Inventory can wait until tomorrow. 
When you leave your house the streets of Casia are crowded, but that’s the norm lately. It won’t last long, though. Nighttime is about to settle in and the crowd will migrate to the cantina like they always do. With all of the business Casia’s seen lately you wonder how Sulee’s been handling it. And then you feel guilty again for not checking in and a pit forms in your stomach. 
Not now, you tell yourself. 
Her light is still on so you slowly let yourself in, peering around the door and looking at her as he sits in front of her trusty wood-burning stove. She’s stirring a pot and whatever she’s cooking up smells delicious. And like always, it’s impossibly warm inside, sweat forming on the back of your knees and down your spine. 
“What are you cooking?” you ask, sitting on a stool on the other side of the stove.
“Soup. Been feeling under the weather.”
“It’s from all the people passing through I bet. You don’t think you should close until the busy season is over?”
She looks at you like you have five heads. 
“And miss out on all this business? You’re crazy.”
“I just worry about you!”
“Don’t. I’m fine. I have my soup.”
You sigh and wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. 
“So what is it that you need? I know you didn’t come here to lecture me about getting sick,” she says playfully, looking at you with a smirk. 
“I need advice.”
“Okay.”
“I’m struggling to do all of this by myself.”
“So hire someone.”
“You came to that conclusion rather quickly.”
“It’s an easy decision.”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“I’ll ask around for you.”
“Thanks,” you say, reaching over the pot and grabbing her hand. Even though she’s sitting by the fire her hands are as cold as ice. 
She lets go of your hand, lifts the ladle she’s stirring, and asks, “Want some?”
“Sure,” you smile. A warm feeling runs through you, and not just because of how hot it is. For once you feel like you’re at peace like how things were before everything changed.
-
The next morning you’re greeted with a swift and strong knock on your door. You came home at a decent hour last night since Sulee turns in rather early. Yet when you got in bed you couldn’t fall asleep. You were up late thinking about all the changes in your life lately. 
You pull yourself out of bed despite how hard it is, glancing at the clock after you rub your eyes. It’s mid-morning, not too early in the day. A perfectly reasonable time for someone to stop by. 
Another knock. 
You throw on a jacket so it’s not too obvious you’re in pajamas and open the door. It’s a man you’ve never seen before. He’s tall and burly, towering over you. He’s wearing a black tank top, both arms are covered in tattoos. They’re folded across his chest and they’re huge. You should be scared… but most if not all of your customers look like this. 
“...Can I help you?” you ask.
“I was sent by Sulee. You got a job opening?”
“...Oh! Wow, she found someone rather fast. Please, come in,” you say, stepping aside. 
He steps inside, looking around the room at your stock. You watch him as you close the door. And it seems you’ve already jumped to conclusions about him…
There’s not a thought behind those eyes. 
Don’t judge him just yet. 
“The name’s Kham… Sulee tells me you’re looking for an assistant,” he says, turning and facing you. 
“I am. What do you know about this industry?”
“I’m familiar with it. I… was part of a gang in the lower levels of Coruscant.”
“Really? How did you end up here?”
“I needed somewhere quiet to go after I got out of prison.”
Prison… He might be just what you need. 
“So what I’m hearing is you have contacts in the lower levels of Coruscant,” you say with a hopeful tone. 
He sighs. “I suppose I could reconnect with them if the price is right.” 
“Six hundred credits a week.”
“You got yourself a deal,” he says, extending his hand. 
You spend the first half of the day showing him your inventory, explaining to him how you do supply runs on Coruscant. You have a feeling that’s all about to change given his old contacts he’ll be reconnecting with. 
Hiring him already proves to be a big help because he points out a major flaw in your business– You keep all your product in the front room of your house. 
“Have you thought about moving all this shit?”
“...Should I?”
“It’s in your front room… You’re practically begging to be robbed.”
“Huh… You’re right.”
“Got any other place you could put it?”
“My basement?”
“Let’s go.”
You spend the rest of the day bringing everything down to the basement. And part of you feels a little silly for not keeping things this way from the start. 
As you lug boxes and copious amounts of blasters up and down the stairs you silently wonder what Kham went to prison for. But if there’s one thing you learned about working in this industry; you don’t ask questions. 
Now that you’ve spent the entire day moving boxes in your pajamas, you’re ready to be alone. You’re walking Kham out, telling him he doesn’t have to stop by so early the next day. And yet you lose your train of thought when your door opens. Standing under your light outside is Mando 
And as if seeing Mando triggered something for you, your mind is screaming over and over– ruusaan. 
He’s not leaving without telling you what that means. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kham!” you say, hastily bidding him goodbye so you can focus your full attention on Mando. 
“Who was that?” he asks casually. 
You secretly hope he’s jealous of Kham, jealous of a man who’s spending time with you. And yet he isn’t. 
“My new assistant.”
“Good for you.”
“…That’s… That’s all you have to say?”
“Glad you’re getting the help you need,” he shrugs. “It was getting a little crowded in here,” he says, finally stepping inside and closing the door behind him. 
You scoff and roll your eyes, stepping towards him and asking, “You buying anything tonight?”
“Maybe. I have to see what you’ve gotten since I’ve been here last,” he says, stepping away from you and walking around the room. “Where did you put it all?”
You’re frustrated. You haven’t seen him in two months and he can barely give you the time of day. He can’t pay any attention to you? 
“In the basement,” you sigh, rolling your eyes again and heading into your bedroom. 
“Where are you going?” he calls out. 
“You know where to find me when you’re done,” you say, quickly fixing yourself up. You take off the coat you were wearing all day and glance at the note he left you at one motel. It gets you thinking… You’re going to try something bold; waiting for him naked, flopping down on the bed while he searches through your inventory. 
You lie in bed and repeat to yourself the nickname over and over, like a mantra. 
Ruusaan.
Ruusaan. 
Ruusaan. 
Staring at the ceiling you wait for him like a dog with a bird at his doorstep. 
“I made a list of everything I’m taking,” he says in the hallway. He walks into your bedroom and sets the piece of paper on your dresser, turning and looking at you on the bed with a hand on his hip. 
“You’re…” he starts. 
“Naked? I know.”
“But…”
“That’s how this works, right? You come, you buy something, we have sex, no?”
He doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he sits on the foot of your bed with slumped shoulders. 
“I’m sorry that you needed to take care of me like that… You know, at the motel.”
“Why are you apologizing?”
“For the massage.”
“I wanted to do that,” you say, moving to sit beside him. 
“Why?”
“You seemed like you needed it.”
“That’s not a good reason.”
“I just wanted to help,” you shrug.
“Regardless… I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”
“It’s normal to need help from time to time, Mando,” you tell him, meeting his visor.
“Let me return the favor sometime and then we don’t have to talk about it again.”
Ouch.
“Okay,” you say, taking a deep breath. 
He’s so… delicate. It’s ironic considering his line of work, considering what he’s made of, considering who he is. But he’s not delicate in a physical way. He’s delicate emotionally in a way that makes you wonder… Who hurt him? Did he let his guard down once before? And did it prove to be a big mistake? 
“On your back for me,” he says gently, turning his helmet towards you. 
You linger for a moment, looking into his visor before obeying his commands. You know the drill; lie on your back and close your eyes, let him do his thing. 
A moistened finger teases your entrance before plunging itself inside you. A moan catches in your throat. He works your walls until you’re dripping, pushing the second finger inside. How you wish you could open your eyes. The boundaries he sets are so blurred, so arbitrary. It’s okay for you to suck his cock but seeing the skin of his hand is taboo. 
Before the added level of anonymity only excited you. Now you want to break through those walls and dig deeper into who he really is.
“Stop,” you say suddenly.
“Is everything alright?” he asks, sliding his fingers from you. 
“Can I open my eyes?”
“What-”
“I’m not asking to see your face…”
“I know but-”
“So I can see beneath the armor when I’m sucking your dick but when you’re fingering me.”
He doesn’t say anything so you continue.
“Why do you only drop your boundaries when it benefits you?”
You feel him shift on the bed. 
“Open your eyes.”
Finally.
You open your eyes and look down between your legs, his fingers are sliding back inside you. Your gaze snaps back up to his helmet, looking directly into his visor as he makes you writhe. 
“Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes…” you say with a shaky breath, voice jumping as he makes the come here motion with his fingers.
“You already gonna cum?” he asks, cocking his helmet to the side. You can only imagine how he’s looking at you.
“Mhm,” you moan, biting your lip. You cum around his thick fingers, your release soaking his hand. He pulls his fingers from your cunt, putting his hand in front of his helmet to look at this mess he made like he’s proud of it, rubbing his thumb against his index and middle fingers.
He kneels in between your thighs, cock straining against the fabric of his flight suit before pulling it out. Pre-cum leaks from the slit on the head, beading up before spilling over as he strokes himself. You spread your thighs farther apart, letting him hover over you as the tip of his cock teases your entrance. He’s so silent, the stone-cold stare of his visor stunning you into likewise silence. It all changes when he finally enters you. 
This time is different. Before he had you on a table. Then he bent you over the bed. At the motel, you rode him. But this time, you’re face-to-helmet, yet again imagining what he looks like under there. What does he look like when he’s feeling immense pleasure? What does he look like when his cock is buried deep inside someone?
You catch a distorted reflection of yourself in his helmet, mouth agape and moaning in pleasure. You feel his patch of pubic hair brushing against you every time his cock is buried to the hilt. It makes you want to look, wondering how he keeps himself groomed down there. Knowing what you know about him, it’s neat, almost meticulous. 
You look down but he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him again, holding your head in place as he rails you. Moans come out as pathetic whines while you’re reduced to a mess. His cock hits the perfect angle each time he draws his hips back and slams into you. Your orgasm is nearing. The tension in your core is about to snap. 
“Mando, I’m gonna-” you start but you’re cut off by your own moan. 
Your ears are ringing and your walls clench his cock, waves of pleasure washing over you in a euphoric symphony. And for once, you’re looking into the eyes of the person who is responsible for this feeling. At least you imagine you can see his eyes. 
Hot cum spills inside you as he lets out a deep grunt, cock inside you as deep as it’ll go. It’s then that he lets go of your chin and holds your hips, keeping you in place as he finishes. 
He pulls out swiftly and gets off the bed, retreating to the armchair in the corner of your room, thighs spread wide in an inviting stance. You sit up and look at him, watching as he catches his breath, modulated pants slipping out from under the helmet. Maker, you want to sit on his lap, letting him hold you until you drift off to sleep. But he couldn’t even be bothered to get in bed with you at the motel. You shouldn’t want him. You shouldn’t let yourself want him and yet you do. You can count all the times you’ve had sex on one hand and yet you want him to touch you, to cherish you, to love you. 
But his talents start at touching you and stop there. Why do you want him so bad?
Like an addict you crawl back to him, finding a home in his lap. He doesn’t protest like he probably would. He does owe you a back rub. But if this were any other scenario, any other circumstance, he’d be questioning you right now. 
You straddle his lap, knees by the outside of his thighs. You lean against his breastplate, head resting on his shoulder. He tugs off his glove before he drags his nails across your skin. He scratches your back soothingly, lulling you into a state of bliss. You ignore the pit in your stomach telling you that this is a one-time deal, that he never wants to talk about this again. Because once you feel cared for. You wonder if this is how you made him feel at the motel. Maybe he’s not used to being cared for or his needs being met. 
You’re lost in thought, replaying every moment since the fateful day you met him until now. Tonight was a win in terms of breaking down the barriers he set between you two. A small victory but you’ll take it. He seems like he requires real work, time, and energy. And that begs the question; can you change him? 
It seems like you’ve already been trying this whole time. 
“Hey, don’t fall asleep.” 
“Let me,” you half whine, nuzzling your face into the fabric of the chair. 
He lets out one of his famous sighs but ultimately gives in. 
“I did move a bunch of boxes all day,” you remind him. 
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he continues to scratch and rub your back. His gloved hand rests on the back of your neck. Before your mind goes completely fuzzy you think to ask about the nickname and remember to ask. 
“Mando?”
“Yes?”
“…What does that name mean… ruusaan?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
With that, you let yourself fall asleep. 
-
You wake up in your bed, alone of course. You roll over, glance at your dresser, and spot a hefty pile of credits. He must’ve paid and left. You pull yourself out of bed and glance at the list of stuff he purchased. The credits he left are more than enough. But on the bottom of the note it reads; 
Until next time, ruusaan. 
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Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics
Dividers: @saradika-graphics
Tag list: @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @clawdee @schnarfer @djarins-cyare @chiyo13 @burntheedges @pamasaur @littlegrungegirlaf @freelancearsonist @survivingandenduring @pedrostories
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romanarose · 3 days
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About a Girl Masterlist
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Beautiful header by my beloved @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
Joel Miller x Trans!Fem!Reader (Nickname, Blue)
Summary: Joel is a simple man. He goes to work, he takes care of his kindergarten age daughter, he tries to make sure Tommy doesn't die and occasionally Tess comes over. He works on Frank and Bill's farm with Tommy, Tess, and another coworker, Max. For his birthday, Tommy drags Joel out to a local grunge band's show, music he knows Joel hates. Joel is surprised to find Tess's girlfriends best friend, a girl they all call Blue because of the blue in her hair, has caught his attention.
What he doesn't know is she is trans. When he finds out, he's very confused, not because he judges her, but because he's not sure what it means for him. Does it make him gay? What does trans even mean? He's very confused. Still, despite all the confusion Joel has an open mind and he just knows that he has a lot of feelings for you and he wants to try. Joel goes on a journey of learning, not only what your trans identity means but also how to take care of himself, how to set boundaries, and learning he doesn't need carry the whole world on his shoulders.
Joel loves country, is as yeehaw as they come. Blue loves grunge, and looking as edgy as she can get by as a school teacher. Can you and Joel make it all work with the one thing that bonds them both together; flannel?
Warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter: 18+ ONLY!! I cannot warn against everything, but these are major themes. Joel is a lil ignorant but not out of hate. He just doesn't know. He's trying his best. There will be smut. Penetrative sex, all of the anal play, oral. There will be transphobia from other people. Addiction and alcoholism. QUICK child neglect not by Joel but I promise, Sarah is fine and is having a great time in life. Fetishization of women attracted to women by a shitty guy. Will update as needed. Again, this is adult content. Expect adult content.
Immersivity: Reader is transgender, AMAB female, reader has had gotten bottom surgery, not top, and is on hormones. reader has visible hair and a blue streak in hair, but not described. Could be braids, could be natural hair, whatever. Header is for aesthetics only. Reader is about Joel and Tommy's height. Let me know if i miss anything!
Themes: Found family, Tommy shitheadery (I love him), bi Aunt Tess, Joel recovering from emotional abuse, tired Joel trying to take care of everyone, grunge v country, lots of flannel, y'allternative (blending Joel's country life and reader's grunge life), Sarah Ellie friendship, Bill and Frank as the elder gays, Joel knows nothing about queerness and transness but by golly's he's trying, single dad Joel, good uncle Tommy, good uncle but also not very responsible and maybe has an addiction problem Tommy? lets find out!
Chapter 1: Joel is tired. Chapter 2: You help Joel relax Chapter 3: Blue comes out Chapter 4: Chapter 5: Chapter 6: Chapter 7: Chapter 8:
Made for Oscar Isaac/Pedro Pascal Pride Event
How to keep up with the series:
Follow About a girl series on tumblr
follow @romana-updates and turn on notifications
Ask to be tagged!
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onyxbird · 28 days
Note
Hello! I saw a post of yours saying you have a Leverage Hell AU series on Ao3. Any chance I can get the link to that? Thanks!
☠️ Warning ☠️: Consumption of Hell AU may result in Leverage brainrot and compulsions to write angsty fic. Experts* recommend against consumption of large doses of this AU in a short period of time, particularly for new users who do not know how they will be affected. Certain lines in this AU have been identified by the state of the comments section to be hazardous to human health. Writing while under the influence of Hell AU may pose a risk of spreading this contagion to others.
Please consume responsibly.
We Have Never Had a Hitter (That Wasn't Actually Moreau's)
*@darkfinch
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puppetmaster13u · 20 days
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Prompt 301
Ellie, during one of her stints of what do I do with my life right now, decides to, with the help of her Original Dad-Person (Look he’s aging and she’s not and it gets less questions the older he gets if he says daughter instead of sister with how the Fentons are getting older too) creates a Boo-Tube channel. No, not a Youtube channel, those are stuck to a single dimension.
Bootube on the other hand? Due to being through the Realms (and wow is Tucker getting so much income from creating it) is interdimensional. Which is so cool honestly. And she doesn’t know what to do at first, and honestly there’s already so many travel blogs that she kind of just… decided to do something that she wished someone had done for her and her brothers and Danny when she was new to the world. 
So she creates the channel CAAW: Clone Awareness, Accommodations, and Welfare. They had to learn things through trial and error, but maybe she can help someone out there learn how to find their own selves, or even help someone not melt. 
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boyywithluv · 7 days
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hagravenholm · 9 months
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#I miss having 3 meals everyday#I miss my mom#I miss going to LGSs and playing games or buying comics#I miss fnm… I miss my friends and drinking w them and having fun staying up all nights#I miss when it felt like I wasn’t the outsider#it’s just pretty awful. having to sit and think about it all alone from this room#I miss feeling valued… I miss being a part of a group#my whole life is just a series of temporary people and places that I can never truly ever just integrate into. be a part of.#all of it meant a lot to me and to me only…#I hope one day I can get some of the life I want back… but I doubt it.#no one has ever just stuck with me so far no one has ever actually taken me in and along for the whole ride.#it always conditions that I can’t meet.#be this be social never experience outward negative emotions. never let the facade slip.#and then I do of course bc I can’t keep up the image of a neurotypical normal happy person forever.#but my moms dead. so I’m never getting anything true or pure ever again I think. not when it comes to love.#it’s all fickle it’s all conditional. which isn’t to excuse myself from my perceived sins or whatever#not that god is real but#it’s just so incredibly difficult trying to survive now. Is it any wonder#whatever. hopefully this burden will ease and I’ll get hit by a car in Atlanta#then I won’t have to think about a loveless future I can’t afford and am so far from.#it’s called settling ig. I wish I knew how to get along fine and not constantly be pining and plagued by memories…#anyway much ado#personal#vent
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guardianspirits13 · 5 months
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Ok. I’m still trying to gather my thoughts and settle my hyperfixation after episode 3 of the Percy Jackson show, but one of my conclusions is that this is one of very few adaptations that actually understands the term ‘adaptation’ and furthermore what makes one successful.
On a fundamental level, understanding and respecting the source material is a must. You need to not just know the bullet points of the story, but you need to know the ‘why’s’- why does this story need to be heard, why do people like it, why does it stand out from the others in it’s genre, etc.
Second, you need to deconstruct the source material and piece it back together in a way that makes sense for the new format. Copy-pasting almost never works, since there will inevitably be discrepancies between the readers’ imagination and the adaptation that can distract from immersion.
Third, you need to provide something new. Why does this story deserve to be told in a different format? What can this add to the original themes of a story? What can we change to make the message come across more on screen? Will this dialogue really be as funny when it’s said out loud?
We’ve seen a lot of terrible “adaptations” of animation and books and musicals into movies/tv shows, and I think even among the better ones there is a dissonance between the desire to stay faithful to the source and the desire to make a good adaptation, with whatever changes that may necessitate.
I think while we’ve watched the casting of this series, the hints here and there, and final the premiere with bated breath, they’ve been playing the long game. They cast Walker as Percy before he was in the Adam Project. Many people expressed…unsavory…feelings when Leah was cast as Annabeth, but those of us that trusted the team behind this project- including the author himself- did our best to welcome her and were repaid tenfold with her performance in this episode particularly.
Most of the scenes in this episode were not at all how I imagined them in the book, but I adored it. They took what they were given and expanded on it. They created a mini-arc for the trio learning to trust each other. They gave Medusa a labyrinthine lair. Annabeth is a 12 year old walking into a convenience store for the first time in 6+ years with $200 in her pocket, of course she’s gonna buy as much as she can carry.
The love and care and artistry that went into this single episode brings me so much joy and gives me so much hope. Like I was already excited for a faithful adaptation, but seeing these characters come to life on screen, once you see their chemistry with each other and how they speak and push and pull at each other’s emotions, it has never been more clear to me the amount of care and foresight that went into this show.
Rick said that these kids are the characters he created and for like 2 years I’ve trusted that that was true, but today it was proven beyond the shadow of a doubt.
I am just…in awe.
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queers-gambit · 5 months
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Opening Night and Open Hearts
prompt: opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 9.8k+
note: i think i give enough background for you guys to feel as if you don't need to read any other relating works, but i linked the fics that could be read as a small series (maybe?) also let author be lonely in peace
warnings: reader nicknamed Peach, established relationship, cursing, spoilers, fluff, angst, relationship angst, hurt and comfort, Carmy still (desperately) needs a nap, depiction of physical illness, boys are dumb and emotions are hard, reader-insert, depiction of toxic family, OC Carmy that grovels a lot, not edited!
⚠️ season two, episode ten spoilers
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not necessary to read, but other relating works with Peach:
Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant
God's Plan part two: Two to Tango
Neon Sticky Notes
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"Hi, yes, I can hear you - sorry about that, I was just making note of your reservation," you spoke smoothly into the phone, trying not to ogle your boyfriend wrapped in only a clean blue towel. "So, that's a party of four for Monsieur Claude Badeaux - all right, that's so lovely. I'm obligated to remind everyone that tonight's opening is a fine dining experience and the proper, corresponding dress code is being asked for. Are there any allergies I should make note of for your party?"
"Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy," you were told.
"All right, that's noted and highlighted: Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy. If there's anything else I could help you with?"
"Non," he chuckled. "I was surprised to see your invitation to this evening, though, mon cher. It's been so long, yes?"
"Well, it was my pleasure to extend the offer, we're ecstatic by your reservation," you chuckled. "We'll see you tonight, Monsieur, and should you need anything before then, you may call this number again."
You said your parting words in French, smiling at Carmy when you hung up and dropped your work phone. "Did I hear that correct?" Your lover asked with a broad grin, "Was that...?"
"Senior marketing advisor at The Washington Post?" You filled in for him. "Uh, yeah, I think it was, but you know me - I could be wrong."
"You invited someone from The Washington Post to the opening tonight?"
"Is that okay?" You asked, standing from the bed after making note in your datebook. "You look kinda - I don't know, shocked?"
"I-I am," he blinked at you, watching you gather his pristine clothing to hang on the closet door. "But in a good way - I can't believe you did this," he chuckled, wiping his mouth. "I mean - holy shit, Peaches."
You offered a toothy grin, "Figured I could pull a few of my own strings to help get the word out about your love-child."
This made Carmy snicker, "Hey, now. Tonight's important, don't make fun."
"I know," you nodded, leading him back into the bathroom to view your hair products. "Which is why I invited some important people and some not-so important people. I know this is serious, Carmy," you smiled at him, hoping to convey your support, "and I wanted to help in whatever way I could."
"You being there tonight is more than I could ask for," he chuckled, helping you onto the small bathroom counter. You squirted a bit of hair product in your hand, watching him flinch back a little, "Uh, I just don't want my hair greasy, Peach, you know? Not a good look and I'll sweat it out in the kitchen."
"I feel like I should be offended by you having no trust in me," you teased, insisting, "I know whatcha need, baby, lemme help."
Carmy smiled softly and held still, letting you run your hands through his curls to push everything back and away from his forehead in a stylish but manageable "do". There was a silent, serene moment as you and Carmy just existed together in a mundane space, his big, sad eyes watching your face as you worked. He wondered, "Think tonight's gonna be okay?"
"I think tonight's gonna be more than okay," you assured softly. "I think tonight's gonna go better than you're anticipating."
He sighed and planted his hands on either side of you, suddenly dropping his gaze. "I, uh... Sugar invited Mom t'tonight..."
"Yeah, I know."
"You know?"
"Sugar and I are still friends outside of us dating, Carmy," you smiled patiently, slowing your hands so you more toyed with his curls; pushing some strands behind his ears. "She needs someone as much as you do and I don't mind."
"But isn't that what Pete's for?"
"Yes, but you know, Pete's Pete."
Carmy snorted, "Yeah, yeah, good point."
"I don't know if she'll show up tonight, Bear, but whether she does or doesn't, it won't matter - you're not doing this for her. This is for you, Carmy, tonight's about The Bear opening - it's about you and this incredible, amazing thing you've done. Okay?" You caressed both his cheeks in your hands so he could only look at you directly. "If she shows, that's great," you whispered with a soft smile as your thumbs swept the apples of his cheeks, "and if she doesn't, it won't make tonight any less special. That, I can promise."
Carmy's forehead met yours, both pausing to breathe together; peace always a fleeting feeling as of late and being something you both capitalized on. You brought him in closer for an embrace, his face burying in your neck as your arms snaked around his to keep him as close as possible. His arms were tight around your waist, legs spread to accommodate him; both needing the feel of being close before that night's inevitable stressful event.
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"Wow, well, don't you look all pretty! Wow, Peach," Pete greeted you when you scurried to the table with your friend in tow. "Oh, hi there!"
"Pete, this is my best friend, Danielle, and Dani, this is Pete, Sugar's husband."
"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," your friend greeted, the two instantly chattering as they both just blew past their introductions to instantly compliment one another's clothes. You smirked, knowing they'd get along famously, and looked around the brand new, packed restaurant.
"Hey, there she is, my pretty girl," Richie greeted smoothly, approaching your standing form to slide his hand around your shoulders.
"Hi, Cousin," you beamed, offering him a hug in greeting. "The place looks fantastic - it's so - I mean - just wow, Richie," you complimented. "You guys did such an amazing job. I need to tell Fak, too, this is - you guys should be so proud, it looks incredible. Hardly can believe what it was before this."
"It really is something, huh?" He grinned. "Hey, Pete," he nodded.
"Hey, Richie."
"And you must be the famous, the fabulous Miss Danielle?"
"That's me," your friend grinned. "You're Richie, right? Carmy's cousin who's not really a cousin but is as good as blood?"
"Yes, ma'am, the very same," he nodded with pride. "We've some drinks coming your way in just a moment, but I need to borrow Peach for just one second."
"Why do they call her Peach?" Dani asked, but Richie was leading you away as Pete was heard answering,
"Oh, because she mastered this peach cobbler with Carmy's mom, Donna, and she started the nickname..."
"What's wrong?" You asked softly with a smile as to not give the illusion to others that you were worried. "What can I do to help?"
"No, no, nothing too bad, you were just requested by the Frenchie-French guy."
"Oh, right, that's right, yeah, I can help with that," you sighed gently, smiling as you approached the table. Greeting the two men and women was easy, Richie impressed by your connections in the professional world. Tonight, The Washington Post didn't just dine with them - no, it was also the director of social media for three luxury, designer brands: Jean-Paul.
Yes, the man was so elusive that he just went by Jean-Paul. Fuck a last name!
Either way, it impressed Richie to hear the introductions. The two women were executives in their own companies, names Richie didn't catch because he was busy taking note of the way Mr. Frenchie-French was basically eye fucking you in front of them all.
"Well," Richie smiled stiffly, "tonight's incredibly special for us. In fact, uh, Y/N's boyfriend is the owner and head chef."
"Really?" Frenchie-French perked his brows, shifting his gaze over to you. "You always had a soft spots for chefs, non? For those who were versed in the culinary arts?"
"Well, mostly I appreciated a man in the kitchen simply because I burn water and would probably unintentionally starve myself," you teased easily, deflecting the man's subtle dig. "I'm actually here with family tonight, so, please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy tonight - I know I'm biased when I say the food is exceptional, but I look forward to your own opinions."
"We will talk later, mon cher, I am sure there will be plenty to discuss," the Frenchman promised, kissing the back of your hand as you let Richie lead you away by your free hand.
You released a long sigh, muttering, "Bring them a bottle of real champagne, please, Richie, I had a few bottles imported just for them. Listen closely," you lowered your voice as you both paused on the side of the dining room, "bring them a bowl of thin sliced strawberries sprinkled in sugar and pop the cork at their table - it's impressive for whatever reason."
Richie pecked your temple and gave you a tight squeeze, "I got it all covered, girly. You all right? Look like you're gonna be sick?"
"Just men being men grosses me out, I guess," you sighed with a small shrug. "He's always had a thing for me, I figured I'd use that to get him here tonight - Carmy's work speaks for itself, but maybe he'd be inclined to publish an article or two for us if I play nice."
Richie paused you a few feet from your table, complimenting, "I hope Carmy knows he doesn't deserve you, Peach."
"You said years ago neither of us did," you smirked gently. "Said I wasn't relationship material, right? Remember?"
"I was wrong," he nodded. "I even said y'all would never be serious, but..." He scoffed to himself, "I've never seen that boy so crazy about anyone in his life. You've really changed him, Peach. I don't really know how to thank you."
"You can start by buttering up those flirty Frenchmen," you teased, giving his cheek a peck.
"On it," he winked, parting from your side.
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Inside the kitchen some twenty minutes later, Richie approached Carmy, directing his attention, "Cousin?"
"Yo."
"Peach is on 17 with Pete."
"Okay."
"Go say hi."
"Yeah, eventually," Carmy nodded absently, never halting his work.
"Eventually?" Richie repeated with distain, something in his stomach twisting.
"Where the fuck is Josh!?" Carmy called into the kitchen, another chef echoing his concerns.
"Yo!" Richie barked as calmly as he could, "Just go say hi to your girl, Cousin."
"Yo, I'll go when I have a minute," Carmy deflected strongly. "I'm in the fuckin' shit, leave me the fuck alone."
"What? I'm saying - "
"I'll get there when I can get there!"
"I'm saying!"
"What?" Carmy barked.
"She's got important fucking people in that dining room, man," Richie scoffed, hands held up in defense. "Just for your ungrateful ass! Maybe the least you can do is go say fuckin' hi - even if you're fuckin' busy. She knows that, it'd be a nice gesture - or whatever fuckin' shit - I don't know! She's your girl!"
"Yeah! Exactly!" Carmy barked. "She's my fuckin' girl, she knows the fuckin' drill, I'll go say fuckin' hi when I get the fuckin' chance, Richie! Fuck's sake! Always tryna meddle and shit!"
"Jesus, fuck," Richie sighed, turning out of the kitchen with his hands waving Carmy off in defeat.
You were none the wiser, entertained by Pete and Dani's gabbing as Sugar was in-and-out, dealing with all the little things going wrong. These little things came to her in the form of notes left at the table subtly for her to go solve, you wanting to help but being shot down every time. Eventually, Carmy was approaching your table with a tray of food, shocking you slightly.
"Hey, Peach," He greeted softly, lowering the tray to balance on the table and lean over to kiss your cheek. "You look gorgeous, baby, wow," he complimented in a whisper, offering another quick kiss.
"Thank you, Chef," you smiled brightly, touching his forearm in a sign of affection. "What's all this you've got for us?"
He hummed and explained what he set on the table in front of you guys; eyes alight and cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. He poured whatever sauce came with the main dish, smiling at Dani, nodding to Pete, then looking to you.
"I'll check on you later, all right, baby?" He mumbled, watching you nod. "I gotta get back," he whispered, "but thank you for being here, my pretty girl."
"No where else I'd rather be, Cream," you rushed, letting his lips find yours briefly.
"Stick around after, would you? When we close, just... Don't leave yet."
"Yes, Chef," you whispered against his lips with a grin. He gave one single more kiss before pulling away to stand upright.
"Enjoy," he bid the table before walking away.
"So, like," Dani trailed after making sure Carmy was out of earshot, "when's the wedding? 'Cause that might've been the cutest thing I've seen. I mean, opening night, he's cooking, but paused to come serve us? Serve you? And he's so soft with you, kissin' you, bein' all cute," she pouted dramatically. "I want a reason to wear a maid of honor dress, please."
"Hey, hey, chill on us. There's no wedding," you sighed with a small laugh, trying to play off how the subject made your stomach twist. "We haven't really talked about it, you know? No biggie."
"What?" She sputtered. "Wait, hang on. Y'all have been together - like - a stupid, ridiculous amount of time. The fuck you mean you haven't talked about it? What are y'all doing, just ignoring the elephant in the room?"
You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, we know if we ever got married, it'd be to each other, but that's really it. We know we want to be together, we know we want to marry each other, but there's been no serious conversation about it."
"Uh, does that sound right to you?" Dani asked Pete.
He shook his head as you all took dainty bites of food to savor the flavors (and save Sugar some). "When I knew with Natalie, I didn't hesitate."
"Well, Carmy isn't like you, Pete," you defended. "He's got a lot on his plate, too, you know?"
"You've said that since Mikey," Dani frowned, her voice quiet.
"With good reason, don't you think? Carmy's just - he's just going through a lot right now and it's a challenge, you know?"
"No, it's more like Carmy's got the emotional intelligence of a fucking teaspoon!"
"Hey," you snapped, "that's not his fault, he doesn't know much better, so watch your mouth."
"He does with you, like... He knows better when he's with you, when it comes to you, Peach," Pete offered softly. "Look, maybe Danielle has a point - it is a little weird. I mean, you guys have been together, what? Six, almost seven years? Creeping up on a decade of just dating - that's a long time. And didn't you guys do that weird little half-dating thing for two years before making it official? Don't you think that's enough time to know if you want to marry someone, and then, you know? Actually marry them? Or at least ask them?"
"Sure, maybe to other people, but Carmy and I have never been conventional, so, I don't see why we need to start now."
Danielle scoffed, "Look, God love Carmy and everything, but you're just wasting time now. He needs to either commit or let you find someone who can actually love you like you deserve."
"Oh, and Carmy doesn't?"
"Wasn't all that long ago that you two took a break 'cause he called you clingy - and some other unsavory terms," Danielle shrugged. "Doesn't really sound like someone who loves you unconditionally - the way you should be loved."
You sighed and sat back in your chair, "I appreciate the insight, but Carm and I are fine. Okay? We've got years under our belts, we don't want to fuck up what obviously works for us so chill out on the questions, okay? I don't have answers to them."
Danielle and Pete shared a look before the man got up to excuse himself to the restroom. You and Dani finished your meals before sipping your wine, waiting for Pete, but Dani sighed, "This lady's been staring in here for, like, ten minutes already. It's freezing, doesn't she want to come in?"
"Hmm? What're you - ?"
"This lady on the street," your friend pointed over her shoulder towards the window her back was now turned to.
When you peaked out, you gasped lightly when you saw Donna Berzatto smoking a cigarette. "Oh, shit!" You stood from your seat, rushing, "Okay, so, uh, yeah - just - can you just sit here for a second? I have to go handle that."
"Who is it?" Dani wondered earnestly.
"I got it, Peach," Pete told you, passing by the table swiftly with a hand patting your shoulder to keep you at your table.
"What the hell's happening?" Dani asked. "Who is that?"
"Nothing, no one, it's okay, I think that's someone we know, just, uh, hang on a second? We'll be right back."
"Sure," she nodded in confusion, watching you get from your seat and follow Pete out the door onto the blistering cold sidewalk.
"Hey, Mama Donna," you greeted happily, arms crossing over your chest to protect from the wind. "Have you been inside yet? We saved you a seat and all, but isn't this - just wow?" You grinned, trying to encourage her to say anything about her children's hard work.
"Oh, no, no, not you, too, Peach, why are you here?" She groaned lightly, looking upset and close to tears.
"I'm here 'cause of Carmy? I-It's opening night, yeah?" You offered in confusion. "Why? What's wrong, Mama D?" You worried, glancing at an emotional Pete.
"No, it's just, I can't come in, I can't, just no," she backed away, only now making you notice the way Pete cried. "I'm so sorry, Peach, honey, but I was never here. Okay? I-I'll call them later, I swear, I promise, I'll call them - but I-I-I wasn't here. Okay? You can't tell them I was here. I'm so sorry."
"Donna, don't do this," you begged, head shaking. "Don't, please. Just come in with Pete and I - just sit there for a bit. Just come in and see what your kids have done - Donna, it's so beautiful. You'd be so proud, but you should really see it for yourself - "
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, not tonight, no, I'm sorry, I can't," she deflected in a rambling mumble, turning and hustling down the sidewalk with her head shaking like a Etch-A-Sketch.
You rounded on Pete, "What the hell was that? Pete, what just happened?"
"Um, I-I don't - I didn't mean to."
"Pete? What didn't you mean?"
"She didn't tell her mom about the baby," he rushed, tears falling. "Nat didn't tell Donna, Peach, and I think I just did - I think I just fucked up and told her."
"Oh, no... No, Pete, you didn't."
"I didn't mean to! I swear it was an accident!"
"No, I know you didn't mean to, honey," you rushed, opening your arms to bring him in for a tight hug. "Oh, you poor boy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pete."
He sighed, "I'm sorry, too, Peach."
"For what?"
"That... We fell in love with Berzattos and this is our new normal now, right?" He sniffled.
You half-smiled, "Yeah, something like that. But it's okay. See, where Donna's afraid to give her love, neither of us are. Sugar and Carm deserve that from us, right? To be authentic and just love them?"
He nodded, "Yeah, you're right."
"And that's all we gotta do... Is love them, Pete."
"God knows where else they'd get it," he huffed, wiping his face. "Hey, um, I'll be in, in a second - I just need a minute alone, I think, in the cold."
"Take all the time you need," you agreed.
"We're not - we're not telling them about this, right?"
You sighed, "No, I don't think so - at least right now. It might hurt them more, you know? To know Donna was here, but never came in. That she ran away... Again. It'll hurt, they deserve to be happy about tonight."
Pete nodded rapidly, looking like he was gonna burst into tears. Instead of going back inside, you just moved to Pete's side and stood there; producing a cigarette, lighting it, offering Pete a drag that he turned down, and the both of you just standing silently; one smoking, one crying, both processing.
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"Wow, look at these gorgeous ladies! By far the baddest in the whole place! Yeah, man!" Fak teased as he approached you and Danielle after closing the The Bear officially. "What a privilege to have you both dine with us this evening! Ugh, truly an honor to see you both here," he praised comically, evening giving a small bow that his brother mimicked.
Your eyes rolled, "You're laying it on really thick when I already tipped you." He snickered with Theo. "Hey, seriously, though, tonight was incredible. I mean, it was all so beautiful, you should all be so proud."
"Oh, we are," Neil giggled, his brother hanging off his shoulders.
"Good," you teased. "Uh, is now an okay time to go back and see him? Kinda wanna offer my compliments to the chef directly, you know?"
"No," Fak answered instantly, "uh, well, probably not the best time."
"Yeah, probably not," Theodore echoed.
"I can sense you two ramping up to something," you sighed, "so, I'm gonna ask you skip all that and tell me what's wrong. Why can't I go see my boyfriend? He just had an incredibly successful opening night, I kinda wanna kiss him if you don't mind."
"Um, well, h-he didn't want you to worry, so, he said not t'tell you, but, uh... Yeah, no, Carmy's, like, locked in the walk-in freezer. Han Solo style."
"What?"
"Locked in the walk-in," Fak nodded rapidly, "yeah, no, the handle - like, the whole handle came off. He's locked in, Peach..."
"Oh, my fucking God," you breathed. "Are you saying he - he missed opening night? Neil!"
"Yeah, kinda... Well, sorta - I mean, technically, but - "
"Oh, Jesus," you breezed past them all.
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"Mmm-mmm, the fridge guy's name is Terry," Tina corrected Carmy, flinching a little when he slapped the other side of the metal door he was locked behind.
"See, th-tha-that's what I'm talking about!" Carmy raged. "I'm so fucking distracted, and for what? For fucking what? 'Cause of a girl?" He chuckled ruefully to himself.
"Nuh-uh, don't do that, Carmy," Tina scolded. "That's not no girl, that's your girl, that's Peach - you don't lash out at her, baby."
"Yo, maybe - maybe I'm just not built for this. Right? Maybe that's okay! Maybe that just is. She'd be better off, Tina... I'm just - I'm not built for this."
But what Carmy didn't hear was Sydney asking Tina to cover her at the front because she needed to step out the back, get some air; Tina accepting and telling Carm to hang on a moment. Something he missed. While Tina took Syd's spot, Syd rushed outside, and you slipped in the kitchen door; Carmy being surrounded by shitty ripped tape and an entire side full of the flowers he had brought in for tonight - for you. It was a haunting reminder; something suffocating.
When you got to the walk-in, you were prepared to call out for Carmy, but he started speaking from within, halting any word on your tongue.
"I wasn't here b-because I was looking a-a-at fucking engagement rings when the fridge guy fuckin' called," Carmy ranted, your heart stalling in your chest. "Right? Like, what the fuck was I thinking? Like I was gonna get married? Commit to this relationship? Be h-her fucking husband or some shit? Have a fucking wife? I'm a fucking - I'm a fuckin' psycho!" He laughed a little, the tears springing to your eyes as his words disarmed your heart and emotional dam. "That's why! That's why I'm good at what I do! That's how I operate! I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could - I could focus and I could concentrate and I had a routine and I - and I had fuckin' cell reception, and Peach and I just had our own routine! We didn't need this extra bullshit, and now..."
You just listened, leaning on the freezer's door, tears silently leaking down your cheeks as you had the horrendous realization that you were what now slowed Carmy down. You were what currently stood in his way, when this whole time, you thought you were helping; making things easier; supporting him. No... No, his words rattled your heart to accept that you were now the bane; the object of his ire. You and your relationship was what was wrong and was causing Carmy hurt and professional complications.
Something you never wanted to contribute towards. You both always said if this relationship got to be too hard, you'd walk away. Better to feel anger than resentment; and now, you knew you had to walk away else risk that resentment fester.
Carmy started up again, "I don't need to provide amusement or enjoyment, I don't need to be someone's 'to have and to hold'. I don't need to receive any amusement or enjoyment, nor for someone to have and hold me... And I'm completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this fucking feels." You were ready to open your mouth, but he finished by nailing the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, "It's just a complete waste of fuckin' time - entertaining what I know I shouldn't. Being in this relationship, trying to give what I don't have, wasting everyone's time."
You took your chance, speaking through your tears, "I'm really sorry you feel that way, Carmen."
"Peach?" Carmy rasped from behind the door, sounding more alert than he had before. "Baby? Hey, hey, Peaches? That you? Peach - hey. Hey," he sounded desperate as you backed away from the door, a fist pounding into the metal, "hey, no, Y/N? Y/N!" The seriousness settled over you both, Carmen understanding you heard a lot more than ever intended and once those words are out there, there's no getting them back. "Y/N, baby? Hey, no, no, Y/N - listen to me - hey, no, no! I-I didn't know you were there, baby, okay? No, Y/N, please - tell me you're there now, let me explain." He paused. "Let me explain! Please! C'mon, baby, please, let me fucking explain - tell me you're still there! Y/N? Y/N!"
You sniffled and walked away, feeling smaller than you ever had in your life. You barely noticed when the kitchen door opened, not until a figured dressed in black stopped you. "Peach? Hey, hey," Richie halted you - taking note of the tears. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay - who fuckin' did it?"
You just stared at Richie for a long moment, opening your mouth twice before sighing and smiling sadly. "I never wanted to be what got in his way," you whispered sadly. "I'm sorry, Richie."
"Peaches, hey, what's - "
But you reached up to kiss his cheek, "Tonight was so beautiful, Cousin, and I'm so fucking proud of you all. Thank you for everything - not just tonight, Richie, but everything you do." You smiled again, whispering, "Take care of him. Okay? He'll need you."
"What're you talking about? What's going on? Where are you going? Hey, where are you going, Peach, please?"
"Have a good night, Richie, I love you," you whispered, leaving out the kitchen door as quickly as you could. "Hey," you sniffled, approaching Dani with the Fak Brothers, "can we go now, please?"
"Are you okay?" Dani worried in shock.
"I'd really like to go, Dani, please," you rushed, throwing your coat on and smiling at the Brothers as if your heart wasn't in pieces. "Thanks again for tonight, you guys, it was magical."
"Peach? Wait, hey, are you okay, baby? What just happened?" Neil worried, watching you snatch Dani's hand, but pause when screaming was heard from the kitchen. Everyone stared at the door, Neil muttering, "The fuck are they...?"
"Now, Dani, please," you whimpered to your friend, who wasted no time in escorting you out of The Bear. The moment you were outside, you burst into sobs, Dani grunting a little as she lead you down a side alley to lean you on a brick wall and beg you to breathe normally.
"What the hell just happened? Hey, honey, you need to breathe," she smoothed hair off your face - but it was like you were drowning in the air with the way you gasped and gaped and panted and whimpered and choked yourself.
"I-I-I-I think - I think w-we're done, I think we're done, I think - oh, fuck - I think we just broke up," you sobbed, hands on your knees. "Oh, my God, Dani," you whimpered, "I-I think - I think we're done, Danielle, oh, my fucking God. I-I heard things tonight that I just - I can't not know, anymore! He said - fuck! He was just so candid, he didn't know I was there so h-he was sayin' things I have t-to now confront - and I really didn't fucking want to! He just - he doesn't want to really marry me, D, and-and-and he was apparently looking a-a-a-at rings - fucking engagement rings! But then he said that w-was the issue - he missed the fridge guy's call 'cause he was looking at fucking rings for me and this is why he missed opening night - 'cause the fucking fridge broke! Oh, my God, Danielle, i-i-it's my fault, it's my fucking fault, he missed the most important night of his life and it's my fault - "
You were cut off by your stomach lurching, emptying your insides onto the pavement. The delicious appetizer, the tantalizing main course, Marcus' fresh baked bread that was delightfully soft on the inside yet baked crisp on the outside, and every bit of the sweetened dessert - all wasted on Chicago bricks.
"Okay, okay, ah, shit, just get it out, babe, there you go," Danielle held your hair, catching you in a suffocating hug once you were done puking. "I've got you, babe, I've got you. You're okay, no, hey, this isn't your fault. I've got you, come on. I think we need pints of ice cream and the saltiest pretzels we can find," she pushed some hair from your sticky forehead, pouting dramatically, "maybe some Pepto? Few Saltines and ginger ale? C'mon, we're going back to mine, there's a good girl," she coaxed you from the ground and away from the wall, "c'mon, you're stronger than this. There's my girl, here we go, just one foot in front of the other - together, with me, just like that."
You sobbed, not knowing that Sydney and her father stood listening just a few feet away behind a set of dumpsters.
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The moment the freezer's door was open and Carmy was free, he was sprinting around the kitchen to grab his coat, leave Neil in charge of closing, and racing out the door as the Fak Brothers yelled at him for hurting your feelings.
"Hey, hey, hey, Chef! Carmy, wait!" Sydney chased him outside.
"No time!"
"Wait! She went with her friend!"
Carmy came to a tripping halt, catching himself before he hit the pavement before whirling around to approach her, "What?"
"Her friend? She was with some girl tonight?"
"Yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, um, that's - yeah, that's Danielle," Carmy nodded. "Her best friend, yeah, they were here tonight, sitting with Pete and Sugar."
"Listen, Carmy, I heard them when they left the restaurant... Peach was really upset, like, more upset than I've ever heard, saying you two broke up? Or something? She cried so hard, Carm, she actually threw up, it sounded like she was in genuine distress. I-I didn't know if I should've intervened, but her friend was with her and helping."
"Shit - fuck - Goddamnit," he seethed. "All right, thank you - "
"I doubt they went to your place, I think I heard her friend saying they were going to her apartment."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, great, I know where Dani lives, thanks Syd!" Carmy bid, sprinting in the other direction - never bothering with the public bus system, just running into the night. Sydney was left to sigh on the sidewalk, Neil and Theo joining her before Richie followed - all watching Carmy disappear down the sidewalk.
"He's a fucking idiot," Richie shook his head.
"What the hell even happened?" Syd asked.
"Carmy mouthed off in the walk-in, Peach heard it all," Richie supplied. "You know the dumbass was gonna propose tonight?"
"What?" Syd blinked in shock.
"Yeah," Neil tacked on, "we had a whole plan and everything. Candles, soft music, flowers - there's a bunch of flower bouquets in the walk-in."
"I'm sure that was hard for Carm to look at," Syd sympathized.
"Doesn't excuse whatever he said," Richie snapped. "She looked devastated."
"She cried so hard, she threw up in the alley," Syd frowned.
"How do you know?" Neil asked.
"I heard her," the other chef frowned. "My dad and I - we actually both heard her."
"Jesus fuck," Richie seethed.
"I mean... Should we still set up?" Theo wondered to his brother. "What if they kiss and make up, like always? Carmy might still wanna go through with the proposal, right? You know?"
"Maybe," Neil trailed, looking at Richie.
"I don't fucking know," he sighed, hands on his hips.
"She thinks they broke up, I imagine whatever she heard was pretty nasty," Sydney frowned. "Think they'll really make up tonight?"
"Let's hope," Richie sighed. "That fuckin' idiot isn't gonna find anyone better than Peach. Fuck," he looked around the city street. "All right, fuck it, fine, let's fucking set up. Not like the jackass deserves it, but let's do it for Peach."
Neil and his brother grinned at each other, turning to hustle back into The Bear - leaving Sydney and Richie on the street. No words were exchanged, just silent shakes of their heads before they followed the Faks with the intention to help set up for a proposal nobody even knew if would still happen.
The cold night burned Carmy's lungs, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of suffocation he felt earlier when listening to one of your voicemails while trapped.
Your words were sweet as pie, as they usually were; a voicemail left when you were still at work, but feeling so excited to see him that night that you just had to call him. You reminded him of the adoration and love you held for him, relaying how proud you felt - and that you knew Mikey would be, too. You were always doing that, reassuring Carmy; and maybe that's why he felt so freaked out, he wasn't used to it. Even after almost 7 years together, he just wasn't used to what he didn't know he deserved.
Because Carmy didn't think he deserved anything remotely close to love, understanding, compassion, patience, and / or reassurance.
He had sobbed out loud as he locked his phone, not having the heart to delete your message. He often never did - he liked listening to your voice on long, hard nights; it brought him peace when the world felt too loud. He also kept whatever little notes you left for him, even going as far as to get a few of your hand-drawn hearts tattooed on his forearm. One for each anniversary you've shared together. He realized he never wanted to be without you and all his doubts and fear was him projecting his own incompetence towards this relationship; so, he locked his phone, he didn't delete your message.
The moment the fridge door had been opened, Carmy was out of there, shot off like a Roman Candle - your words of love and understanding still ringing in his ears as he was freed. He needed to apologize, and he needed to apologize right fucking now.
The whole run to Danielle's apartment, Carmy wasn't sure what to say to you; mulling over different ideas in his head. He tried to plan his speech, but the only thing he could think of was how much he loved you and that the ring in his pocket weighed a hundred pounds.
He pounded at Danielle's door. Carmy paced slightly as he waited, knocking frantically, and surely waking the neighbors - but that didn't matter. All that mattered was talking to you, something he was desperate to accomplish. When the door opened, your friend offered a stale look and shook her head, "Nope."
"Dani, please," he halted the closing door, "it's all a misunderstanding, I swear to God, please, just - let me try to fix this. Please, okay? I-I need her - I fucking need her and I have to fix this 'cause she's all that matters, okay? So, let me talk to her - please. Please, Danielle!"
"Yeah? The only thing?"
"More than anyone, more than anything - more than The fucking Bear, I swear to fucking God, Danielle! Just - Just one chance, please. I-I don't know how it all got so fucked, but please, I have to try - "
"Whatever you said in that freezer, Carmen, fucking gutted her, you hear me?" Dani stood in her doorway protectively. "Should've had your ass frozen for the hurt you caused her. How the fuck do you intend on making this right? Huh? It's been almost a fucking decade, dude, if you're seriously still afraid of commitment, just fuck off and leave her alone. Let her walk away 'cause I promise, there's a line of dudes who would love to put a ring on her loyal-ass finger - "
"Please, let me fix this," Carmy begged, sounding close to tears. "I need her, Danielle, please."
"It's okay, D," a voice whispered from behind Danielle, and when she turned, you were revealed - jacket and purse in hand, looking completely exhausted, drained, and disheveled. "I'm just tired, Dani, but we have to talk about this... So, I'll go home with him and call you tomorrow, okay?"
"You sure?"
"It's a decent walk, gives us too much time to talk," you shrugged, refusing to meet Carmy's bloodshot eyes. "Thanks for tonight, sorry I was such a mess," you whispered, hugging your best friend since pre-school.
"Girl, don't you ever apologize to me. But hey, look, I don't know, you were just drowning in your tears, like, five minutes ago. Sure you really wanna go? You can stay here as long as you'd like, girl, fuck him."
"Better to work it out now than later, I guess," you whispered, letting her kiss your cheek and see you guys out.
"She calls me cryin', Carmen, I'll kick your ass," She threatened as you moved down the apartment's hall. You might've snickered just a little, but the amusement was wiped clean when you rounded the corner and came up to the elevators.
Now that it was just you two, it was dreadfully awkward.
"Baby - "
"Just - don't talk for right now, Carmen," you sighed, shaking your head. "I'm still digesting all you said."
He frowned when you walked onto the elevator without a single emotion on your face, following you, and when on the ground floor, moved out to head home. It was quiet, it was awkward; only the sounds of traffic filling the space between you as you walked.
"Listen," he started with a long sigh, "you came in at the worst time, Peach, heard some shit you shouldn't have that I-I didn't even mean. I was just," he paused, sighing, "really angry and frustrated, fucking running my mouth 'cause I didn't know what else to do."
"Sounded like I came in at the best time since you're not very forthcoming with emotions. So, hearing your confession put a lot in perspective for me, Carm."
"I was just angry, Peach," he frowned, hands deep in his pockets. "Felt like I was self sabotaging myself, I wasn't sure what else to feel. So, I just lashed out. I didn't mean it, but I just felt like being angry... So fucking angry, baby, I just - I didn't know what else to feel."
"I don't know if I can be with someone like that," you whispered. "Someone who throws our relationship under the bus when he's angry, someone who's first line of defense is apparently to blame the relationship he's been in for over half a decade with the same girl. Someone you've known your whole life..."
"Peach - "
"If it's that easy for you to just disregard us, I don't think we should continue this."
Carmy took a breath and reached out to pull you to a stop. He dug in his pocket for a moment, then showed you the black velvet jewelry box. "I was gonna propose tonight, when everyone was gone," he explained when you took the box to open gingerly. "I think because that was on my mind already, something I was more than nervous to actually do, you're right, it did become my first line of defense to blame us - not just you, baby, but us. You and me... Mostly me, though," he chuckled sadly. "You're this perfect, sweet angel who just loves me out loud when I don't deserve it, and I'm... I'm just me," he sighed, eyes reddening. "And I know I'm never gonna be enough for you, I think I started to get in my head about if you said no. How I missed the call from Terry about the fridge 'cause I was picking out an engagement ring that you didn't even want, that you rejected - rejected me; and in turn, I missed opening night, and it all just - it got to a boiling point. Look, Peach, it's never been a secret that I don't think I deserve you... But I wanted to be the man that could at least give you an honest try of my best. You've stuck by me the past seven years when you should've ran for the hills, and I knew I wanted us for life years ago - but everything was still so up in the air. So confusing. So fucked up. I figured, after opening tonight, if things went t'plan, I could propose - prove to you that we're on our feet and there weren't any rugs to be pulled."
"What if things didn't go to plan?" You whispered.
"We're kinda living it now," he admitted, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "But even if tonight was all a total failure, I know I might've still done it because it's you, Peach. It's you... I've known for years you're who I want, I just never knew how to do this - to move us forward. You're my first relationship, hopefully my only relationship, and I just didn't know how to advance us. I think when things got real for me, my insecurities crept in, and I just reacted - I didn't think."
"We always said when this wasn't healthy or when this wasn't good for us anymore, we'd walk away," you reminded. "That we'd rather be sad or angry about a breakup instead of letting resentment fester from being together."
"It's still good for me, Peach, we're still good," he whispered, stepping closer. "Is it still good for you? Or did I lose you completely tonight?"
"I don't know, Carmy, you've been lashing out a lot lately. At me specifically."
"And with The Bear now open, I-I should be okay. You know? Back to normal?"
You chuckled dryly, "I see, back to your high walls? Emotional constipation?"
"Then maybe not normal," he corrected, "because I just needed to get us here, to tonight, to opening, and then show you that it's over. Show you that part of our lives is over and we only have more adventures to look forward to. Not ones like this, though," he gestured up the street, your eyes cutting over and realizing you were back at The Bear.
"Do you really think you're a psycho?"
He chuckled, "After tonight? Yeah, pretty convinced... Plus, I, uh, I saw in the freezer the way we're labeling things - and got angry about it. Angry about the way we were tearing tape and labeling things. It was so fucking stupid, but I just - I felt so crazy. I still do, I still feel like my head doesn't make sense and I'm a bit, you know... Crazy."
You nodded slowly, "Then how can you promise me this kinda shit won't happen again?"
"I don't think I can, but I can make you the promise that I am working on it; trying to identify when I feel reactive, trying to calm that down. I'm trying, Peach, I really am - it's just... Taking a lot of time," he sighed sadly. "And I know you don't have any more left to give me."
"I've already given you this many years," you reminded softly, "I think I could spare another or two if it meant you getting your shit together, that you get better, stop feeling so crazy."
"I don't deserve anymore time - "
"I think you need to step back and reevaluate what it means to be deserving because you always say that. That you don't deserve something - even as simple as time. Everyone deserves time and opportunity to figure shit out, Carmy, and you're no exception."
He nodded, "I'm... Trying." He took a long, deep breath, "I'm, uh... Going to meetings, you know, like, uh, Al-Anon and whatever."
"That's good, they're there to help," you nodded, stepping closer to take his hands in yours after closing the ring box and stuffing it back in his pocket. "Now, I think you need to do something."
"Anything, Peach."
"Take my hand, bring me back to The Bear, and go about your plan."
He froze in shock, blinking at you in earnest, "You really mean that?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"No, ma'am, and I think that scares me more."
"You'd rather break up? 'Cause at this point, Carm, we either move forward with this engagement and fucking work our shit out, or we break up. It's been almost a decade. It's your choice, you're the one who was saying he couldn't be someone's husband, that he didn't need to provide anyone nor have them provide you with anything. So, you tell me what you want to do - because all I know is that I love you, I want you for life, but not if you're going to resent me and regret moving our relationship forward. I don't need to get married, Carmy, but you can't keep jerking me around like you have been. So... Make a decision based on what you want - based on what's best for you. Not what's best for us, but put yourself first right now, Carmy, and make a decision about what you want."
With a nod of his head, Carmy cleared his throat and offered you his hand. When he felt you lock your fingers with his, he glanced up and down the street, then lead you across it. Up the sidewalk and to the front door of The illuminating Bear, he paused to produce his keys and then lead you inside.
The lights were dim, but a flip of the switch brightly lit up the newly constructed restaurant. He seemed nervous at your cool demeanor, watching you shed your coat and set your purse down; but his hand took yours again and lead you further into the place. He seemed nervous, but once in the kitchen, it was almost like Carmy's stress melted away.
"I was... I had this plan," he explained softly, leaning on one of the work stations with both hands in yours to keep you in front of him. "I have all these candles, right? Was gonna distract you in here," he looked around the fluorescent lighting, "while Richie, Fak, Tina, and the others set everything up. We'd hang in here after the place was closed down, you know, show you around the completed kitchen. And really casually, I'd ask if you were ready to go, so, we'd go out the front, and we'd walk right into the candlelight..."
"Yeah?" He nodded, thumbs running over your hands as he pushed off the counter. "Don't deviate from your plan now..."
Carmy smirked, "Wanna hear the boring kitchen stuff?"
"Of course, I do."
So, he lead you around in a tour of the kitchen; showing off the new office space that he invited you to take advantage of whenever you wanted. The sleek appliances were shown off, the vast fridges, freezers, new cutlery, state-of-the-art dishwashers. Everything, he showed you, knowing you helped him pick a lot of it out - it was still nice to see it all come together finally.
And then, slowly, he lead you out of the kitchen, but to your honest shock, the dining room was covered in lit candles and different bouquets of thick, gorgeous floral arrangements. "Oh, holy shit," you breathed, Carmy hiding his confusion much better than you.
You came to a slow halt in the middle of the room, the lights out and only leaving the candles to provide an ambiance. "I had this whole speech planned, too," Carmy told you softly. "Remind you of the day we met, how you saved me from those jackass bullies - remember?"
You smiled softly, emotions swirling in your chest, "First day of first grade, you had a Buzz Lightyear backpack and some kids were picking on you 'cause of it."
"And what did you do?"
You felt bashful remembering, but humored him by answering, "Pushed their faces in the mud at recess and made them apologize."
"You've been my best friend since that day," he nodded, bringing you in a few steps closer. "And when we got to high school, my feelings changed. You weren't just my best friend, but the girl I was madly in love with... Took me a couple years to buck up the courage to ask you out officially, though."
"Sure took your sweet time," you whispered with a smile, "but all good things to those who wait, right?"
"And I think you've waited long enough for a man to be who you deserve," he frowned. "All these years - it's been you at my side. You even - fuck - you even came over to Amsterdam for a bit because I was feeling overwhelmed and lonely. Sad, maybe even a little homesick. But you just - you just showed up like it was the most common thing in the world."
You chuckled through your tears, "Yeah, we had some good times on that boat, didn't we?"
He nodded with a softening smile, pushing hair from your face and behind your ear; pausing to hold your cheek carefully. "And when we came back stateside... You were still the only constant presence in my life. You were my family without blood, and I knew after that Christmas that you'd forever be my other half, and I'd spend my life conveying how grateful I am for you. I just - I never knew how to put it into words until now."
"What changed?"
"Realizing that I wanted to marry you years ago - and I should've. I know I shouldn't have drug my feet with us, delay our inevitable, because honestly? I couldn't see my life without you in it and I knew I needed you with me forever. Peach," he frowned, reaching for your other cheek, "we agreed when this wasn't healthy, we'd walk away - I remember that. But I need you to know, I'll never fucking regret you. I'll never resent you. You've been unwaveringly supportive and loving and... And I've been the luckiest man to experience it all. But now," he pushed himself a step closer so he was hovered over your lips, "I know that you deserve someone just as present in this relationship as you are. I knew once The Bear was done, I was done - I was done beating this bush around and wasting time. I knew what I needed to do because the idea of you not being in my life anymore terrifies me more than anything. I don't remember life without you, Peach, and I don't ever want to know what it's like. So," he cleared his throat, "here, in the restaurant I so desperately wanted to give up on so many times, but you always stopped me, I wanted to make this official. I wanted it to be here to show you that the past year of our turmoil - it's fucking over, Peach. We did it," he whispered, "and now, the next and only thing I want to focus on is us."
Carmy readjusted you both for a little bit of space, holding your left hand tightly as he lowered himself to a single knee; looking up at you with those big, wide, sad blue eyes that were growing redder by the passing second. The candlelight created a romantic atmosphere that cocooned you both in a warm embrace, the flowers around you projecting their floral scent.
"So, I need to ask you something real important, baby," he whispered, his throat bobbing to restrain his emotion that clawed up his throat, "because if I don't, I don't think I could breathe again." He cleared his throat, pulling the ring box from his pocket and opening it to present to you officially. "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N... My sweetest Peach, I've loved you almost my entire life, you're my best friend, my most loyal and sweetest confidant. You make me want to be a man better than I was yesterday and never before have I ever seriously considered marriage - until you. Now? Now, I can't get the idea out of my head, so, my sweet girl," he took another breath, the tears in his eyes swelling and slowly dripping down his cheeks as you slowly got on your knees in front of him, "I need to ask you... W-Would you do me the honor? Of being my wife?"
"Carmen."
He grinned at you, both with tears down your cheeks. "Will you marry me, Y/N? I can't see my life without you in it, so... I want this, I want you for life. Y/N, will you marry me?" He paused, adding a meek little, "Please?" at the end.
With a deep breath, you slowly reached for his cheeks in a soft caress to wipe his tears; both just staring at one another for a good few moments before a face-splitting grin nearly cracked your lips. "Yes," you finally answered, "yeah, yes, yes, of course, I'll marry you, Carmen, yes!"
"Oh, thank fuckin' God," he laughed, letting you lunge forward to knock him backward in a hug - missing the candles arranged in a small circle for you two to stand in. Carmy laughed loudly, happily, giving you a tight squeeze as he mused, "Had my heart beatin' outta my chest for a second there, Peach."
"Oh, please," you laughed, "after all this time, you really thought I'd say no?"
He shrugged meekly, "Thought my most recent fuck-ups would've added to any reasons you might have to say no."
"Oh, spare me - you're my best friend, Carmy, you know I couldn't ever say no to you. Not without puking in nervousness."
"Can we maybe not talk about puke when we just got engaged?"
You laughed and nodded, "Fine, fine, fine, then put the ring on, please."
You presented your left manicured hand, watching Carmy almost giddily removed the band from the box, took a slow, deep breath, and then, the most beautiful ring was being slid onto your finger in an official show of your engagement. Of your undying love. Of your commitment, promises, and future together.
"YEAH!" An array of varying cheers and hollers of support and excitement rang out around you; startling both you and Carmy to look up. Richie, Sydney, Tina, Neil, Theo, Pete, and Sugar all hung in the bathroom's alcove - watching with splitting grins and cheering in celebration.
There was no time to question them as Richie lead the charge over; helping you to your feet for a giant, bear hug before gushing over your engagement ring. Neil and Theo popped one of the authentic bottles of champagne, pouring different flutes for those present.
"Calm down," Natalie scolded Richie lightly, "and move out the way, I want to hug my engaged bestie!"
You squealed with Sugar when her arms wrapped around you tightly, Rich moving on to congratulate Carmy - who apologized for his angry words earlier and thanked them for still setting things up. Richie promised it was for you, not Carmy, but still hugged the little shit with a laugh - indicating he was just joking.
"Let me see!" Natalie grinned, examining the ring Carmy chose and squealing again. "Oh, my God! Oh, it's so pretty! Oh, shit - sisters!" She gasped, holding your hands tightly, "We're going to be sisters - like, officially!"
"Sisters in law, but yeah, cupcake," you beamed at her, wiping your tears and giggling. "I can't - this just doesn't feel real," you told her softly, looking the few feet over to see Carmy with the lads as Sydney stood with you and Sugar. "Him proposing? I genuinely thought it wouldn't happen," you tried to laugh your nerves off, looking at your ring and fiddling with it.
"Yeah, right," Sydney laughed. "I haven't been around that long and even I knew this was gonna happen."
"Oh, please, she's right," Natalie grinned when you went to retaliate, "he first started talking about how he wanted to marry you when he was, like, 15. This has been the longest thing coming."
"Thank you guys for helping," you whispered with a smile. "It's all so beautiful."
"Happy to help for a good cause," Syd smiled, complimenting your ring as Neil called for a toast. Everyone was given flutes of champagne, Carmy's arm wrapping around your waist as each friend gave their own little speech, congratulating you both before the alcohol was being drained.
"Uh, and where are you two going?" Sugar asked about an hour later with a small giggle when Carmy wrapped an arm around your neck after helping you into your coat again.
"Gotta celebrate alone with my fiancé," he smirked, "later, guys! Don't forget to lock up!"
"Carmen!" You scolded with a small laugh, gaping at him.
"What? They got this," Carmy chuckled. "Thanks, you guys, see you tomorrow!"
"We can help clean," you told him as he lead you out of the restaurant.
"Nah, we've got bigger plans," he smirked at you. "Got plenty t'celebrate, yeah? Ever fucked as fiancés before?"
"No - but I hear it's some crazy sex," you whispered, locking your arms around his waist to stay close. Neither of you cared about the bus at this hour, opting to walk home in the cold - not that you felt it. Your love burned brighter than the cold biting your skin.
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requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
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blueparadis · 5 months
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satoru gets so clingy whenever he is out in public with you, especially knowing that you hate pda. he will hold your hand, and kiss the back of your palm making you cringe, claiming that if you get lost his kiss will protect you, lead you back to him. yeah, he is corny too.
when the relationship is fresh and growing he sometimes used to forget how big he is, as in, he would just casually make you sit in between his legs in a mixer or gathering if there was no seat available but now that he is well accustomed to it along with your tantrums he just makes fun of it.
At a close gathering of friends, he grabs you when you enter the room and gathers you in his lap, as one holds a child. he thinks you will just get flustered, but to his utter disbelief, you just scream,"Put me down Satoru." gaining everyone's full attention now. You sure are brave he thinks, yet once he sees your flustered face he grins saying, "Nope."
"Put.me.down." You repeat; this time putting emphasis on each word.
He softly exclaims, "What? babe are you scared of a little height?" as if this room full of people is talking and would not at all hear him. A series of laughter fills the room. Geto is taking out his phone. Shoko is just holding her laughter watching you two. Gojo notices you bite your lip out of shame and anger. There is also a deft in between your eyebrows. He loves how you get so scared, and so emotional of him, at times.
"Say, 'Daddy please' put me down." He still has the audacity to push your buttons knowing full well he is going to sleep on the couch tonight. You notice that his dearest friend has the recorder on filming both of you.
"is that a live?" Haibara exclaims peeking into Geto's phone. "Are you on live, geto-san?" He repeats in utter disbelief. You could feel how warm your ears are thinking how many are just watching you two at this very moment. Geto just clicks his tongue putting his phone back in his pocket.
"Y/N-san. you can say it." He keeps his hands tucked in front of him adding," I've turned off my phone," Your mouth just falls apart seeing him flip so easily. Just two days ago he was telling that you should not do whatever Satoru asks you to,it is gonna make him so overconfident about himself rather than your relationship with him.
"We will look away," Nanami adds since there is no way Gojo is going to let your feet touch the ground until you fulfill his demand.
"Seriously, you too Kento?" You complain. Nanami shrugs his shoulder, laughing. You do a quick of the room and see everyone is waiting. Leaning towards his ears, you say, "Daddy please, put me down," pouting; when everyone just 'ho's in amusement you leave a little peck on his cheek before he puts you down. He will think of that soft kiss when you grow old with him, because any form of showing his love reverting back stays heavy on his mind, lulling him into a different reality, like a mind high on intoxication as if he is far away from this world regulated with neon lights and numbers; far away where it is just him and you basking under the sunlight hiding in the meadows at some warm winter morning.
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sparrowlucero · 2 months
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Instead of discourse about showrunners and lesbians and whatever, I'm gonna bring a different type of discourse...whats ur fav and least Dr Whomst monsters. Hard mode: only the practical ones.
ok so I do like all the obvious ones, I like the angels, I like the vashta nerada, I like the not-things, I like the eternals. Here's a few deeper cuts (focusing on the tv show specifically):
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they peaked with these maggots. they rock. pretty sure they're made with taxidermy? really great puppetry. I really like this thing:
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what a cool design for this kind of forgotten midseason episode.
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this is such a fun design for a langolier-type monster. I love how their crest and tail gives them the silhouette of a grim reaper
The 60s cybermen rock. I feel like they're hesitant to use them often in the modern show because they do look very 1960s but I think there's something really uncomfortable and evocative about the cloth faces that's lost when they're cool metallic robots. The mix between looking like an old diving suit and the implication of there being a chopped up person inside is gnarly and I love it. Simple, creepy, iconic design.
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My favorite design in the show is probably this:
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The 456 from the spinoff series torchwood. They didn't need the puppet to emote or move a ton since it spends the entire season in a little tank obscured in mist, so they just went crazy with the design and made it really bizarre looking. Extremely top tier alien. Anyways, negative. I really don't like this satan. the satan kind of sucks. the impossible planet is great atmospheric sci fi horror; every image of build up in it is haunting and leagues ahead of the climactic scene where he meets the satan. It singlehandedly kind of kills the vibe.
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Personally I would have just kept the actual appearance off screen, just have it be eyes in the dark or something. Apparently they also tossed around the idea that it would end up being a normal little girl who was chained up in the cave and I think that would have visually fit the rest of the episode better.
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I'm really not big on the modern design for the sea devils (the green one on the right). I think the classic ones clearly took a lot of direct influence from real animals and generally is a pretty thoughtfully realized design, the modern ones seem like they were first and foremost using the classic ones for reference and didn't quite capture the nuance of the design. Sad, as I would really like to see design for these guys with modern puppetry.
I think this is actually a pretty contentious opinion but the work of the specific studio who headed this redesign generally wasn't my favorite. Apparently there was some sort of major, semi public falling out between the fx studio that had been working on the show since 2005 and the people who started running the show in 2018, and they were briefly replaced with a much less experienced studio. No hate to them of course (I think this was actually their first job like, ever, and a lot of the work was done in crunch time?) but the difference did stand out to me:
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samkerrworshipper · 2 months
Text
the monsters gone
part 3 of beautiful girl series -> part 1 -> part 2
leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader (wobbs as moms)
warnings: drug addiction, drug abuse, talks of illicit substances, depression, intrusive thoughts, would not advise for people in a bad mental headspace
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You wanted her to leave, or you were desperate for a fix and well aware that it wasn’t going to happen until she was gone and you could retreat up to your room like normal. 
You scratched at the incision on your forearm, it was hidden underneath your hoodie but you could feel it all the same, it made you feel guilty. 
You’d never felt guilty for taking drugs, why would you? It was your choice, your body, your brain that you were fucking with. Yet for some reason, the little mark that you knew was sitting right on top of your vein was making you feel guilty. You didn’t want to admit it, but it felt oddly like the start of something, you weren’t sure what though, whatever it was though, it didn’t feel good. 
When the door clicked open around 2 o’clock you felt far more at peace, watching your mom hobble through the door with Lia following her. Jordan stood up almost immediately and if the room hadn’t already been awkward then the awkwardness found a whole new definition as the two women looked at each other. 
“Hey Jord, thanks for hanging around, you’re looking good.”
Your mom looked relieved to see Jordan, your ma on the other side looked slightly terrified as she eyed up the two women. 
“It wasn’t an issue, you know I love spending time with my chick.”
Leah smiled, looking down at you on the couch, you buried your head in your phone, ignoring her gaze. 
“Whether she admits it or not she likes seeing you as well.”
Your ma laughed awkwardly, it took everything in you to not burst out laughing at all of the tension between the two of them. 
“Look I’ll be heading off, gotta me back in Birmingham for game review tonight but can we talk for a minute though Le?”
Your mom’s head cocked to the side, a look of curiosity evident on her face. 
“Yeah sure, come with me.”
Lia watches them with the same look of curiosity as you, your eyes meeting as the trail back from the doorway to Leah’s office that they both step into. 
“They’re talking about me.”
Lia doesn’t bother trying to ignore you or deny what you’re saying, she nodes her head. 
“Probably, that’s what most parents do.”
It’s a absentminded answer, and for a second your aware that maybe Lia is in on whatever is happening, that she knows exactly what is going on behind the door. If anything important came from the phone call earlier you know Lia would be the first to know, she was like the third parent you never asked for nor wanted, but somehow ended up with. 
“Ma thinks that Mom’s parenting is shit.”
Lia cocks her head, she’s harder to read then your moms, more calculated, more clean, less obviously emotional. 
“She just disagrees with some of the things that your mother does, so do I. Nobody else is in her shoes though, she makes the decisions that are necessary and best for you.”
Lia sounds convinced of her words, even though you doubt them. 
“Ma doesn’t think so.”
Lia bit down on her bottom lip, finishing with tucking her kit bag away so she could focus her attention on you. 
“She worries about you.”
You did your best to suppress the eye roll, it didn’t work. 
“She worries that mom is too nice and isn’t strict enough.”
Sometimes you thought that your mom compensated for the void between the two of you by letting you do whatever you wanted, other times you were reminded by your grandma that she’d told Leah she needed to go easy on you and that not everyone could be as perfect as Leah Williamson. 
“Your mom knows what you need better than anybody else.”
The conversation paused, the two of you flinching at the sound of yelling from the other side of the door, you couldn’t make out what was being said, both of them were yelling though. 
“Set the table for lunch for me, kiddo?”
You couldn’t pull your eyes from the door, you hadn’t hear your moms yell in a long time, it took you back to when they were breaking up, when they tried to act like they weren’t, when they saved the fighting and yelling for when you’d been tucked into bed and they’d thought you were asleep. 
“Kiddo, table.”
You stood up from the couch, your eyes staying stuck to the door, even as you pulled cutlery from the drawer and laid it out with the placemats on the table. Eventually, the yelling ceased, and the room was over come with a silence like no other, only being broken by the door opening and your two moms walking out, both of them looking far more content considering that it had sounded like they were screaming at each other, not thirty seconds ago. 
“Bubba, Jord is going to head off, if you want to say bye.”
Jordan’s arms opened up to you and as mad and confused as you were, you weren’t going to deny her. You walked around the table, leaning into her hug, wrapping your arms around her the same way she did for you, letting her hold on for a little bit longer. 
“I’ll be back when I can chicky, I love you so much.”
You wanted to tell her she was lying, that they were all lying, they didn’t fucking love you, it was so fucking obvious. But for the sake of keeping the peace you didn’t. 
“I love you too Ma.”
Jordan let go of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The same way she had when they’d adopted you when you were eight, the same way she had after your first game when you were 12, the same way she had when you were 14 and you’d been top of your form and given an award, the same way she had when she’d left for good when you were 16. It was the same kiss, yet everything about it was different, the meaning, the purpose, the intention, it was all different. 
You watched as she walked out the door, the same as every time, you listened to the sound of her car starting and the sound of gravel underneath her tires as she pulled out and onto the road. 
Once you were sure she was gone you turned around, sliding into a seat at the table, across from your mother, staring at her. 
“What were you guys talking about?”
Leah looked at you, poker face as good as ever. 
“Football, some other stuff.”
It was a obvious lie, both you and Lia knew it. 
“You were talking about me, what about me?” Leah rolled her eyes at you. 
“It was a conversation between your Ma and I, not for your ears.”
You didn’t bat an eye as Lia set lunch down in front of you, to fixated on your mother. 
“You don’t yell over nothing, what were you talking about.”
Leah pushed her tongue out against her lips. 
“Your ma had some concerns about you, that’s it, I told her she had nothing to worry about and that we were doing just fine.”
You knew that even if you didn’t want to admit it, Jordan probably had some valid points, your mom seemed unphased though. 
“That’s it?”
Leah looked at you, and you could tell that she was holding something back. 
“She told me that you’d told her you smoked weed last night and that you were vomiting this morning.”
You tried to keep your face from changing, keeping the confident exterior even if you were slightly scared on the inside. 
“I got drunk, I had some fun, it was no biggy.”
Leah’s eyebrow rose in the trademark question. 
“It’s a biggy to me because you told all you were doing was vaping and a little bit of drinking, you said you’d be honest with me and it’s clear you haven’t been.”
You hesitated for a second, the air thickening around you as suddenly the tension was between you and your mother. 
“I was just having some fun mom, I didn’t do anything stupid, I was safe, just like you asked.”
Leah’s face shrivelled up as you used her words against her. 
“You were out with friends I’ve never met, at a house on the opposite side of town that I’ve never been too, Jord said you looked like you’d been on a three day bender and I told her that I didn’t believe her but now you’re here admitting it.”
You reached into your pocket for your vape, desperate for something to take the edge of the conversation off, to make you feel calmer. 
You pulled it out and Leah’s face immediately pointed inwards.
“How many times do I have to say no vape at the table?”
You frowned, shoving it back in your pocket. 
“It was just a bit of weed mom, it’s what kids my age do.”
Leah shook her head. 
“It wasn’t just a bit of weed, I’ve been smelling it on your clothes for weeks and trying to tell myself I was being delusional because you’d told me you were just on the vape, that you had no interest in drugs and yet you were lying to me, you have been for a while bubba and I don’t know how to feel about it to be honest. I thought we were closer than most parents and kids, I thought we had boundaries and that I was giving you enough space, and now I don’t know what to think.”
You pursed your lips, struggling to find words. 
“And if you’re lying to me about weed then what else is there? What else is there you aren’t telling me because there has to be more. I let you drop football, I relaxed on the school because I know you were struggling but this doesn’t work if you aren’t honest with me.” 
You really didn’t know what to say, your mind was in a million different places, the container underneath your bed, the joints on your windowsill hidden behind the curtains, the three vapes in your bedside table, the drug dealer numbers in your phone, what had happened last night, the meth track mark on your arm. 
“Nothing, it was just some weed, I just wanted something to take the edge off, it was no big deal.”
Leah’s eyes closed for a second and you knew this was all about to get a lot harder. 
“Except it was a big deal because you’ve been doing it behind my backs for weeks, I’ve tried to be understanding bubba, I have, I know it’s been tough for you with me and Jords breakup, you’ve had a really hard year, I let the vaping slide, I let your attendance drop at school, but drugs bub, it’s no joke.”
You took a deep breath. 
“It’s just some weed, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
Leah wants to say that if you’re this relaxed about being caught doing weed then she doesn’t want to know what else you’re hiding from her that would make you less relaxed, but she keeps it to herself, or for this moment at least. 
“I want you to bring me whatever you have of it, I won’t have you smoking illicit and illegal substances underneath my roof.”
You figured there were worse things that could happen, she could find your stash, she could take your vape, she could ground you or make you go to school. 
“Okay.”
Your mom nodded, happy she had at least won a small battle. 
“After lunch.”
You nod again in agreeance, looking down at the caesar salad in front of you and stabbing your fork down onto it, picking up the different pieces of lettuce and chicken scattered throughout. 
You make it through half the meal before you grab your bowl and pick it up, walking into the kitchen to do you washing up, your mom follows behind you, her bowl empty. 
You take the dish from her, cleaning it out and stacking both of them in the dishwasher, knowing whats to come now. 
You slow yourself down on the stairs giving her the time to follow behind you as she dragged her bad leg up every individual stair. 
Leah had been putting in hours everyday for her rehab, it was her main focus, over everything else. 
Eventually the two of you made it to the top of the stairs, and eventually to your bedroom door.
You hesitated before opening it, you couldn’t remember the last time Leah had been inside it, way before her acl, ever since she’d gotten injured she’d been avoiding the staircase. 
You opened the door, hand pausing on the cold metal doorknob for a split second before pushing it open. 
Your room was still freezing, you didn’t miss how your mother shivered from the breeze that hit her face immediately, coming straight from the open window. 
“Jesus kiddo, you trying to replicate antarctica in here? You know I pay good money for heating, right?”
It’s a lighthearted joke, yet somehow it hurts for you, you don’t know how or why, you just know that it does. 
“I like it cold.”
Leah looks at you, both brows furrowed inwards. 
“Alright then polar bear.”
You try not to flinch away when her hand reaches up to ruffle your hair, it’s something she’s done to you since you were a kid, it feels wrong now though. 
“Let’s just get this over and done with.”
You walk over to your windowsill, reaching behind the curtain and reaching for the bag of joints that you have stashed behind the material. Leah frowns as you walk back over to her, shoving the bag into her hands before she can even ask. 
“This is all of them?”
She looks completely unconvinced, you probably would be too, most kids don’t give up their drugs willingly. 
“Yes.”
Leah looks at you, eye to eye, like she’s trying to reach into your soul, or read your mind. 
“Bubba, this is your chance, I’m giving you an opportunity to be straight with me, and whatever you tell me or give me I won’t be mad about. I might want to sit down and question your decisions, but I won’t be mad. Teenagers are stupid, they make mistakes, they try new things, I get it. Be honest with me bubba, please.”
You didn’t really know what Leah was insinuating, but it was clear that she knew there was a bigger picture here. 
“That’s it mom.”
You had to tear your eyes away from her, you couldn’t handle the way that she was looking at you, the mix of disappointment, resentment and worry mixed into her blue irises. 
“Bubba, don’t make me search your room, don’t make me have to ground you, don’t make me have to call Jord and get her to turn the car around to help me out.”
You brought your eyes back to Leah’s. 
“That’s it mom, I don’t know what you want me to tell you, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
You were lying through your teeth and the fact you couldn’t look eye to eye with Leah would have been enough of a warning sign of that. 
“Drugs bubba, that’s what I’m talking about, you’re lying straight to my fucking face right now, I don’t know what about or why but you are.”
You didn’t know what to say, you weren’t going to admit it, you couldn’t, but you needed to say something. Fuck, you were so fucked. 
You tried to spin it in your head, tried to think about how you could make this work out. You were caught, you were done, this was bad. 
Your eyes darted to below your bed, rookie fucking mistake. 
Leah caught your line of sight, and you knew as soon as she did that it was all about to go to fucking shit, that you were done for. 
“Lia.”
Your mom’s voice was urgent, a yell that had the swiss woman bounding up the stairs in a matter of seconds. 
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
You were so fucking fucked. 
You were frozen in your spot, your mom’s eyes looking at you like she’d just been stabbed in the heart. 
“Bubba, you can get whatever you are hiding from me or I will get Lia to tear this whole room a part, I’m not fucking around.”
You felt torn down the middle, your brain couldn’t think, you felt the same sickness sink in from this morning, instead of it being withdrawals from drugs though it was the realisation that your whole life was about to be turned upside down. 
You tried to think, tried to think about how you could spin this, make it a little bit better than it really was. 
Lia looked more uncomfortable then possible, you wished a blackhole would randomly pop up and swallow all three of you. 
Something hit you, it wasn’t a full resolution but it was better than what you currently had going for you. 
You walked over to your bed, with unsteadier legs then last night when you were so drunk the world was spinning, crouching down when you got to the edge, feeling for the familiar container that held all of your deepest darkest secrets, or at least that’s how it felt. 
It took you back to a time when you’d made Leah check under your bed everynight for the monsters under your bed, now though she was looking for the monsters in your head, the monsters that had turned her little perfect girl into whatever you were now. 
Your hand eventually met the hard plastic, you pulled it out, biting down on the inside of your cheek as you stood up and sat down on the edge of your bed. 
Leah took a couple steps closer to you, standing directly in front of you. 
“Look, it’s not mine, I only did it twice, my friends bought it over, I swear.”
Half of it was true. 
“Open the box, bubba.”
You felt your throat tighten, you felt like you were going to vomit, or pass out, or have a heart attack. 
“Mom, I didn’t want to, I don’t even like it, I just did it because my friends were, I swear.”
It was also another half truth. 
“Bubba, open the box.”
You bit down even harder on the inside of your cheek, reaching for the edge of the plastic box and opening it, revealing the two baggies of white powder inside of it. 
Leah’s face fell, in a way that you’d never seen, you’d seen her disappointed before, this wasn’t it, it was something else entirely and you weren’t sure what. 
“Bubba.”
Your mom was a overly emotional person, you couldn’t handle her crying right now though, you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t deal with her pretending she gave a shit when this was the first time in months that it felt like she cared, and it was all because of Jordan, not on her own volition. 
“I swear mom, I swear, it’s not mine, I promise.”
It wasn’t a lie, it hadn’t started out as yours, you’re friends had left it behind after a weekend hangout and had never asked for it back, so it technically wasn’t yours, technically. 
“Bubba, what is it?”
Leah reached for the box, picking up the two bags, the bags that you felt like held your whole life together. 
“Cocaine, it’s just a little bit of coke, my friends were using it before parties, I didn’t like it, it made me feel dizzy and it hurt my head.”
The cocaine bit was a lie, but the fact you didn’t like cocaine wasn’t, it was the kind of stimulant which put you into over drive, the high lasted no where near as long and it made you feel like you weren’t making sense.
You were hoping she would believe the cocaine, inevitably, cocaine was a pissy drug. Leah would have been at thousands of parties were cocaine was handed around, hell, you were fairly certain your mother had taken plenty of it. Cocaine was less addictive, good cocaine was also stupidly expensive, the value of it was fucked. Meth was cheap but a thousand times more addictive, cocaine was a better like. 
“Lia, get rid of it.”
Your mom handed the bag of joints over to Lia, as well as the bags of drugs, shoving them into her hands like they were burning her hands. “I don’t even know what to say to you bubba.”
Your mom looked genuinely at a loss for words, her eyes kept darting between your eyes and your hands, which were shaking in front of you. 
“Mom, I promise, it was only a one time thing, really, I was just keeping it for my friends.”
As soon as the tears started spilling down Leah’s face you knew it was about to get bad. 
She walked over to your desk, pulling the chair out from it and dragged it across the room until it was directly in front of you, your mother taking a seat. 
Her hands came out to rest on your knees, they were shaking like yours, not as badly but still shaking, though for different reasons you assumed. 
“You told me the weed was a one time thing, that was a lie. I don’t know what to believe anymore, you’ve put me in a impossible situation, bubba. On one hand, I want to believe you. I want to believe the kid I raised, on the other hand you haven’t given me reason to. You broke my trust, you lied to me, you broke the house rules. I don’t ask a lot of you, I let you get away with more than your ma would let you, and I was fine with it because you were showing me you were a good kid, but now I honestly don’t know what to think. You told me it was just the vapes, I thought you were using a little bit to much nicotine and now it turns out that you’re smoking pot and doing drugs. You’ve been hiding and lying and I just don’t get why. Why bubba? Tell me why.”
Big tears were dripping from your mothers eyes, big, wet, fat tears pooling in her icey blue eyes. 
“I don’t know, okay? I’m sorry mom, I’m really sorry. I’m sorry. I love you, I didn’t mean it, it was just some fun, it was a one time thing, I promise.”
Leah pursed her lips, the same way you were, the sleeve of her shirt was pressed to her face, picking up the tears that were dripping down her jaw. 
“I’m going to go and call your ma, this is a discussion we need to be having together, I need her here for this.”
Little did they know how bad it really was. 
Leah stood up, you thought she would just leave, heading back down to make a call to your ma that would inevitably change your life, instead, she sat down next to you, her arms opening up. 
You leaned into her side, letting her wrap both of her arms around you. 
“I’m sorry mom, I’m sorry.”
It was the only thing you could think of saying, the only thing that sounded right coming off the tip of your tongue. 
“I love you so much my beautiful girl, we’ll figure this out, your ma and I, we’re all going to figure this out.”
Leah held onto you for a little bit longer, her arms tightening onto you like you were holding her down to earth, like she would float away if she didn’t. 
Eventually she let go, her face was puffy and red, her sleeves were red and she sounded all sniffly. 
“I’m going to go and phone Jord, we’re going to sort it all out, we’ll figure this out, okay? We’re both here for you, we both love you so much, you’re our little girl.”
You found it weird how easy it slipped off of her tongue, you wondered if she actually believed that she meant it, you wondered if when your mother said it that she meant it without really meaning it. There were words but there were no actions to support those words, just empty syllables and letters all formed together in a intricate lie. 
You watched as Leah limped her way out of your room, her bad leg trailing behind her good one, rule number one of parenting a child you now know is drug addicted, never leave them alone in a room they can escape from when you’ve just confronted them. 
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popopretty · 5 months
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[Translation] Asagiri Kafka's afterwords for The Day I Picked up Dazai novel
Normally, afterwords would be the last thing I read in a novel, but as there are not many changes to the published novel this time compared to the movie bonus version, I was able to skim through the text quickly and get to this. And to be honest, despite not being a writer myself, I was so moved by Asagiri's views about writing and his characters that he shared in the afterwords, that I had to sit down and translate it right away.
This is just my crappy translation, as usual, but I hope it gave you a short, interesting look into the author and the characters. And please do not forget to buy the novel if you have the chance.
The translation is under the cut, thank you!
It has been a while. This is Asagiri Kafka.
Have you been enjoying Bungou Stray Dogs?
This novel, “The Day I Picked up Dazai”, is a compilation of the first week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side A” and the second week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side B” for the screening of “Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST” movie (hereinafter referred to as “BEAST”).
Normally, it is difficult to publish a bonus like this, but since "BEAST” and “Fifteen” that were published earlier by BEANS Bunko were originally bonus novels too, "The Day I Picked up Dazai” was also published in the same way, thanks to the efforts of all parties involved in the Bungou Stray Dogs series.
It is the story of Dazai and Odasaku’s first meeting, where Dazai who wants to die, collapsed in front of Odasaku’s place, who is neither a mafioso nor a hit man.
Why are there two different stores, Side A and Sode B? Regarding this question, please read the novel and see for yourself. If you keep in mind that this is the bonus for the BEAST movie, I think you will be able to understand it better.
Let me reminisce a little bit here.
This story was actually suggested to me by Igarashi Takuya, Director of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime.
Shortly before BEAST movie premiered, I was struggling. It was because I was asked to write a bonus novel for movie-goers again. I said “again” because, as I mentioned earlier, BEAST itself was a bonus novel for the Bungou Stray Dogs DEAD APPLE movie. I remembered having a hard time writing it, because I let myself run wild and wrote a total of 190 pages instead of 50 pages as requested.
But I had learnt my lesson after the last rampage. I can’t just write whatever I want anymore. I have to wrap the story in a reasonable length, like a pro should do.
A proper, professional story.
Huh?
My pen stopped right there. I stopped, looked around, feeling lost.
What is a proper story?
The act of writing novel is quite different in character compared to other types of media such as writing manga, anime scripts, or game scenarios. You can say it is almost a different thing. Writing novels, rather than narrating an event, is more like putting the flow of emotions into specific sentences. You use the sequence of letters to create rhythms, create flows, and create emotions. If anything, it might be closer to composing a song than writing a story.
Therefore, you have to decide “what kind of emotion will be put in this novel” from the very beginning, or you can’t start writing. That is the only and absolute rule.
Now, however, that is where the condition of a “proper story” hung over me.
A proper novel, of a proper volume, with a proper content for a bonus.
In other words, a proper emotion.
I searched through the drawers inside my head. For a proper emotion that is waiting to be brought out.
There was nothing but emptiness there.
A professional story teller is one with the skill to move the readers’ emotions. When people find the chance to move their own emotions, they will happily be paying for it. Human-being is that kind of creature.
And writers are ones who create and sell those kinds of emotions: the fear, the excitement, the heart throb etc., those that make you think. It is that kind of job.
It is supposed to be that kind of job.
Yet I became unable to move forward.
A good story is a story that moves people. I know that. Then what kind of emotion I should put in the story to make it "proper"?
How do I find that emotion?
I mean, how did I even write novels until now?
I stood still. My legs stiffened, my knees froze, unable to take even a step forward.
I then tried to at least pretend that I was moving forward, by listening to music, by taking a walk around the neighborhood at night. But as good as the night breeze felt, I didn’t manage to reach a single story that I needed to write.
What if I stayed like this forever, what would I do?
I felt a chill plunging into my back.
Then I realized, that stories, or probably emotions too, are not things you can search for or come up with. You have no choice but to patiently wait for it to come your way. You have no choice but to humbly and earnestly sit and wait for the story’s visit.
I got that, but the "proper 50-page story” still refused to come.
It was not long before one week passed. Then two weeks.
I was doing other work, while keeping my heart’s door open, waiting for the story to come to me.
At that time, I had an online meeting with the anime staff. I casually asked Director Igarashi, “Do you have any story you want to see?”
The Director gave it a little thought then told me, "I want to see the story of Dazai and Oda’s encounter”.
At that very moment, the story rushed in through my door, like a bang. I could hear that sound very clearly.
Two stories. Odasaku, and the two Dazais. A story where they met, and a story where they couldn’t meet. A story of gain and a story of loss. If I can portray the gain and loss side by side, the amplitude of the heart will be doubled and rise up in front of us.
That was a momentary event. Rather than pushing my way forward, I felt as if something was pulling my hand. Before I noticed, I have already finished the stories.
I came to realize.
It is not the writer who searches for the story. It is the story that chooses its writer, and at some point it will come our way. A professional writer is no more than someone with the ability to catch that call.
Also, this is the most important thing: there is no such thing as a “proper emotion”. Because after all, the feelings of other people belong to them only. That is why there is no guarantee that a novel can move others “properly”. However, you can move your own emotions. You know what kind of novel can and how it will move you. If you do, you can write just that. That’s the only way. That is the truly professional attitude. That’s what I thought.
Well then.
It is a little bit off topic, but as we are talking about “stories that come our way”, let’s talk about Odasaku’s first-person narrative.
Odasaku is a special character. For me, he is exclusively a novel character, and I have never portrayed him in the manga.
He first appeared as the narrator in “Dazai Osamu and The Dark Era”, then “BEAST” and now this “The Day I Picked up Dazai”. All are novels. That’s why for me, Odasaku doesn’t live inside the pictures, he lives inside the first-person narrative passages.
He is an eccentric guy. Even if you prepare the place and tell him to speak, he won’t speak to you that easily. His way of thinking is rather unique, that if I write his narrative after writing other characters’ first-person narrative, I would stumble for sure. Odasaku doesn’t speak. He just sits there in silence, while I can do nothing but sitting in front of my blank manuscript paper, trying to talk to him, like “What’s up?”, “Here, here”. However, he is a guy who won’t speak when it is not necessary. Sometimes it goes days or even weeks without him saying a word. Why did such a character come to me...?
During such time, there is only one thing I can do. That is, of course, to stay with him, sit patiently, and simply wait.
Finally he will start speaking. In his unique rhythm, word by word. His words have the power to cut through the world from a certain angle. That special cross-section is full of things I have never seen before and it never fails to surprise me.
And then when he finishes telling his story, he will swiftly disappear. To a dark and quiet place somewhere – probably, I can only imagine, somewhere like a bar. He will sit there calmly and keep his own time to himself. After that, it will be hard to call him again. It is a backbreaking task to me, but in the end, that is the type of guy Odasaku is, and if I am allowed to sound self-conscious, that is Odasaku's charm.
This story was written in such a way. There is a chance that he will come back again. And when he does, I will patiently listen to his voice again.
This story was completed and published thanks to the help of many people: in the Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST movie’s Production Committee, the anime staff, Young Ace’s Editorial Department, BEANS Bunko’s Editorial Department, and the many people who were involved in the publication of the book. Thank you very much. It is all thanks to you that the book was published without any problem this time as well.
Well then, see you in the next story.
Asagiri Kafka.
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primofate · 2 years
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Protective Lover Series Part 2 - His reaction to seeing you cry (and it’s not because of him) [Genshin Impact]
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Ayato, Bennett, Chongyun, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Razor, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, gn!reader
Warnings: slight angst, more comfort and fluff than anything, not proofread, i appreciate people telling me that i missed to tag a character but the truth is i dont tag all the chars cause i think i have limited tags, no? some protective genshin guys
Personal Favourites: Tartaglia, Xiao, Zhongli
Other works in this series: (Part 1 - When someone badmouths you)
Aether
his heart breaks the same way as yours, if not even more
doesn’t say anything at first but will take you in his arms silently and make comforting sounds, rubbing your back up and down
his priority is making you feel better first, instead of bombarding you with questions about what happened.
When you’ve calmed down a little he’ll start wiping your tears and will give you a gentle smile
“You can talk about it whenever you’re ready, Y/N. In this world and the next, I’ll always be here by your side,”
Albedo
Offers you a handkerchief and stays by you until you’re ready to talk about it.
When he sees that you’re clumsily wiping your tears he takes the handkerchief back and does it for you, patting your cheeks dry while he has a hand cradling your cheek.
The look on his face is sullen and downcast, as if he’s guilty he wasn’t able to protect you from whatever it was that made you feel this way. 
He squeezes your hand and urges you to tell him what’s wrong.
“Strange. Tears are a normal human reaction to emotions...yet when I see yours, I can’t help but feel that they don’t belong on your features...”
Ayato
doesn’t look like he’s too bothered but is actually quite anxious inside. What happened? Did something transpire while he was away? Were you somehow affected by his status?
It comes with being busy all the time, he’s worried that he might not be taking care of you enough and seeing you cry hits hard for him.
hugs you protectively. One arm round your middle and the other gently pressing on the back of your head as you rest your face on his chest or the crook of his neck.
“I’m sorry, love. Never in your time with me do I wish to see tears of despair in your eyes... Please, if there’s something I can do, tell me,”
Bennett
panics 
flounders and doesn’t know what to do. The let-me-check-my-pockets-if-i-have-any-tissue-welp-no-I-don’t-so-I’ll-wave-my-hands-around-to-try-and-make-them-feel-better character.
Ends up awkwardly putting both his hands on your shoulders and giving you a forced smile.
“I-It’s alright. Everything will be fine. I promise! We’ll fix it together, okay?”
Chongyun
is stunned by your tears. This may sound weird but he thinks that something about them is beautiful, despite it being sad. Kind of reminds him of snow crystals.
Holds your hand and lets you cry, being careful of if your mood is getting worse or better
is worried, but is patient and will never rush you to ‘stop crying’
is not very confident that he can make you feel better but will definitely try his best
“...Y/N? If it’s okay...Can you tell me what happened? I... I just don’t like seeing you sad...”
Dainsleif
Your tears are literally precious to him. Doesn’t matter if it’s happy or sad tears, both makes him feel a bit of sadness. 
will let you curl up in his arms as he soothes you gently, occasionally wiping away tears that cascade down your cheeks.
will press some kisses on your forehead while waiting for you to mellow down.
Will look at you while wiping your tears and
“No one should ever make you feel this way, not me, nor anyone else... Tell me what happened, my star, and I assure you I’ll take the hurt away,”
Diluc
panic but on the inside. The instant ‘what happened?’ is written all over his face but doesn’t say it out loud immediately.
thinks you’re physically hurt, when he finds out you’re not, he’s even angrier cause something has upset you to the point of making you cry and he definitely wants to know what or who it is
cups your face in his hands and has a worried expression while watching your tears fall, trying to pat them dry gently.
is ready to go to war
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen? *sighs* I’m here, it’s alright. I’m not leaving...You’re my everything, do you understand that? If anything happens to you...”
Gorou
startled but is incredibly downcast when he realizes you’re crying and it shows with his ears flattened down and his tail unmoving.
Something about his instincts makes him press his forehead against yours and he closes his eyes while holding the two of you in position like that. He thinks it comforts him more than it comforts you, but he hopes it helps you too.
doesn’t quite know what to say, but will ask politely about your feelings.
“...Is everything okay? I-I’m not sure how to make things better but I’m always here to listen. I promise,”
Heizou
Wordlessly pulls you into a hug and rubs your back, hums a little tune or song to hopefully ease your crying.
already thinking about what could have happened while trying to comfort you. 
pulls away and gives exactly two kisses on your cheek. one on the right and one on the left then proceeds to pat your face dry.
“My charming Y/N, I’ve got a good idea of what might’ve happened...Hm? How did I figure it out so fast? *chuckles* You underestimate me, dear. Your utmost happiness is easily the most important job on my list,”
Itto
Freezes. Kind of doesn’t know what to do when he sees someone crying (though he has made a lot of kids cry before >_> it’s different when it’s you)
Will offer you material things to try and make you feel better. Candy. Lollipop. His onikabuto. 
When you tell him all you want is a hug he kind of melts on the inside but is also ridiculously proud.
Is still kind of concerned and is convinced someone has bullied you and will throw hands if that’s the case
“Well you’re in luck! I give the best hugs around here! Err... Only for you though. You sure you’re okay? Want me to go and teach ‘em a lesson?”
Kaeya
crestfallen. His usual grin has turned weak and he takes you by the hand, drags you over to the nearest chair or bed and pulls you onto his lap, cradling you in his arms as you cry.
validates your feelings and doesn’t make you feel stupid or weak for shedding tears. 
let’s you cry for as long as you want and lets you rest your head on his shoulder, no matter how damp it gets.
Mostly talks to himself, but kind of talks to you as well during your process of calming down.
“...What exactly has upset my snowflake, I wonder? Someone I have to talk to? Something I have to take care of? Anything to bring the smile back on your face, love,” 
Kazuha
takes you somewhere private or quiet. Comforts you first by sitting somewhere with you and letting you drape your legs over his lap while he cradles your upper half and shushes you gently.
Thinks you’re still incredibly attractive even when crying, but is also worried about your emotions.
Will talk to you about it and won’t push too much if you don’t feel like it yet.
While wiping your tears...
“Nothing will make me think any less of you, Y/N. This will pass, but whatever it might be, please let me do the honor of sharing your burdens with you.”
Razor
Instant hug and curls his body around you, literally in protection mode and not letting anyone else near you. 
Conceals you from the rest of the world until you’ve calmed down in his arms. 
He doesn’t look at your face because he’s on the lookout for anything or anyone who tries to approach you during a vulnerable time, but he knows you’ve calmed down when your breathing evens out
“...Y/N...will be okay...I will...protect,”
Scaramouche
freezes, but out of anger, not concern. Probably trying not to stomp out of there and demand his subordinates to tell him who made you cry. 
Silently goes towards you and remarks/mumbles about how ugly you look when you cry, but he’s also wiping your tears.
Then tilts your still damp face up to look him straight in his murderous eyes. immediately goes to worst case scenario.
“Stop crying already and tell me who I have to kill,”
Tartaglia
cold. but not towards you. Cold because he’s thinking about how he’s going to make the offender suffer.
Towards you, he’s gentle and whispers comfort in your ear. Telling you that he’s here now and he’ll make it all better, but only if you tell him what happened, and only if you point out the specific people who made you unhappy.
Showers you with kisses down your jaw and up again, then presses two last ones on both your eyelids.
“Now which unfortunate soul do I have to talk to and take care of to make things better, my love? Don’t be shy now, I’ll take care of it real quick,”
Thoma
concerned. the type to approach you, hug you, rest his head on top of yours and gently or softly cradle/sway you side by side
it’s like a little slow dance but with less movements, hoping that it gives you more comfort, like a rocking chair type of thing.
it hurts him to see you cry and you can tell from his scrunched up brows and heavy facial expression.
Looks as if he’s about to cry as well.
“Whatever you feel, I feel it deeply too. When you’re happy and when your face lights up, my heart is at ease. But...seeing you this way...I didn’t think it would hurt me this much,”
Venti
still has a positive streak to him, but is mindful of your feelings. 
The type to say things like you look better with a smile or that tears don’t suit you, or that he misses your smiling face but will also tell you that you still look charming, tears or not. That’s just how he sees you.
the type to squish your cheeks together and try to get a smile out of you
“Awe there it is. See? That smile’s much better!”
After he has cheered you up will ask you what it is that upset you and will tackle the problem with you.
“Hm... I see. In that case, you can’t do it alone! This is a job for the two of us. Let’s go and make things better, shall we?”
Xiao
shocked, then angry. He’s never seen you cry and you’re usually happy go lucky so when he sees you cry he thinks it’s a gravely serious thing.
despite that he still somehow doesn’t quite understand the purpose of tears. He knows what despair is but has the mindset that tears are not necessary, though he tries to understand how fragile humans are.
Will awkwardly stand in front of you while you cry, and later on will attempt to use one curled finger to brush away your cascading tears.
“...You humans...your resolves are too weak...too fragile, and yet...” 
will pause for a seconds to continue to observe you cry. He acknowledges the twisting feeling in his chest.
“...and yet why does it make me feel this way, watching you weep?”
Xingqiu
surprised. will ask you to sit down and go through it calmly, will offer to do something for you: brew you tea, read your favourite book aloud.
Will ask you what he can do to make you more comfortable because he’d rather ask than do the wrong thing.
Will sit by you and rub your head and silently observe your mood.
will clear his schedule if there was anything on it.
“...Are you feeling better, Y/N? Would you like to stay here or go somewhere else? Take as long as you want, I have all the time in the world for you,”
Zhongli
calm but concerned. You can tell that he’s thinking about what might have gone wrong. At the same time, he’s trying to comfort you. 
Ideally he’ll take you to bed and let you curl up against him while he rubs your back, letting you get all your emotions out before he starts asking you questions, though he already as a lot on his mind. 
He lets you play with his hair, cause he knows that’s a kind of comfort for you. 
Will lay with you in bed for a while, even after you’ve calmed down, just to give you time to think.
“...Beloved, whether or not it’s a joyous occasion or a sorrowful one, for as long as I live, my promise is to love you and to always be the pillar you can rely on. Today is no different. Would you like to talk about what happened?”
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honkytonk-hangman · 1 year
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Line of Sight
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Summary: You're almost certain that Jake Seresin could care less about you, that is, until you're in a tight spot and the one guy you assume will hang you out to dry, instead comes to your rescue.
Warnings: language, creepy club dudes, hangman being a little cold but actually he's just shyyyyyy
Notes: this is for @ussgallifrey who let me bang on about the feelings this man has given me <3 honestly this might turn into a mini-series because i havent even begun to resolve all my emotions about this whole vibe yet
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“Wait, is that Rooster?” you frown, trying to duck your head to see around the crowd of people at the club bar, your straw falling away from your lips as you do. “And Payback, and–” you cut yourself off, now certain of who and what you were seeing, and turn to look accusingly at your companions. Next to you, Phoenix follows your line of sight, but shrugs, seemingly unbothered about the impromptu appearance of the rest of Dagger Squad. Across from you, Halo winces guiltily, and lowers her brightly coloured cocktail away from her face.
“I may have mentioned our little soiree, and extended the invitation…” she admits, before hurriedly placing down her drink altogether and lifting her hands in a surrendering motion. “Look, in my defence, we’re all friends, and whatever you think about Hangman–”
“–It’s not what I think, Cal! It’s him who clearly doesn’t think much about me!” you stress, a little frustrated that your carefree girls night was now going to end up like all the other weekend nights you’ve had since befriending Dagger.
You loved Dagger, you really really did. They had welcomed you unofficially into the squad with open arms after Phoenix and Bob had adopted you one night at the Hard Deck. You’d been stood up, then dumped unceremoniously, and after crying off all your makeup in the bathroom, you’d been comforted by Nat, who had then introduced you to all her friends, all of whom seemed to dedicate the rest of their night to cheering you up. 
It was funny now to think that that was how this all started, but soon enough you were close with all of them. Well, almost all of them.
Hangman had been nice enough that first night, but after that it seemed as though he could care less about your presence at all. He wasn’t ever actively rude or mean to you, not at all, instead it was like you were just perpetually a stranger. Him snarking at you would be a step up, in your opinion. At least then you’d feel like he saw you as a friend, but as it stands now, his tight smiles and quiet chortles felt like a slap in the face compared to the mega-watt grins and regular peacockish behaviour he’d display with his other friends.
You hate yourself a little that it affects you so much. You know it shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. You liked Hangman. Although a little prideful and pricklish, you could see yourself getting along with him quite well, could exchange banter with him nicely, if he’d ever actually give you a chance. It certainly didn’t help that you weren’t immune to the way he looked, perfect in every single sense, smoulderingly hot even when he wasn’t trying. He was exactly your type, right down to a T, including, you suppose, the fact that he didn’t want you at all.
It had been bothering you more and more recently, and where once you would just shrug him off, now you realise, you’ve been actively avoiding hanging out with your friends, just to sidestep the kick in the guts that came every time he fixed you with a level, seemingly emotionless pity-smile. This week would mark one year since the night you’d been dumped and subsequently picked up again, and if you’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, you’d have agreed with Halo that you should have been celebrating with all your friends.
Phoenix easily waves down the boys, and soon enough your tall standing table is filled out with the rest of the team, and you let yourself relax for a moment as you accept several hugs, the longest of which is with Javy, who shakes you a little as he does, before he reaches for your drink and finishes it off in one.
“Happy one year, bay-bay!” he announces cheekily in the face of your protest, and you playfully swat him away. Coyote relents, but leans back just enough, with his mouth open, and you roll your eyes, before plucking the maraschino cherry from your now empty glass and placing it between his teeth.
The display is enough to make you laugh genuinely, and you watch with a far more relaxed and happy grin as Javy pushes back from the table, pointing at you, Phoenix and Halo.
“Another?” he asks, quickly gathering everyone’s orders and announcing the first round was on him as he disappears toward the bar. Unfortunately, that is when you realise his empty spot at the table is stepped into by someone else, and despite yourself, you can’t help but look.
If you hadn't known that he’d only just arrived, you might have fooled yourself into thinking Hangman been here all along, with how natural he looks leaning with one arm against the table, his eyes scanning the club behind you over your head as you take him in.
You refrain from cursing at just how good he looks in civvies. It was rare you’d see him in anything aside from either his flight suit or his tan uniform, and you’re fairly certain the only other time you had was at one of Dagger’s many beach parties, where he’d been barely dressed at all. Now though, Hangman is filling out a pair of dark wash jeans and a silk jade-green button down like nobody's business, his hair for once not slicked back and styled for work, and he has what you can only assume must be several days worth of stubble.
He looks goddamn good, and you almost vibrate all the way across the room because of it.
Bright green eyes suddenly lock on to yours, and you most hope he calls you out for staring, teases you relentlessly, but after a moment, he simply nods at you, and turns inward to the table.
“You look great,” he says simply, and after letting out a quiet sigh, you choose not to let this ruin your night.
“Thanks, so do you,” you reply, maybe a little sadder sounding than you intended. Hangman glances back over at you and your heart skips just a little when he lifts his chin at you.
“Same dress you were wearing the night that asshole dumped you, right?” His voice holds slightly more humorous inflection than usual and you hate yourself a little bit more for living for the crumbs he gives you.
“Yeah. figured it was thematic or whatever. Look at me now, and all that,” you wave a hand, and really try hard not to sound so glum this time, but you’re not sure it works. Hangman cocks his head, and you swear you see a playful glint spark in his eyes just as he opens his mouth, but unfortunately you never get to hear what he has to say, because Javy chooses that moment to reappear, placing down an armful of drinks and beers right between you.
With the reappearance of his friend, Hangman seems to go back to ignoring you, and you go back to pretending that it doesn’t bother you.
Five minutes ago you had been dancing wildly and laughing with Rooster and Phoenix, three drinks down and getting your giggle on. Now though, you’d managed to lose both your friends in the crowd, which had been okay at first, you weren’t exactly a wallflower and didn’t mind getting your flirt on with a stranger or two, but now, you were wishing hard that at any moment either Rooster or Phoenix might show back up again and save you.
While you weren’t a wallflower, you also weren’t anywhere near as cock-sure as Halo or Phoenix, you weren’t the type of girl who felt comfortable stamping on a creep’s foot and telling him to fuck off and that you weren’t interested.
Which is exactly what you wanted to do right now.
You were trying to be polite still, for some reason, but the drinks in your system prevent you from really reacting as necessary, even as you attempt to move the hands of the guy you're dancing with back to your hips and away from your ass.
“Hey, look, I’m going to get a drink!” you yell over the music, trying to extract yourself from this guy, but just as your luck would have it, he nods happily and makes to move with you, his hands still trying to feel you up.
You move anyway, hoping that at least you might be able to lose him in the crowd, but your new shadow seems determined to stick with you. You really don’t know at this point how to shake him, and as a last resort, you desperately begin scanning the edges of the crowd for any of your friends, so you can try and make eyes for them to bail you out.
Strangely, all your friends seem to have disappeared from the table you’d left them at, even Rooster and Phoenix are nowhere in sight, but you do catch sight of something familiar toward the bar. For once you don’t dread the sight of Hangman and his expressionless gaze, and for once, you attempt to maintain eye contact with him as he glances almost dismissively over at you.
Maybe it’s the look on your face that causes him to doubletake back at you when he briefly looks away, but whatever it is, you’re glad for it, because the next thing you know, the blond is frowning at you, his eyes flickering between you and your unwanted companion. You watch as he straightens up from leaning against the bar, his face filled with the kind of determination that you had only seen on him during the more heated rounds of pool at the Hard Deck.
You could almost let out a cry of joy when he pushes away from the bar and begins beelining towards you, seemingly making sure that he doesn’t lose sight of you even despite the throng of people that he has to weave in and out of. When he’s only a few metres away, his expression shifts from almost angry, into an easy cocky smile that he’s never directed toward you before. It nearly throws you off step, but even if it had, it wouldn’t have been an issue. In a few short strides, Hangman is in front of you, his arm smoothly slung around your shoulder and he uses it to tug you a few steps into his side, and away from your prior dance partner.
“There you are,” he says sweetly, actually sounding glad to see you for once. In your sheer relief at his rescue, you let your hand fall to his chest, your fingertips gliding over the soft silk of his shirt, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You blink up, mouth open to utter a soft thank you, and get ready to excuse yourself from the other man’s company, but a tugging at your hand cuts you off.
“Uh, I thought we were getting a drink,” the other guy interrupts, looking accusingly between you and Hangman. The blond barely even looks at him, an insult you know well, before he’s focused back on you, and arm around your shoulder pulling you even closer into him, and forcing your dance partner to release you.
“I’ll take it from here,” Hangman says to him, though he’s gazing at you, doing a damn convincing job of seeming lovesick. “You thirsty, sweetheart?” he adds as he begins to turn you, lead you away from the scene, and you find yourself embarrassingly speechless, only able to nod at for once being on the receiving end of Hangman’s notorious charm.
“Whatever, just so you know man, she didn’t say she was taken,” you hear from behind you. 
“She shouldn’t have to.” Hangman doesn’t even stop moving as he turns his head to shoot back, though his voice is filled with more annoyance than you’ve ever heard from him before. You could almost trick yourself into thinking he was actually mad on your behalf.
“Fucking slut.” The words are just loud enough for the both of you to hear, and even though you tense up at the accusation, you expect the both of you to keep moving, at least until you’re away from this guy. That doesn’t happen though. Hangman does stop this time, though unlike before, you don’t see a trace of anger on his face. Instead, he takes a step back toward the other man, his arm dropping from your shoulders to wrap snugly around your waist. He smiles wide and full, completely infuriatingly, and you see him size up the creep, look him deliberately up and down before he tips his head and opens his mouth.
“And yet, she’s still not going to fuck you,” he stays smiling, wide and cheshire-like. You feel yourself drop into a pool of complete and utter enamour with him, as at last he pulls you away again, leaving your unwanted partner behind, mouthing dumbly at the killer of a takedown he’d just endured, now totally forgotten by the both of you.
You’re still recovering from the utter annihilation when you finally reach the bar, and at last Hangman lets his hold on you drop, and he comes to stand next to you at the bar. He’s still grinning, though it looks like it's to himself, but it widens ever so slightly when he glances down at you while motioning for the bartender. He orders himself another beer, and the same cocktail Javy had stolen from you earlier before you’re finally able to get your thoughts straight again.
“Thanks for that,” you say, nodding towards the dance floor. Hangman looks almost surprised for a few seconds before he shrugs and pays the waiting barman.
“S’nothing.” he waves you off, but fixes you again with a slight frown moments later. “Are you alright? You looked pretty upset when you were trying to shake him.”
You think this might be the most genuine emotion the man has ever shown you, and you’re too far gone to question why, for now you simply want to bask in it.
“I’m no good at telling guys to piss off. Mostly they get the hint, but sometimes… that’s why I always stick with Phoenix or Halo,” you explain a little bashfully. You know how confrontational Hangman can be, you’d seen it for yourself tonight, so you know he likely sees your lack of assertiveness as some kind of weakness. Maybe that was why he didn’t like you?
Hangman frowns again, deeply this time, and hands you your drink. For a while he doesn't say anything, but it makes you anxious the way he doesn’t stop staring at you even as he takes a good long drink of his beer. After a moment he relaxes somewhat and glances away. You’re hoping maybe he’ll drop it, or maybe some of your friends will come along and spare you whatever comes next, but he doesn’t, and they don’t.
Hangman points back toward the dance floor with his beer hand and fixes you with a hard, intent stare.
“You feel like that again, you come find me, alright? I’ll tell them where they can go,” the blond tells you firmly, making you blink and splutter, but he holds up his hand and waves you off before you can deny him.
“Halo doesn’t always come out with us, and Phoenix and Rooster are currently eating face, so,” he takes half a step toward you and leans lower into your space, almost making you stumble back. “Next time,” he slings his arm across your shoulder again and grins almost maniacally. “Let Hangman sort them out for you.”
For the first time you really feel like perhaps Hangman is warming up to you. No longer were you feeding off the crumbs of attention, now you see the man revel in your sputtering embarrassment, fully teasing you like you’d wish he would for the past year. You were in his sights now, and you feel your whole body trill with satisfaction.
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