#AA!Syd

[asgard-segun-elcadejos]

Asgard Academy

Year 2: Part I

[ Index ]

xxxxxxxxx

Summer came and went, as seasons do. The six of them met over break, but one returned to the mountains during the last few weeks. The first day of Year 2, he took everyone by surprise, without meaning to.

One year ago, the kid from up north showed up with a slender build, great reflexes, and messy silvery hair. After twelve months of consistently gaining muscle through exercise (in class and in the karate club), another growth spurt over summer break, and a visit to the barbershop, the person who was in Fenrir Ylfingrsson’s seat looked little like what other students remembered of him.

“My, my! Who is this handsome hunk?” asked Karianne out loud, using her hand as a fan.

Fenrir gave her a nervous smile, not really looking into her eyes.

Syd slapped him in the back. “Were you this tall a few weeks back? You’re so much closer to Bud and me now!”

“Not to me, nuh-uh,” his twin replied right away.

“Don’t be stupid, we are the same height.”

It took Fenrir a moment to realize the lack of comment from Artica. She was looking at him with a thoughtful expression. This somehow filled him with immediate dread. “What, do I look weird?”

“Oh, no, sorry! I didn’t mean to stare. You look great, actually! That new hairstyle really suits you!”

Fenrir smiled with a bit of embarrassment. He had his hair trimmed and started combing it back. A rebellious lock wouldn't stay put, though. The sole victim of the one time he tried to trim his own bangs and chickened out after one cut. At the base of his neck, he left another lock of hair intact, curious to see how long it would be in a few months. He suddenly realized his gaze was no longer leveled with hers, and something else. “Oh, you cut your hair too?”

“Hm? No, not really,” Artica replied, touching her braid as if to check it was still there. Before, it reached her lower back, and now it ended a little higher.

“Do not be silly, dear,” Rúri intervened, standing right next to them. “She also had a growth spurt. I must admit I am a little jealous I did not, you have all grown so much taller than me.”

“Nonsense, darling, you are already the perfect height.” Syd scooped her up in a hug and kissed her.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Just like the year before, Freyja of Asgard entered the great hall and everyone gave her a deep bow. However, this time she was actually wearing the Blue uniform and an excited smile on her face, ready to finally be an Academy student. The start of the school year speech was delivered by Sigurd, who gave everyone a warm welcome, and encouraged Year 1 students to take part in the game scheduled after the ceremony.

Karianne eyed the newbies with interest. “You think Her Royal Highness will get hit?”

“Unlikely, my lady, not only because she is Hilda’s sister, but because of the kid that orbits her like an aggressive moon,” intervened the boy who had skipped a grade last year. His bright pink hair contrasted well with his electric green eyes.

The intervention startled the usual six for a second before Syd replied. “My lord, that is the heir to the Flaming Stallion, yes?”

“Indeed. We were classmates until last year.”

The younger twin nodded, watching as the other student who also skipped a grade last year approached the first and whispered something into his ear. They both snickered, laughing quietly at whatever it was they found amusing.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Syd saved them a seat near the center of the benches.

“Great work in the Archery Club’s exhibition! People are already talking about seeing the Hawkling in the tournament next spring.”

Artica gave him an embarrassed smirk. “I just hope they consider me for the sponsorship… Where’s Rúri?”

“Helping store all the Music club equipment away, she will be back shortly.”

“A shame she will miss the Fencing Club’s exhibition match. They seem to have several skilled members,” Karianne commented. Artica didn’t notice the flicker in Syd’s eyes at her words.

‘Skilled members’ was an understatement. The Black’s mind was blown away by the precision and agility displayed in each match (one per weapon). The winner of the foil match (nicknamed Green Knight due to the handkerchief wrapped around their arm) did so at such lightning speed, most didn't see what happened. Only four of the six Fencing Club members removed their helmets, but Green Knight was not among them before leaving to change back into school uniforms.

“Who is that person? Wow!” Artica muttered, still flabbergasted. “That’s some badass skill right there.”

“Very impressive indeed,” Syd agreed with a nod, and for whatever reason, a proud smile. “Oh, and here come our very own skilled members.”

Rúri finally showed up, just in time to see the Karate club prepare for their matches. Cheering loudly is not etiquette-appropriate, so Karianne had to settle with waving heavily towards them to catch Bud’s eye, and then sent a kiss his way.

“Corny,” Ruri whispered, and got a slap on the shoulder for her comment.

Bud was first and dealt his opponent such a punch to the solar plexus that it knocked the wind out of them. They surrendered immediately after.

Artica shook her head, smiling. “Always so rash. He’s so focused on winning he never actually lets any exhibition take place.”

“That is true in more ways than you think, sweetie.”

“I don’t wanna know right now, thanks.”

“Oh? But you might want to know later? Cheeky!” Karianne said and got a slap on the shoulder for her comment.

Fenrir was next, against Asgrim. The Black, taller and heavier than the Blue, smirked menacingly. He forgot, however, that Fenrir had arguably the fastest reflexes among club members and easily dodged his attacks. Asgrim soon realized the trick would be to follow Bud’s example and knock him out in one hit.

The redhead put all his weight behind his punch, right for the solar plexus. Fenrir leaned back and without skipping a beat, connected a well-placed high kick to the side of Asgrim’s head. It took a few moments for the Black to stumble forward and faint. Fenrir eased his fall and carried him over to the side.

“Good job,” Bud said, nodding.

“On not getting hit, right? This guy has one mean energy during matches, I don’t like it.”

The twin didn’t comment, unsure if Fenrir was aware of why Asgrim behaved like that. He pointed to the benches near the middle. “Wave or something. They’re cheering on your win, you know?”

Fenrir turned to see several people waving at him. A girl with copper curls, the boy who frequently had something to say… and the friends he made last year. Fenrir waved back and smiled sheepishly.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Artica couldn’t help feeling a little sad her seat was not next to Fenrir’s this year, but on the bright side, it was now next to Bud’s. They lowkey fist-bumped after taking their seats. Syd and Rúri were on the right, up front again, and Fenrir and Karianne on the last row. The guy from up north already missed his place by the window, wondering where his mind would wander to, now that he was in the middle of the row. To his left, unexpectedly, was Levina Sefidóttir, and to her side, Malik Havasson, both of whom had been in another class last year. After a while of chit chatting freely, Malik raised his voice.

"So, Miss Reynirdóttir, is it true you were bit by a dog?" he asked casually. Too casually.

Artica turned to him, not particularly bothered. "Yes, my lord, a little over a year ago."

"A terrifying experience, I'm sure," he said with solemn contempt, right before making a barking noise or two.

She was bothered now. Not as deeply as whatever happened last year, but cold sweat still went down Artica's spine, with only the slightest of flinches. Her lips were tight in an awkward expression.

"Indeed, my lord," she replied before stiffly turning around.

Malik then noticed there was a warning in Levina's olive eyes, and a threat in Fenrir's amber gaze.

"Please refrain from making that noise again, my lord," he said icily. It was echoed by the advertised murder intent in Karianne's stare.

Malik raised his eyebrows, unwilling to give in, but understanding the etiquette-approved response that was being asked of him. "My apologies, Miss Reynirdóttir, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. This will not happen again."

She briefly turned around to give him an understanding nod. Later, during lunch, he endured Levina's silent disapproval.

"What? I apologized, and that is that."

"Sometimes I get the feeling you do not understand how to court someone."

"Excuse me? It is crystal clear to me, thank you."

"As clear as a maelstrom, it seems. We are a whole year behind in sympathetic connection to him compared to those other five, and there is no way to catch up quickly. Lucky for us, romance does not prerequisite a sympathetic connection, so we can move forward boldly."

"Yes, so?"

"It is in our best interest to not generate antipathy. You and I are both aware he gets along with her spectacularly. Making her feel uneasy will only backfire on you. Let this morning be a lesson you will not forget."

"What, are you both friends now after the Jólablót activity?"

Levina rolled her eyes. "You are attracted to Fenrir, so focus on making him attracted to you. Do not focus on the wrong thing."

"... I appreciate your advice. I see this is how you have played from the start, yes?"

"Yes."

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

What possessed Asgrim, it is still unknown, but the moment after he playfully spanked Artica, she turned around immediately and grabbed him by the tie. Even though he was almost 20 cm taller, her grip got them on the same eye level instantly. In any other situation, this might have been welcomed, but the rage in her eyes gave Asgrim goosebumps of the really bad kind.

“That was unwelcomed, trashy, and disrespectful,” Artica hissed. “If you ever do that again, I’ll deck you in the teeth. Is that understood?”

The redheaded Black was honestly appalled. He’d never heard her speak with such an aggressive tone. The force with which she held onto his tie told him it was not an empty threat.

“Is that understood?” she repeated, and at his nervous nod, let him go. Artica didn’t spare him another glance before walking away, furious.

“I… didn’t think it would bother her?”

Asgrim looked over at Bud, who saw the whole thing. His arms were crossed over his chest, unimpressed. “You thought wrong, and you should apologize. Sooner rather than later, if you hope to avoid any losses.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Fenrir hung back at the library’s entrance like a nervous crow. Suddenly aware of what the date was, and what date was quickly approaching, he’d been looking for Artica all over, but after finally finding her, promptly stayed back. Artica was speaking with Asgrim on the bench under the large tree in the southern gardens. They both seemed tense, and awkward, so there was no way in the Nine Realms Fenrir would willingly interrupt.

After a while, they finally parted ways. Fenrir did his best to seem like he was just coming out of the library to meet her. “Hey… You okay?”

“I feel better now,” Artica replied, not without a hint of weariness. “That was not gonna work out so… it’s better to just rip the band aid off, y’know?”

The boy nodded in silence, unsure of what to say, but somehow deeply relieved. It made no sense, though. He wasn’t even part of the conversation, so why did he feel better now?

“Wanna get a milkshake and some pastries?”

Fenrir nodded again with an easy smile, completely forgetting why he’d been looking for her in the first place.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Are you dating the guy from up north?”

Artica almost spat her drink, laughing. “I’m not. Why’d you ask that?”

“You two’ve been going out an awful lot lately.”

She nodded in agreement. “Yeah, but they aren’t dates.”

“No?”

“I don’t think he wants to be more than friends.”

He finished his own drink with a suspicious look. “...Do you?”

There was a slight blush on her face. “I dunno. I enjoy Fenrir’s company, and he’s always been kind to me. It’s just that, dating a Blue…”

“What? I’m dating a Blue.”

“Yeah, but like it or not, you’re from a noble bloodline, and I’m not. It’ll be more hoops for me to jump through and it just feels like an enormous pain in the ass…”

Bud had to agree, just going to school and following their requirements was already weary. “Has he ever made you jump through hoops?”

“Not yet. Fenrir’s pretty chill about etiquette, almost like he wants to ditch it himself, but we don’t exist in a vacuum. He is still a noble…”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Embla peered out of the door, somewhat surprised. “Fenrir! Hello!”

“Good morning,” he replied. “Is Artica home?”

“Oh… No, sweetheart, she’s out on a hunting trip with Reynir. They’ll return tomorrow evening.”

The teenager was visibly disappointed. “Right, I understand.”

“Would you like to come in, or leave her a message?”

“N-no, it’s nothing. I wanted to grab a bite with her, since her birthday is on Wednesday and what not, but if she’s on a hunting trip, she’s already having a good time. Anyway, have a great day!”

Before Embla could even reply, Fenrir had already turned around and returned home. He let out a deep sigh as he took off his jacket to lay on the bed, pulling out a box from one of the pockets and sliding it into the drawer of the night table once again.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“So, uhm, if you guys aren’t busy on Thursday… would you like to have a small dinner at my house?”

“For your birthday, yes?” Karianne asked. “Anything we should bring?”

“Oh, no, if you can spare me a few hours of your time, that is more than enough for me,” Artica said, half-drifting into her stiff formal tone.

“Nonsense,” Rúri said to herself and then raised her voice. “I’ll make you a birthday cake, sweetie, my personal recipe.”

“Uhh~,” Syd cut in. “When she says ‘personal recipe’, you’re in for a treat.”

“Uhm, but-”

“I will get her the fanciest dress,” Karianne said to herself with gleaming eyes. “One visit to the Street Market will do.”

“I will go with you,” the younger twin said immediately.

“Hah! Fools, I got her gift months ago!” Bud declared, victorious.

Artica was making hand gestures. “That’s not necessary, please don’t worry about it.”

Rúri held her right hand. “Dear, let us pamper you, to compensate for last year.”

“Hm? There is nothing for you to compensate for.”

“Yes, there is. Last year your eye was still healing, and a few distasteful things happened, so this year we will compensate.”

“That makes no sense! Bud, help me out!”

“To be honest, I agree,” The older twin looked at her with a sparkle in his eyes. “So, we’re all going, right?”

Three of them confirmed right away. Bud got behind Fenrir, who had his headphones on, and shook him by the shoulders. “What about you? You’re coming too, right?”

Fenrir heard the entire conversation, as he never bothered to push play in his music player, and felt his entire body tense up as all eyes (silver included) were on him. This was the perfect excuse to give Artica the gloves and for it to not seem like an isolated gesture, but he suddenly felt very nervous about giving her that present in front of everyone else.

He cleared his throat and decided to play dumb. “Where?”

“To Artica’s birthday dinner on Thursday, honey, keep up,” Karianne summarized, snapping her fingers. “Get her a nice present.”

“It’s not necessary,” Artica intervened, this time with less fumbling. “I can’t stop any of you from getting me something-”

“Indeed, you cannot,” Syd agreed with a smile.

“-but don’t go overboard with it. I’m a simple person, anything simple will do.”

“But I got you an elephant!”

While Bud was busy teasing her even further, Fenrir quietly made a mental note of what everyone had already said they would get her and decided to look for something else later. Surely, there would be another time to give her the gloves.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Karianne gave her a beautiful, trendy peach-colored coat. Syd a pair of fashionable ankle-high leather boots. Aside from her delicious homemade cake, Rúri also gifted her with a stylish wristwatch. Bud, looking very smug, gave her a new quiver in her favorite color. Last, but not least, Fenrir's gift was a somewhat heavy box wrapped in simple, but colorful paper.

They all waited quietly while she unwrapped the last gift; it was a set of seven books, all new and from the same edition. Artica's eyes lit up at once.

"You don't have to read the mismatched ones from the tiny bookstore anymore… and this one has the final book too," Fenrir explained quietly, painfully aware of everyone's eyes on him.

She pulled the seventh book out and held it like it was made of gold. "I'll finally know how it ends!"

Her smile warmed Fenrir's chest, and he couldn't help smiling back. Syd, Rúri, and Karianne suddenly became aware of what Bud had already known for months.

Everyone crowded next to her and cheered. "Happy birthday, Artica!"

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Fenrir suddenly found himself back at the theater where the Asgardian Symphonic Orchestra was playing a selection of European Baroque masterpieces. He didn’t know which ones, but that’s what the pamphlet Levina gave him earlier said. She was completely enthralled by the performances but seemed to glance his way every now and then. During each of them, a group of actors would perform an original, short play inspired by the music. There were no dialogues, so spectators were encouraged to come up with an interpretation as the show progressed.

This had worked wonders for Fenrir, whose mind always wandered freely when listening to music without lyrics. He suppressed a chuckle when he remembered Artica saying she also liked music without lyrics, but when she shared her earphone, it turned out to be techno.

Now that he thought about it, that whole conversation was probably the reason why Levina had invited him to this event. It certainly included music without lyrics, though not in a way he had experienced before. No complaints, though. Fenrir had a fantastic time reimagining old fairy tales with the orchestra as soundtrack.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“This is exasperating,” Karianne hissed, looking at Fenrir and Artica playing a game together at the arcade.

The other three looked at each other knowingly. Syd shrugged, smiling. “Right? I think they would make a very cute couple.”

“Maybe we should help them out a bit,” Rúri suggested with a hand gesture.

Bud slammed his drink on the table harder than he intended. “No! They must do this themselves, don’t intervene.”

“Why are you so defensive about it?” his partner inquired, noting how tense he was.

“For starters, Fenrir needs to learn how to communicate clearly with others by himself, without us humoring him.”

“And Artica?”

“She’s not a child, and this isn't her first time, she can make up her own mind.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow. “Very well, but if they approach me about this, I will encourage it. I think they complement each other well.”

“Agreed,” Karianne and Syd replied at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah, I think so too, but let them work it out themselves.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Regardless of what he said before, Bud realized his expectations had been a tad high. At least, regarding the guy from up north.

“Remember the first time we all went to the arcade, Syd, Artica, you, and me?”

“Yeah, fun day.”

“That’s hanging out. When there’s only two people, so they have a certain privacy, it’s usually a date.”

Fenrir stopped what he was doing and looked at him with a confused expression. “R-really?”

“Yeah. Karianne and I go on dates all the time. That’s why I thought you two were dating.”

“So, those classmates that invited me to hang out, only the two of us…?”

“Not all two-people hang outs are dates, obviously, but I’m pretty sure a few asked you out with that in mind.”

“I- Damn, I didn’t notice at all.”

“There were a few times when you kinda did the same thing with Artica after hanging out with someone else. Why was that?”

Fenrir rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “Uh… When I visited the Street Market with Levina, it all felt highly formal, almost like a chore, even though the place’s brimming with stuff to do. I invited Artica to go because at least she had a place she really wanted to visit, and it ended up being a really fun day overall so… Whenever I was invited to do something that seemed fun, but wasn’t, I asked myself if it would be more fun with her…”

Bud was slightly annoyed by that answer; he knew Fenrir was above average clueless, but now it felt like he was just an idiot. “Have you, by any chance, read The Descendants, by Kaui Hart Hemmings?”

“No, how is that related to the topic at hand?”

“Something you said reminded me of it (1), that’s all,” Bud covered his eyes in an irritated manner, taking a moment to brace himself. “Fenrir, do you like Artica?”

“Yeah, she’s very friendly.”

“No, not like that. Do you have feelings for her?”

Fenrir was caught off guard by his question. “Can you, uh, explain further?”

Bud sighed, now convinced his classmate was truly an idiot. “Do you find yourself thinking about Artica often? Does your heart skip a beat when she calls out your name? Have you gone out of your way to get stuff she might like, so you can surprise her later?”

That last question immediately caught his attention. The deerskin shooting gloves were still sitting in his drawer, waiting to be delivered. He lowered his eyes, now understanding why her going out with Asgrim had bothered him so much. “Yes, yes, and… yes…”

“Now you know, then.”

“What do you do when you realize such a thing?”

“You make a choice. Either pursue it and let those feelings reach that person or keep them and let them rot inside you. Neither option is wrong, it’s a matter of what you want to achieve.”

“And what happens if the feelings reach the other person, but they aren’t accepted?” Fenrir asked, noticing that old, horrible fear he had felt as a child creeping in the shadows.

“You cry a while, maybe vent out to someone else, take a deep breath, and move forward. I’m not gonna lie, Fenrir, rejection sucks hard, but it happens often enough.”

Fenrir felt he was going to cry right there. He knew rejection so well, so intimately, so deeply. The mere thought of someone like Artica, who he highly appreciated, making him feel it again almost broke his heart. “How can I know if she feels the same?”

“You ask her.”

“You’re her best friend; don’t you know already?”

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Making a move only when you’re sure to succeed is cowardly. You need to put your hand in the fire by your own choice. The same goes for Artica. Your hands will either meet in the middle or be burnt to cinders. In any case, you will have an answer, and can move forward from there.”

“You’re pretty good with words,” Fenrir said with a surprised look on his face. “Thanks for the insight. I’ll think about all this.”

“Good. Look, I know being homeschooled didn’t allow you much interaction with other people your age, so I’m willing to hear you out from time to time.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t consider Artica your only friend,” Bud said, clapping Fenrir’s back. “I won’t answer anything that I consider her private business, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help you organize your thoughts.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it! And I do… consider you a friend as well.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Fenrir was laying on his bed in the dark, looking at the ceiling.

How could he be so stupid? Of course those had been dates, it was so clear now that Bud had mentioned it. All to places where they could enjoy themselves, but with enough space for more private interaction. He felt guilty for being so oblivious to his classmates' feelings and intentions. They probably considered him an idiot, and they would be right.

What Artica personally thought about it bothered him the most. Maybe she too thought those were dates? If so, did she enjoy them as such? On the other hand, she might’ve just considered them as hanging out, like he did. Or worse, she went along out of pity, or concern some Blue backlash would go her way if she refused.

Fenrir turned to his side, reaching out for the gray hand-knitted scarf neatly folded on top of his nightstand. It still smelled like her, with that fruity perfume Artica always used. Fenrir never thought his feelings might get ahead of him; the whole thing was embarrassingly new, and he was not sure what to do.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Everything had to be perfect.

After failing to be able to wear one of Syd's suits (curse his chiseled muscles!), Lord Baldrek had one specially made for him. It was in light grays, and Lady Tilda gifted him golden cufflinks with the crest of the Viking Tiger to match. After all, should he decide to take part in their lifestyle more frequently, they would come in handy.

Today wasn't about that, though. Today Bud was attending a dinner at the Celestial Horses city manor to finally meet Lady Aldora, who had been in Belgium for the last eight months. Karianne's younger sister Famke hadn't concluded her exchange program yet, but their mother decided to visit Asgard for a few days to check on her other family members.

Bud looked in the mirror, nervously fumbling with his tie. Only when he felt Karianne's soft hands on his did his tremble diminish.

"I'm a tad nervous."

"Just a tad, darling?"

"Okay, a lot more than a tad."

Her hair was pinned in a high ponytail, letting her gorgeous black curls cascade down her back. Karianne's deep red cocktail dress hugged her body in a very flattering manner, even making her look taller. Or maybe it was just the high heels? Anyway, as usual, she looked lovely from top to bottom. Even their matching helix piercing, two rhombus-shaped jewels of moonstone and eudialyte, appeared to complete a look no one had considered until today.

“What if Lady Aldora doesn’t like me?”

“She is not the one dating you, dear, so there is no need to worry.”

Bud laughed nervously, feeling anything but cheery. “I don’t wanna make you look bad.”

“I cannot recall that happening before, so again, there is no need to worry. You were not this anxious when you met Father.”

“Actually, I was, but Lord Ulrich called me ‘Syd’ eight times in a row before getting it right, so I gladly let him feel all the pressure.”

Karianne closed her eyes, annoyed, after recalling how it went. “That man, I swear…!”

She tapped her wristwatch and took his hand the moment the doors to the dining hall opened for them. Karianne gave the first step and whispered as they walked. “I am proud of you, and proud to be your partner. Not because you are tall, handsome, strong, and from a noble bloodline, but because you are charming, caring, and say the lamest pick-up lines with absolute confidence.”

Bud felt his chest bubbling but couldn’t manage to reply. With a deep bow and a smile, Karianne cleared her throat. “Lord Ulrich and Lady Aldora from the Celestial Horses, may I introduce Bud, son of Sanfridd, from Eastern Asgard?”

It took him by surprise that she did not mention the Viking Tiger, but after seeing Lady Aldora curl her mouth into a small smile, and raise an inquisitive eyebrow, Bud felt much more confident. Certainly, this wasn’t about meeting a Lady, it was about meeting his partner’s mother.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

XXXX eyed the invitation suspiciously, over and over again.

It seemed legitimate; the boy did not have the means to falsify the crest ring of the Viking Tiger to seal the envelope, and in any case, was probably not bright enough to even think about it. On top of that, there were not one, but two invitations. One handed personally to him at school, and another delivered by mail directly to the manor. Both in the same handwriting, both with more or less the same message.

Behind his own back, Fenrir nervously fumbled with the end of his sleeves, going over Syd’s words in his head. Bud and Artica told me what happened last year. I got it all figured out. You do not have to worry about a thing. This is foolproof.

The thing was, Syd had never met XXXX, and didn’t really know the level of scheming viper he was dealing with. It would all boil down to how well Fenrir could keep his cool, and his wits, upon him.

“So, if I understand this correctly, the Viking Tiger’s heir is inviting you to celebrate his birthday at the family manor in Eastern Asgard, is that correct?”

“As stated on the invitation, yes.”

“And this celebration will be over several days, during winter break?”

“Indeed; it seems he was born on December 23rd, so that would explain the timeframe.”

“Why is this arriving now? It is the middle of October.”

“I do not have an answer for that,” Fenrir replied, and it was a half-truth. Syd’s plan was that, by inviting him with such an early notice, XXXX would be less likely to have an excuse to not let Fenrir go.

XXXX turned towards the window, pondering deeply. Relationships with other Houses were terribly delicate matters. Turning down an invitation like this without a legitimate reason would be seen as a faux pas. Making matters worse, the Viking Tiger enjoyed a highly respectable status, and a historic role as the Winged Crown’s left hand that went back for at least seven generations. To top it off, rumor had it that their heir was already in a relationship with the heir of the Guarding Swan, which meant another politically strong House was marginally involved. And to top that off, it was common knowledge the Heads of both Guarding Swan and Celestial Horses had been close for a long time.

He massaged his temples, feeling a slight headache. Taking everything into consideration, the answer was to simply allow the boy to go. The Viking Tiger would not take offense, and he wouldn’t have to deal with him for a whole week. Win-win situation. However, it was precisely because the boy seemed somewhat excited about it that XXXX felt the need to deny him this simple pleasure.

Decisions, decisions.

“Very well. You may attend this event.”

“Really?” Fenrir blurted out despite his own efforts. He did his best to regain composure at once. “I mean, this will prevent me from attending your yearly holiday dinner.”

Nailed it. Nailed it! XXXX didn’t expect him to be considerate towards his stupid, lame-ass dinner, yet voicing it out loud gave Fenrir the upper hand, etiquette-wise. That was usually XXXX’s move, but not today, sucker!

The man appeared to be thinking the exact same thing, as he slightly narrowed one eye in annoyance. XXXX signed the invitation addressed to the city manor without pleasure. “Due to these circumstances, you are excused from attending this year.”

Fenrir politely waited for XXXX to hand him both invitations and then excused himself out of the study. Only after carefully sliding them into the chest pocket of his fur-trimmed jacket and going all the way to the creek in the wilderness behind the family manor did he allow a sound to escape from him. A whistle, strong and loud, that summoned Ging shortly after. Fenrir trapped him in a tight hug and buried his face in Ging’s fur.

“I think I just got a well-deserved, early holiday present!”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Reynir struggled not to choke on his coffee after Embla read the invitation’s content. “You’re invited where?”

“The Viking Tiger family manor,” Embla repeated, somewhat dumbstruck herself. “In Eastern Asgard.”

“You know the one, Pa. With the gigantic courtyards and-”

“Of course I know which one!” he snapped, and immediately softened his tone. “I- I’m very aware, sweetheart. When is this again?”

Bud and Artica eyed each other discreetly. This was not the parent they expected to make a fuss about it. “December, for Bud’s birthday.”

“Phew, there’s still time,” the man let out a distressed sigh. “Alright, you two. Sit. We have a lot to talk about.”

“This has to be the first time we’re gonna get a lecture before fucking something up,” his daughter muttered, but fell silent at Embla’s threatening look.

Reynir ran his fingers through his hair before clearing his throat. “A city manor in Central Asgard is not the same as the family manor, wherever it may be. I need that to be absolutely clear. Everything in a family manor has been tweaked and tinkered with to give the family complete control over all that happens on their grounds. That goes from the staff to the actual buildings and gardens. Everything. I cannot stress this enough. All you say and do will be noted and promptly informed to the masters of the house.”

“Wh-why are you telling us this, Pa?”

“You two’ve never been to a place like that, not even the Academy works on that level. Some previous jobs have gotten me in these family manors once or twice. Keep your guard up; act and speak like everything will be reported back to Princess Hilda herself. Nobles can be capricious, and it worries me more that it’s the Viking Tiger.”

“No need to worry about that, old man, I’m their precious older twin son now, aren’t I? Can’t do shit to me, and I won’t let them do shit to her either.”

“Wrong!” Reynir exclaimed, poking the boy in the chest. “You might be their new ‘young master’, but you’re a stranger to them. The Lord and Lady can say whatever they want, the staff will proceed as they’ve always done, keeping the House’s best interest in mind. If, for whatever reason, they believe you’re a threat to your twin, they will act accordingly.”

Both teenagers looked very apprehensive now. “I-I understand, Pa. I’ll make sure not to do anything stupid that would put the family dignity down.”

“That’s the least of my worries, sweetheart. I-”

Embla poured more coffee into her husband’s cup and then hugged the kids. “This isn’t about family dignity. You two are barely seventeen, and still have a lot of situations to experience, good and bad. The issue here is that one bad experience with a noble tends to have long-term consequences…”

Reynir sipped his coffee with a frown, staring out the window. “I have a bad feeling about you going there by yourselves…”

“I can help with that!” Sannfrid’s husky voice interrupted as he emerged from the living room.

“Sorry, Dad, did we wake you?”

“Nah, I shouldn’t be napping but sometimes I still feel so tired…”

Embla also poured him a cup of coffee and pulled a chair so he could sit down. “Not a problem, Sannfrid. You were saying?”

“Oh, yeah,” he mumbled, pulling something out of his back pocket.

Bud snatched it so fast, the others were barely able to register the broken wax seal. “You got an invitation too?”

“Well, it’s for your birthday, y’know? Your- The Lord and Lady of the Viking Tiger kindly invited me to join the celebration.”

All eyes drifted back to Reynir, who seemed to be rearranging his thoughts at light speed. Even if Sannfrid had never been to a noble family manor before (to Reynir’s knowledge at least), he had some leverage as the man who raised Bud like his own son. That, and he also cared deeply about both kids, so would intervene on their behalf without a second thought. A quick glance at their faces made it clear this was the best compromise they would ever get.

“If you have no issue with going, I’d greatly appreciate a set of familiar eyes watching their backs, old friend.”

“Do you have an issue with me going?” Sannfrid asked Bud, somewhat sheepishly.

“What? No! It’d feel kinda awkward celebrating with a bunch of strangers aside from my friends, but you’ve been there for all my birthdays, Dad. I wouldn’t want you to miss this one either!”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

The moment he saw Artica in the locker room, he turned around and started to panic. “No. No, no, no. You give me anxiety and I can’t be anxious before a match.”

Fenrir had intended to mutter that to himself but said it quite loud instead. The smile on her face faltered, and a tiny sting hit her chest. When he turned back to her, he realized Artica was already gone. Bud approached him with a groan, slapping the back of his neck.

“’You give me anxiety?’ Are you fucking stupid?”

“Yes, among other things,” he replied hopelessly.

Bud let out an annoyed sigh. “Ever since our conversation the other day, you get all jumpy around her. That won’t help. Nothing’s changed yet, there’s no reason for you to panic.”

“Everything’s changed and will continue to change. I have every reason to panic!”

The Black let out another sigh and then gently patted Fenrir’s head in what felt like a familial gesture. Fenrir wouldn’t know, this was the first time it had happened to him. 

“Just… breathe, ok? That’s true, but not in the alarming way you think. You should also-“

“Apologize, immediately, I know.”

“Well, not immediately since the match is about to start, but sooner would be better, yes.”

Bud ran his fingers through his own hair. "The first one was too self-centered, the second one too self-confident, and the third one too self-conscious. Sometimes I think it would just be better to date her myself."

Fenrir felt that in his core. There was no world out there in which he could match Bud's charisma. The Black, who had meant it as a light-hearted comment, cleared his throat.

"But it's too late for that now, isn't it? I'm already under someone else's spell, and I don't want out, so you better get your shit together.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

"I was nervous because it was my first match against someone from another school so seeing you reminded me everyone was counting on me to win that day to keep our place at the top, but I don't do well with crowds like that and I just wished they would've put Syd instead, y’know? But what I'm really trying to make crystal clear is that I'm sorry for saying it like that. You don't give me anxiety, I give me anxiety, and I understand you were there to encourage me, and I fucked up, so again I'm really sorry."

Artica stood there in silence for a moment, shocked that Fenrir could compress so many words in a single breath, but then let out a relieved sigh. “I’m- Thanks for saying that. I was a little worried, to be honest… but I get what you’re saying. Living up to other people’s expectations can be weary. You did great, anyway! There was nothing for you to worry about.”

There was a lot for me to worry about, he thought to himself, because I said something stupid again and you felt bad due to it. Fenrir was grateful, though, that this had been resolved easily. He could no longer afford to blurt out every idiotic phrasing that came to mind. There had to be a conscious effort, a conscious willingness, to let his feelings reach out.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

She took a deep breath, trying to stay calmed. Ging walked around her, sniffing her clothes. Artica felt on the verge of falling into the void of panic once again, but this time, she had something to hold onto. Someone.

"How are you feeling?" Fenrir asked.

"I-I think…" the Black tried to say but could not go any further.

She was squeezing his hand hard, but Fenrir paid no mind. "Take your time."

Artica closed her eyes. Even in that creek, sitting between the bushes where no one could see them, she felt embarrassed. How could she not be able to go beyond two words? Fenrir had kindly agreed to help her overcome her uneasiness around dogs, with Ging's assistance, yet she did not feel she was improving at all.

Fenrir patiently waited for her grip to soften, but at the same time, didn’t want to let go himself. Distracted, he didn’t see Ging lick Artica's ear. She immediately inhaled sharply and after a few seconds, fainted. The boy barely managed to catch her before she hit the ground.

“Well, shit. Look at what you did!”

Ging lowered his ears.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

When Artica opened her eyes, she felt awfully confused. It took her a moment to remember what happened before everything went black. Her cheeks flushed when she realized she was lying against a tree trunk, covered with a very familiar fur-trimmed jacket. The silver gaze wandered a bit until it happened upon a pair of golden eyes shyly looking back at her.

Fenrir was sitting against another tree, several meters away. Next to him, Ging was also staring. The boy’s lips were tight. “I’m very sorry, he meant no harm, I swear, it’s just-”

Ging licked the boy’s left ear. Artica immediately touched her own out of reflex.

“The way you smell, it’s very nice…” he mumbled, immediately regretting it. “Ging likes it. He was just curious and-”

The expression on the girl’s face was difficult to interpret. Fenrir swallowed hard. “Would it be okay if we came a little bit closer?”

“We?” she echoed in a slightly uneasy tone.

“You can tell us when to stop.”

To his surprise, Artica allowed them to come quite close, just a few paces from where she was sitting. The girl stared into Ging’s piercing blue eyes. “Why did he lick your ear?”

“Oh, it’s just a thing he does when he…” Fenrir started to explain, realizing exactly at that moment that this was the first time Ging had ever done it to someone else. He’d never shown interest in interacting with anyone beside Fenrir before. “...likes you.”

“... Are you making this up?”

“Why would I? There’s absolutely no way for me to force him to do anything.”

There was a short silence. Artica gripped the jacket firmly, a slight blush on her cheeks. “Thank you. I can’t, for the life of me, approach Ging right now, but your words have given me the courage to try next time.”

Fenrir was so relieved to hear the implication of consent to another time together, even though today had been a massive fuck up, he barely contained himself. Asking Ging for some space with a whistle, he helped Artica stand up and encouraged her to wear the jacket, at least until they were back at the house. Once there, she returned it, and politely thanked him for everything.

The boy looked at her walking away until she was lost in the distance. “Next time…”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

"I… think I do like him," Artica said suddenly.

Bud put his greasy-ass burger down. "Even if he is a Blue?"

"Yeah… I’d be willing to… jump through some hoops."

"Great. When are you gonna tell'im?"

"You really think he’d be interested in me that way…?"

Her best friend almost choked on his drink. If you only knew. Bud found it slightly amusing, considering Artica was usually very perceptive. "Even if he didn’t, you should tell him. The only bad shot is the one you don't take, right?"

She nodded, unsure. In the past, it had not been much of a deal for her to express her interest, but after Thyrna dumped her, she had lost her footing. It’d been painful to realize the person she cared about didn't reciprocate on the same level.

Even now, it still hurt.

 XXXXXXXXX

(1) “That’s how you know you love someone, I guess, when you can’t experience anything without wishing the other person were there to see it, too.” The Descendants (2007).

#fic #AAAU #fenrir #artica #syd #bud #ruri #karianne #reynir #embla #sannfrid #ging #asgrim #AA!Fenrir #AA!Artica #AA!Bud #AA!Syd #AA!Karianne #AA!Ruri #scumbag10aniversario #scumbag10ocs #scumbag10AU #scumbag10Ships

[doedorothy]

salemm i love you but youre making me feel like shit 😭

#agh #im bpd too !!!!! please girlie the stuff ur saying abt syd is very hurtful #marisol my fav girl thank u for sticking up for me #marisol yuchengco #salem de la marnierre #jedidiah aa martin #sydney o sargent #SCREAMS #salemmm #ooooh. salems implying its just syds psychosis. goes insane

[silentglassbreak]

Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

!!!There is finally smut in this chapter!!!!

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery.

+It goes without saying, this is a work of fiction. All of my words are my own. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess

Part 5 - Bad Decisions

Three months and three days, since I had met Noah Sebastian. Since he had walked into my group, reserved and exhausted, ready for a change. Three months and one day since I had agreed to be his sponsor. Since I had taken on the role of maintaining his sanity and sobriety with him. Three months exactly since Noah kissed me, causing me to pull back on our relationship.

I had given myself a silent rule that I never told Noah: we did not meet in person, outside of group, unless it was dire. So far, we had not gotten to that point.

He called me often, needing support. We talked on the phone, sometimes for only a few minutes while he panicked, I calmed him down, and he focused on breathing. Sometimes, we talked for a long time. I suspected he called me at times, out of pure boredom.

Two weeks after his show in Hollywood, he finally told the members of the band that he had began AA. As I suspected, they were all very supportive, most notably, Nick Ruffilo, his best friend since childhood. He even brought Nick to our last 'Loved Ones' session, where we asked everyone to bring someone in their lives who supported their recovery. Some people only brought their sponsors, but some brought their husbands, wives. Girlfriends. I always brought Laura.

I met Nick that day. He was polite, had the most charming smile, and shook my hand respectfully.

"You're the famous Leena, huh?" Noah had been talking to Syd when Nick approached me.

"Famous?" I quirked my eyebrow. He smiled brightly.

"You've kept my boy straight for a whole month."

I nodded in understanding. As fate may have it, the day Nick came to group, was the same day Noah had earned his 30-day coin. He had earned himself a large round of applause, as well as his favorite flavor of cupcakes in class. Red velvet, cream cheese frosting, graham cracker dust. I'll never forget, I asked Laura to make them.

Nick cared deeply for Noah, I could see it. I knew the other members, Folio and Jolly, did as well, but I believed Nick was his best source of support.

I broached the subject with Noah about a week later of Nick being his sponsor. I saw the look on his face while he sipped on his coffee, group having just ended.

"Oh, I didn't even think about it." He was looking at the ground, something he regularly did when he was uncomfortable.

"I mean, it was just an idea?" I tried to stay warm, comforting. Noah didn't always go for that. He had his moments where he felt patronized, and preferred I be straight with him. Usually when he was in a bad mood.

"I could ask him, I guess." He still wouldn't look at me.

I sighed, quirking my lips in a smile. "You don't have to. I'm happy to keep being your sponsor, Noah."

He looked at me finally, through his lashes. "You just know how to pull me back from the brink. He doesn't."

I nodded in understanding. "Guess you're stuck with me then." I beamed at him, earning a smile back.

Today, Noah was earning his 90-day coin, right before he leaves for tour. He got to go first in group, discussing his experience through recovery. He also got his special cupcakes, Laura turning up special to deliver them by hand. He was like a kid in a candy store, nearly hopping up and down when she handed him his special cupcake, bigger than the rest. He was ever thankful that she was a talented baker, promising to bring him and the band cupcakes during their tour dates here in LA.

The band had added 17 additional tour dates, beginning the tour in the summer instead of fall. They would have three months off from June to September, and would head to Europe in December. The success of the band was exciting, and stressful all the same for Noah. I saw the toll it took.

Two weeks ago, he finally told his girlfriend about his recovery. We didn't talk about Lily often at all, but he definitely did not want to discuss that subject. I gathered that it did not go well. All I learned was that she told him she needed space, and backed out of tagging along on the first part of the tour with them. She promised to catch up in September.

I saw how this affected Noah, and his sad days had been more frequent lately. Seeing him happy to be receiving his coin was a relief.

"Can I make a request for my 90-day?" He sat in his regular chair, directly across the circle from me, his too-dark eyes on mine.

"Within reason." I responded with a suspicious grin.

"Can you tell me one thing about you that I don't already know?" Everyone in group looked directly to me, including our two newcomers. All eyes seemed confused. As was I.

"Like what?" I crossed my legs, trying to hide my uncomfortable posture.

"Anything."

I blinked, my head swirling. Something he didn't know? We had learned quite a bit about each other over the last three months. In group or on the phone, we had played twenty questions more than once.

"Well," I sighed, knowing that my confession would be news to everyone, as I never talked about it. "my sponsor is my Dad."

He looked taken back, not expecting that. "Really?"

I nodded coolly. "Yep. Since I got sober three years ago." I relaxed a bit in my chair. "He's the reason I got sober."

Noah sat back and folded his arms, intent on listening to me. He gestured for me to continue.

"At 25, I was set down the worst road. I had been actively drinking since I was 16, and really struggling since 18. I dropped out of college, went through job after job, ended up in jail a few times. And that's the mild stuff. I won't bore you all with the gruesome details." I glanced around the room. The only person who knew even half of my story was Abel, and he was unfortunately not here today, so I felt vulnerable.

"My mother was an alcoholic, who died when I was very young from her addictions." I could feel tears threatening to come to the surface. My throat was forming a lump I just couldn't swallow. "My Dad, who swore to never drink again after she died, decided that once I hit rock bottom, to take me to her gravesite."

I looked down at my hands, feeling my voice shake. "He had purchased a plot for me right next to her when I turned 21, because he swore I would be with her sooner rather than later."

One traitorous tear spilled down my cheek, and I wiped it away feverishly. "So I had him drive me to a meeting. He stayed with me. Came with me to every single one."

I laughed at the thought. "He would sit in the car and listen to Country music while he waited. And every time I fell off, he drove me right back. He's my rock. He's the reason I'm alive."

I was still looking at my hands when I heard the clapping. My head snapped up to see Noah, his hands clapping together before everyone else joined. It was a liberating moment, but I was still vulnerable.

I checked my watch, noticing that we were over on our time.

"Thank you, everyone." The applause died down. "I appreciate each and every one of you. Unfortunately, we've got to get out of here before Angie comes in and rips me a new one."

-

At home, Angel and I were curled up on the couch, enjoying our favorite movie (it was my favorite, so it was his favorite by default), Silent Hill. I was tossing him single popcorn kernels as I ate and watched intently.

"See, baby, this is the part where all of the piece of shit cultists get what they deserve!" He looked at me with his honey brown eyes, clearly understanding every word I said.

My ringtone went off, and I almost ignored it, because we were so close to the end, and figured the call could wait until after. That is, until I realized it was Noah's ringtone. I had switched his a while ago to a song by his own band, so I knew when it needed to be answered at any cost.

I rushed over to the kitchen counter, not even bothering to pause the movie.

"Hello?"

"I need a fucking drink, Leena." His voice was cracked, and sounded wet. Was he...crying?

"No, you don't." My immediate response anytime he said that.

"No Leena, I'm driving to a bar. I can't fucking do this."

The panic rose in my chest, threatening to spill in the form of vomit. No, not now. Not after we've worked this hard.

"Noah Sebastian, I will kick you out of group."

"Who fucking cares?" I scoffed.

"Uh, you do, apparently. You called me."

"Mostly just calling to let you know I'm a fucking failure. So, sorry to waste your time."

My mouth worked faster than I could stop it. "Come to my place."

He was quiet. "Nah, bar sounds better."

"Noah, come see me. Please. And if you still want a drink afterwards, then I won't stop you."

I could tell he was perusing this. "You don't ever see me outside of group, remember?"

"Well, fuck that for right now. Come see me."

He groaned. "Leena, it's midnight. You should be asleep."

"Yet, I'm awake. 3AM ice cream, remember?"

There was silence, only the sound of a blinker in the background.

"Where do you live?"

Without answering, I dropped him my location pin.

"Says I'm ten minutes away." I sighed a breath of relief.

"Door's unlocked."

-

Despite my telling him to come in, he knocked. Angel stood at attention, to which I instructed him to sit and stay. I opened the door to find a soaking wet Noah. I didn't even realize it was raining.

He looked awful. Clearly had been crying, his clothes soaked through from the storm. I grabbed his arm and hastily pulled him in to avoid any more weather getting hold of him.

"Jesus Christ, dude." He just stood in my doorway, staring at me.

A low growl left Angel, bringing our attention to him.

"Angel, come." Robotically, he came to me and I pointed to Noah. "Let him smell you. He's protection trained."

Noah raised a brow. "What kind of dog?"

"He's a mutt. Bluetick Hound and Husky. 90 pounds of death if he doesn't like you."

I saw Noah stiffen slightly as Angel sniffed his legs, shoes, and hands. Once he was satisfied that he was safe, Angel stepped back.

"Go to bed." I pointed to the room and he took off, following the command.

"Hm, good dog." Noah's tone was surprised.

"I live alone in LA, I've got to do something to protect myself."

He nodded and stepped onto the tile floor after me toward the hallway. I noticed how wet he was.

"Wait here. I'll get you some dry clothes."

He looked at me incredulously. "You think they'll fit?"

I rolled my eyes. "Wait here."

I returned two minutes later with a pair of men's sweats and a faded Disturbed t-shirt. "They're my brother's. I'm sure they'll fit."

He nodded in appreciation and I pointed to the bathroom.

He returned moments later, soaking clothes in hand. I walked over and grabbed them from him and walked further down the hall to my laundry room. Checking the many pockets on his pants, I threw his clothing in the dryer and started it.

Padding back into the living room, I waved him over to the couch. We both sat on opposite ends, me leaned back, pulling the throw over myself, him dropping his head into his hands.

"You want to talk about it?" He just shook his head. I pursed my lips. "You want to watch a movie?" He looked up at me from over his shoulder.

"Like what?"

I smiled, picking up my remote. "Well, I just finished Silent Hill, but I've got all the streaming networks, so I can get anything."

He furrowed his brows. "Silent Hill? Like, the game?"

My jaw dropped. "You've never seen the movie?"

He just shook his head. "Can't say I have."

"Well fuck, let me just restart it."

He snorted. "Didn't you just watch it?"

"It's my favorite movie, ever. I'll watch it again."

He sat up straight, then leaned his back on the couch. I reached behind me on the side table, grabbing another blanket and chucking it at him. He smiled a small, sad look at me, and unfolded it over his lap.

During the movie, Noah's demeanor loosened ever so subtly. He started with his back against the couch, arms in his lap, looking unamused. By the first call of the Darkness, he was leaning forward, paying closer attention. At the first sight of Pyramid Head, he was interested. And by the hospital scene, he was asking questions.

"I still don't understand, why does Sharon look like Alessa? And why did the little girl say she was burning?"

"Would you be patient?! We're literally getting to that part right now!" He shook his head and leaned back, crossing his legs underneath him and his body moved slightly closer to my legs that were outstretched on the area between us.

His leg bumped my foot, and he looked over, noticing I was glancing at him.

"Oh, my bad." He scooched back to his side, and I snickered.

"I'm not going to combust if you touch my foot Noah, it's no biggie."

He smirked, mischievously. "Well, in that case." He then stretched his giant self out across the couch, pulling my legs up over his legs. He nestled in, pulling the blanket up to his chest.

It was at this point that I actually noticed.

"Hold the fucking phone." I quickly paused the movie and his head snapped to me.

"What?"

"You cut your fucking hair?!" His hair was easily eight inches shorter, sitting just below his ears. How it took me this long to notice is beyond me.

He laughed nervously, and ran his hand through his locks. "Yeah, after group, I went and got it cut. Felt like I needed a change."

I smiled brightly, reaching over and tousling it. "I like it. It suits you."

He leaned back, his face appreciative.

I played the movie, and he was absolutely enamored. It was always fun watching someone experience this movie for the first time.

Once the credits began to play, his eyes were much brighter. "Are you tired?"

I shook my head. "Nah, not right now."

"Want to watch another one?"

I stood up. "Sure, but I've got to pee and grab a water bottle. You want one?"

He nodded, swiping the remote and scrolling through the networks to find another movie.

I called Angel to his bed in the living room, and took care of my business. When I returned, he had 13 Ghosts pulled up on the screen.

"Can we watch my favorite now?" I smirked.

"Absolutely, it is also one of my favorites."

He pressed play, and I walked past him, my thigh catching the edge of the couch, causing me to stumble toward the coffee table.

Before I could connect with the glass, his arm was around my arm, pulling me back toward the couch. I landed square in his lap. It took me a second to process. He smiled at me nervously.

"Sorry, didn't want you getting a concussion."

I slid off his lap, but was now seated closer to him, by side nearly pressed against his chest. He turned his attention back to the TV, throwing his blanket over the both of us casually.

I pulled my bare legs up under the blanket, now very aware that all I wore was a pair of too-short gym shorts, a plain white t-shirt, and socks. I was home alone earlier, in my defense. My knee was pressing into the side of his leg, but he didn't seem to notice.

His body radiated so much heat, I instinctively sunk down further under the blanket. His gargantuan arm was draped over the back of the couch, the back of my head pressed against it.

I let myself get into the movie for a while. We made it about half an hour in before I felt him shift. He stretched his legs in front of me, now in near full laying position. His arm tugged my shoulder and I looked at him.

His eyes were honest, or so it seemed. "It's just cuddling. I haven't had anyone to cuddle with in a while."

I pondered this for a moment. My brain screamed against it, told me it was wrong and I knew where this could go. But he was so warm. He was so comfortable. I slid down, stretching my legs over his, my chest laying on his. My face had nowhere to go but on his collarbone while I tried desperately to watch the television.

Something tugged at me, which I tried to ignore for a while. I couldn't for too long before I piped up.

"How would your girlfriend feel about us 'just cuddling'?"

I felt his chest still, his breathing stopped for a beat.

"She dumped me." I snapped my head up

"What?"

He sighed, not looking back at me. "Why do you think I needed a drink?"

"Oh, Noah." I moved to sit up, but his arm around my waist held me in place while he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Can we please just...not?" When he looked back at me, he had a single tear trying to escape from the corner of his eye.

"Okay." I softly responded and gently leaned back down. His arm secured me in place, while the movie continued to play.

About halfway through, I felt my eyelids getting heavy. His fingers that were holding my waist had been drawing small circles on my back for a few minutes, and I was fading quickly. The warmth, the comfort. He wasn't the only one who hadn't cuddled in a while.

"Are you asleep?"

This roused me. "Hmm? No. Just comfortable." My voice was raspy with sleep, my eyes only half open.

His chest shook with the rumble of a laugh. "You want me to head home?"

I slightly shook my head. "Warm." His hand rubbed up my arm now, coming to rest on the cap of my shoulder. I heard a low humming sound, and realized it was him, humming a tune that I couldn't place.

"It should be illegal to be able to sing that good." This made him snicker.

"Too bad, huh?" I sighed, relaxing. "Maybe if I wasn't so talented, you'd actually like me."

This made me slowly lift my head, narrowing my eyes at him. "You are an insufferable human Noah Sebastian." He smiled a goofy grin at me. "I am trying to relax, here."

His hand came up to brush my hair from my face, his eyes locked on my tired ones.

"You're really beautiful Mileena, you know that?"

I raised my eyebrows, my eyes getting wider. He didn't seem fazed, just studying my face.

"Well...thank you?"

His fingers twirled some stray bands of my hair while his eyes just would not leave mine.

"Would you hate me if I kissed you?"

My stomach bottomed out. I was awake. All the way awake, now. I sighed heavily.

"We can't do that, Noah."

He bit his bottom lip.

"Can't, or won't?"

"Both?"

I rolled onto my side then, slightly breaking the contact between us. He was sat with his head propped on the pillow at the end of the couch. He kept his arm on my waist, but raised himself up just enough to nearly tower over me.

"Would you tell me to stop again?"

He was testing me. I was going to fail if he didn't stop. He felt it.

"Probably."

"Would you make me leave?"

"Is this why you came over? Girlfriend dumps you, so you figure you'd come hook up with your sponsor?" Okay, maybe that came out a little sharper than I intended. But it needed to be said.

"I wasn't planning on coming here. I was set on the bar."

I sighed. He was right. He was on the brink, and I invited him in. Practically begged him.

"Noah, I just...we can't."

His hand reached up to cup the side of my neck, his eyes now fixated on my mouth. I caught the tip of his tongue dart out over his bottom lip.

"Would you make me leave?" He repeated his question.

I didn't answer him, I just stared. I couldn't hide the want on my face anymore. I could feel my eyes pleading with him to just do it. Just make the move, because I couldn't.

With the luckiest break I've had in a while, he read my thoughts, and dipped his face down to brush our lips together.

This was different. This wasn't hungry. It was a hot burn, slow and steady. His hand came up to brush against my face, pulling me just close enough for him to press his face closer, solidifying the kiss.

Once I had the nerve, I moved my lips against his, my body melting against him. We moved slowly, our tongues only trying to make short appearances to taste the other's lips. His kisses on my lips slowed, his hand running down the side of my body, stopping to rest on my hip. Noah's lips began to trail off of my mouth, moving down to my neck, leaving soft kisses over my throat, making my breathing stop altogether.

I'm not entirely sure how long we stayed this way, his lips leaving trails of warmth over my jaw, neck, and collarbone.

I finally reached for him, my arm searching for the hem of his shirt, slipping underneath. My fingers grazed his skin, feeling the solidity of his frame. I felt him breathe out a sigh when I began leaving kisses on his neck. I let the tip of my tongue trace his adam's apple, smiling when the grip on my hip tightened with a nip of his skin.

After he had been tormented enough, he slipped his arm around my waist, flipping to perch over me, laying me flat on my back.

The kiss that came now was burning, hungry, and wild. My fingers pulled at his shirt, lifting it until he had to sit up and pull it over his head.

He wasted no time coming back to attack my neck, nipping and biting carefully, but enough to have me whimpering. He slid one hand up my side, beneath my shirt, and grazed the side of my breast, waiting for a reaction. I arched my back, trying to beg for touch.

His fingers grabbed my entire breast with one hand, pinching my hard nipple and rolling it between his fingers. I gasped at this.

"Oh, Noah..." I heard him hum, a sign of approval.

My hands grabbed his hair, pulling him back to my face. I kissed him while he used his other hand to lift my shirt, exposing both breasts.

It took no time for him to work his way down, taking my nipple in his mouth, leaving me breathless. His tongue circled the hardened bud, driving me absolutely wild.

I could feel his excitement pressing into the inside of my thigh, so I squirmed, causing a friction I'm sure he noticed. I felt the growl more than heard it.

His hand slid up my thigh, stopping on the inside, just before the hem. I could feel myself shaking in anticipation. He hooked the edge of my shorts, and with no mercy, pulled them down viciously, exposing my plain black cotton panties.

His hand glided over my core, feeling how damp the fabric already was. I was breathing heavily, silently begging for more.

"Jesus Christ, Leena." His mouth reached down and kissed my breast again. "So fucking wet."

His words had my brain scrambling. I hadn't been intimate in so long.

His fingers traced over the wet spot, teasing me until I was sure I was going mad.

"Noah..." His eyes looked up to me, my left nipple glistening from his saliva. "Fucking please."

The smile on his face was so wicked, I swear I saw the devil behind it. And this was my one-way ticket to hell. At least it's warm there.

His fingers slipped under the fabric, running up and down over my slit, nearly hitting that one spot I needed.

"This? This is what you want?" His tone was deadly, which had me reeling even harder. I fucking needed him.

I could only nod wildly. His index finger slipped inside, curling at just the right angle, hitting the sweetest spot, I could've burst right then and there.

"That's it. Good girl." His words had me moaning softly, his fingers working me over. Noah continued this until I was nearly seeing stars, his thumb now rubbing circles over my clit. I was ready, so fucking ready, eyes shut tight, climbing the hill and about to fall over. Then it was gone.

My eyes burst open, nearly ready to complain before I felt his hands pulling my panties down, his hot breath just centimeters from my core.

"I can't tell you how many times I've thought about this, Leena. I'll bet you taste incredible." Breathing was out of the question. Air no longer existed.

And that was it, he was on me. His tongue lapping up my pussy, humming while I gripped his hair frantically.

"Holy fuck, Noah."

"That's it baby. Scream my name. Be good for me."

My brain was no longer firing on any cylinders. I was on another plane altogether.

His lips latched onto my sweet spot and sucked like his life depended on it.

"Noah, oh my god! Oh my god, I'm going to come." My back arched off the couch, and my vision went white.

"Noah, Noah, Noah!" My voice was going hoarse. My toes curled and I began to feel the overstimulation, my hips bucking against him.

His arms pinned my legs down, leaving me nowhere to go. I fought for purchase against his skin.

"Please, please I can't. I can't!" He finally released me, lapping at my inner thigh one more time, causing me to shiver.

He sat back, a satisfied grin on his face.

When I looked up at him, I could see the clear bulge in the sweats, and smiled my own wicked grin.

I saw the confusion on his face before I sat up, simultaneously pushing him back on the couch, ripping the front of the pants down. It came to my attention that he wasn't wearing any boxers, so his cock sprung free instantly.

His eyes were fixed on me while I sized up his length, trying to work out how I was going to swallow this damn thing.

I slid the tip of my tongue across the top, eliciting a hiss from his lips. He stared down at me, watching my every calculated move.

With no warning, I wrapped my lips around him, and took him as far down as my throat would allow.

"Oh, fuck..." His eyes went half-masked, his mouth falling open. "Do that again. Jesus Christ."

It didn't sound like a question, so I diligently obeyed. My throat gave out about halfway down his length, causing me to gag. His hand grabbed my hair, nails in my scalp, holding me there.

"Yeah, baby. That's it." He let my head up, saliva dripping from my lips. "You're so good, Leena. Such a good girl."

His hand pressed me back down gently until I had a good rhythm going, my head bobbing, eyes looking up at him.

"Fuck, girl, I'm not going to last like this." I hollowed my cheeks, increasing the suction, and his eyes bulged.

His head flew back, his chest heaving wildly. "Just like that, baby. Don't stop."

I obeyed, suddenly really enjoying the submissive role. His hand guided me faster until I felt him harden to nearly stone.

"I'm going to come, don't stop...fuck don't fucking stop baby."

I felt the first hot stream hit the back of my throat, and I relaxed, waiting for the rest before sucking just a second longer, listening to him hiss in response. I let him out of my mouth with a pop, smiling at him sheepishly when I sat up.

He laid there, eyes closed, hands on his chest, working to breathe.

It took a while, but he eventually opened his eyes. His smile was lazy, and he lifted an arm to pull me down, now laying on his chest again.

He reached behind me and flung the blanket over us, kicking his pants the rest of the way off, and looked down at me.

"We shouldn't have done that, huh?"

I blushed, nuzzling my nose into his neck to hide it as best as I could. "No, we shouldn't have."

He ran his hand up and down my arm, now turning his attention back to the movie that was still playing.

"We'll do better tomorrow." Was the last I heard before my eyes drifted closed.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #fanfic

[unlikelyjapan]

s2e3 rewatch notes

One more before the weekend...

"When I was a kid anything that would give me some type of excitement, or amusement or enjoyment would get fucked ... Sometimes they'd try too hard, or they'd make promises they weren't able to keep" - everything in Carmy's AA statement can be related to cooking, the restaurant, drawing, Claire - pretty much the sum of Carmy's parts now.

Second Carmy/Syd kitchen scene:

Carmy is always the first to ask about anyone's parents (but only to Syd) - just like he inquires about Syd's Dad, his first concern is to ask about Marcus' mom while they debate sending him to Copenhagen. Family and people, in general, are always at the forefront of his mind, while progression is always at the forefront of Syd's (even if she does genuinely cares and checks in, it's secondary)

Carmy's "I want to make a suggestion" to go out was so loaded - it was obviously a premeditated move that he wanted to do the food tour with Syd. "I think WE need to go out, and we need to try some stuff"

After he tells her he'll see her in an hour, Goodbye Girl by Squeeze starts playing, and the track ends as Tina realizes that Ebra isn't ever going to be by her side in class *dies twice*

Richie dropping off his daughter: I have a precocious 6-year-old daughter as well and.....they tried to squeeze way too many lines into Eva to advance Richie's storyline when it should have come via Tiff or something - I hate being a negative nelly, but this part is so botched/lifetime drama-y.

(His obvious tenderness is sweet though)

10:44am call with Claire: this is only 2ish hours after his AA talk - I guess the subject matter was resonating with him?

Her forcing the convo on how ingratiated she is with his family makes me throw up my hands and say "no wonder the guy had a fucking panic attack later!". I was just highlighting how in AA how his family tries too hard sometimes - this is a prime example with her "I know all the fuckin' Faks" jousting.

And my god, she knew he was about to tell her that he was busy today, and she claps back "can you not make this weird?" - it literally harkens back to his family's bullying and expectations that Carmy will pacify them. (I know she can't know all this, but damn)

This part of the conversation gets its own bullet point:

"You know, he [Fak] told me that you guys are really close and that he's your best friend" - I didn't realize the first go around how bold the attempt at enmeshment was. With Fishes as context, the toxicity levels in this conversation are off the rails.

Also, her demented smile when she says "really?" when he says "no...no, Fak's not my best friend" - aggghhhh!

"No, no. He is. He's probably my best friend"

What the hell is this? "That's interesting, to sit with, for you" with the continued weird little smile -this isn't flirting, this is her relishing in the fact that she can manipulate him.

Why didn't I clue into how caustically fucked this scene was the first time? I think I was so distracted by the whispy dialogue and cadence of the conversation that I actually blacked out of the dialogue. Thank goodness for subtitles, because this script is mildly psychotic to read.

I know Storer said that one of the themes of this season is "winning is losing" - Claire is definitely playing to win at all costs. Is s2e10 showing that she lost? Or am I sitting through this dialogue again next season? I NEED TO KNOW.

Anyways, Secret Teadrops by Martin Rev (google the lyrics) plays as sydney enters Kasama - God, the music suggests she was thrilled to be spending a day out of the usual context with Carmy, and her checking her phone constantly is killing me.

Twenty Five Miles by Edwin Starr starts playing at the start of the food montage, just as Sydney gets the text from Carmy that she'll be doing it alone.

"I've been walking for three days and two lonely nights, and you know that I'm mighty mad"

After the owner of Avec tells her that she needs a great partner above all else, the lyrics blare again with "although my feet are tired, I can't lose my stride" - she can't abandon faith in Carmy just yet.

After the Pelican meats scene where the butcher (I forget his name, sorry!) tells Syd that he and his wife lost their restaurant in Bucktown after a business partner cut and ran, the song again blares with "I'm SO tired, but I just can't lose my stride"

Syd starts to adjust her language to "I'm not exactly solo" in the next restaurant scene- ugh - painful.

Enter conversations about profit sharing. Naiya assumes that she and Carmy are INVOLVED involved, and when she finds out they're just "gentleman's agreement" partners, she basically tells her to watch her back. Syd registers the statement, but looks so dejected, like she knows she's on a fool's errand now.

The lyrics flare one last time simply with "I've got to walk on"

Cue Carmy's phone going to voicemail as she has the jitters on the loading dock. She looks so sad, but also resigned to her fate at this point.

Sydney calls Marcus right after trying to call Carmy looking for any kind of sign or reinforcement. We're at the triangle again, with Marcus interpreting it one way, and Syd....really not reading anything into it at all.

I feel like Fak making fun of Marcus for "looking forward' with that big, dumb smile on his face means he knows Marcus' affection for Sydney.... and I'm starting to realize all the plots I don't like are the result of Fak's intuition and/or meddling.

Syd awkwardly trying to poach BOH workers is adorably baller and shows how aggressive she is just now realizing she needs to become- and she's so terrible at it, and I love her.

Future Perfect by Duretti Column (what an awesome deep cut) playing - I love that this part of the montage is Syd diving deep into herself and her more analytically-bent creative process and fuck everyone else. It's just her carrying the creative load of the restaurant right now, but she's truly free.

Lyrics repeat "You tell me stories, you speak in pictures"

She's being absolutely present ("Don't live in the future") and letting the food and the city that birthed it speak to her honestly and it's just so beautiful. The old family pictures surface in her memory alongside the plates she's crafting - her own contribution to the chaos menu, her past and present combined, her future (The Bear) undetermined.

Back to The Bear with "Make You Happy" by Tommy McGee playing in the background - I feel like enough ink has been spilled on this scene, but honestly read the lyrics here - ack.

One small observation after Carmy says "I'll let you know" - in the background, Marcus looks completely defeated, Fak's suppressing a laugh or something, and we get Richie's "ooooooohhhhhhh!"while Carm gives him dagger eyes. Y'all....these are not great men.

Syd rightfully realizes she needs to get the fuck away from everyone in that instant if she's going to do anything productive with the inspiration she's culled from her day of exploration and calls in the favor from the kitchen. I love that it almost immediately cuts to her there with her emotional support spoon 🥺

The ravioli failure - i.e. the fantasy vision of the food she had on the plate during her journey day not matching the reality of what she can craft on her own = the fantasy vision of the restaurant/life she could craft with Carmy not matching the reality of what she can is forced to craft on her own.

Oof, taking a break for a few days now....

#the bear fx #the bear season 2 #the bear spoilers #the bear #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto

[violetpixiedust]

something sweet for sydcarmy that i couldn’t get out of my head

the rigid slope of his sun-kissed nose bloomed a vibrant scarlet as it brushed against the ebony complexion of her petal soft cheek. the delicate curvature of her face was reminiscent of the stained glass cherubs that danced across the evanescent sunlight when it seeped into his weekly aa meetings, undeniably gentle, radiant. honey-suckle curls drooped down to meet hip length braids, framing the divine structure of her body below him, laid atop his rustled sheets. the pair was askew, tangled, dewey with a veil of essence akin to the first morning fire ups at the bear. a husky moan left his cupid’s bow shaped lips, as manicured nails ran down the flushed expanse of muscle peaking through his rare pristine white tee. one calloused hand urgently pushed the hem of her tight red turtleneck up below her concealed mounds, fingers twitching against her unconsciously arched ribs. the other wandered below the little charcoal skirt that had taunted him endlessly during their menu experimentation in his minuscule kitchen that day. barely exposing a flash of ivory each time she whipped around to fetch a knife, paprika, salt, a clove of garlic that had ‘slipped’ off his counter top. a pretty little outfit he knew the woman in front of him wouldn’t be caught dead wearing around the likes of richie, marcus, gary, fak, even ebra- a soprano moan cut off his possessive train of thought, hyperactive mind practically melting into oblivion as his warm lips frantically kissed the exposed underside of her jaw, basking in her light scent of lavender soap and lilies. desperate to claim, claim, claim-

“carmy-“ his denim clad hips unconsciously ground down into hers at the crack of her voice, the sound of his name leaving her mouth like a prayer. the ribbons of their desperate moans intertwined in spite of the ache that pounded down the doors they had once desperately attempted to seal shut.

“syd. oh fuck. fuck! please-“ the wetness that had previously concealed his hazy cobalt gaze trickled down his freckled cheeks, staccato groans swallowed by her plump pout that had been decorated with brunette lip gloss, now smeared across his cheek.

“c-an i-i take this off-?” carmen shuddered as she raked her nails through his dampening curls, waiting not a second after her confirmation to tug the poor excuse of a garment down her sinfully bare legs, leaving a burning trail in its wake. carmen felt his heartbeat pound in his ears, the once dreaded feeling akin to his panic attacks now fuelled by unbridled desire, urging him forward as he marvelled at the sight of the younger girl in front of him. shell shocked as the quick absence of her shirt revealed a lacy lingerie set, ivory, scraps of fabric reminiscent of lacy chef whites barely concealing the most intimate parts of her. transparent enough that he could make out the dusky shade of her nipples through the wispy fabric, her sticky mound. it tumbled out of his mouth before he had the chance to bite it back.

“god, i love you.” and he would have been mortified, hightailing it out of his own apartment to avoid the sight of his sous leaving the bed of her pathetic loser of a boss- had the girl not taken charge, straddling him in under a few moments, fingers encircling his golden chain to hold him steady, as her lips slammed against his in a teeth clashing kiss, a valiant effort in pushing down what apologies would have inevitably come up. her tongue was doused in lambrusco, spurring carmy on as his tattooed arms pulled her impossibly closer to him. desperate to memorize the scent of her, the silhouette of her, the taste of her, before he faced the consequences of his confession. he only went slack when she finally breathed shakily in his ear, hushed, as if she was telling him a secret, missing the glimmering onyx of her doe-eyes as they softened incredibly at the very sight of him.

“love you too, chef.”

#i haven’t been able to stop thinking of them since the first episode #they’re so perfectly imperfect #silly chefs #the bear fanfiction #the bear #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney #carmen x sydney #sydcarmy #sydcarmy smut #carmy berzatto #sydney amadu #carmy x sydney smut #carmy x sydney fluff #pixie’s works * ੈ✩‧₊˚

[preciouslandmermaid]

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - epilogue

Note:  We finally reach the end of this story. Thank you to everyone who read, liked, re-blogged, sent an ask, sent a reply, screamed in the tags, read on ao3, commented, kudos. I love you. This chapter is dedicated to you. I made a little playlist for the finale (found here on spotify) – and I admit, I listened obsessively to the final instrumental song during the last half of the chapter.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Content! (Explicit Language).

Synopsis: In the aftermath, you find the less jagged pieces of glass, and start to rebuild your life. The future sprawls outward, unknown, terrifying, and beautiful.

And in the end, Carmy asks you a single question.

(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)    

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy returned to the Beef after his impromptu AA meeting. He stopped short in the kitchen after seeing Tina with her arm around a familiar middle-aged woman with dark hair. Tina turned around with an encouraging smile.

“Your girlfriend sent her.” Tina explained, squeezing Dani’s shoulder.

“She’s…” Carmy caught his tongue between his teeth.

You were his girlfriend. You talked about it this morning. You wanted to go on dates, be sexually monogamous, and someday introduce him to your friends and family. That was serious. You were serious about him. Now, you offered Dani because you knew there was a chance Marcus wouldn’t come in today. This wasn’t a random act of kindness. Everything he knew about you; he didn’t consider you to be impulsive or irrational. You were committed and tenacious. And he liked that about you. You sent Dani for a reason. He understood the gesture. You were starting your apology.

“I’m going to fill in for Marcus.” Dani said. “Unless you don’t want me to, of course. She was adamant that I don’t overstay my welcome.”

Tina gasped. “We would love to have you here for the day, right Jeff?”

“Yeah, yeah. For sure.” Carmy nodded, distracted. He felt unglued. His eyes ached from holding back tears at the meeting. He had a hundred other things to handle including Syd’s prep.  He refastened his apron around his waist and popped a few chalky TUMS into his mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy took his phone out of his pocket, the sounds of the bachelor party raged behind him, and swiped open the waiting text message from you.

It read: I’m sorry. I won’t bother trying to explain myself, because I think it would just sound like a bunch of excuses and there’s no excuse for how I treated you. I was an asshole.

Followed by a second text: Come by later maybe? I’ll cook something other than toast and we can talk about it.

He texted you in return: Okay. Cicero’s friends are using the Beef for a bachelor party. It could be late.

Richie said, “fucking asshole.”

Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m standing right here doing nothing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He should’ve know this night wasn’t going to be peaceful. He had some good news with your text for reconciliation, and  the world had to kick him in the balls to keep the balance. Richie was in police custody. He hadn’t called you yet. He didn’t know how to have the conversation if Richie was about to be charged with manslaughter. He rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefingers as his migraine pounded his eyelids. Your contact photo smile at him from the screen. It was the group photo of your team at the North River Spring Festival.

He should get a better photo. He wanted a better photo. The desire struck him like a bolt of static energy jumping from the carpet to his socks. He started at the photo as if seeing it for the first time. It went beyond the picture, he realized. He wanted more time with you. He wanted to work through this weird obstacle so he could have new pictures, new memories, a future in whatever shape fit you both. All his anger from earlier seemed trivial now in the square of his blue-white screen and beneath the buzzing, harsh waiting room lights.

He pressed the call button on the screen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Through the help of therapy and planning with your insurance company, you managed to keep your anxiety under control. You folded more origami cranes, you went grocery shopping, you talked to several people (employees, lawyers, and insurance) in regard to your bakery. You waited to hear from Carmy. You talked about your relationship…a lot…to your therapist. Eventually, she called you out with a single question: “how much of this self-sabotage is because you don’t feel worthy of what Carmen is offering?”

She gently, but firmly, reminded you that conversations cannot be held if someone is running in the opposite direction. Once you got off the call, you texted Dani, and asked her to offer support for the Beef. It took a few hours before you gained the courage to text Carmy an apology. He deserved more than a text, but considering his business, you saved everything else for later.

Carmy’s contact lit up your screen. Your heart thudded painfully into your ribs. What if he didn’t accept your apology? What if he changed his mind and called it quits? You swallowed down your anxiety. You weren’t going to solve anything by spiraling. You inhaled deeply, grounding yourself, and answered the phone.

“H-hey.” He cleared his throat. Exhaustion laced his tone. Your skin prickled in response. You wished he was nearby, close enough to touch, and you imagined carding your fingers through his curls in an attempt to comfort and soothe him.

You curled your knees up toward your chest on your couch, “bachelor party go alright?”

“Not really.”

You sat in silence while Carmy spoke. You tugged at a loose fiber on the blanket and twisted it until it snapped. When Carmy finished, all you could manage was a soft and meaningful, “fuck.”

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“Well, I have to go to the police station in the morning to meet with the guy handling my case.” You began, stretching your legs out from underneath you, “I could come there tonight and keep you company? Have you – um – eaten?” You asked.

“No.” Your heart dropped. He coughed quickly, “I mean, no, I haven’t eaten. My stomach’s kinda fucked. It’s always fucked, honestly.”

“Alright, heard.” You wrinkled your nose, smiling. He chuckled softly, quietly, on the end of the line. The silence stretched like a dust filled horizon. You started grouping together your necessary things, your keys, your coat, your shoes, and wallet. There weren’t many restaurants open at this hour, but you had leftovers from your own dinner, and you packed those away into a plastic bag.

You said, “date night at the police station?”

“How memorable.” Carmy deadpanned. Yet you could hear the dry, sarcastic humor in his tone.

You and Carmy would be okay. You’d figure it out. You weren’t ready to give up. Not really. The chaos of your bakery momentarily fucked with your head, but it didn’t fuck with your heart. Your heart wanted Carmen Berzatto. You wanted to find the joy among the tragedy, the grief. You wanted to watch bad movies with him. You wanted to hold his hand in the grocery store. You wanted to smile at him from across the street with the knowledge that you’d see each other at night.

“Maybe we can borrow some of their handcuffs.” You teased while pulling your arms through your coat sleeves. Carmy made a strangled noise. You stifled your smile and your cheeks ached.

He said, “You have a way of gettin’ my mind off shit, I’ll give you that.”

“Happy to be of service.” You cradled your phone between your ear and shoulder, smiling, “I’m gonna head out. See you in a few.”

“Mhm. See you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bottle of ginger-ale hissed when you twisted the cap and passed it wordlessly to Carmy. His puzzled, blue eyes blinked owlishly at you. You resisted the urge to bop him on the nose with your index finger.  

“For your fucked stomach.” You explained before reaching into the plastic bag at your feet. You pushed an empty soda cup from Arby’s out of the way with your foot.

“Why do you have so many fucking fast-food cups?!”

“It’s Richie’s car.” Carmy said after taking a slow sip of ginger ale. You snapped upright and leveled him with a stare. No, no way. You twisted your spine, looking at the back seat, and yes—you recognized this upholstery. Beige. Boring. Kind of cramped. Your mouth gaped as horror and comprehension dawned.

“We fucked in Richie’s car?!” You shouted in alarm, your cheeks warm. “You said it was your car, Carmy! I explicitly remember you saying it was yours.”

Carmy laughed, pressing the back of his knuckles against his nostrils.

“A white lie.” He said, clearing his throat, “would you have fucked me if I said it was my employee’s car?”

“I don’t know!” Your laughter bubbled up at the absurdity of it. It loosened the tension inside your chest. Carmy laughed with you—his quieter, more subdued—and your soul brightened to hear it.

“Jesus Christ.” You rubbed a hand down the length of your face and returned your gaze to his. “Did you tell him?”

“What?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Fuck no.”

“Good.” You reached across the center console and held out your hand, “this secret dies with us.”

He took your hand, squeezing it, and his expression softened. He didn’t let go of your hand. His thumb rubbed across the bumps of your knuckles. Your body inclined closer as if pulled to him by an invisible string, and you sighed. Your foreheads touched his. The air blasting from the vents in the center dashboard tickled the side of your face. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to weep. The weight of everything that happened this morning pressed onto your lungs.

This was the scary part. Letting him in, letting see everything you feared, all your real and imagined worries, and panic.

He whispered, “you ready to talk about today?”

You said, “I’m sorry for bolting and pushing you away when you were just like…” You swallowed with some difficulty, “being a good person and trying to be a good partner to me. I – I just – I got lost inside my head. I’m sorry.”

He squeezed your fingers.

“I get it. I – uhm – one time, I bailed on Syd after asking her to implement a hierarchy. It was a shitty thing to do, but I did it, because I felt like the fucking building was on fire and if I stayed for another second I was gonna lose my mind.”

“God, we make quite the pair, don’t we?” You asked with a small, self-deprecating laugh.

“Yeah, yeah…” He smiled, fond and sincere. “We really do.”

You leaned back int your seat. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Your words were clumsy, but you managed to pull them like floss through your teeth. You told Carmy your fears, your worries, your hopes. You told him your suspicions about who might’ve sabotaged your bakery. You told him about your financial concerns because the money your grandfather provided was gone. You were too proud, too independent to ask your mom to help but there was a likely payout from the insurance company. However, the payout wouldn’t be immediate. And you needed to pay your employees. You were worried about them. They were your team. They needed you and the business to support themselves and their families.

Carmy ate the leftovers with container in his lap and listened. Several times, you worried you were talking in circles, confusing him, and you stopped to backtrack. You talked, and talked, until your throat was dry and sore.

You took a sip of his ginger ale and wrinkled your nose at the carbonation that tickled up your nose. He smiled, bashful, and turned his face away from yours. He stared through the windshield at the deserted, dark parking lot. You started cleaning and placing the Arby’s cups and napkins into your empty plastic bag.

“What are you doing?” Carmy asked, bemused.

You sighed, “when I’m anxious, I have to do stuff with my hands. It helps.”

Carmy reached over and covered his tattooed hand over yours. Your fingers twitched beneath his palm. Your head lifted, meeting his eyes, his face was painted in a hazy, orange glow from the streetlamps. His long, pretty eyelashes fluttered against his mole-dotted cheek.

Carmy was achingly beautiful and lovely. Artists should carve marble statues of his expressive face; they should paint Baroque oil portraits of him. He inclined forward and kissed you. His lips were soft, and chapped, and you sighed into his mouth. His tongue stroked languidly over yours. Your heart doubled, then tripled in size, and you interlocked your fingers between his. Sometimes you felt like this emotion between you and Carmy was delicate. Like a meringue or spun sugar. Other times, though, it felt supermassive and unshakable like the roots of a tree.

You chuckled suddenly against his mouth, remembering you were in Richie’s car, remembering the first time.

His other hand cupped your cheek, “What?” He mumbled onto your lips.

“I’m reminiscing.” You explained, nuzzling your face into his hand, lightly kissing the calloused mound of his palm. “I can’t believe the start of our relationship began in Richie’s car.”

Carmy exhaled shortly through his nostrils. “I don’t count that as the start.”

“Oh?”

The windshield softly pattered with fresh, slow raindrops. You tracked their movements down the glass, watching imaginary races, marveling at how the rain and light reflected onto Carmy’s contemplative face.

“The cupcakes.” He said, grazing his knuckles across your cheekbone, “I remember – uh – thinking you were the type of person who could do anything. I was – I am –impressed by you.”

“And that was the start of our relationship?”

He looked toward the pattering rooftop, “it was the start of something.” He said quietly. A warmth unfurled across your chest. You cradled his jaw between your hands. Your leg nudged over the empty soda cups in the holder. Wordlessly, between gentle kisses, you climbed into Carmy’s lap. He hummed from deep within his chest when you pushed your fingers through his greasy hair.

He kissed you slowly, tenderly, like you were two dancers learning the steps to a new song. There was no urgency to it. He exhaled heavily into your mouth and his hands held your face or your hips. The rain drummed against the roof in a staccato that mirrored your own rushing heartbeat.

You whispered, “are we going to be okay?”

His nose bumped yours. “Fuck if I know. Richie might go to jail.” He blinked up at you, “but, um, do you mean me and you?”

You nodded. Your future rolled out in a thousand, unique directions. As long as Carmy was next to you, on whatever path you were on, you figured you’d be alright. You would overcome this tragedy with your bakery. You’d stand by him in whatever happened with Richie. You’d swim through the waters of good days and bad ones – together.

“I – I think so.” He smiled tentatively. “I hope so. I’m not very good at this.”

Your throat tightened and prickled.  “Neither am I. We’ve established that.” You cleared your throat, your fingertips played with the curls at the nape of his neck, and your tongue poised at the back of your front teeth. You loved him. You knew it, in all its raw simplicity and perfection, you loved him. You blinked away the moisture in your eyes, your world soft and blurry.

He caught a tear on his thumb, “you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just relieved.” You admitted, shaking your head, “we should probably get back inside.”

“We should.” He agreed.  

You leaned back in the limited space; your spine nearly touched the steering wheel. Carmy watched you with amusement and fondness suffused within his blue eyes. He drew you close, letting you tuck your face into the crook of his shoulder, while his cheek leaned into your forehead. You felt his steady heartbeat beneath your palm.

Once you left the car, you would return to reality and all its problems and stress and heartache, and you suspected that Carmy wanted to linger here for a moment longer. And you weren’t going to deny him. You peered through the window. The rainfall blurred Chicago into a mix of dark blues and whites and nebulous red streaks of passing cars. It was surreal and otherworldly. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend that everything that happened this morning was a dream. You could start over, wake up in Carmy’s bed, and make him toast. But your phone lit up with a notification in the passenger seat and the illusion was shattered. You sighed, chastely kissed the hollow dip of Carmy’s throat and he murmured sleepily in response.

You said, “I can stay here if you need to go home and get some sleep.”

“Nah, no. No.” He rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm, “I’m good.”

You climbed from his lap and collected your phone. It was Ted. He was asking if he could send up a GoFundMe for the bakery repairs. You swallowed, texted him a reply, and pulled your coat over your head for a makeshift umbrella.

Carmy said your name. His brow furrowed like he was solving a complex math problem.

“Hm?” One of your hands held the door handle, the other your phone.

“There’s this dumb thing that Mikey…um…used to say to me when we were kids…” He began, “whenever I was scared, or nervous, or whatever…he’d – um – he’d say, ‘let it rip’.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You smiled at him. And it was like the sun shining through a snowstorm. Let it rip. The washed out, gray and blurry parking lot framed you in muted, orange light. Your coat draped lumpy over your head. He swallowed. Let it rip. He didn’t know what being in love felt like. He didn’t. He couldn’t. Right? He’s never dated. He’s never had an actual relationship. His heart is an idle muscle, fatigued and weak from years of disuse, from loving his brother who shunned and rejected him.

“I think that uh—” He licked his dry lips, “whatever happens with your bakery, I mean, you’re gonna be okay. You’re invincible.” And I love you. The worlds felt right. They felt true and honest.

“I’ll be here, you know? No matter what happens.” Because I love you. He couldn’t say it. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. Let it rip. Mikey’s words encouraged him, goaded him, urged him to be courageous. He rolled his lower lip between his teeth. I actually, really, love you.

Your expression softened, “Thanks, Carmy.”

You opened the car door and disappeared into the pouring rain toward the police station.  Carmy squeezed his hands around the steering wheel until his knuckles flushed white. He leaned his forehead against it and sighed. Love threatened to split him open. It threatened to pour out into everything he said, or did, as it perched—unspoken—between his teeth. He glanced to the empty ginger ale bottle and the organized trash pile. His heart squeezed as if in a vice. He pulled his collar up, tucking his neck into his shoulders like a turtle, and opened the car door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Carmy talked in low, intimate tones in the lobby. You talked about your pasts, school, accomplishments, and fond memories. He told you about the strange payments to KBL that Mikey made. You unintentionally avoided conversations about the future. It felt too unknown, too vague, with Richie’s conviction looming over your heads.

When you left him to find a bathroom, you noticed Richie standing by the police desk. He cradled the phone against his ear and spoke roughly, his eyes bright. You approached him. The phone clattered into the holder and Richie pinched the bridge of his nose.

Upon seeing you, he said, “Did they arrest you for tax evasion or some other rich person charge?”

“Mhm, yeah.” You leaned against the tall counter, searching his face. “You doing alright?”

“I’m fucking great.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. You grabbed a sticky note off the desk and wrote down a phone number. You hoped the guy would wake up, that Richie wouldn’t be charged with manslaughter, but you also wanted to prepare for every possibility. In this situation, you could help a little.

“This is my mom’s number. She runs a law firm. If you need like legal representation or whatever.”

Richie’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I’m flattered. But I don’t think I’m ready to be your stepdad.”

“Stop being a shithead.” You held the note out of reach, though you recognized his attempts at humor were his only defense. “I will eat this note and you’ll be stuck with some state-appointed bonehead with mustard stains on his suit.”

He sobered, “Alright, alright.” A beat. “I’m sorry. I appreciate the help. Okay? I do.”

You slid the note to him. He folded it and tucked it away into his track pants.

“You lookin’ out for me just cuz of you and Carmy or what?” He asked, avoiding your gaze.

You bounced the pen against your fingertips. “I think you’re alright, Richie.” You said. “I mean, you can be annoying, and rude, and brash—”

“Wow, those are all words I’d use to describe you.” Richie cut in.

You laughed, shaking your head, and tossed the pen aside. A police officer approached you, telling Richie he needed to go back to the holding cell, and offering to escort you to the lobby. But, before Richie walked away, he reached out and briefly—briefly—held your fingertips in his hand and squeezed them.

He said quickly, “Look after my cousin, yeah?” The officer nudged him with a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going! I’m going!” Richie threw his hands in the air. Your heart clenched as Richie turned the corner with the cop following him. There was nothing left to do but wait. You chewed the inside of your cheek and sulked back to the lobby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By dawn, Carmy fell asleep on your shoulder. You watched Chicago bleed with misty, orange light as the sun rose over the buildings. The storm passed and left everything damp and glossy. You leaned your cheek on the top of Carmy’s head. He stirred beneath you but did not wake.

A handful of hours passed before an officer approached you.

“The detective handling your case wants to see you.” They said.

You nodded. A sense of dread filled your stomach and clawed your throat. You could do this. You needed to do this. Carmy believed you were invincible. He believed you could bounce back from anything. You eased yourself slowly out of the chair, careful not to jostle Carmy, but he jumped awake with a startled gasp.

“Sorry, sorry,” you winced. “They want to see me now.”

“Oh.” He grumbled, his voice thick with sleep, and he blinked blearily. “D’you want me to come?”

You stared at him with your mouth softly agape. This is what a partnership was. It’s not being alone when the shit hits the fan, or when you need to pick up the pieces and rebuild. You were comfortable being on your own, being independent, and self-reliant. In fact, you prided yourself on it. But everything—your grandfather’s death, the bakery, your employees, your friendship with Carmy—it showed you how you could rely on others. You trusted him. If you turned away from him now, he wouldn’t hold a grudge against you.

But, you realized, you wanted him there. You would be more comforted by his presence than without it.

“Sure.” You responded thickly. “If you don’t mind.”

He shook his head and stood. Without thinking, you reached for his hand and grasped it tightly. Carmy said nothing. He didn’t let go. He held your hand through the tan and cream-colored hallways. He held it in the detective’s office. He squeezed your fingers when the detective said they pulled traffic photos. He said they found a match of the license plate of the car parked nearby that the assailant was recorded getting in and out of.

As the detective informed you of the license plate registration, your ears started to ring. You blinked furiously, trying to arrange his words, trying to make sense of everything, trying not to cry in front of this stranger.

“We’ve sent the report over to your insurance, they’ll be handling everything from here on out.” The detective said, “however, if you want to press charges, then we can start filling out that paperwork today.”

“Charges?” You repeated slowly.

“Depending on the damage your insurance company reports, the willful and intentional destruction of property is a felony.”

You swallowed. “I see.”

“Can we have a sec?” Carmy asked. The officer spared you a quick, assessing look and then nodded. The moment you heard the door click shut behind you, you collapsed, drawing yourself inward and weeping. Carmy’s arm encircled your shoulders, holding you, and the plastic arm of the chair dug into your ribs when you leaned into him.

He kissed your temple. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted, your words fragile and flimsy. “I need a minute.”

“Okay.” Carmy nodded, “okay.” He gently stroked his hand along your head to the back of your neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The broom scraped along the glass, tinkling when you scooped it into the pan, and you dropped it like snow into the large, black garbage bag. Your underarms and face dampened with sweat. You wiped some away your old t-shirt collar. Ted walked around the corner from the kitchen, red faced and smiling, holding a garbage bag in each hand. The tarp that covered the main window flapped noisily with every car that drove by or errant gust of wind.

“I don’t want mushrooms if we’re ordering pizza.” Leslie said while holding her phone and leaning against her broom. “I’m willing to go half mushroom, half no-mushroom.”

Dani asked, “How are you vegetarian and you don’t eat mushrooms?”

“It’s the texture!” Leslie said, grimacing. “Ted, back me up on this one.”

“I like mushrooms.” Said Ted.

You suggested, “We could get two pizzas.”

“and bring the extra slices across the street?” Dani asked knowingly, her face crinkled in a smile.

You pointed the dustpan at her. “I never said that.”

“If we get two pizzas, then we should get the one with the sausage chunks and spinach.” Ted said, “I love that one. It’s sooo greasy.”

You fished your cigarettes out of the back pocket of your jeans. “Order whatever.” You said, putting a cigarette between your lips, “Dani has my card.”

Their conversation about potential appetizers faded into the background noise as you stepped out of your destroyed bakery and into the Chicago sunshine. The sky was chlorine blue without a cloud in view. It was like the rain last night never happened. You lit your cigarette while walking toward the Beef. Carmy texted you about Richie’s release, saying they’d be open today and he’d take Dani’s help again if Marcus didn’t show.

You smoked half your cigarette and stubbed it out before entering through the backdoor. You were relieved to see Marcus and he offered you a brief, genuine smile. You sidled next to Carmy by the stove, the heavy and pungent scent of sauteed garlic and smoke in the air and settled your palm between his shoulder blades.

“Hey, what’re you making?”

“Spaghetti.” Carmy said while twisting the can opener. He dumped the sauce onto the pan. A weird, lumpy, and strange shape sat among the bright, red tomatoes. He scooped it up with his fingers, peeling away the plastic, and you watched with a furrowed brow.

Carmy met your eyes, then shouted in alarm and confusion, “Cousin!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One Month Later…

The sheets were  blessedly cool against your warm, sweaty back. The origami crane twirled faintly in the air, encouraged by Carmy’s fan, that oscillated and tickled your skin. A ribbon of sunlight poured through the curtains. Your bare chest heaved with each labored breath. Your skin tingled in the afterglow. Carmy pressed his lips between your eyebrows, your nose, and then to your mouth. He stretched out beside you, collecting you into his arms again, and kissed you slowly.

He always acted with urgency and demand in the kitchen. And outside the kitchen, he was restless. His leg bounced, his fingers tapped or tore through his hair. Yet, in this moment, of calm and quiet shared between only you—Carmy was unhurried. He took his time. He touched you until you came, he kissed you leisurely, he breathed your name shakily into your mouth. And when he buried his cock into you, you felt an unnerving yet pleasurable pressure in your chest. As if all the love you felt for him was trying to break free from your ribs.

His fingertips trailed down your spine. Each bump, each ridge, intimately known to him. He knew your body like a map. You sighed, content, and chuckled at the warmth that radiated from your heart.

“What?” He brushed your hair away from your face, “I’m not that funny, am I?”

“I’m laughing because I’m happy, you dummy.” You teased, “‘cause I love you.”

Your eyes widened in humiliating terror. The words had slipped free, unbidden, uncontrolled, like a wild animal that chewed through its leash. Carmy’s breath shuddered against your mouth. You resisted the temptation to wiggle out of his arms and escape to the bathroom door.

He replied, “Oh, good.” He cleared his throat.

You squeezed your eyes closed. You were mortified. You should tell him that it’s fine if he doesn’t feel the same—you don’t expect him to. The love offered was unconditional. He’s got a hundred, million things on his plate with franchising the Bear and establishing himself and working on his mental health. You’d love him even if he broke up with you tomorrow. You’d still love him, want him to be happy, and healthy, and whole.

“I – um – I love you, too.” He said quietly and carefully, like the words themselves were fragile, “I’m not just saying that because you said it first.”

You cautiously opened your eyes to measure his expression. His face was ruddy, flushed, damp curls falling into his forehead and obscuring his pretty blue eyes that were nearly swallowed whole by his pupils. In all your time of knowing him, Carmy wasn’t the type of person to lie.

“I really, really do love you.” He licked his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Y-yeah.” He smiled, lopsided and warm. “I do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four Years Later…

Carmy watched as you tossed another stone into Lake Michigan. All your attempts to skip a stone had thus far failed despite his teaching. The stone splashed and created a deep, bellowing ‘gur-glup’ noise as it dropped through the water and sank. You crouched to find another rock. The wind tugged at your long coat, trying to wrench you away, and whisk you into the sky like a strange fairytale.

“How about this one?” You asked, holding up the flat stone, and wiggling it between your fingers. The warm sunlight caught the angles of your face. His breath snagged inside his throat.

“Looks alright.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His fingertips touched something warm and velvety-soft and hidden. His heart stuttered nervously. He’s been carrying this thing around for weeks. Yesterday morning, over breakfast in your shared apartment, he thought of asking you from across the table. You were so lovely, and beautiful, wearing your pajamas and slicing strawberries for your waffles.

Two weeks ago, he asked Sugar for advice. All she said was, ‘you better ask before she does.’ Then, kindlier she said, ‘the location doesn’t matter so much, Carmy. You’re over thinking it. Just ask her.’

He was afraid, he realized. He wasn’t afraid you’d say no. He was certain you’d say yes. But he was afraid of messing it up—of being a bad fiancé, or husband, instead of boyfriend. He was afraid that if things in his life went too well, then he’d be punished for it. He couldn’t be too happy. It wasn’t allowed. His therapist told him this was anxiety and gave him some worksheets to do at home.

You whirled around, smiling, as your stone skipped two splashes before sinking. “A new record!”

His lungs felt as if they might capsize under the weight and glory of being in love with you. His fingers curled around the box inside his pocket. Let it rip. You were smiling at him. He stopped thinking. He dropped to one knee.

“Holy shit!” Your hand slapped over your mouth and your eyes glimmered with unshed tears. He bumbled out your name, blushing hard, and his fingers trembled and nearly dropped the box. He stuttered through The Important Question.

“You’re my partner in every other sense of the word,” He said, “so…I guess…I figured we might as well get the tax benefits too.”

“In it for the money, huh?” You laughed, wiping your tear-streaked face with your palms.

“Yeah, you know me…” Carmy swallowed, “focused on the business side of things and all that.”

He wondered if the ring was too shabby, or not your style, or too gaudy or a thousand other things. He wondered all of it as you lowered onto your knees in front of him.

You reached into your coat and held aloft a wooden box. “You weren’t the only one thinking about the future.”

He blinked in surprise. He thought Sugar was joking. The wooden box clicked open to reveal a simple, golden ring. He imagined himself wearing it, seeing it whenever he chopped vegetables, or washed his hands, and he was overcome with a deep, deep sense of joy and pleasure. Everyone would know he was loved. They would that he was spoken for and that he was tied to the most incredible and brilliant woman he’s ever met.

He suddenly visualized his life sprawling out in every direction like the roots of a giant tree. He leaned his forehead to yours, smiling, and thought of Mikey. A bittersweet sense of melancholy gripped his heart.

I love you. Let it rip.

The sunlight broke through the clouds. The lake glittered like a thousand diamonds were strewn across its surface. He held your smiling and tear-damp face between his hands. This was only the beginning. The start of the next chapter of his life with you. And whatever happened along the way, you would face it together, hand-in-hand, as always.  

“So, what do you say, Carmen Berzatto? We figured out dating, and living together, should we figure out being married next?” You asked with a small, flustered grin.

“Absolutely.” His hands slid and cupped the back of your neck and pulled you toward him. He kissed you. And he was scared, terrified—even, but it was the good kind. The kind of scared that made your stomach flutter before the drop of a rollercoaster. He smiled, then laughed, against your lips. His eyes burned with tears as you slid the engagement ring onto your finger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus Author’s Note:  I decided to leave it open-ended in terms of Who Trashed the Bakery. Was it dad, wishing for revenge? Was it Delilah, wanting to get rid of her ambitious competition? Or was it someone your grandfather knew, who was jealous, and didn’t want you to succeed? Or was it random? Someone looking for a thrill? Whoever you think it was—you are correct. All possibilities are true. Including whether or not the Reader went forward with an investigation to press charges/go through the court stuff.

Again, I cannot express my gratitude enough for the folks who read this story, who loved it, as I loved it. <3 Thank you. You mean so much to me. 

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic

[plentyoffandoms]

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x f/Reader

Main Masterlist ♡ Miscellaneous TV Shows

Warnings: Swearing, alot of swearing. Mentions of Mikey's death.

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

WC: 2900

Gifs & Photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @emziess 2nd gif @sarcasmcloud 3rd gif @grantaere

Summary: Carmy got drunk & texted his girl something that he knew wasn't right. He finds out some secrets along the way & finally they get to talk.

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto POV:

".... Carmen." Came out of her mouth quietly. She was looking down at the floor as she spoke and I didn't hear her properly.

"What?" I snapped back at her, trying to deal with the influx of orders that were heading my way.

"Fuck you."

I almost cut myself, not expecting her to snap back at me like that. I turned to look at YN, not believing what the hell I just heard.

I placed my knife gently on the countertop, wanting to slam it down, but I didn't. I turned to look at Sweets, fully this time, ignoring the stares from everyone else in the kitchen. She wasn't looking at the ground anymore. She was looking right at me, with a look, I never knew she could even muster.

Hate.

A look I never expected to ever see from her, even more so in my direction. "Get back to work Sweets and we will talk later." I couldn't fold, not with everyone looking at me. Not when it was dinner service and we need this to run smoothly. Not like it ever did, but I can wish.

She let out a laugh and shook her head no at me. She wiped at her eyes and I could see that she had angry tears that were threatening to fall.

"How dare you, Carmen. How fucking dare you blame me for what happened to Mikey," I heard the gasps from around the kitchen and Tina covered her mouth, not believing what the hell she is watching.

I took a step towards her and she took a step back. I was hurt but I didn't let it show. Syd and Tina were standing beside one another, between her and me, off to the side, looking back and forth, waiting for one of us to do or say something.

The whole room was quiet, except for the sounds from the front room and Richie's big mouth, which sounded like it was getting closer and closer to us.

"What the fuck is going on? We got people waiting for their goddamn food Cousin."

I looked up at him and Sweets took that opportunity to walk out the back door, throwing her apron on the ground.

Every single one of us was looking at the door, not believing what the hell just happened. I cleared my throat and told everyone to get back to work.

No one moved, as they too were stunned about what just happened.

"I said get back to work!"

"Yes, Chef," was mumbled throughout the kitchen and even Richie went back to the front of the house. I turned back to chopping the peppers when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tina bend down to pick up the discarded apron. She folded it neatly in her arms and looked at me and shook her head.

"Got something to say, Chef?"

"You messed up Jeff," and she walked away from me.

I tried to forget what the hell even happened between Sweets and me. Ever since I came back here, she has been nothing but there for me.

She was the one who didn't back away when I lost it on everyone. She helped to stay around and clean up when everyone left. She covered for me when I went to the AA meetings, which I thought were helping me, but I messed up badly last night.

I decided to have a drink, thinking that I could do just one, but one turned into four, which had me do something I would have never done or said to her in the first place.

'It is all your fault he is gone.'

When I saw that message I sent, I felt sick to my stomach. Hoping that Sweets forgot to charge her phone, which she does quite a bit. I threw up the contents of my stomach and headed in early to start on prep.

I kept checking my phone, waiting for her to reply, but nothing came. I was hoping that the message somehow didn't go through, but I never had luck on my side.

So as the day went on and everyone started to trickle in for their shifts, I waited for Sweets to come in, angry and upset. Ready to slap me in the face, but she came in, smiling like always. Laughing at something that Marcus said.

"Hey, I tried to see if you wanted to grab some breakfast before work, but you weren't answering any messages," Syd said to her.

"My charger stopped working and I had to get another one. I am going to charge my phone now and by the time my break starts, it should be good, but rain check on the breakfast?"

I breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing I had time to go into her phone and delete the message that I sent.

But I got distracted as the day went on. I felt like I was being pulled in all sorts of directions and never got a chance to do the one thing I needed to do.

And that is how I now find myself, leaning against the wall, with a smoke between my lips and my head in my hand.

"You are one dumb motherfucker Cousin."

"Not now Cousin," I said to the tall man.

"No, I think now is a perfect time Carmy,"

He lit a cigarette and took one long drag as he looked at me. "I don't have all night Richie," I said, impatiently, I might add.

"You do, but what you need to do is go and apologise to Sweets before she walks away from you and the rest of us."

"I know, fuck, I know I do, but she won't answer her phone."

"Well, no fucking shit. You blamed her for your brother's death. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I fucked up alright! I got drinking and I woke up to this mess I caused."

"She did everything she could when she found out what the hell Mikey was doing, but it was too late Cousin. She called Sugar and me as she was racing to his place, to try and talk to him. To get help for him," He stepped closer to me and leaned down. "She was the one who found him on the State Street Bridge. She heard the gunshot and ran to him, Cousin."

"I had no idea."

He stood up straighter as he said, "of course, you didn't. Your head is so far up your ass, you never once thought to ever ask any of us how we are doing, but that is just how the Berzatto family is."

Richie was right of course.

"But listen here Cousin, Sweets found the hidden stash that he kept in his desk a few days before and she casually brought it up to him."

"She told me that she did try to talk to him about it and that was it."

"Mikey, knowing Mikey, probably just said some words to appease her and it worked for a few days until he just didn't show up to work. Didn't call out or anything. Sweets became concerned and came here, found his goodbye letter to her in his office and she knew he was going to try something."

I started to tune him out as he was just basically repeating what he said, trying to get it through my thick skull.

SWEETS POV:

I cried myself to sleep when I got home, after walking all the way home. Not caring at that moment that I left my car at The Beef.

I woke up with a pounding headache from how much I cried and decided to take a nice, hot bath to try and relax, but all I kept seeing when I closed my eyes was the one sentence that I never thought I would ever see.

'It is all your fault he is gone.'

I read it a couple of times when I first saw it, not believing what the hell I was staring at. I couldn't keep the tears at bay when I saw him just standing there, slicing the peppers.

I felt like I was going to throw up when he took a step towards me, as it finally dawned on him that I saw the message.

When Richie distracted his attention, I was gone out the back door. Ignoring Tina and Ebraheim as they called out for me.

I thought about calling out sick today, but I can't just be alone. I needed to be around people, but I also didn't want to be around him.

So I decided to take a nice walk before I headed to work. I was just going to go in, do my job and leave and not hang out with Carmy like I normally would on a Friday night.

But as I was about to head outside, it started to rain. I groaned to myself knowing that nothing was in the cards for me today.

I picked up my phone and called the restaurant back line, which only we and a few vendors know of, hoping that he wouldn't pick up, but just like rain, I wasn't going to get what I wanted.

"Hello," his tired voice answered. I gulped, feeling all the emotions I thought I pushed aside from last night, came rushing back to me.

"Carmen," I didn't get to finish what I was going to say.

"Sweets, I am sorry. Please you have to know I am."

I closed my eyes and willed myself not to cry.

"I am not coming in tonight, I don't feel we-we-well," I stuttered out the last bit, just trying to end this conversation.

"Please come in Sweets, I need to talk to you. We can work this out." His voice was going soft. I shook my head, trying not to give in.

"You hurt me Carmy. You blamed me for his death,"

"I know Sweets and I know it wasn't your fault. I just got drunk and,"

This time I didn't let him finish, "you got drunk? You know when people drink, their true feelings start to come out? I say this from the bottom of my heart, fuck you Carmen Berzatto," and before he could even respond, I hung up the phone and just turned it off. Not wanting to deal with anyone from The Beef today.

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto POV:

"Fuck you Carmen Berzatto," was the last thing she said before she hung up on me. I stood up from my chair and kicked it back from me.

I grabbed the closest thing to me and threw it against the wall. When I heard the item fall apart, I realised that it was my phone.

"FUCK!" I shouted as I bent over the desk, trying to catch my breath.

"Bear are you okay?" I groaned when I heard my Sister's voice.

"I am just fine Sugar,"

"I can see you are not," She stepped into my office and closed the door behind her. I turned around and just fell to the ground, not wanting to talk to her about it. She took my discarded chair and sat on it.

"Cousin called me and told me what happened."

"Fuckin' Richie," I muttered.

"No, he used his head and called the one person besides Sweets, that you listen to. Now tell me your side, and we are not leaving this room until you do."

I knew my sister was being serious, but I also knew I could get past her if I needed to, but why cause more shit.

"I got drunk and then texted Sweets, blaming her for Mikey's death. She told me she knew he was taking the pills and I just, I fucked up Sugar and now she isn't talking to me."

"For good reason. You know her Bear. You know her better than any of us. She loved Mikey like he was her brother. He was too far gone and there was no one to help him. I have had to come to terms with that and you should too."

"I know, I don't know what I was thinking. I fucked up, just like I always do."

"Well fix it," I rolled my eyes at my sister.

"I am serious Bear. She is the best thing that has ever happened to you." My big eyes seemed to get even bigger if possible.

"Wait, how did you know?"

"That you two are seeing each other? I am your sister and I see everything."

I narrowed my eyes at her as I could see the smirk on her face.

"I saw you two at the farmers market, you pulling her into your arms and kissing her and looking at her with so much love, that I didn't know you could look at someone like that."

"I have already lost her and I deserve to be alone."

"What you need to do is apologise and don't wait much longer."

I waited until it was almost closing time and told Syd and Marcus I was heading out. "We will make sure this place is all set for tomorrow Chef," Marcus said as I was putting on my jacket.

I reached into my pocket for my smokes when I felt my keys, and it dawned on me that I have her spare car key. I drove the short distance to her apartment and parked in her spot.

I stood outside, contemplating what the hell I can even say to her when she stepped out onto her balcony.

Her favourite blanket was wrapped around her shoulders and she was on the phone with someone, I couldn't hear what she was saying, even though I wish I could.

She must felt me looking at her. She was always good at telling when I was near. Her sad look became angry and she said something on the phone and then put the phone on her table.

"Go away, Carmen."

"I just want to talk, please."

"Just say it through text. Then I will know how you feel," I called after as she went back into her apartment, wanting to punch the brick wall when suddenly the door opened and it was another tenant coming out to walk their dog.

They held the door open for me as I have seen them previously and ran to the elevator, which seemed to take a lifetime. The door was barely open and I was pushing my way through, hitting her floor number.

Her apartment was three doors down, on the right and I waited outside her door, contemplating what the hell I will even say, so I just knocked. Not using my spare key like I normally would.

"Go away, Carmen."

"I just want to talk, Sweets."

No answer and I waited, so I tried knocking again. I got louder and louder until she flung open the door with an annoyed look on her face.

"You have five minutes Berzatto, make them count."

The moment the door was closed and locked behind me, I didn't know what to say. Well, I knew I should apologise, but that isn't good enough.

I sat on the couch next to her, and she was waiting for me to speak. I cleared my throat and for once in my life, I didn't think as I spoke.

"I didn't mean it, Sweets, you know that. I don't know why I even thought that at that moment. I was drunk and missing him. It was his birthday and I got to thinking about him."

I saw her start to show some emotion besides anger, like almost sadness, but I continued.

"Cousin told me that you were trying to help Mikey. That you found him. I am sorry, why didn't you tell me?"

"I have tried to forget it. At first, I thought I could do something to help him with his addiction and well, we know what happened. I blamed myself and got depressed. Sugar came and found me, curled up in my bed days after his funeral and told me that you were coming home to take over the restaurant."

"I didn't want to come home."

"I know you didn't Carmy," at least she is calling me Carmy instead of Carmen now. Must be making progress.

"But you did and I know it has been tough for you and every single one of us, but God, I am glad you are home, but you really hurt my Carmy."

I grabbed her hand that was in her lap and I kissed her knuckles. "And I will do whatever I can to make up for it. I love you Sweets and you know that."

It was the first time I said it to her and I needed her to know how much I love her and I can lose her.

"I love you too Carmy."

I gripped her chin in my hand and brought my head close to hers and gently kissed her lips. "Let me make it up to you," I muttered against her lips as we deepened the kiss.

"You owe me Mr Berzatto." Sweets said as she stood up and took my hand in hers. I followed her to her small bedroom and I made a silent promise to myself that I will forever try to make it up to her.

#carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear #the bear imagine #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic

[hwaswh0r3]

'*•.¸♡ABOUT HWASWH0R3♡¸.•*'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚INTERESTS AND BASICS˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Interests/Hobbies

— Art, Piano, Watching Movies, editing

Basics

—Black (AA), old enough, active on here and TikTok, will NOT sugarcoat opinions, I will be respectful though, If you recommend me something to read or watch I’ll probably look into it. Occasional Anime watcher, mainly jjk and dmcb. you can message me about/send me anything, I’m talkative so I’ll always answer and probably within twenty minutes…

More importantly

—This blog supports Palestine, Congo, and Yemen. !sraeL supporters shouldn’t interact.

—Anti Taylor Swift and anti Mamamoo

—Anyone can interacts; I don’t post smut or porn links so wtv

DNI

—racists, anti-anything lgbtq related, dsmp fans, pro shippers of any real people, Swifties, Drake fans occasionally (depends), Jackson Wang fans…

Music Artists I Like.・。.・゜✭・.

♩Kpop/Krnb Artists♩

—BTS, Red Velvet, Ateez, ITZY, Twice (ot8), New Jeans, Fromis_9, KIOF, NCT127, DEAN, Baekhyun, Tabber, SAAY, LEEBADA

♪Non Kpop Artists♪

—PARTYNEXTDOOR, Syd, Beyonce, JID, J. Cole, Kendrick Lamar, Summer Walker, H.E.R., GIVĒON, Ethel Cain, Sleep Token, Melanie Martinez, willow smith, Rhianna, Daniel Caesar, Bruno Mars, Megan Thee Stallion, 6LACK, offset, Thea Weeknd, Lil Tecca, Lil Yatchy, THE INTERNET, TV Girl, Frank Ocean

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* Favorite Shows and Movies

Shows

—The Boondocks, Girl From Nowhere, Criminal Minds, Abbott Elementary, Bobs Burgers, Scandal, The end of the F*****g World, All American, Living Single, Girlfriends, New Girl, Accused, Pose

Movies

—Waves (2019), The Diary of a Teenage Girl (2015), Moonlight (2016), Thirteen (2003), Girl Interrupted (1999) 

*＊✿❀FAVORITE YOUTUBERS❀✿＊*

Berleezy (♡), CoryxKenshin, ImDontai, Druski, Danny Gonzalez, Kurtis Connor, Drew Gooden, Spikima Movies, North of The Border, Kiwi Tapes, EmKay, r/slash, Chad Chad, tuv, j aubrey, SunnyV2, OverSimplified, Adam Neely

. ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ . Only other Socials

—@hwaswh0r3 on TikTok

#hwaswh0r3 #kpop #gtkm #berleezy #coryxkenshin #anti taylor swift #art #artists on tumblr #cottagecore #naturecore #trending #jjk #dmcb #dms open #i talk a lot #i promise #animation #black #need mutuals #tiktok #Spotify

[asgard-segun-elcadejos]

Asgard Academy

Year 2: Part II

[ Index ]

xxxxxxxxx

“Hey, uhm, was it wrong of me to hang out with Artica all those times?”

“Nah, but it was foolish to not think a little harder about how it was perceived.”

“If I had the choice, I would like to go out with Artica every time.”

“Alright, that’s a start,” Bud nodded. “Now you just have to tell’er that.���

Fenrir saw him chuckle; no doubt because he suddenly grew very tense. “I’m not very good with… expressing myself. I can’t imagine how you did it.”

Bud displayed a cocky grin. “I wouldn’t compare; we have vastly different personalities.”

Fenrir sighed in agreement.

“I didn’t accept Karianne's advances because she’s physically attractive (she is, but that wasn’t it). K has such a fiery personality and isn't afraid to show it. She’ll argue you into the ground if she believes she’s right. I really like that, especially in a Blue. You people always want to talk it out. Sometimes you have to punch it out.”

Fenrir had a slight frown. “I hope you’re not punching it out with her, though.”

“Not like that…” Bud replied in a whisper. “Anyway, what are you going to do about Artica? You are interested, right? And is that enough for you to want to focus on her for a while or will you move on sooner rather than later?”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bud chastised himself, aware he let his mouth run a little more than he intended. Artica was his priority here; if Fenrir was not particularly committed, he wouldn’t encourage him any longer. “As we established before, you went on ‘very likely’ dates with a few others, and then with Artica.”

“I already told you I’d choose her over them.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. For how long are you gonna date Karianne, huh?” Fenrir spat back, annoyed. “I don’t know jack shit about any of this. It’s already humiliating to learn I’m socially inept, stop making it seem like I do it on purpose.”

The Black raised his eyebrows with a hint of guilt.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away... I want the following to be very clear: don’t engage carelessly without at least contemplating what’ll happen. When someone gives you expectations and fails to meet them, it’s difficult to swallow. Let’s say you start dating someone, and when they’re with you, they call you sweet names, but when they talk to others, you instantly become 'just someone from school'. That would suck, right?”

“A lot, yeah…”

“Alright, so try to think of the right wording for the right situation, in order to be clear. If you ask Artica out with the specific intent of dating her, then say that. ‘Hey, do you wanna go on a date with me?’. That’s much clearer than saying ‘Wanna go to the arcade?’”

Bud packed his stuff in his bag and turned around. “That’s the only thing I would ask of you; always be clear. If at the end of the day, it turns out you don’t like her enough to date, I get it, but make sure to let her know.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“How’s it going?”

“All good, son, just finished packing. Hope I didn’t forget anything.”

“No worries, Dad. Anything you need, just say so. Syd and I will handle it.”

Sannfrid let out a chuckle. “Last year, you avoided his name in every possible way, and now you team up for birthday parties. You’ve come very far, Bud, I’m so proud of you.”

The teenager wrapped his arms around him with a relieved sigh. A little over a year ago, his father had been gravely ill, and it was only the kind offer from his biological parents, that he now knew was Syd’s idea, that helped him get better faster. Bud was grateful for many things, but that was the biggest one.

“Thanks, Dad.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

"Everyone, may I have a moment of your time?"

The staff quieted down and gave the young master their undivided attention.

"As we have discussed, three of our guests this week are not as deeply familiar with etiquette as the others; my older twin brother Bud, the man who raised him Sannfrid, and our mutual friend Artica. I humbly ask you to be patient and understanding with them and help if they seem to be struggling. Regarding the last person I mentioned, there is one more thing…"

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

"Oh, gods, her face!" Hejne whispered and was immediately elbowed in the ribs by his young master.

"What did I say? Pray she did not hear that, or you will help me clean my piano more often!"

Awfully aware of how slow, tedious, and absolutely boring that was, Hejne gave him a mortified nod. He lined up with three other youths and an older man waiting behind their young master. Karianne and Rúri ran to them immediately. Syd gathered his other four guests for introductions.

“Hejne is my gentleman-in-waiting, and for this week, yours too,” he told Bud, then turned to Sannfrid. “Gudvin will assist you, sir, and Hanka will help Artica out.”

Hejne was a lively boy with brown hair and a small birthmark on his right cheek. Gudvin seemed solemn and kind, safe to approach. Hanka, on the other hand, was a dark-haired girl with sharp eyes and a very serious demeanor.

Bud, visibly uncomfortable, cleared his throat. “Is this in any way optional?”

“Not for you three, I am afraid. Things between a city manor and a family manor work very differently. It is better if you have direct assistance to navigate this,” Syd explained. “For you, however, it is.”

Fenrir felt all eyes on him and immediately prayed the ground would swallow him up, but the gods had never answered him before, so it was pointless to hope they would now. “I’m fine by myself, thank you.”

“Oh, alright. We were not sure if you would bring your own gentleperson-in-waiting…”

“Uh, no,” Fenrir replied and diverted his eyes elsewhere. As if the gods decided to compromise, Karianne and Rúri suddenly interrupted, stealing the attention away from him.

“This is Paolo! My gentleman-in-waiting!” Karianne announced in a joyful tone. “Oh, I have missed you, sweetie. I am so glad you could come with Father. Where is Father, though?”

“Lord Ulrich is to arrive on the morrow, my lady, along with Lady Paulfrid,” Paolo answered at once. His complexion was somewhat darker than the average Asgardian, with dark blond hair in waves and darker shades of green in his eyes. He even looked tanned, which was highly uncommon among those living in the Asgardian Principality. The most interesting thing about him was, however, his overall, utterly relaxed demeanor.

Rúri took the hand of the girl next to her and gave her a spin, so her long skirt swirled around her. “Ritva is my lady-in-waiting. Such a sweetheart, I hope you will get along well.”

Ritva’s kind eyes were partially obscured by her platinum blonde hair. As everyone introduced themselves, Artica noticed they all did the same thing when greeting her and couldn’t help letting out a sigh. This was going to be a long visit.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“A pleasure to see you, Sannfrid, thank you greatly for accepting our invitation,” Lord Baldrek said.

“Thank you for hosting me once again, my Lord, it is an honor,” he replied, returning his handshake firmly with a deep bow.

After witnessing this, Bud scouted for the next moment he was available to whisper into his ear. “You've been here before?”

“Twice, yeah. The first time was when they decided to take advantage of the legal reform, so they contacted your legal guardian (me), and the second time was before they reached out to you directly.”

His son raised an eyebrow. Sannfrid did mention meeting his parents beforehand and discussing the whole thing, but not that it was here in the Viking Tiger family manor. It didn’t really matter, yet it now made sense why his father hadn’t been nervous to come all the way here. He even greeted Gudvin with familiarity.

After the never-ending formalities, they were finally shown to their rooms. The twins and their partners were located to the left of the dining hall, while Sannfrid, Fenrir, and Artica had to go right. Their quarters seemed the same; a room so wide it fit an enormous bed, a pair of armchairs around an elegant tea table in front of the fireplace, and a finely carved desk next to the window. The bathroom was equally wide, with both a bathtub and a shower.

“This place’s ridiculous.”

Artica meant it in a good way, but got nothing more than a side-eye from Hanka, who had followed her inside. The lady-in-waiting pointed to the enormous closet and made quick hand gestures.

‘Please use this space for your clothing and shoes. If you require a thicker coat, or better insulated boots, let me know.’

The Black nodded, and got it over within ten minutes, which was just about right considering she hadn’t brought (and didn’t actually own) that many etiquette-appropriate outfits. Artica looked around before sitting on the bed.

‘What are the family manor rules I must not forget? Aside from regular etiquette, I mean.’

‘You may use common areas like the library, tearoom, and courtyards at your leisure. Eating and event areas only at designated times-‘

‘Library?!’ her eyes sparkled at the thought, but Hanka didn’t seem to appreciate her interruption. ‘Sorry, please continue.’

‘Private quarters cannot be entered unless the user explicitly invites you. It is prohibited and has strong consequences.’

Syd suddenly burst in with a smile. “What do you think? Anything else you might want in here?”

Artica looked at Hanka, who rolled her eyes. She was careful enough to sign just out of Syd's field of vision. ‘He is an exception. And no, I do not know if his twin also is.’

The Black nodded again, impressed by how perceptive the other girl was. “Not at all! I’ve never had a space like this all to myself. Feels kinda lonely.”

The young master smirked. "So it is company you want? That can be arranged."

"Shut UP!" Artica immediately replied, her cheeks flushing. "That’s NOT what I meant."

"No? Shame, I already had someone in mind."

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Fenrir was staring out the library window, deep in thought.

He couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed since they arrived at the Viking Tiger family manor. The absurd number of staff members, unthinkable levels of precisely executed logistics, the general warmth in everyone’s gestures. That was all foreign to him. Neither city or family manors of the Northern Wolf would be able to host these guests or achieve this level of efficiency. Hell, XXXX and his brother kept only four staff members each, two for general duties and two for cooking. A gentleperson-in-waiting for all guests (if they did not bring their own) was out of the question.

The boy frowned. Would it have been different if his parents were alive? Would there be that many people? Could events like these take place back in the mountains? Should he have had a gentleperson-in-waiting all along? It would’ve been nice to have a companion of any sort, at some point. Growing up an only child, and an orphan, under the tutelage of two people who gave exactly zero shits about him had made quite the dent in his… everything.

Fenrir let out a sigh, and then heard some shuffling between nearby shelves. Following the rustle, but not really paying attention to his surroundings, he bumped headfirst into a bookworm he knew too well.

“Hey, good morning,” he greeted, and had to repress a chuckle seeing her carrying three large books with a gazillion pages each.

“‘Morning! You think I can read them all before we leave?”

“Maybe, if you wake up early every day. Why are you awake now, though?”

Artica drifted to a nearby table, left two of the books and grabbed the third. “Oh, uh, I forgot to ask for schedules yesterday, and woke up in a hurry only to find everyone else still asleep. I might have woken Hanka up too, feel kinda bad about that.”

‘I was already awake’ she signed, popping up from between some shelves with two cups of tea on a tray. She left it on the table before leaving. ‘I will come for you when breakfast is ready.’

Taking note that Hanka was keeping a thorough eye on her, and that she was clearly skilled at lip reading, Artica gestured for Fenrir to take a seat. “Gentlepeople-in-waiting are both fascinating and alien to me.”

“That makes two of us.”

She said nothing. The day before, it seemed to her that Fenrir declined Syd’s offer because it made him uncomfortable to be a noble and not know how to interact with people in that role. Apparently, that was the case. “So, why are you awake now?”

I have no idea what is expected of me, and that keeps me on edge. “I also forgot to ask for schedules.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“You really have an indoor swimming pool. This is blowing my mind,” Artica said as they entered. “Wished you’d said so before, though, I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

“Me neither,” Bud admitted.

“Not a problem, darlings, I did,” Karianne chimed in.

“Wh-? What does that mean?”

“Paolo, be a dear and bring the purple bag, you know the one.”

Her gentleman-in-waiting nodded and left but returned soon after. They both went into the changing room next to the entrance. Karianne’s voice could be heard inside. “Well, what are you waiting for? We do not have all day!”

Artica and Bud exchanged looks while Syd and Rúri smirked. “Finally, she has some other poor souls to use for entertainment.”

“No offense, guys, but she has been pestering us for years. It was about time a replacement showed up.”

Once inside, before anything else, Karianne and Paolo stared at them in almost identical gestures, a hand on their chins.

“Palettes?”

Even though Paolo narrowed his eyes in concentration, it didn’t seem to break his eternally relaxed expression. “Mid-dark tones for him, preferably in the reds so he matches you, my lady. Lighter tones for Miss Reynirdóttir.”

“Lighter? Are you sure? I was thinking maybe some blue to… you know…” Karianne raised her eyebrows, pointing to something that was not there.

“A compromise, then? I believe A13 fulfills both, my lady.”

“Hm, yes, that is a good choice. However, we will start with the other one. Please hand him from B4 to B9, and then from B17 to B20.”

Artica was offered a seat next to Karianne, while Bud was sent into one of the changing room cubicles. He had to try a parade of different swimsuits, all different mixes of black, gray, and splashes of color between purple and orange. After a full thirty minutes, Karianne and Paolo nodded to themselves.

“Very well, please give him B12, the one we selected yesterday.”

“What? You made me try all of those even though you’d already decided on one?”

“Yes, I needed to see you in different styles, for future reference. That hot ass of yours should always be displayed in flattering garments! Now get out, it is Artica’s turn.”

“She saw all of mine, why can’t I see hers?”

“I wanted her seasoned opinion on the other options, now please change and exit, we have work to do.”

With a slight blush on his cheeks, Bud did as she asked and left. Artica was given A13 immediately.

“Wow, you have really nice legs, sweetie. Show them off more often, yes? Now, what do we think of A13, Paolo?”

“Good fit. A two-piece shows your athletic disposition quite well, Miss Reynirdóttir.”

“Th-thanks.”

Karianne tapped her cheek with one finger. “You know, this one fits you very well, so I encourage you to wear it, but may I ask you to try two other swimsuits?”

“For future reference?” she chuckled. “Yeah, that’s okay with me. Thanks for lending me this one! You’re a lifesaver.”

After changing to their own swimsuits, Karianne and Paolo returned to the poolside. The curly-haired girl took a seat in one of the benches. “Ritva, honey, are you not going to join them?”

Ritva uncovered one shoulder. “I did bring a swimsuit, my lady, but I feel unwell. Maybe another time.”

“I understand, come sit next to me so we can enjoy the view together.”

Bud’s head popped up from underwater. “You got us into these; you have to get in too, K!”

“Not today, darling. Pool chlorine is not what I need after washing my hair last night.”

Without another word, the older twin got out of the pool, dripping water everywhere, and picked her up princess-style.

“Unhand me, you beefy oaf! Do not dare to-!”

“Hey, no, wait!” Artica managed to say, getting out of the pool too. “Not like that, put her down.”

Karianne gave her a thankful look, just before the Black suddenly pulled her towards the water edge. She gasped loudly, clinging desperately to Artica and anticipating the cold water, but nothing happened. The Blue opened her eyes again to see Artica smirking teasingly as she pulled her back.

"You said you didn't want to get in the pool today because of your hair, so it would've been unkind to push you in."

"S-so gentlemanly of you, sweetie, thank you."

"Of her only, though," Bud interrupted mischievously as he trapped them in a hug, dropping all three of them into the pool.

After that, Karianne stayed in the pool, but didn’t allow Bud anywhere near her. Instead, she clung to Artica’s back like a reproachful child. Even during the water polo game, she refused to be on the same team. However, before they returned to prepare for lunch, Karianne graciously accepted Bud’s apology and allowed him to carry her all the way back.

“Is it always like this?” Paolo asked, picking up his things from the changing room.

“It is worse, actually,” Rúri replied while gently drying Syd’s hair with a towel.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Lady Paulfrid drank from her goblet. “The Archery Tournament is this spring, yes?”

“Remember that time Crown Prince Adalhar himself took part in it and a seventeen-year-old kid from the eastern region beat him by 2 points? His Royal Highness was furious.”

“It was hilarious,” Lord Ulrich said with a chuckle. “Not that he lost, of course, there is no shame in that. It just happened that His Royal Highness was so utterly convinced he won, he never bothered to check the kid’s total points.”

“Huh, funny you mention that, Father-” Karianne said, and was suddenly stopped by Bud’s knee bumping into hers. He shook his head, as subtle as he could manage. Her eyes drifted to Artica, who had lost all color on her face, her eyes begging Karianne to not say anything else.

“Yes, darling?” her father asked, noticing she suddenly went quiet.

“Ah- I-”

“Did you know, my Lord, that boy is Miss Reynirdóttir’s older brother? And she is as skilled an archer as him,” Rúri suddenly intervened, to the other three’s dismay. “An outstanding shot, surely to win the Tournament this coming spring.”

“Is that so, Miss Reynirdóttir?”

Frozen in her seat, Artica barely managed to reply. “Y-yes, my Lord. That he is my older brother, I mean. I would not dare claim the second part of my lady’s statement.”

“She is being modest,” the blonde nodded. “Why, if you could just see her in action…”

Bud snapped out of his shock. “It did not occur to us to bring her gear, my lady.”

“If we were to procure some, would you accept a humble request of skill display?”

All eyes on her, Artica had no other option than to nod slowly, defeated.

Lady Tilda clapped her hands together in excitement. “Oh, I do not believe we have had an archery display at the family manor in years!”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“Why did you tell them?” Artica moaned, collapsing unceremoniously on one of the library chairs.

“Hm? Why would I not? Ever since we arrived, you seemed a bit down, so I figured that doing some archery would help you get through it!”

“Do you know why that is?”

Bud gave Syd a look, and his twin casually asked Hejne, Ritva, and Paolo to use the next hour to their leisure.

“... I cannot claim to be certain.”

“Everyone on this estate has been flinching, muttering, and deviating their gaze every time they speak to me. We met after the bite; I’ve always looked like this to you, but during the sixteen years before that, I didn’t stand out because of my appearance, and that was alright with me. Now I don’t have a choice…” she took a deep breath. “At the Academy and everywhere else I frequently go, people are already used to how I look, so I sometimes forget I even have it but… Not here. If I could, I’d rather not put myself in that position…”

Rúri took her hand. “I apologize, sweetie, I should have asked you first. You are always up to a challenge, so I incorrectly assumed this would be nothing for you to worry about. Would you like me to speak with Lady Tilda?”

“I think it is a little late for that, she already procured the archery equipment.”

“What? It’s only been rwenty minutes!” Bud blurted out.

“Oh, you should really hang out with Mother more often. She wastes no time, ever.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Fenrir had hung back and waited for a moment to speak. Lady Paulfrid was the first to notice and turned to him with a warm smile. “Yes, young lord? May we help you?”

“My Ladies, my Lords,” he began, taking a deep breath. “During my Coming of Age ceremony, I will be formally granted the title of Lord. However, I find myself… lacking understanding of the true meaning of this responsibility. May I humbly request you share some of your experience with me?”

He bowed deeply, waiting for their answer. The adults gave each other a look and nodded. Lord Baldrek spoke first. “It would be an honor, young lord. I can only hope to provide useful guidance."

"With pleasure! Her Majesty did send word a few months back; I was wondering when you would come around to ask," Lord Ulrich said teasingly.

Fenrir straightened up with an awkward smile. The truth was he had been too embarrassed to reach out. He only did it now because the three Heads of House were conveniently gathered in the same place. "I- I am-"

"There is no need to answer that, young lord, he is just being an ass," Lady Paulfrid intervened, shaking her head at Lord Ulrich's amused expression. "Thank you for reaching out to us, we are more than honored by your consideration."

Lady Tilda concluded the conversation she was having with Aleks, the head butler, and turned around to address her husband. "I already rearranged the schedule to include both the archery display and this meeting, dear. I will inform the children right away."

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“What’s wrong?”

Artica stopped fidgeting with the equipment. “Ah, it’s just… this is a recurve bow. They’re certainly the primary choice for target archery, and the standard for Olympic-level competition, but mine is a compound bow, better fitted for hunting.”

“Oh, the piercing power is greater, I guess?” Fenrir asked, more to himself than to her.

“Yep! That’s right! I mean, recurve bows can also be used for hunting, the specs are just different… and this one’s got no silencer, so it’s gonna be loud. This bow sight we can leave it in the box, not gonna use it. The arrows have rubber vanes, I guess that’s fine. Oh, these shooting gloves are nice! I'd like to have something like these one day. The arm guard is good too, though it’s kinda stiff…” Artica was saying, and suddenly remembered she was not alone. “Sorry, Fenrir, am I boring you with all this? I’m too much of an archery nerd, m’afraid, you guys just never have to put up with it.”

Fenrir was so absorbed by how enthusiastically she talked about it, he barely noticed it had devolved into a monologue. “Not at all! I think it’s cool you have something you’re so passionate about.”

Artica gave him a gentle smile. “Thanks for keeping me company. I’m not nervous anymore.”

He wouldn’t have guessed it based on her ramblings alone. “Just like in the exhibition at the beginning of the school year, this is practice for the tournament too. Even if there’s a lot of strangers, you’ll do great. I know it.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

"May I ask you something personal, my lady?"

"Certainly, my lord, what is it?"

"Syd and Karianne are both dear to you, yes?” he said, looking at them chasing Bud around the courtyard while they waited for Artica to return. “How did you, uhm, note the difference?"

Rúri meditated on his words. "...between romantic and platonic?"

Fenrir nodded sheepishly.

"Ah, this sounds like a serious matter to be discussed over tea, my lord. Follow me."

A while later, they were sitting at a table in a nearby gazebo with jasmine tea and pastries brought by Ritva.

"So," she resumed after taking a sip. "You wonder what is the difference between one and the other. I feel there is no universal answer, but we can discuss whatever is on your mind if that will help you understand it better."

"There is someone," Fenrir began, self-conscious at the flicker of her eyes. "I, uh, appreciate, but I am not sure if it’s one or the other… and cannot make up my mind."

“Well, let us start with the easy part. Why are you friends with this person?”

“They are kind and supportive towards me, we have fun together, and have shown me they have my back.”

“And why do you believe you might want something more?”

The boy lowered his gaze, a faint blush on his cheeks. “...because my heart skips a beat when they call out my name.”

Rúri tightened her lips, trying to disguise how heartwarming she found that answer. “Have you ever shared time alone with this person?”

“Yeah, a bit…”

“Did it feel… like a breath of fresh air? A weight lifting up?”

He nodded, his eyes wide.

“If tomorrow, they came to you and said ‘I do not want to see you again’, how would you react?”

Fenrir closed his eyes, very aware of how that felt like. “I would abide, even if it broke me into pieces.”

Rúri nudged the other cup in his direction. “Drink your tea, dear, and take a deep breath. This is all hypothetical, no need to jump to conclusions.”

They ate a few pastries and finished their tea in silence. Rúri had a nostalgic smile on her lips.

“I often feel Syd and I are in a duet; his piano and my violin, playing a melody no one else knows. It is sweet, and slow, and gentle. I do not know how long we will play it together, but I do know it warms my heart and eases my pains. Maybe this is a difficult metaphor for you to relate to, but that is how our relationship feels to me.”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

It’d been a while since everyone split up for the treasure hunt, and the fact they hadn’t bumped into any of the other teams yet only proved how gigantic the Viking Tiger family estate really was. Artica checked the oddly elaborate map Hanka gave her, deep in thought. Fenrir, who was aware Bud “randomly” paired them together, had been unsuccessfully trying to make a move for the past twenty minutes. He found it sadly ironic that his “blurt out” skills only worked with stupid shit, and not actual, meaningful phrases. In the meantime, however, he came up with something to use soon.

“Say… if you had a coat of arms, what do you think it would be?”

“Like, for my family, or a personal one?”

“Oh, uhm, whichever.”

“Hmm… I think a family crest would have a predator. Hunting’s been in Pa’s family for a few generations now.”

“And for you?”

“Personally, I would love a stag!” Artica replied, curling her hands over her head to imitate antlers. “Majestic and strong as fuck, those bast-! Shit.”

It didn’t take Fenrir long to understand. There was a very alert-looking Norwegian Elkhound staring right at them, not with the friendliest body language. Such a breed is known to be wary of strangers, and well, that’s exactly what this dog stumbled upon. Artica was breathing fast, nervous all over.

“No. No, no, no. Animals, dogs, react to your own energy. You gotta stay cool, Artica,” the boy said, his hands on her shoulders. “Nothing’s gonna happen, okay? I promise.”

The dog moved toward them at a steady pace. When she felt its breath on her, Artica kind of stepped away, right into him. Without skipping a beat, Fenrir took her hands and stood very still.

“I promise,” he repeated in a quiet voice. She looked him straight in the eyes, trying her best to tune out her immediate surroundings. Unconsciously, Artica matched his breathing and relaxed a bit. Just a bit.

“Stay cool, that’s it. You got it.”

The dog sniffed them for a while before cocking its head towards a rustle at their left.

“Oh, sh- Heck.”

Hejne caught himself just in time, then whistled. The dog’s ears perked up at once and returned to his side. It did not escape him the guests were holding hands. “I apologize. This dog is witty and knows it can open its kennel door with enough patience. The young master asked us to keep them locked away during your visit.”

“That’s probably because of me, sorry,” Artica said with a sympathetic smile. “A dog bit me last year.”

Hejne's eyes opened wide, briefly looking at the left side of her face. He bowed. “I deeply apologize, Miss Reynirdóttir, I was not aware. It will absolutely not happen again; on that you have my word.”

“Thanks, Hejne, I appreciate it. Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone, right?”

“About what?” Fenrir asked casually, also with a sympathetic smile. He gave her hand a squeeze, not knowing the gesture gave her heart a squeeze too.

The gentleman-in-waiting bowed once more, thankful, and took the dog away. Just before reaching the kennels, he heard Syd’s awfully familiar stepping pattern on the stone.

“Why is that dog outside?”

“If you allow me to skip that question, I can tell you what I saw after I bumped into two of our guests.”

Syd’s mouth curled into a smile. “Oh? I am listening~”

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Was he underdressed? Or maybe overdressed? No, there was no such thing as overdressing when meeting a Head of House, certainly not when meeting three at the same time! Fenrir wished this felt normal to some degree, but the truth was that in that manor in Eastern Asgard few things felt familiar. Luckily, one of those was sitting on the bed, looking at him with bright silver eyes.

“I really don’t think there’s anything wrong with that outfit?” Artica said with a hand on her chin. “The cut is etiquette-appropriate, and there’s no need to be fully formal because it’s a private meeting, not a public event.”

“But they are Heads of House! And I will be too when I turn eighteen! I can’t fuck up now (or ever)! They’ll know I’m ill-suited for the title!”

“You’re not ill-suited; you’re not even seventeen yet! Give yourself some credit; not everyone has the guts to speak to three Heads of House at once.”

I don’t have the guts either, but there is no other choice. “I just wished I wasn’t doing it by myself.”

“You’re not,” Artica replied, taking his hand to deposit the locket left on the nightstand. “The person who gave you this said so, right? They’re with you forever, and even if I don’t know much about the burden you carry, I’m here for you too.”

She let her words hang in the air for a moment, trying to decide. Should I tell him now that we’re alone? No, he’s too worried about the meeting. Putting him on the spot right now would be unkind, but if I tell him afterwards and he doesn’t feel the same, the days we have left here will be awkward.

Artica reached towards him. “May I…”?

Fenrir’s heart was pounding so hard, he was sure the Black could hear it too. One of her hands, warm and calloused, was handing him the locket with his parents’ helix piercings, while the other reached out towards him. Fenrir hopelessly wished it was to cup his cheek in a reassuring gesture and maybe a k- No, better not. I don’t even know how to kiss.

Before he realized it, Artica’s hands were on his neck, gently fixing his shirt collar, and then moved down to slightly adjust his tie. She gave Fenrir a tender tap on the chest, noticing how nice his citric cologne smelled. “There. They were a lil’ crooked.”

Internally screaming, Fenrir wished he didn’t have a terribly important meeting in five minutes. He needed at least ten to recover from this. “Thanks! I… sadly must get going.”

Sadly?

There was a faint blush on both of their cheeks. She nodded and followed him, noting how suspicious it was that her four classmates and their three gentlepeople-in-waiting just happened to be chatting in the hallway outside, considering their quarters were in the opposite direction. Hejne led Fenrir away to his meeting, while the other six stared at her expectantly.

“Is everything alright? Did something happen?”

“Something like what?”

Karianne suppressed a frown. “Well, you were…”

“Helping Fenrir get ready, like I said this morning," Artica interrupted, playing dumb for the sheer pleasure of messing with her. Watching Karianne struggle to get answers while keeping her subtlety was honestly hilarious.

"A word?" Bud asked, choosing to be more direct.

"Apologies, brother. Artica and I already have an appointment."

"We do?"

"Yes, you are to help me with piano practice, remember?"

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

They had done this many times before, yet it was still amusing to see how much a change of setting impacted everything. The piano was larger than the Academy’s, and handsomely decorated in gold over forest green. The legs even had carvings that made them look like Viking tiger paws, which was both fearsome and elegant. Hejne brought tea and pastries and arranged them neatly on a table nearby.

Syd started playing at once, clearly in a joyful mood.

“Sounds like your birthday week is going well,” Artica commented, nibbling on a fruit tartlet.

“It is! Everyone was able to come, and I have been having such a great time! I do hope it is the same for you.”

“Oh, absolutely! Lots of firsts this past few days. I've never had papaya before!”

As usual, they talked a bit about Bud, a bit about Syd himself, and even a bit about the Lord and Lady of the Viking Tiger. Hejne chimed in with bits about Paolo and Ritva but found talking about himself too embarrassing and changed the subject several times. During the conversation, Syd's helix piercing caught the light, and she couldn't help asking.

“How did you meet Rúri?”

“Oh, Karianne introduced us a few years back. As you know, they have been friends for ages,” Syd explained, without missing a beat on the piano. "It was during a ball, yes?"

"Sigrblót (1) festival, I believe?" Hejne offered helpfully.

"Oh, right! What a beautiful summer start that was… Anyway, when Karianne told me about her, I was astonished. Plays the violin? Likes jazz music? Enjoys visiting new places? I had not even met her, and I already felt we would get along fantastically, which was obviously the case.”

“Obviously,” she agreed with a nod, sipping some tea.

Syd carefully timed his question with a dramatic section of the song he was playing. “If I may ask, have you found someone who piques your interest? I recall the thing with Asgrim did not go very far.”

Artica lowered her teacup. “No, it didn't… but I guess I’ve found someone, yeah.”

“I am glad to hear that,” he said with a warm smile. “Whoever that person is, I hope they value your attention. You have a caring heart; it should not be invested in fools.”

I am the fool, though, unable to tell if I am the investment they are looking for. "Well, kind of tricky now, y’know? It's hard to say if they’d be okay with their partner getting stared at everywhere they go, not in a flattering way…"

Syd abruptly ended his solo and turned around, all business. "May I make a wild guess as to whom we are discussing? You do not have to acknowledge if I am correct."

Artica gave him a nod. Syd said the right name without batting an eye, cool as a cucumber. She was not cool at all, red as a shrimp. "Oh, no. Is it super obvious?"

"Probably not to him," the twin chuckled as he ate a croissant. "I figured it out recently, and even though I would not claim to know his exact thoughts on the matter, I feel he would not mind the staring. You two hang out quite frequently already."

This unexpected acknowledgement filled her heart with hope. If only…

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“You think Hejne can get me a beer?”

“Pretty sure you’re gonna get plenty of wine during dinner, it would be unwise to mix like that.”

Wearing once more his custom-made suit with the Viking Tiger cufflinks, Bud had combed his hair back in a short ponytail, for once allowing both eyes to be visible. Sannfrid and Artica nodded, impressed with the final look.

“You look fantastic,” his father said as he took a seat near the lit fireplace. “Not a hair outta place. That’s my boy.”

Bud smiled sheepishly. “You guys gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll keep Sannfrid company while we eat and then I’ll probably go to sleep early. Those paintball matches after the birthday lunch wrecked me.”

“Fill the bathtub and take a nice, long dip. It’ll ease some of the weariness.”

Artica nodded enthusiastically at Sannfrid’s suggestion. She then accompanied Bud over to the door. “Enjoy the evening. You deserve all these good things for your birthday.”

The older twin ruffled her hair with a smile. “We still need to talk about whatever happened yesterday.”

“Yeah, yeah, later. Go and have some high-class fun.”

After having a nice, quiet dinner time with Gudvin and Sannfrid, she finally went back to her quarters only to not find them empty. Karianne was reading a magazine on the bed while Rúri brushed the hair of a displeased Hanka. Ritva offered her a plate with snacks the moment she saw her.

“Wh-?”

The Black didn’t even know what to say. Hanka seemed too annoyed to even sign an explanation.

“Finally!” Karianne exclaimed, slamming the magazine shut. “Get in your pijamas; we are having a girls’ night.”

“Right now?”

“Of course, dear,” Rúri said. “We got everything ready while you were elsewhere.”

“I can tell, yes, but I was gonna fill the bathtub to-“

The girl with the black curls didn’t like that. “No- Hm! Alright, I realize we are taking time you had already planned for something else. I understand that. I have two questions, so if you are willing to answer them, we’ll move along to my quarters, and you can join us after your bath if you want.”

“Uh, sure. What are they?”

“Do you like Fenrir? And if so, did something happen between you two yesterday?”

“Yes, I do, and no, nothing of particular importance happened.”

The other four were honestly not expecting a straightforward answer and just stood still for a moment.

“Oh,” Karianne said, still flabbergasted. “Well, okay then.”

Rúri started to gather the snacks while Hanka straightened the bed. “Put some lavender oil (tall, yellow bottle on the left) in the water, sweetie. It’ll help you relax in no time.”

Artica saw them out, prepared the bathtub, and got in without further delay. It was awfully convenient they didn’t ask about the treasure hunt because boy, that would've been vastly more difficult to discuss.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

“Thank you for having us,” the guests collectively told their hosts with a deep bow.

“Oh no, thank you for coming all the way here for the boys’ birthday. It was our pleasure!” Lady Tilda said, and all the staff members present bowed after she finished talking.

Lord Baldrek turned towards Fenrir and shook his hand. “Take care, young lord. I do hope we were able to give you helpful insights. If there is anything else we can do for you, please do let us know.”

Lady Paulfid and Lord Ulrich were just behind him, nodding in agreement, but their attention drifted towards another guest quite suddenly.

“We are looking forward to seeing you in the Archery Tournament!”

“Very impressive display you gave us the other day. Who would have thought hitting a red dragon fruit with an arrow would have such an explosive, gory result!" Lord Ulrich said with delight.

She laughed nervously. If Artica had known what a red dragon fruit was before shooting it off Syd's head, she would've suggested a different target.

The Heads of House moved on to someone else, while their heirs said their goodbyes to their gentlepeople-in-waiting.

"Do take care, dear. I know you like biking but twisting your ankle is not worth it," Karianne was telling Paolo, kissing both of his cheeks. "I hope I can meet your partner next time I return home."

"Be well, my lady. I know now I leave you in good company," Paolo replied, shaking Bud's hand. "I truly enjoyed watching you annoy the hell out of each other these past days. You are meant to be."

Artica, Fenrir, and Sannfrid snorted loudly at his words. Rúri was hugging Ritva so tightly, it seemed she would never let go. "Oh, I know our schedules collide in every single way but do feel free to visit the city manor from time to time. I miss you dearly, sweetheart. Be sure to call me once you get home."

"Sometimes it sounds like that's her partner," Syd chuckled. "I do hope Hanka was not too harsh on you. She is rather serious."

"What? No, she was perfect!" said Artica, and then proceeded to mutter under her breath. "(She was the only one who looked me in the face while speaking…)"

"Farewell," a voice she didn't recognize said, and it spooked her a bit to realize it was Hanka herself. The lady-in-waiting noticed and proceeded to pull back some of her dark hair to reveal a cochlear implant. Syd had his back to them, so Hanka proceeded to sign at the speed of light.

'I've had it for a month now but… you whine too much; signing was the better choice.'

'That's fair,' Artica replied with an honest laugh. 'Thanks for your help and farewell.'

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

Karianne was looking at all the polaroids taken during the trip with great satisfaction. Her favorite one was of Bud and her, dripping wet, in the middle of a kiss, but close runner-ups were Syd covered in paintball hits, and Rúri in calf-deep fountain water trying to retrieve one of the treasure hunt coins.

The train started to slow down, and a voice announced they were arriving at the Central Asgard station. Karianne was gathering her things when she noticed one last scene that should be immortalized and quietly took a photo of Fenrir and Artica asleep, leaning into each other, before gently letting them know they had arrived.

Embla and Reynir greeted them on site and after saying goodbye to everyone else, helped them get their luggage on the local train to their side of the city. Before Artica walked Fenrir home, her mother invited him over for New Years, if he was available. Knowing XXXX would leave him behind to go on vacation, Fenrir accepted right away.

As he saw them walk away together, Bud thought to himself that something had changed between those two. He didn't know what, or why, but it felt like they were finally walking in the same direction; towards each other.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

The whole place was a mess.

One moment, the carnival held for Dísablót (2) was filled with music and laughter, and the next a lightning strike caused the main tent with the acrobats to collapse on itself while everyone screamed. Bud was both glad and ashamed; glad because he was able to grab Karianne’s hand and quickly pull her away from that chaos, and ashamed because he had failed to do just that for Artica. During any other time, it would not be a concern, but during a thunderstorm…

“Hey, are you guys okay?” a familiar voice called out to them. Fenrir emerged from between two stalls.

Bud could not help feeling discouraged. He thought maybe, where he had failed, Fenrir would have succeeded. However, there was no one with him. “Sort of. You?”

“I’m fine. Where are the others?”

The twin looked at Karianne's bleeding forehead and made a choice. I'm sorry. This time, I will not keep my promise.

"Fenrir, there is nothing that scares Artica more than thunder, and this is no simple storm. I hope you understand how important it is that you go find her, because I need to take Karianne to the hospital."

There was both a plea and a threat in his voice; Fenrir did not miss either. "I do, and I will."

They both nodded and parted ways, feeling the icy rain on their heads. It took a while of wandering the area until he found her taking cover under the big tree in the park, crouching and covering her ears.

"Artica! We cannot stay outside, c'mon!" he yelled, but got no reply, reaction, or acknowledgement. Fenrir frowned, now understanding what Bud meant. This was a much deeper fear than dogs. He took Artica's hand, pulled her up, and dragged her along as he ran.

Fenrir slammed open the door to his house. One of XXXX's staff members was nearby, reading the newspaper like he owned the place. "YYYY, prepare a room for our guest, and a few towels, please."

There was an awkward silence. XXXX's staff paid Fenrir little mind, and he did the same. This was the first time in more than a year of knowing of each other's existence that the boy had spoken to him. The man eyed him over the paper, looked at the girl up and down, and grunted.

Even though Fenrir had prepared for resistance, the man went ahead without any further convincing. After a short while, YYYY returned with the towels, and was not impressed when Fenrir pulled Artica along without taking off their dirty boots. He resumed his place reading the newspaper, barely acknowledging the quiet 'thanks' Fenrir whispered.

The boy guided her to the room next to his and let her sit on the bed while he closed the curtains. Since Artica seemed to be in a kind of shutdown, Fenrir did his best to dry her braid a little while pulling off her soaked jacket. Immediately, after wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, he noticed her trembling. It was honestly a pitiful sight; the terrified mouse before him felt like someone’s sick joke of the cheerful and energetic person he had grown to care about. Fenrir somehow got her boots off and gently nudged her to rest her back against the bed’s wooden header.

When a particularly strong thunder roared outside, the Black let out an audible whimper and immediately grabbed onto the closest thing to her, which happened to be him. Artica was breathing so fast, Fenrir feared she was going to faint. With a fist full of his shirt, she started shaking heavily.

Fenrir grabbed the hand on his chest and laid it flat with his own. Then, putting his arm around her, lowered his voice. “It’s alright. I’m here with you. You aren’t alone."

He breathed in and out very slowly. "Match my breathing rhythm; you can do that, right?"

Artica did not answer, her eyes tightly shut. A few tears rolled down her cheeks. Fenrir hugged her closer and gently encouraged her to follow his lead. "Breathe in, breathe out. Evenly. Without rushing. Together, just like that."

This was only achieved once the thunder had ceased. By the time Artica fully realized it, her head was resting against Fenrir's chest. It was soothing, and comforting, in a way she had not felt in a while. Was it alright to wish for this to last a little bit longer? Was it okay to think he did not mind?

His chin was gently resting on the top of her head. Fenrir could feel himself at peace and realized at once why it was. He knew etiquette required him to apologize for his forwardness and whatever, but he didn't want to. Apologize for something that felt nice? Which seemed to be alright with her?

Eventually, they both realized that unless a certain thing was said, they could not remain like that. Slowly, without a word, they pulled apart.

In that silence, their hearts ached, but out loud, neither said why.

x+x+x+x+x+x+x

A day had passed, and he was honestly not expecting to see Artica standing outside the gate. She hadn’t ringed the buzzer yet; Fenrir only went to check because Ging had been circling outside his window door for a while. They both suddenly felt all their feelings merge in an incomprehensible hot pile, and a slight blush brightened their cheeks.

“H-hey,” she greeted sheepishly. “I wanted to… uhm…”

Rummaging through her bag, Artica pulled out a paper bag full of homemade chocolate chip cookies. Fenrir’s favorites. “Thank you, for your kindness…”

The boy received the heavy bag, speechless. She fidgeted with the end of her sweater sleeves. “I've always been afraid of thunder and struggle a lot when there's a storm. You didn’t have to welcome me into your home, and keep me company during that episode, so… I really appreciate it.”

Acting against his better judgment, Fenrir walked over and gave her a tight hug. “I'm sorry, I wish I'd known beforehand. You were nervous all afternoon, but I didn't understand why. I’m glad I was helpful, even if just a little.”

She hugged back, just as tightly. “It was more than enough. I made those cookies to thank you, I hope they're alright.”

They let go of each other; yearning for more, but unable to say it out loud. At least, not yet. Artica made a short bow his way. “I’ll return the hoodie you lent me another day. I forgot to bring it.”

“No problem, don’t worry about it,” he said, reaching inside the bag and taking a bite off a cookie. “Oh, these are really good, thanks a lot!”

The girl gave him a smile, her cheeks now bright red. She waved goodbye and returned home. Once back in her room, she pulled out a hoodie from her bag. Artica had promised herself to return it, but in the end gave in to one selfish wish. The smell of Fenrir's citric cologne comforted her, especially after yesterday's events and, at least for now, she wanted to hang onto it.

Fenrir sat outside his room. He gave Ging a hug, borrowing his face in the fur. “It must be true, right? That these feelings echo in her? That it would be okay?”

Ging did not have an answer.

 XXXXXXXXX

(1) First day of Harpa, first month of the Norse calendar (mid-April to mid-May). A day to celebrate the beginning of summer and the victory of light over darkness.

(2) A celebration of new beginnings and preparation of the land for planting (beginning of February).

Source: 

https://www.timenomads.com/the-norse-wheel-of-the-year-viking-calendar-holidays/

#AAAU #AU #fic #AA!Fenrir #AA!Artica #AA!Bud #AA!Syd #AA!Karianne #AA!Ruri #hejne #ritva #paolo #baldrek #sannfrid #tilda #ulrich #paulfrid #ging #scumbag10aniversario #scumbag10au #eng

[unladyboss]

USING RICHIE AS EXPOSITION:SYDNEY PART 2

The Relationship Sydney has with Richie parallels the one Sydney's dad

Now hear me out

I for one was not a fan of Richie. My stomach always turned when he was on screen. To be honest, I thought he was biased against Syd because she was a blk woman.

The show runners don't do random. They use our dislike of Richie for exposition. So we won't really see what they are saying if we skip through his scenes or think he's just obnoxious because his character is just insufferable.

So here we go

From day one at The Beef Richie's and SYDNEY'S relationship has been a little contentious, even though it was not OUTRIGHT HOSTILE. He'd call her sweetheart, especially when he had to use his gun so there was a HINT of affection.

Because of Emmanuel's (Syd's dad) sobriety journey, Syd and his relationship was probably contentious for years.

We know this because he confirmed on friend and family night. Having brought a man who seemed to be his sponsor and telling them he doesn't drink.

Why was it contentious? Because at some point he realised that Sydney wanted to change things.

She probably had to babysit him for years

Make sure he was doing the things he was supposed to be doing, like going to the store and getting the right caulk, or not stealing amperage from the neighbors.

It was probably tense most of the time

They probably had a big showdown or dust up where he hit rock bottom (parallels Syd stabbing Richie)

Where he probably deserved what he got (parallel with what Carmy said after he got stabbed and Richie confirming that yes, maybe he deserved it)

I'm going to examine (in another post) what Sydney said to Richie during their quarrel in the review episode because that would definitely parallel her feelings toward her own father, who didn't seem like he was doing a good job with life or parenting his only daughter.

So it was contentious

Till Richie went to rehab/FORKS RESTAURANT and changed. (Her dad is probably in AA still)

The relationship was different

Nicer

Sweeter

She could rely on him

And he had the confidence to know she could do it.

Emmanuel was probably fairly critical of Sydney in the past, not understanding why she wanted to cook etc. But finally as with Richie...

#the bear #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #richie jerimovich #emmanuel adamu #sydney carmy #sydcarmy

[ddarker-dreams]

LOCK YOU'RE GONNA REPLAY SOV??? I have to know who your fav is, Sov is my absolute favorite fire emblem game...

AA SYD i know you love your boy python... anyone who enjoys shadows of valentia is a true intellectual. it's criminally underrated. this song absolutely SLAPS i memorized all the lyrics and sing like my life depends on it. i got hit with the urge to play a fire emblem game and decided to go with this one, since i poured enough hours into three houses for the time being hjtkegmr

as for my favorite character... goodness. that is a difficult question. i'd have to say clair??? she is an absolute queen and i adore her, she has some of the best character development imho. i also really like kliff, mathilda, mae, and genny. the girls in this game really popped off. the english voice acting was actually crazy good and i was aback by how much i enjoyed it . i was disappointed by no dual audio at first but i was a fool. a real chump. the performances were top notch.

#I AM THE EARTH I WILL MAKE YOU STROOOOOOOOOOOOONG #answered #watch-out-for-them

[llycaons]

the bear ep3

well this is a fucking mess and I am feeling the pressure because we’re in syd’s pov now

right in the beginning carmy was unfair by letting richie shout and swear all over the place but coming down hard on syd when she did the same thing wtf

I don’t think it was fair of carmy to give her this massive job right out of the gate either...nobody else could have done it but carmy just abandoned her to explain it and implement it herself

why sabotage syd’s stock?

ohhh it’s hazing they’re hazing her. that’s so fucked up

the majority of the crew is still fairly underdeveloped compared to carmy, syd, and richie...shame

I cannot even describe how little I am interested in a story about addiction that relies so heavily on AA. can we please branch out.

this is so stressful I feel like crying. this change needed more time and more support and more of a transition period and more explanation. they can’t all change their habits overnight

also transitioning to a hierarchy when there was previously none is...rough

AND syd looks really young, maybe early 20s - suddenly being put in this position, it’s an impossibility

also idk how much control carmy has over richie’s role in the restaurant but that dude has GOT to shut the fuck up

sorry to say but he does look like ad*m dr*ver here

oh shit he’s an android man yes legend

I regret writing this all before finishing the episode bc SYD LITERALLY SAYS IT ALL. GO TELL HIM. it was unfair what he did to her and it wasn’t working for anyone

well. hopefully this means next episode things will be better. right? right?

#the bear lb

[postsofbabel]

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#posts of babel

[engineergutierrez]

have you seen GUILLERMO “WILLIAM” GUTIERREZ around the crash site? we’re trying to make sure they’re still alive after the crash! according to the manifesto, HE is a 30-year-old CISGENDER MAN. i hear they’re known for being an ENGINEER. WILLIAM is also known to be ADAPTABLE & LYRICAL yet also GREEDY & SMUG at times. we have a couple questions for WILL when we find HIM, we heard something about a secret they might have? such as THEY ARE A RECOVERING ALCOHOLIC!

basics...

full name: guillermo gutierrez

nickname(s): william, will, memo, willy & g-man (nsfw meaning)

preferred name(s): william is the english translation of his birth name; any variation is fine.

birthdate: may 25, 1969

age: 30 years old

gender: cisgender man

pronouns: he/him/his

sexual orientation: straight

birthplace: río piedras, san juan, puerto rico

hometown: san francisco, ca

ethnicity: latino/puerto-rican

nationality: american

physical appearance...

faceclaim: josh segarra

height: 5′ 11″

eye color: blue

hair color: brown

weight: 175 lbs

dominant hand: ambidextrous

personality...

positive traits: lyrical, magnanimous, realistic, adaptable, clever, confident, & smooth talker

negative traits: greedy, wise-ass, smug, & lustful

mbti: ESTP-A — The Entrepreneur

astrological sign: taurus

hobbies: singing, guitar playing, hiking, rock-climbing, wood-working & fishing

handy habits: can build random things out of crap & is generally good with electrical components

bad habits: sleeps around too much, drinks too much, inappropriate jokes, & stays up too late

bio...

—Guillermo Gutierrez’s birth parents were madly in love, but sadly they were not meant to be together. Guillermo’s birth mother was a well known as a singer in Puerto Rico. His mother had an affair with someone she worked with closely—exactly who this was has always been a mystery. Guillermo was born in secret and put up for adoption. He never knew either of his birth parents. He was adopted by two young Californians and would go on to have a have a very spoiled and happy childhood. —He showed promise of a bright future. And because of his upbringing and roots, Guillermo would attend some of the best schools in California. He took a special interest in learning how to build things and take them apart to learn how they function. While at school, he also nurtured his love for singing. Aside from English, he’s fluent in Spanish and Portuguese. —It was at the ripe age of 20 when things would start to spiral downwards for him. It wasn't noticeable at first. His first drinking binge in college was quick and harmless to everyone but him. The binges gradually increased— shockingly enough, they never affected his work. It was almost as if his best work came out when he was drunk. He became dependent on booze and when graduation came, it became apparent to everyone that something needed to be done. —His birth parents staged an intervention and signed him into a rehab facility to detox. Will would attempt to break out a few times, but fail each time. He stayed the mandatory month to get clean and then started attending his AA meetings outside. His family was really supportive. And for a time, it seemed like things were looking brighter. —That is until he boarded a plane from SFO to SYD on New Years' Eve....& it crash landed onto a mysterious island.

other...

—syfy timeline: ( coming soon )

—headcanons: can be found ( here )

—playlist: ( here )

#syfy.intro #( headcanon. ) #drinking cw #alcohol tw #drinking tw #alcohlism