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hbdttg · 1 year

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“Hold the elevator!”

The elevator doors are mere inches from closing, but Steve dutifully shoots a hand out to stop them. They slide back open, revealing a flustered-looking man about Steve’s age on the other side.

He’s dressed head to toe in black, decked out in a simple black pullover with a modest V-neck, snug black jeans, and all-black leather Chucks with a messenger bag slung across his chest. The messenger bag is, unsurprisingly, also black, but covered in a collection of tough-looking patches and pins in varying shades of—well, it’s mostly red, dark red, white, and some yellows, but the pops of color still stand out against his otherwise monochrome ensemble.

His dark, curly hair reaches a little past his shoulders and he’s got this frankly outdated fringe that, despite its very 80’s vibe, frames his face perfectly. His eyes are large and expressive, and he’s got this frantic energy about him that reminds Steve of a live wire. He’s nothing like the buttoned-up suits Steve usually shares his elevator rides with each morning, and it’s a refreshing change of pace.

The man gives Steve a thankful look before stepping into the elevator and leaning against the side wall. “Thanks,” he says, a little distractedly. He’s got a pair big of headphones on and Steve realizes he’s in the middle of a phone call when he adds, “No, not you, Gare, I was thanking the guy who held the elevator for me. Yeah, this building’s crazy. There’s a whole-ass sixtieth floor—guess I’m kind of a big deal now.” He lets out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, reaching for the panel beside him.

As the doors close and the elevator starts to slowly ascend, Steve notices the man pressed the button for the floor above his. Both the fifty-second and fifty-third floor buttons are lit in a halo of green.

“You know I didn’t want to leave you guys,” the man continues, a bit more quietly now that he and Steve are sharing the same small space, “but shit, I couldn’t turn down the pay.” He scoffs. “Ugh, listen to me, just another cog in the capitalist machine. Man, if high school me could see me now. High school Eddie used to talk big about forced conformity and rising up against the man, and now here I am—”

Steve tries not to listen to the one-sided conversation going on beside him, but it’s difficult when a moment later, he hears his own name.

“—clocking in for my first day at fuckin’ Harrington Hargrove Hagan. The pretentious bastards can’t even shorten it to an acronym or something. God forbid they have to miss out on the sound of their own names.”

Steve manages to hold in the obnoxious snort that threatens to escape him. He’s starting to think he might like this guy—Eddie, his mind supplies helpfully—but Eddie’s next words have him freezing in place.

“And it’s nepo baby central. Yeah, pretty sure all the H kiddies are hotshot brokers with the company. All the biggest accounts—gee, I wonder why.”

Steve can feel the back of his neck burning hot with a mixture of annoyance and shame as Eddie cracks a caustic joke about silver spoons and trust funds.

“You’re kidding, one of them works at this branch? Damn, I guess I’ll just keep an eye out for the guy who most looks like he’s got a giant stick up his ass.”

This is quickly becoming the longest elevator ride of Steve’s life. He grits his teeth and stares fixedly at the floor display panel above the elevator doors, watching the numbers climb higher and higher. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight.

“Listen, I should go, but let’s grab a drink at the Hideout later. Cool, see you then. Bye.”

Forty-one. Forty-two.

Eddie removes his headphones and shoves them into his bag, angling slightly toward Steve. “Sorry about that, man.”

“You’re good,” Steve says shortly, not looking away from the changing numbers. They reach the forty-seventh floor, and all the while, he feels Eddie’s gaze on him.

It’s not like he’s openly staring, but there’s a certain weight to his furtive glances that completely counteracts his attempts at subtlety. It’s the type of gaze Steve’s familiar with, one that he’s been on the receiving end of since his sophomore year of high school when he hit a growth spurt and actually learned how to style his hair. Assessing. Appreciative. Interested.

And in any other situation, Steve would gladly engage. He’d turn on the charm, quirk the corner of his lip up in that way Robin always rolls her eyes at but reluctantly acknowledges as ‘passably effective’, and maybe even make up an excuse to sidle a bit closer.

But he’s not giving this guy his A-game.

Instead, Steve waits in stifling silence until the fifty-second floor is announced and the doors slide open. He steps forward to exit, but at the very last moment stops in the doorway.

He initially wasn’t going to say anything—though, a past version of himself would have definitely spat something biting and bitchy to Eddie about his snark, would have snootily told him to take his little assumptions and shove them where the sun don’t shine—but sooner or later Eddie’s going to realize he and Steve are colleagues, and he’s going to remember shit-talking him in an elevator on his first day of work, and it’s going to be awkward and uncomfortable.

Steve’s just speeding up the timeline, pushing for the sooner rather than the later, when he decides to spin around and fully face Eddie.

“I think you pressed the wrong button,” he says, all sweet and helpful like he’s talking to Dustin’s mom over a sink full of soapy dishes. “Couldn’t help but overhear that you work at Harrington Hargrove Hagan. It’s on the fifty-second floor, not the fifty-third.” Then he takes a small step backward, moving out into the carpeted hallway.

“Oh.” Eddie scrambles for his phone, unlocking it and scrolling quickly until he finds something that has him straightening up and smiling gratefully at Steve. “I guess I remembered it wrong. Thank you.” He pushes away from the wall, takes a step forward to follow Steve out, but then stops dead in his tracks.

Steve gleefully notes the line of Eddie’s gaze, how it lingers at the breast pocket of his shirt, where, clipped to a retractable badge reel, his building keycard hangs. Eddie evidently hadn’t noticed it during the elevator ride up, but he’s certainly fixated on it now.

Perhaps on the abstract yet easily recognizable Harrington Hargrove Hagan logo in the top right corner.

But more likely, based on the positively mortified look growing on Eddie’s face, on the name clearly printed underneath Steve’s photo in bold, black lettering: STEVE HARRINGTON.

Slowly, Eddie drags his eyes back up to Steve’s face. He stares in silence, eyes bugging nearly out of his head, face turning a concerning shade of pink, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and his reaction is extreme enough that a small part of Steve is almost inclined to take pity on the guy and laugh it all off.

Unfortunately for Eddie, a bigger part of Steve thinks Eddie looks kind of cute all red-faced and embarrassed like this. So he glances down at himself thoughtfully before turning his attention back on Eddie. “Wow,” he says with exaggerated astonishment, “now that you mention it, I guess I do look like I’ve got a giant stick up my ass.”

As if on cue, the elevator chimes in warning. The doors begin to close, but Eddie just remains rooted in place with that same wide-eyed, horrified expression.

When it becomes clear he has no intentions of actually exiting the elevator, Steve chuckles and wiggles his fingers in a cheeky little wave. “Welcome to the team,” he says airily, before Eddie’s still-blushing face disappears behind the elevator doors.

/ Now with a Part 2!

#stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #modern office au #corporate steddie au #eddie's in IT #HHH is a commercial real estate firm #but steve's not a hotshot broker he's literally just a guy who makes copies all day or some shit #i personally just want to see all of eddie's baseless assumptions shattered as he gets to know steve #fic writing #hbd #actually i've never read a corporate steddie fic before so if anyone has any recs i'd love to hear them

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jinjeriffic · 3 months

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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5

Part 4

After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.

Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.

“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.

Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.

“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.

Jazz gave him an amused look.

“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.

“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.

“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.

“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.

“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.

There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?

“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.

“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”

Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.

“Duly noted.”

“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”

“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”

Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.

“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”

Jazz gave him a wry smile.

“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”

Tim choked. Jason swore.

“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.

“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.

Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.

“What’s ectoplasm?”

“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”

“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.

“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”

Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.

“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”

“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”

Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.

“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.

Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.

“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”

“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”

“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.

“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”

“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.

“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”

Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”

Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.

“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.

“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”

Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.

“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”

“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”

Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.

“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”

She gave him a sad smile.

“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”

Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.

“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.

“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”

Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.

“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”

Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.

“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”

Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.

Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.

“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”

“Yep.”

“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”

“Sounds like it.”

“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”

Tim groaned.

“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”

“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”

Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.

“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”

Part 6

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #jazz fenton #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#no beta we die like danny #jazz gets to infodump and worldbuild whoo

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savingcrxws · 11 months

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EYES ON FIRE | just pretend

[ next chap ]

synopsis. you and carmen start off on the wrong foot and richie stirs the pot.

word count. 3.5k

warnings. language, hardly proofread but i tried

authors note. lets goooo, this is based off of this headcanon that i would recommend reading before this chapter(kinda treat it as a prologue)--lets get to part one!

"Richie, you dick."

If you had a dime for everytime Richard Jerimovich managed to inconvenience you, you could probably buy the Bean three times over.

But this, this really takes the cake.

“Well if it isn’t our little college graduate here in good ol’ Orleans Street,” Richie cheers, throwing his hands in the air in fake surprise as a smirk rises slowly onto his face. You feel like if you were to glare at the man any harder, you might actually make his head explode.

“What brings you here, sweetheart?”

You take a minute to try to collect yourself before you absolutely blow up in Richie’s face. Carmen stands directly across from you, just behind the bar, dressed in a dirtied white tee stained in a sauce of some kind. He’s very obviously avoiding eye contact with you, leaning over the bar and seemingly very interested in the walls around you.

“If I recall correctly, you asked me to come here, Richie,” you grit out, gripping the tote bag that hangs over your shoulder tighter. You press your lips together before a choice few words slide from between your teeth.

You see Carmen tense up at what you said, shoulders hunching up before dropping almost as quickly. The dirty blonde brings a hand up to his forehead in what you can only assume to be pure disbelief.

You continue. “You called me literally like, two hours ago.”

“Really, me? You sure it wasn’t another Richie? Maybe a Rick?”

“Richie, please don’t piss me off right now. I swear to God–”

A loud slam interrupts the developing argument and nealyr sends you flying out of your skin.

Your eyes dart over to Carmen, whose hands are splayed flat across the span of the bar. His head is tilted down, curls falling to cover almost all of what you could see of his face. He takes a breath before turning his head to look at the older man behind him.

His face is a bright red, angry flush sinking down past the collar of his shirt.

“Richie, you motherfucker,” he grits out, dragging a hand down his mouth before slamming his fist on the bar counter, rattling the plates and miscellaneous cups that littered across it. Richie tenses up behind him, catching on to the anger almost radiating off of him.

"Why the fuck would you invite her here?" Carmen yells, speaking of you like you weren't only a couple feet away from him. You frown, insulted at his disregard of you.

"Oh believe me, I hardly am jumping to be here myself, Berzatto." You spit.

Richie raises his hands in defense, taking a step back as Carmen bucks up towards him. “Hey, man, don’t shoot the messenger.” He casts a stray hand in your direction and Carmen’s eyes instinctively follow, making eye contact for the first time since you entered the restaurant.

The heat of his stare was strong, something that you could best describe as a blend of anxiety and anger. You notice that his eyes trail up and down your form, not in a "checking you out way" and more of a "I cant believe you're here right now" way.

“Bug usually never responds to my messages! Honestly, how was I supposed to know she would now,” Richie continues, still trying to maintain distance away from Carmen.

Carmen seems overwhelmed, split between jumping at Richie for his fake naivete or running a million miles away from you. He curls his hands into fist, and for a second, you think he's going to throw a punch. Quickly though, Carmen steps away from Richie and casts one more look towards you.

You wait for him to say something to your face, but he doesn't.

“I’m leaving,” Carmen mumbles under his breath, taking in another deep breath before abruptly turning and throwing open the kitchen door. The swinging door flies out and hits the wall, a sudden crack that you are sure would leave a dent later. Almost immediately, you hear the sound of distant bustling and pans clattering around.

A voice yells out in confusion. “What the hell, Jeff?”

You bring a hand to your forehead, feeling a headache incoming. It couldn’t have been more than three minutes and simply being around Carmen had given you more stress than you’ve had in the past week. Casting a glance up at Richie, you give him a final glare. The man simply shrugs his shoulders and gives a charismatic grin. “Well, that was pleasant wasn’t it, bug?”

“Ayo, Richie, what the fuck is up with Jeff,” a voice questions as they walk in from the path of destruction that Carmen left in his behind. The owner of that voice is none other than Tina, and for some reason, seeing her alleviates at least some of the headache you feel pulsating across your skull. Tina casts a confused glance at Richie, who simply points over in your direction. Tina’s eyes follow and when she makes eye contact with you a familiar smile drapes across her lips.

"Oh, well now I understand why Jeff's so pissed off."

"Yeah, and then the asshole has the nerve to act all coy, like he didn't blow my phone up with messages begging me to go down to the restaurant," you complained, throwing your head back to take another gulp of the wine in your cup.

In front of you, Sugar swirled her own glass of sparkling grape juice, shaking her head in disbelief at the absurdity of it all.

Shortly after Tina had walked out, you had left the restaurant (not before flipping Richie the bird) and immediately went to text Sugar for a rant session. Being the absolute angel that she is, she agreed almost immediately, stating that she had some qualms she wanted to rave about as well. Two glasses of Merlot for you and some non-alcoholic beverages for Natalie later, you two were sitting on the two ends of Sugar's couch, the TV playing a rerun of Selling New York as background sound for your current conversation.

"Yeah, Richie is a jerk." You nod in appreciation for her understadning your annoyance.

"And don't even get me started on you-know-who's reaction? He barely even acknowledged my existence!" You throw your free hand in the air. "Speaking about me like I wasn't right there?"

You release an exasperated sigh. "The ego on that guy."

Natalie hums, taking a languid sip of her drink. "Well, that sounds like Carmy alright. A tiny little ball of asshole-ery at any given point of time." The blonde reaches a hand over and places it on your knee. "Sorry my brother is such a dick."

You give a small smile at Sugar, resting your own hand on top of hers. "No need, it's clear you took all the 'sane person' genes in the Berzatto bloodline." Your joke pulls a giggle out of Sugar, the slight truth of her statement not missing between the two of you.

"But enough about me," you place your glass down on her coffee table before continuing. "What's going on in your life Nat?"

You listen as she rants about the stress of preparing for a bringing baby into the home. She talks about how those Al-Anon meetings she regularly attends are going, and how her one coworker Bryson seems to have a vendetta against her.

After a moment, Natalie coughs slightly, eyes darting across the living room in thought before returning back to you. "And well, I hate to keep talking about Carmy but..."

The smile drops quickly off of your face as Sugar trails the last word. "But what, Suge?"

"Buttt, Carmen's trying to rebuild The Beef," Sugar peers down into the contents of her glass as she speaks, "he's rebranding it as The Bear, and I've been trying to help him and the crew get everything sorted before they start tearing the building down."

You press your lips together tight at the mention of the familiar name.

"Personally, Carm, I don't see much wrong with the restaurant now?"

"The place is held together by a roll of duct tape and a dream, bug, I don't think you have to look very hard to see some issues."

You glance up at him from your position on his chest, looking as he gazed up at the ceiling of your bedroom. While his gaze was physically directed at the old glow in the dark stars scattered across the ceiling, you could tell his head was in a total different world.

"So you want to start a new restaurant?" You question, watching as Carmen shakes his head as soon as the words leave your lips.

"Nah, I just want to make it better, ya know? For Mikey, and Sugar, and Ma."

Sugar, noticing you are distracted, stops her sentence and gives a little frown, watching as your gaze drifts off somewhere distant.

Despite the years that have past, she knows that you still have feelings towards her brother. She was there for most of it, watching as you and Carmen went from daily hangouts to a weekly phone call, to a monthly check-in text, to, well, nothing.

She consoled you through most of the grieving phase of a post-breakup, like you had done for her a couple of times before. And after a few weeks of busting into tears anytime his name was mentioned, you began to heal, and focused those strong emotions towards improving yourself.

Natalie let a wistful sigh, pulling you out of your thoughts. Shaking the fog away, you give a remorseful smile at having basically cut Sugar off midway through her spiel. She gives you another small smirk before shaking her head, dismissing your silent apology with a wave of her hand. She draws another sip of her sparkling juice.

"But Carmen has been driving me up the wall with all the shit he wants me to help juggle. If I schedule one more appointment I might pull my hair out."

"Oh no, please don't do that, honey," Pete calls out from the kitchen, very obviously having been listening in on your gossip time from the kitchen table. Sugar gives off slight grimace at Pete's abrupt callout at her obvious exaggeration, shrugging her shoulders and giving a placating call back towards her husband.

Reaching back towards the table, you grab the wine glass from earlier. "Do you have anyone to help you? You know I have some connects who can manage the money and strategy end?" You offer, more than willing to alleviate some of the stress from your friend's shoulders.

"Yeah, can I have that guy who assisted you when you managed La Raison?" Sugar teases. "I have no idea how you managed to help that business go from near bankrupt to one of the best sellers down Michigan Avenue."

"Carter? Yeah, no. That dude was an asshat. He was more useful kissing up to the store owners than actually doing his job," you shake your head at the mention of one of your old employers. Since graduating, you had taken into strategic and financial management for businesses across Chicago. La Raison had been one of your main businesses for a while, the owners soon becoming close friends of yours.

You loved what you did, though business management sounded like a right pain to most, you found joy in being able to rub your braincells together and actually make a difference. Plus, the pay wasn't too bad either.

Sugar chuckles. "Yeah, well, I wish I could just have you as a little angel on my shoulder, giving me all the answers to all of these problems that keep popping up."

Though she was joking, you can see the way her brows furrow simply thinking of all of the things that she has to do. You could only imagine the stress she is under right now. Balancing opening a new restaurant with her ever-present family dilemmas, and a baby on the way?

Natalie was beyond used to extensive stress, so you know she won't verbally express all of her worries. But the thought of Sugar carrying all of that on her shoulders draws a slight frown on your face.

Before you know it, the thoughts are falling from your brain and past your lips.

"What if I helped you manage the place."

You honestly do not know why you offered to help manage this fuckery that is disguised as a restaurant.

Shortly after you had offered to help, it was as if Natalie had died, saw the light, and returned back to Earth. She squealed like a teenage girl and thanked you profusely. While she shaked you and explained all the things that needed to be done, you slowly began to realize the implications of your offer.

You, helping Natalie manage Carmen, your ex-boyfriend's, restaurant. A responsibility that would obviously take months.

And honestly, you were tempted to withdraw your offer despite the happy squeals of relief that Natalie was letting out. That was, until the tears of relief started pouring from her eyes.

Those pregnancy hormones really guilt tripped you.

Now, a week later, you're back at The Beef. Well, you suppose The Beef is gone officially now, the rusting sign pulled down from its former position hanging above the restaurant entrance.

"Why the hell did I sign up for this shit," you question out loud, watching as Manny and Angel pulling out a broken sign from inside the restaurant. Sighing, you reach into your bag and pull out a cigarette box, pulling one out before digging for your lighter in your back pocket.

"Mami, what are you doing here?" You turn around at the voice behind you, cigarette hanging loosely from your lips. Tina stands behind you, a smile stretched across her lips. "Seeing you two weeks in a row? Someone must be dying."

You smile, opening your arms for a hug that Tina reciprocates. "Oh you know, I'm here to save your asses from complete and utter failure." Tina gently pats your back as you pull apart, and it makes you regret not checking in on her and the rest of the crew more often.

"Missed you, T." You mutter, a small grin pulling up on one corner of your mouth.

"Missed you too, mami," Tina pats your arm before wrapping her hand around your elbow. "Now, I'm not trying to step on your toes but...you do know who your helping out right?"

You grimace at her implication, the reality hitting you once again. Behind those glass windows stands the man who took your heart and literally tossed it away like it was nothing. Took all of those years that you had spent together and wasted it away.

Broke up with you over fucking text.

And now, you're about to walk into his restaurant and help Sugar, and, consequently, help him fix this fuck up.

Talk about fate.

"Yeah, T," you start, letting her guide you towards the entrance of the restaurant, where you see Marcus and Fak carrying out some lockers. You wave towards the men, to which Fak responds with such enthusiasm that he drops some of the lockers on the ground, much to Marcus' chagrin.

You grimace before continuing. "Just helping my asshole ex because his sister is my bestie."

Sugar had texted you that Sydney, Carmen's former sous chef and business partner, had been more than happy to hire you as a strategic manager for the business. Although she didn't mention it, you knew that a certain dirty-blonde was not so excited at mention of you coming to help.

"He knows we need the help, no matter how fragile his tiny little ego is," Natalie had told you, a knowing smile on her face.

"Don't lose your head, boss." Tina teases, pushing you first through the doorway. As you finally enter the store, you take note of the pure chaos that is the restaurant.

Plywood and debris scattered across the flower, miscellaneous kitchen supplies and utilities lining the walls. Ebraheim and Sweeps were taking a sledgehammer to some random panels, while Richie was yelling something from the kitchen. As you take in the madness, Tina pats your elbow before heading back towards the kitchen.

"Welcome to The Bear!" Richie calls out as soon as he notices you. Spreading his arms out in what you assume is a hug, you only offer him a solid stare. Richie drops his arms and heads towards you despite your very clear disdain for him at the moment. "Glad you could join the team, bug."

"Richie, why the hell are you covered in black dust?"

"Inconsequential, sweetheart," you roll your eyes at his response before stepping over the debris in front of you.

"Where's Nat, Richard," you question walking behind the bar and towards the office in the back. Richie grumbles something under his breath before shouting out 'office.' Busting through the kitchen door, you note that the kitchen is just as messy as the front of the house. Stepping over black dust on the ground, you tread over to the office.

"Suge? You in there?" You call out, peering over the corner and into the office. The room is unoccupied, filled with nothing but discarded papers with miscellaneous phone numbers and sprawled writings.

You make note of what you know to be Nat's handwriting, eyes trailing over all of her notes for appointments and scheduling. Your eyes also rove over the chicken scratch that you also know to be Carmen's scribbles. Placing your bag down on the desk, you sit down in the rolling chair and decide to wait for Sugar to come in.

You grabbed a random pile of papers and attempted to digest some of the information being presented to you.

Bank statements, IRS requests, insurance, licenses, permits.

Judging by all the shit that needed to get cleared just for the restaurant to legally be open, your surprised that Mikey wasn't being physically chased down by the IRS and thrown into jail.

"Hey, Sugar, Syd and I are going to work on the chaos menu tonight so I'm going to leave the rest up to you, okay?"

Carmen slings around the corner, too focused on pulling his coat on his shoulders to notice who exactly was sitting in the office.

Instinctively, you freeze at his sudden appearance in the doorway, breath caught in your throat. At the lack of response, Carmen finally looks up and makes direct eye contact with you.

His blue eyes widen, clearly not expecting you to be the person in the chair. You rack your brain over the next move to make, the silence continuing as he just stands in the doorway and practically gawks at your existence.

Deciding that staring indefinitely at each other was probably one of the worst things you can currently think of, you clear your throat to break the silence. That seems to break Carmen out of whatever state of shock he seemed to be in; you watch as he awkwardly wrings his hands, like he was at a lost of what to do next.

You're half-expecting him to make a repeat of the last time you saw each other and storm away from you. However, Carmen just stands there, eyes darting from you to random objects in the office then you again on repeat.

Both of you are waiting for the other to say something. To yell, chastise, and start an argument.

Biting the bullet, you start. "Hey, Carmen."

He seems to be taken aback that you even uttered his name, eyes meeting yours once again. You almost forgot how blue his eyes are-so bright that they're almost clear.

He nods in acknowledgement before saying your name to greet you in return.

Awkward silence fills the room once again. While you know that Carmen is hardly a conversationalist, this has to be the most painful quiet you've ever experienced.

Be amicable, you think to yourself. He's your boss/business partner now.

You're doing this for Sugar.

"Umm..," you trail off, eyes scanning the office around you in attempts to find something else to talk about. "I tried to find Nat, but she might have gone A.W.O.L"

Carmen nods his head a couple of times, a soft hmm leaving his lips. You can tell that he wants to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue but sealed behind his lips.

"Yeah, ok-okay, yeah." He nods rapidly, crossing his arms across his chest, lowering his gaze down to your shoes.

"Yep."

God, someone shoot me now.

Carmen clears his throat. "I-I-uuhh, you know, Sugar really appreciates the help."

You nod, licking your lips out of habit. "Yeah, she's told me."

"Yeah?"

"Yep."

Just when you were about to figure out a way to turn invisible or sink into the floor, Sugar rounds the corner and lightly bumps into Carmen's back. She lets out a noise of surprise from her throat and Carmen jerks forward a little.

"Carmy, why the fuck are you standing in the fucking doorwa-" Sugar cuts herself off when she spots you over her brother's shoulder. She makes eye contact with you and you swear you see a little mischief in her eyes. She pushes past Carmen to step inside of the office, crossing her arms over chest to assess the room.

You, sitting in the office chair, papers still grasped tightly in your hands and your lips practically licked dry from your nerves.

Across, Carmen stands angled towards Sugar, almost trying to physically minimize the amount of eye contact you two share.

Natalie surmises that she just saved the both of you from a very awkward moment "Oh, shit. Didn't mean to interrupt."

"No-no, uh, you're good, Sugar," Carmen sputters out, face flushing a bright red. He brings a hand over his mouth to physically stop the word vomit that was about to fall out of it. "Umm, was just gonna tell you that Sydney and I are leaving to work on the new menu."

Sugar's eyes dart over to you again, sitting stiffly in the office chair. She raises her eyebrows in question but you subtly shake your head.

Let's not talk about it right now.

She nods in acknowledgement before turning to fully face Carmen.

"Okay Carmy, you're good to go. Me and Bug here are just gonna get some paperwork sorted." Carmen looks in your direction at the use of the familiar nickname before he hmms again.

He takes a step back and waves his hand in goodbye. "All right, bye Sugar," he's fully outside of the doorway now, but he pauses before leaving you and Sugar's line of sight completely.

He stands there for a beat, running whatever thought across his mind a couple times. Finally, like he settled on an answer, Carmen gulps and raises his head to look at you.

He nods his head and whispers out your name and a goodbye, followed by a swift exit out of the kitchen.

You're practically stuck in the chair, the past five minutes having been a complete whirlwind. The kitchen door whips against the wall in a crack, the squeaking echoing from your place in the office. Your gaze is still focused on where your ex-boyfriend had stood not even a couple of seconds ago.

"Well," Sugar starts, a knowing smile across her face. "That wasn't as violent as I thought it was going to be."

requests to be in the taglist for this fic in the replies below or send me an ask! thank you all for reading!

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic #the bear x reader #the bear fx #jeremy allen white x reader #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #the bear season 2

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aachria · 26 days

Text

The long awaited (maybe? Idk how many of you were waiting for this) SSSBMTY College AU!

Majors in bold

Headcanons in regular text

Notes about the art indented in orange

Luffy — Undeclared

Was forced into school by his gramps. (The university dean. The fucking dorm building all the Strawhats but Jimbei live in is named after him.)(it was this or join the navy.) Takes the most random classes he can. Some of them are advanced and require perquisites and no one knows how he keeps getting into them. Wears shorts and sandals in winter & will run any errand or do any odd job for food. He has a very nice bike he got for free from a garage sale that Franky fixed up. There's a campus wide bet on when and what he'll choose as his major. His bucket hat was a gift from Shanks, the universities World Economics prof. Has a million friendship bracelets on his ankles because Ed makes them when they're stressed. Never has a bag on him. Fights Canadian geese on the way to class, like a fucking maniac. Protected species who?

When I tell you that this drawing of Luffy is the first time I've ever drawn actual feet with toes that don't look fucking ridiculous I need to cheer for me. Why is he a different flavour of boy every time I draw him please. His ass isn't rubber in this universe, of course he's scuffed to shit. Chopper ran out of Spiderman bandaids, sorry bud. Advocate for the Single Piercing Luffy™ agenda, he went and got it done with Ed when they got their helix.

Ed — English major Psychology minor

Took History of Piracy for easy grades & a story idea. Known around campus as that asshole who'll tell you exactly which of your roommates ate your leftovers for $5. Is roommates with Luffy because of a system mix-up when they got distributed. Always wears a Burberry trench coat Nami thrifted for $3 and gave them as a bday gift. Carries everything in a ratty falling apart messenger bag. Them and Luffy filled out marriage papers on a dare, Zoro (who got legally ordained on a dare minutes before) oversaw that, Zoro and Ed filed the papers when they were drunk. So Ed and Luffy are legally married. And they don't even notice until tax season and Jonah, Ed's accounting friend, asks about it.

I need you to ignore the inconsistence with the hands in these ok? Some of them get very nice and normal hands, and others get weird shaped blobs. Sorry Ed, them's the breaks kid.

Zoro — Health and Fitness major Mathematics minor

Literally no one knows why he has a Mathematics minor, least of all him. P sure he walked into the wrong class on the first day and just stuck with it. The most terrifying captain of the kendo team the university has ever had. He's won more championships and trophies in his tenure than the school has in its history, the revenue he brings in from sponsorships and such make them turn a blind eye to his... eccentricities (three sword style. Nobody has stopped him yet, anyone who says it's illegal gets penalized). Has had campus security called on him so often from being creepy when walking home from the gym in the dark there's a poster of him in the security office that says 'NOT ACTUALLY A THREAT. JUST WEIRD AND WALKS WITH PURPOSE.'

Zoro's sword patch on his jacket was designed by Usopp, embroidered by Luffy for a class (shittily) and fixed up and sewn on by Ed. Those docs have seen war. He has put them through hell. He has walked through a fucking river with those things, he superglues them back together every time they break. Franky had to strongarm him into getting the soles professionally replaced.

Nami — Meteorology major Finance minor

All of her clothes are thrifted designer things. Regularly terrorizes Value Village employees. Anything she has that isn't thrifted she gets from the many estate sales she plagues, snatching grandma's entire Chanel collection and all her nicest jewelry. She has absolutely everything anyone could ever need in her purse. Tampons and pads? She gotchu. Extra pens? It'll cost you, but yeah. A curling iron? Sure, why the hell not. She runs the betting pool on Luffy's major with Ed. She also writes a gossip column for the school newspaper and has a podcast she uploads a new episode to every few months. Shows up to every class looking like a supermodel no matter the time. 7am? Perfect. 10pm? Fabulous. Your go-to if you get locked out of your dorm. Has a moped but barely uses it.

Nami's bag is a large Prada Gallaria Saffiano bag, which I painstaking drew to accuracy down to the colour even though it still looks ever so slightly different, because Nami is a big purse girl. The compass rose necklace was a going away gift from Nojiko when she left for uni. I think her haircut is so cute I love her sm. Don't pay any mind to how fucking disheveled half of their lineart looks next to her pls.

Usopp — Graphic Design major

Not a member of the archery club, but shows up enough he’s in all the team photos. Was originally the designated driver, had a pretty little mini van they called the Merry, had one of those fucking fuzzy dice hanging mirror things in the shape of a sheep’s head. Got in a bad car accident and she got totaled by some jackass in a red Honda Civic. Dating Kaya, who’s a nursing student. They barely see each other because she’s so fucking busy and half the students are convinced the girlfriend Usopp is always talking about and calling is fake. The Strawhats have a dnd campaign that they run every other week, Usopp DM's. On weekends he works at an axe throwing range and holds the record for most bullseyes in a row. They have his picture mounted on the wall.

Usopp's necklace is the old key to the Merry, and he engraved his belt buckle for a project. I cursed his ass with the giant fuck off portfolio bag because those things are so big and unwieldy. The people in his program's studio never clean their paint up properly, that's why he's covered in it. Advocate for the Usopp With Gages™ agenda. God he is such a cutie patootie.

Sanji — Business degree

Literally grew up working in a restaurant, he’s only going to school to get the degree so he can open his own and also because Zeff threated to castrate him if he didn't get a higher education. Cooks basically every single meal for the dorm, since it’s just the Strawhats (it's a new (old it's old and was refurbished. Everyone assumed it was haunted.) building that they just dedicated to Garp. Has no other residents yet). Him and Zoro fight so much in their shared room half the time he ends up kicking him out and making him sleep in the community room lmao. He just shows up in half the culinary classes because he hates the business ones so much, the one time someone tried to tell him to leave he cussed them out for a full ten minutes while gesticulating wildly with a knife in hand. They never tried that again. Saw one of the profs berate a young lady for wearing a dress shirt to class because it’s impractical and proceeded to take that personally. Yeah he wears three piece suits to all his classes, he could still kick you ass in ‘em. Shut up. Volunteers to show around foreign exchange students because he can speak at least 4 foreign languages fluently. Is it to woo pretty French girls with his charm? Wouldn't you like to know.

I could not draw Sanji in a decent pose for the life of me, his ass was just not having it. He's got one of them really nice leather messenger bags with the lined pockets and filigree, he's very proud of it.

Chopper — PreMed

One of the few Strawhats who regularly sees Usopp’s reclusive girlfriend, and is very confused as to why people think she isn’t real. Still a literal child (is 15 still a child? Yeah that's like barely a teenager), a goddamn prodigy and got in with an incredibly good recommendation from the best doctor in the country, who just so happens to be his adoptive mother. He’s literally too cute for anyone to question that, plus he’s the sharpest tack in the damn class. He knocked his front tooth out ages ago (it was an adult tooth) but he's too fucking busy to get an appointment to get it fixed, just adds another layer to his babyface. Nice girls keep asking him if he's here to go see his parents or older siblings, he's endlessly infuriated by it and Sanji is endlessly jealous. Saved Ed from choking to death in a Domino's parking lot the first time they met, he dropped his pizza doing it so they bought him another. The rest is history. Does not feel cold, wears chunky boots year round. Got them reflective ass eyes like a deer, no one has ever taken a good picture of this child. He looks fucking possessed in his school ID.

TELL ME WHY I ALMOST FORGOT TO DRAW CHOPPER. I finished drawing Franky and was like "gee, only Brook and Jimbei to go! Good for me," and then I had to pause while looking as the picture of the group I was semi-referencing for heights n shit and was like "OH FUCK THE CHILD—" He's so cute tho. He's giving lil baby Goro Akechi. The argyle sweater vest and Timbs were a must, so was his hockey boy haircut. Matching backpack and tie for the win. Oh and the freckles, Chopper with freckles is everything to me.

Robin — Has a million hyper specific degrees. Currently earning her third doctorate.

Very mysterious and sexy. Mature student who occasionally gives lectures in the archeology program when she has free time. Owns a motorcycle but barely rides it. How is she not in debt after so much schooling? Don't fucking ask if you want to live. Is that why she lives in the dorm building? Do. Not. Ask. She and Luffy attend the same Theology class, no one knows how Luffy is passing with such good grades, but Robin is adamant that he doesn't take notes or borrow hers, and takes to having the same scores as him with grace. Child actor on one of those show like Barney (but not Barney dear lord) or Reading Rainbow and people only knew her as 'that kid with the creepy fuckin stare.' She was a meme a few years back, they called her the devil child. Every time someone asks her about it she just says she has no idea what they're talking about while giving them the creepy stare.

Women with Big Bags truther, right here. Robin deserves to be put in a suit. Goddamnit, get that woman in a suit!

Franky — Has a bachelors of Engineering, a bachelors of Architecture, and is earning his (water specific) Architecture degree

Currently the groups designated driver (after the tragic death of the poor Merry) with his supped up SUV, the Sunny. How do all the Strawhats fit inside? The power of love, obviously. That car will NOT fucking move if even one of the seatbelts is undone. Made Ed and Luffy wedding rings after he found out they accidentally got married. (Only after laughing for a half our straight, almost passing out, and laughing again. Then he cried for another hour about how beautiful it was.) He sometimes works as a nude model for life drawing classes on campus. Half of the the Strawhats have, in one way or another, seen him in the buck. Has knee braces from an... incident... with a train when he was younger. Now he volunteers at KidsAbility and has a shift on the campus crisis/suicide hotline. Huge advocate for mental health services at the school. He lives in the dorms for the ✨experience✨. Even worse than Luffy, mf wears booty shorts in the dead of winter. He's constantly dressed like It's laundry day. One of those guys from a famous Vine when he was younger that just gets stopped while he's walking so people can go "TRAMPOLINE VASE GUY??" (Iceberg was recording. I love Iceberg.)

Yes Franky is wearing an I ♥ MILFs shirt, what of it? It was a gift. Drawing him was an exercise in struggling with the pompadour and getting uncomfortably close to drawing Syndrome. Yes, he's cold all the time. No, he will not stop.

Brook — Literally no one knows. Something music related probably.

Fucker has been around forever, there’s old ass profs who swear to god they went to school with him and he hasn’t aged a day. Regularly plays local bars and cafes. Doesn't own a cellphone, he can literally only operate rotary phones. Computers confuse the shit out of him. Knows nothing about pop culture or recent events, but is up to date on everything in the music industry. He sometimes helps organize the old library archives because he's somehow the only person who understands the system they're organized in. Sometimes he'll just namedrop a famous singer/band he's either played with, done karaoke with, or done background vocals/instrumentals for and you have to guess whether he's telling the truth or just saying shit. There's a campus wide betting pool (run by Nami and Ed, go figure) on whether he's a vampire, ghost, time traveler, or Dorian Gray in disguise. Prepares the questions for 70s night pub trivia. Every time the Strawhats plan a ghost hunt he's busy, then at the end they find out that all the paranormal shit they've been experiencing is just him running his errands. It's happened at least four times.

Is Brook off-putting enough? I was trying to make him off-putting. He swears up and down the neck tattoo was gotten on a dare by Elton John, what, you gonna question a man who looks like he stepped out of Coraline? The skeleton gloves were a gift from Ed.

Jimbei — Has already graduated as a Marine Biology major Political Science minor and is taking both a Gender Studies course and a Peace and Conflict Studies course years later.

Teaches martial arts at a local dojo on weekends and volunteers with the martial arts team on campus. Robin helps him organize protests on weekends. He's good buds with a lot of the faculty and gets invited to after work drinks regularly. He helped establish a program that walks people who stay late at the library to their dorms when he was first a student that's still going strong to this day. Lives off campus and has the Strawhats over for BBQ on long weekends. Literally the only time the Strawhats eat food not made by Sanji. The Grill Master™. Somehow holds some kind of record or high score at every single bar/pub in town. Knows every single mailman and janitor by name. MVP of the catch and release fishing club, helps plan all of their trips.

I struggled with him. I struggled hard. That's a man who went his whole childhood with a horrendous underbite and only got it fixed once he was an adult. Ed gave him the fishing lure earrings out of guilt after he brought them on one of his fishing trips and they fell in and nearly capsized their boat. IT'S A REUSED PLASTIC BAG JIMBEI IS RESPONSIBLE ABOUT THE ENVIRONMENT—

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austinbutlerslovers · 6 months

Text

Major Gale Fantasy Part II

Label Mature 18+

It’s Here! 🏆

I’m Going to Miss You Every Second

(*See Major Gale Fantasy Part 1 )

Summary With Gale training for battle as a war pilot on a military base far away from you in Iowa, his dreams of having you pregnant with his child before he deploys are dwindling. Letter after letter he receives from you revealing there are no signs of pregnancy from your last encounters together. With his hopes dashed and the stress of leaving to war imminent, you both cling to the hope that everything will turn out alright.

*Established relationship married

Descriptions withheld for suspense of the story

Inspo: The incredibly handsome and skilled Major Gale obsessed with impregnating you before he deploys.

Extreme historical inaccuracies, the military workings melted my brain …

Spelling errors repeat words grammatical mistakes but it’s a good plot 🤌🏼enjoy!

Special thanks to @jessica987 ✨ for recommending a follow up 💝

I’m Going to Miss you Every Second

It was a gloomy day on the air force training base in Iowa. Gale was the last returning from a ‘station scramble’ where the men worked to see how fast they could get up in the air and back down to the ground in an emergency attack. As Gale was an expert pilot he went last after all his men had cleared their flights.

As he was landing a giant streak of lighting cracked across the expanse of sky above him “holy hell” he said his voice modulated by the oxygen mask. It vanished followed by a booming thunder clap that rattled the windows violently rocking the cockpit. The wheels touched down as he pulled the levers decreasing the acceleration of the aircraft bounding down the runway until it slowed to a manageable speed. Sheets of rain began streaking down the windows as he navigated the large craft to store near the hanger.

His heart was still racing as he emerged from the cock pit heavily pelted with cold rain. The sound of the it almost deafening as he was greeted by the crewmen to check and refuel the craft and move it to lodging. One crewman stops to yell over the downpour “We thought you were a goner with that lightning strike!” Gale yells back “Not today! I’ve got too much to live for.” They flash smiles reveling in the camaraderie.

Gale is almost soaked head to toe as he heads the short distance for cover in the gigantic hanger. Some men are waiting at the entrance watching the rain some are sitting at tables playing cards and others are tossing a football back and forth through the giant space.

He shakes himself off as soon as he is saftley shielded under the awning. An officer is standing near the hanger door smoking a cigarette as Gale walks in “Sure is raining cats and dogs today” he says absentmindedly before taking a drag “You know what they say, when it rains it pours” Gale shoots back as he walks to the rear of the hanger. He heads to his locker there and removes his pilot jacket and cap hanging them inside.

Several officers are sitting at a table nearby reading news papers and listening to the radio. All the news papers have catastrophic titles about the war plastered in capitol letters across their front pages, more alarming is the radio loudly blaring information about all the recent bombing raids and attacks occurring.

Gale had been moved from his home base to this training station for 12 weeks now. It was imminent that he and his men were going to war, flying directly to Germany in the coming weeks.

A drill sergeant enters the opposite end of the hanger with a messenger bag he begins yelling the names of several officers until shouting:

“MAJOR CLEVEN GALE”

When Gale hears his name he heads over and collects his stack of letters. Each time he receives mail he hunts through the stack for your letter first, each time his heart drops dismayed not to hear the news that you are pregnant but happy you are doing well.

He walks back over to an empty table near the officers reading the news papers. He shuffles the letters in his hand one by one until he stops on the one with your handwriting his heart skips and he hurriedly sits down dropping his stack of mail infront of him on the table.

He flips your letter over and breaks the seal with his finger ripping it open sliding out and unfolding the piece of paper to read:

_________________________________________________

-Dearest husband,

Here I am darling, I cooked one of your favorite meals tonight, sundried tomato sauce with spaghetti pasta just the way you like it with lots of parmesan on all the meatballs. I can’t wait to cook for you again. I hope you are eating well you must keep your strength.

I miss the sound of your voice and wonder when you’ll return home to me. With just myself here I often think of what you do in your down time. I believe the only thing that compares to the happiness of holding you in my arms again is holding a little bundle of joy. I am writing this time to tell you that you’ll be a father. I am 18 weeks pregnant. Today is the first day the doctor heard the tiny heartbeat and I’m finally beginning to show, I know this means the world to you.

Sending all my lov - - - -

———————————————————————————

Gale doesn’t finish the letter he stands straight up and yells “IM GOING TO BE A FATHER BOYS !” The hanger erupts with loud cheers of all the men whooping and clapping for him. The men in his unit come running and jump on him hugging him slapping his back and congratulating him.

They all begin chanting “FURLOUGH FURLOUGH FURLOUGH ” he yells back “IM CHECKING OUT BOYS!” And starts running to his superiors office to request his furlough to come and see his woman pregnant with his child before he leaves to war.

Constant Cravings

It’s been two days since you wrote the news to Gale that you were expecting. It was already late in the evening, the mailman didn’t have any letters from the military base but you did receive letters from your friends and congratulatory flowers from your parents.

You stare out the window thinking of him wondering if he’s alright, wondering if he even knows. You place your hand on your belly feeling the now firmer underside swelling where the little baby is nestled, you rest your hand there lovingly.

You turn and head to the kitchen still feeling so famished after dinner the only thing you craved were spaghetti and meatballs you were cooking them constantly especially the meatballs with parmesan all over them you couldn’t get enough. You decide that’s what you wanted to eat again.

You bring the skillet out and place it on the counter next to the stove. You strike a match and place it to the igniter, a ring of fire flicks to life under the burner and you place the skillet on top. You pull the container of meat balls you’ve prepared for tomorrow out of the refrigerator and pour olive oil on the skillet before placing them on the hot oiled surface to cook .

You bring out the cutting board, the big wheel of parmesan cheese, and grater. You take a knife and cut a large slice of the Parmesan off returning the rest of the wheel back in the refrigerator and quickly check the meatballs turning them over with a spatula to cook evenly.

You then cut off a few thin pieces of parmesan cheese from the large slice to eat for yourself. You irresistibly pick one up and place it in your mouth on your tongue. It melts deliciously and you savor it before taking another piece and then just one more you crave the saltiness and the texture so much. You turn to check the meat balls they are golden brown you click off the fire.

You finely grate the remaining Parmesan into powder. You rinse off the cheese grater and cutting board setting them in the drying rack.

You set out a plate on the counter and transfer the meatballs over to it from the skillet placing the heavy cast iron into the sink to wash later.

You cover the meatballs in a large mountain of powdered Parmesan snow. When all is complete you stare at them proud of yourself and excited to eat what you crave the most.

You hear the sound of a car pulling up at this late hour the lights from the head beams flashing through the living room. Your brows furrow wondering who it could be you head to the living room looking at the front door when the sudden sound of a key sliding in the lock surprises you.

Your heart stops you stand frozen as the door opens and you blink in disbelief as Gale steps in. He is in uniform wearing his heavy leather brown and black fur lapel jacket. His thick blonde hair slicked with product but still strands fall perfectly against his forehead. He looks stunningly handsome you haven’t laid eyes on him in so long it takes your breath away. His flushed red cheeks and luscious pink lips form into a grin as his striking blue eyes light up with joy upon seeing you.

“C’mere baby” he says with his deep drawl arms open as you come wrapping you tightly in his embrace. He pets your head and kisses the top lovingly, your soft feminine scent driving him wild after being away from you for 3 months.

He’s holding you firm against his chest as you inhale him, he smells like rain and leather and birch bark soap relaxing you instantly making you feel safe in his arms. “I missed you so much Gale” your words softly muffle against his chest. “I missed you too doll “ he says tipping your chin up with his thumb and forefinger to look up at him. You gaze deeply into those big beautiful blue eyes staring right back into yours with all the love and tenderness in the world.

“Kiss me Ga...” you start to say his name as he’s already pressing his soft pink lips against yours. As your eyes flutter closed you feel the sexual charge in him as he’s pushing his lips more passionately against yours. You part your lips wider onto his licking at his tongue coaxing it out, he makes a small moan as he slides it in to taste your sweet mouth.

The sensations of your tongues twirling tantalizes his cock, his length already hardening as he knits his brows wanting to kiss you more but also knowing he needs to come up for air and tell you his news.

He releases you from his kiss and you stare at each other a little out of breath “I got your letter“ he says forming a grin from ear to ear across his handsome face. “They granted me furlough I’ll be here with you all week” you shriek in excitement “I’m so happy you’ll be home with me Gale!” You say cupping his handsome face in your hands.

“ Now…” he says stepping back “let me see my little bun” his eyes are dancing wildly as he peeks down at your stomach unable to contain his excitement any longer. You giggle at the nick-name “here’s your little bun” you say presenting your small round forming pregnancy to him.

A proud smile forms on his face and he immediately kneels down before you, finally reaching his large hand and placing it on your small baby bump. It warms his hand to the touch and melts his heart completely. He carefully places his ear against your womb and closes his eyes.

You look down at him and smile warmly, he’s crouched into you as he kneels because he’s so tall. You place your hand on his head lovingly and stroke your fingers through his gorgeous golden locks. He’s in bliss caressing your womb and whispering to the baby to grow strong for him. He kisses your naval and finally stands up tall gently pulling you to him by your waist.

“I’m so proud of you” he says planting a kiss on your lips “and I love you so much ” he says squeezing your waist on his last word, he stares into your eyes with complete devotion. “I love you too Gale” you say sincerely and place your hand on his chest over his heart as you gaze into each others eye.

Suddenly you remember the task you were performing before he surprised you “Come Gale, I made a little something we can eat, I was so hungry after dinner..I am always hungry now…” you trail off slightly shy to admit. Hes just pinches your cheek adoringly knowing your eating for two. He removes his jacket placing it on the rack near the door and takes your hand as you walk him to the kitchen.

The meatballs are sitting on the countertop in perfect display looking like a photo straight out of ‘The Housewife Magazine’. “I miss this so much” he says wrapping his arms around you from behind pressing his chest to your back and kissing the top of your head. You hold the front of his forearms wrapped around you as an idea forms in your mind.

“What if we eat the in the living room? No silverware, no plates just with our fingers “ you say giddily just wanting devour the meatballs as fast as humanly possible. “Sure thing sweetheart, why don’t you go sit and I’ll bring them over to you ” he says. You agree with a nod and he goes to wash his hands in the sink taking the plate on his way back bringing the meatballs to the living room coffee table.

You sit comfortably on the couch but instead of sitting next to you he kneels in front of you on the living room rug. With the coffee table on his right he turns to pick up a meatball from the pile on the plate and brings it to your mouth. You eat it from his fingers “Mmm” you say enjoying it. He brings you another as you finish chewing the first and then another.

You gently roll your eyes into your head the seasonings the cheesiness the saltiness satisfying the yearning from your stomach completely. He stares at you lovingly knowing that as he’s feeding you it’s for his baby too.

Hes always hungry for your food the meatballs smell delicious he tilts his head up and tosses one in his mouth. The ground meat you used is so succulent he eats several more. You lean forward opening your mouth and he feeds you the last one, the plate now completely empty.

You sit back with a smile on your face and pat your hand on your stomach “Thank you for feeding me Gale that was so unexpectedly sweet“ you say grinning cutely. It reminds him of his present. “I have a surprise for you!” He says squeezing your thigh lovingly as he stands. He takes the dish to the sink and grabs his keys from his jacket heading out to the car to retrieve it.

He returns a moment later carrying a giant teddy bear and a bouquet of roses. Your eyes light up it’s such a beautiful sight to see and he’s so romantic. He shuts the front door with his elbow and smiles as he walks over and kneels infront of you. “For my special girl” he says handing you the large bouquet, “Thank you Gale” your voice high and sweet as you place your hand on your heart to show appreciation.

You accept them and lift the flowers up to your nose instantly getting lost in the powerful scent of fresh red roses. “And for my little bun” he says placing the large teddy bear next to you on the couch. You giggle at the nickname again. He just stares at you now seeing how completely happy you are in this moment.

He places his hand briefly on your knee “I’ll put them in a vase for you ” he says gesturing as you hand over the roses. He heads to the kitchen unwrapping them, finding and filling a clear blue bubbled glass vase.

Placing the roses inside he sits back admiring his work. “Where would you like them” he asks. “There on the table is perfectly fine…” you say absentmindedly staring at the brown crushed velvet teddy bear with a big red silk ribbon on its neck. The first toy you’ve received for your ‘little bun’ is making you emotional.

“Honey how would you like to turn in with me for the night? I’ll shower and we’ll lay together in bed I need to hold you I’ve been missing sleeping with you so much”

“Oh Gale of course” you say realizing he’s been out all day on such a journey to get here and he’s probably so tired.

He comes over and offers you his arm helping you to stand you smile appreciatively. He wraps his arm around yours placing his hand on top walking down the hall to the master bedroom.

Lucky Lightening

He enters with you and gently releases your arm to begin unbutttoning the tight collar of his military shirt, you see him struggling with it as usual and tip toe up against him helping him pry it open. As it unbuttons he breathes a sigh of relief “What would I do without you?” he says flashing a flirtatious grin.

You trail your fingers seductively up his firm chest “You would handle it like the strong capable Major I know you that you are, but Im happy I can be here to assist you” you peek up at him through your lashes and he quickly captures his lips with yours thoroughly enjoying the compliment you gave him.

He pulls back to look you in the eyes “My favorite girl in the whole world” he says and quickly unbuttons down the length of his shirt, he smiles at you appreciatively before heading to the shower. You hear the water turn on through the closed door as you make your way to the vanity table across the room.

You slide your dress off with your brassiere and panties tossing them in the hamper. You grab your soft silk robe from its hook near the vanity placing your arms in leaving the front open loosly tied.

You look at all your creams neatly organized and pick the one labeled vitamin E opening the lid and collecting the cream on your fingers slowly lathering your abdomen. As you are massaging the cream on you stare at your reflection, the glow of the low lighting makes you look radiant you turn to the side wondering how big your belly will get.

You hear the shower turn off and Gale brushing his teeth you smile enjoying the sounds of having him back home. You finish rubbing in the cream sealing the lid as he emerges into the bedroom clicking off the light. The scent of his fresh pine birch soap fills the bedroom he smells wonderful.

You peek over at him, blonde hair slicked back dark and damp, shirtless with strong chiseled arms and perfect pecs twiddling down to that tiny waist of his with his tight abs, he’s wearing only his woven boxer shorts.

He notices you admiring him and comes closer approaching you from behind in the reflection of the vanity mirror. He immediately unties your silk robe and slides his hands down around your tiny baby bump. He kisses your ear as he stands behind you inhaling your scent, you smell much sweeter than he remembers and he’s enthralled by it.

He continues his kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder enjoying every touch of his lips to your delicate skin, silently obsessing knowing you are carrying his child.

He stares up at the reflection of you together his hands never leaving your womb. His voice rich and deep breaking the silent moment as he locks eyes with you.

“Can't wait till everyone sees how pretty you're gonna look all big and round” he says running his hands over the front of you. His lips fanning your ear “Everyone knowing you're my girl, the love of my life and that you're carrying my child inside of you …" he trails off unable to contain his arousal for you any longer.

His lips part against your skin as he licks and sucks his kisses onto your neck his large hands reaching and cupping your breasts gently squeezing them. They are so sensitive you part your lips and let out a soft moan.

He leans in again whispering softly against your ear “I can't believe I knocked up a pretty little thing like you.” Your eyes flutter shut as you are wet with arousal remembering how much you truly enjoy the feel of his cock inside you.

He turns you around pulling you to him pressing his hard length into your thigh kissing you slowly as he walks you backwards to the bed. He helps you disrobe and lays you down softly in the center. He places his hands on the soft inner flesh of your thighs and spreads them apart.

He pulls his boxer shorts off and locks eyes with you, holding the base of his cock in his right hand he presses the head on to your clitoris earning a beautiful moan out of you. He slides his cock head down your slick wet folds to your entrance and shoves himself home. His plump mouth opens and his cheeks flush red as he fills you up to the hilt.

His breaths are short and shallow as his swollen cock sinks in and slides out of you. His desperate loud moans begin filling the room unable to contain himself not having you for so long. He breathes out as he buries his full length into you pulling halfway out before plunging all the way back in, his hips smacking in a rhythm with yours. You moan in time with each thrust feeling like you will come apart at any second.

He quickens his pace pulling himself deeper into you with momentum. His hip movements strong and deliberate clapping against you as his cock head hits your cervix deep inside each time. His eyes dark and full of unbridled passion as they look into yours.

It’s all powerfully overwhelming: the way he stares, the way he thrusts into you hitting that perfect place, and the way that you just miss him so much, your body tenses and then trembles as you orgasm for him, waves of pleasure washing over you as your walls flutter tightly around him and you moan out his name, you can see in his eyes he felt you come undone, his release immediately following yours.

His hips jolt forward snapping into you as his body tenses and his cock throbs inside of you releasing all of his semen. You gasp and moan together from the feeling as he pumps his final thrusts into you.

He stills himself breathing heavily over you as you both come down from your highs. After a moment he gently slides himself out and falls back to the bed his chest rising and falling. You both stare up at the ceiling together panting slowly your faces displaying a mix of awe and satisfaction. Your minds both high swirling with serotonin thinking about what just happened. Your breaths finally calm as you lay next to each other. Gale already deep in thought.

“It’s kind of beautiful how I realized you were pregnant.” He says feeling a sudden clarity in his mind. “It was a real stormy night on the base, winds were whipping wildy. I was laying there and It was pitch black in the bunker after lights out. So I reached in my rucksack near my cot in the secret pocket and pulled out your panties.

“GALE YOU DID NOT !” You say in shock sitting up to stare at him “Yes I did” he says chuckling.

“Major Gale Cleven you are *such* a naughty boy!” You say grinning and lightly spanking him on his firm muscled shoulder. He quickly grabs your wrist pulling it over to settle you “cmon you gotta let me finish it gets really good” he says with a grin placing your hand on his solid chest.

“Alright tell me how you knew” you ask, scooting into place resting your head on his firm bicep. He places his hand down on your hip giving it a light squeeze pulling you against him.

“Well If the boys ever find your panties in my things I’ll never hear the end of that ” he cracks up.

“But as I was saying it was a real stormy night, everything on the base was jumping and creaking I couldn’t sleep a lick. So I lay there with your panties hidden under my hand flat against my chest just grounding me, cause I’m missing you every second im out there. I empty my head of all thoughts I was having except for being home with you and I guess it worked because I drifted to sleep and started dreaming.

I was back here at the house and you were just over there across the hall in our guest room. It was turned into a nursery just like we plan. I was resting with my elbow against the the doorframe peeking in you were infront of the nursery cot the baby was laying inside. You kneeled down to pick something up that fell and I saw that tiny little hand just reaching up for you over the rim of that cot and my eyes went wide it just knocked the wind out of me, you stood up blocking my view and trust me I was trying real hard to see that baby.

Thats when the loud hurricane alarms started blaring all over the base waking me and all the men up we prepared the base hunkering down and that wind ripped through so hard that night but the hurricane passed us right by. As it all died down we headed back to our cots everyone else cranky and tired but not me I had the biggest smile on my face, because all the times I dreamt of you that was the first time that you had the baby.

You take a moment to absorb all that he said.

“ Gale…that’s such a beautiful dream” you say overwhelmed with sentiment your heart swelling. You love this man so much you can’t even form the words to appreciate him.

“ I love you a Gale” is all you can think to say

“ I love you too ” he says tucking his chin down to peek over at you smiling. He reaches his long arm over and clicks off the light. You two shrouded in darkness hearing the soft patters of rain starting outside. “Mmm look at that the storm followed me home “ he says jokingly. “Oh I forgot to tell you the best part, that day I got your letter my craft was almost struck by lighting as I landed” he says casually.

Your eyes grow wide “ Gale that’s terrifying!” you say “ No no not for me that’ll always be a good luck sign because it was a surprise, just like finding out I’m going to be a father from your letter.”

He pulls you up higher on his bicep and plants several loving kisses on your forehead before caressing your jaw. He rubs his thumb playfully over your lips to make smile and you do. “Good night sweet heart” he says eyes heavy “Good night Gale” you say snuggling up on him. He places his large hand on your tiny baby bump “good night little bun” he smiles to himself closing his eyes. You stay awake a moment longer listening to his breathing change as he falls soundly asleep, you feel his calming heartbeat under your hand placed on his chest. You move it to place on top of his hand holding your baby bump. Feeling perfectly complete, you close your eyes and drift of to sleep.

~*End*~

Tags: @jessica987

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thekims4 · 7 months

Text

TS4 Goth Girl Outfits Lookbook #2

Hair / Skin 1, 2, 3 / Eyebrows / Eyes / Eyelids / Eyeliner / Blush / Lips

Clothing - Top

Maison Cleo Leah Blouse @charonlee

Mary Top @bluerose-sims

Tina Top @trillyke

Twice Jihyo Top 206 @sunberry-sims4

Sherpa Aviator Jacket @darte77

Random Set 1 - Top @miro-sims

Clothing - Bottom

Denim Collection - Long Skirt @luxysims

Giddy Skirt @plbsims

Odette Layered Skirt @bluerose-sims

Shirring Ribbon Skirt @sunberry-sims4

Miu Miu Skirt @eunosims

Flared Short Skirt @rimings

Acc

E Logo Knit Bucket Hat @rimings

Girls, Girls, Girls - Beanie @rimings

OLD GIFT BOX 6 - Beret @rimings

OLD GIFT BOX 6 - Hat @rimings

Pin Rabbit Hat @asansan3

Private School Beret Hat @bedisfull

Chanel Round Earrings & Necklace @eunosims

Spring Casual Earring & Necklace @rimings

Clarity Rings by MellouwSim

Fingernails Polish 7V @magic-bot

Star Messenger Bag @simgirlz

*Get Famous Socks Recolor @alexaarr

Classic Tights @magic-bot

Ripped Tights @magic-bot

Shoes

Leather Boots @shakeproductions

Tattoo

Tattoo 05 @helen-max

Pose

Catsblob @helgatisha Hongzo @kuropai888rock @ratboysims @roselipaofficial

#thekims4 2023 #ts4 spooky stuff #goth #party #sims 4 cas #ccfinds #sims 4 lookbook #ts4 lookbook #ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4cc #simblr #sims 4 cc #thesims4cc #sims 4 #sims 4 clothes #sims 4 download #sims 4 custom content

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ginjones · 7 months

Text

An ending (Ascent)

It’s probably not normal, Hob will reflect later, to walk in on your boyfriend sitting cross legged on the floor, wearing a giant pair of headphones, clutching a spoon in one hand, and staring into the middle distance in what can only be described as a state of divine rapture.

Perhaps it is for celebrities who have access to all the really good drugs, but celebrities don’t leave their partners bundled up in bed while they nip to Tesco’s to buy more milk.

It’s also not normal that he’s completely naked, save for one black sock which sits defiantly on his left foot. That would explain the detritus of clothing which greeted him on his way down the hall, but not whatever…this is.

Dream is sitting with his back to the living room bookcase where Hob keeps his vinyl, a selection of it discarded around him. He’s playing absently with the cord of the huge Bose headphones, weaving the coils around his delicate fingers, lost in thought. And there’s nothing to suggest he’s noticed Hob’s presence, no questioning whether Hob has remembered to pick up his favourite snack. For a moment, Hob wonders if he should whip out his phone; take a sneaky picture of this ceremonious event. Then he notices the shimmer of tears falling serenely down his partner’s cheeks and discards the notion entire.

“You okay, sweeting?”

No response. He shrugs off his messenger bag and sits down to join him, scooting over the laminate floor in a graceless bum shuffle.

A soft, white light from the overhead lamp illuminates the scene. It pours over Dream like a sheet of pure silk, highlighting his nakedness and the paleness of his skin. There’s a wonder to his expression; something soft in the way his mouth is held slightly open, his hair mussed from sleep. Like a renaissance painting, he thinks, in the way that all academics conflate one thing with the other. like Iris in the land of Hypnos and yet, he looks so human.

Because of course, he is.

It’s been 4 months and 3 days since he’d chosen to join Hob in the earthly realm of humanity. Hob’s been keeping track on the calendar, trying to offer him one new experience a day. They’ve watched classic movies, read each other poetry, (Dream still has the perfect voice for orating) and early last week Hob had introduced him to modern music (the Beatles were a hit, the Stone Roses were not).

Hob’s immediate presence must break Dream out of his reverie because slowly, sapphire eyes meet his and wordlessly he places the spoon down, picks up the sleeve of an album and holds it out to Hob like it’s the Turin shroud.

It’s not immediately identifiable. The artwork a scant wash of beige imposed over an image of moon craters; aesthetically pleasing yes, but not particularly noteworthy. Hob’s collected vinyl for the better part of five decades but his visual memory’s not the best. Without being able to hear what Dream’s listening to he’s drawing a bit of a blank. Then he sees the sparse red writing at the top and the name down the side and all at once, it clicks.

Brian Eno has broken my boyfriend.

It’s not the first time Dream’s had such a visceral response to artwork in these acclimating months. It had been very sweet to find him weeping over local artwork in the coffee shop they’d visited in Coventry. The issue was the shame he’d felt afterwards. In the car park outside, Hob had soothed him, rubbing gentle circles across his back as he listened patiently to Dream’s lament that it was all too much, these…feelings. I cannot hide them like I did before.

This time however, the tears seem to have stopped and a hazy sort of smile plays at the corner of his lips. He’s coming back to himself and in the privacy of this moment, shared only with Hob, he may be able to appreciate this outpouring of emotion for it is, something human.

“Want to take off the cans so we can talk, love?”

Hob’s pretty sure Dream hasn’t learnt to read lips, but the headphones are slowly lifted away, leaving the tinny echo of the song playing in the background. His expression changes to imitate something of his former status, a furrow of the brow, a regal upturn of his chin.

“Ah, you have return to me. You woke me when you left you know?”

He does, in fact know this. When he had risen gently from bed that morning, Dream had moved to pull him back; a flow of pale arms moving like water, muscles softened from sleep. He’s still getting used to it; the sense that Dream belongs here. That he won’t apparat back into endlessness, leaving the bed cold, the tea undrunk, the rooms quietened by his absence.

“And I’m guessing that’ll be the reasoning you give when I find arse prints on my lovely, new laminate floor?”

“You were gone for too long; I decided to entertain myself.”

“By listening to Brian Eno naked?”

“Yes”, his eyes trail down slowly to observe his current state, “I realised clothing was detracting from the experience.”

He can’t help but chuckle at that.

“So, you like Brian Eno, and I can see that he’s affected you,” Dream nods slowly, looking down to the album on the ground. “What is it about this album in particular, because I can tell there are some big feelings here. I want you to know we can discuss them.”

For a moment, Dream is silent, playing with the cord in his hands. He’s sitting a little straighter now, his shoulder muscles tightened in a familiar stance. Weighted by the question perhaps, a wish to answer dutifully, but still, he pauses for several seconds longer, worrying his bottom lip.

“It is… soothing I suppose. I enjoyed the piece Mata from this composition. It is nightmarish in its construction, recalling a jungle swollen with noxious blooms, but this one?”, he places a finger to the title, An ending (Ascent). “It remindsme of the space between form and thought where I once spun the diaphanous silk of my creations. It was where I was most at peace and upon listening, I found myself reminded of those moments.”

That is, quite frankly, a lot to unpack.

At his core, Dream remains a storyteller, weaving an elaborate web of seemingly disparate ideas. Hob finds it all a bit overwhelming. How he can take a piece of art, deconstruct it, and recraft it into something new. Pulling inspiration from the air, plucking its strings, and finding where the vibrations cross paths with his own experience. And Hob must be getting better at reading his partners mind because, in a quiet, searching tone, Dream asks:

“Has it been written for me?”

This man, Hob thinks This man who has come back to me, who has crept into my life and reads my books and listens to my music. This man who lays himself out to me in naked candour.

“Oh love, come here then. Give us a cuddle.” He’s blushing now, a pink hue spreading across the lily paleness of his chest. His skin is warm when Hob pulls him closer, and it smells sweet and living from sweat. “I mean, maybe? You tell me. Ever pay Mr Eno a visit like you did Shaxberd?”

“No,” Dream continues, “but it is as if this man has looked upon me and glimpsed a fragment of my being.”

“That’s a common phenomenon of the human experience I think. Lots of people feel like songs speak directly to them. Yours just happens to be written by Brian Eno-which doesn’t surprise me,” he chuckles affectionately, “he’s quite a conceptual artist-it’s all very ethereal.”

“Ethereal…” Dream pauses, his brow crinkled in thought. “Yes, there’s an otherworldliness to it I suppose… but a tangibility all the same. How the counter melody sits low in the mix-the bass notes appear rooted to the earth while the top notes look towards the sky. What did the first humans wonder when they looked towards my mother? I do not know…. I did not care for them as I do now”.

“Well,” Hob continues, “perhaps they thought about their own existence? Their place in a world which is confusing and often painful. Perhaps they wanted to feel like they were being protected by something bigger than themselves. Spirts; angels.”

“Angels?”, Dream scoffs “Angels do not sing like this. The holy choir is faultless in its melodies. It lacks the vibrancy of imperfection, the subtle intricacies of the human spirit. No; this piece holds far more divinity.”

“Ever thought about taking up music journalism Dove? Pitchfork would have a field day.”

As predicted, there’s no response to that.

So, Hob bundles him up and they sit on the sofa listening to Apollo together. Tomorrow, he’ll try and convince Dream to watch 28 days later, with the promise that An Ending (Ascent) is in the soundtrack. They’ll eat nothing but comfort food and Hob will remind Dream to brush his teeth before he goes to bed and in an otherworldly Parthenon, the muses will smile fondly down, and kiss the brow of a kindred aesthete.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #dreamling #hob gadling #Brian Eno #the sandman fanfic #lets simp of Brian Eno and cry about our feelings

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