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todomochi-uwu · 5 months

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Who. (2/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Yunho kept checking the file in his hands, reading over and over the same words not being able to register anything, his head was all over the place, between the tiredness, the stress and his broken heart, concentrating was proving to be impossible.

“Careful, Jeong. If you think any harder your head might catch on fire.” Said Lee Minho entering the doctor’s launch with an empty coffee mug.

“Piss off, Minho.” He didn't turn his eyes from the paper, determined to make it work no matter how much it took.

Minho’s eyes focused on the taller man in front of him, his skin was paler than normal, a slight blue tint covered it; his eyes were sunk in their sockets, dark purple bags underneath them; lips dry and crusty; he looked thinner, he looked sick. Yunho and Minho weren’t by any means close, they had spent the entire med school fighting for the top spot in their class; Jeong Yunho had proved to be a real pain in the ass, managing to balance school, work, friends and a fucking three-way relationship while Lee Minho could barely sleep and see his, now, husband.

“Not that I care, Jeong but, are you okay?” Said Minho, leaning against the countertop and waiting for the coffee to be done.

Yunho tossed the folder on the table, completely done. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm the blinding headache he had been carrying around his entire shift. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Lee.”

The cat-eyed doctor shrugged, not wanting to dig any further, he tried. He took his mug and made a beeline straight to the door, but he couldn’t help but look back at his school rival, and what he saw shocked him a bit. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking, his face in between his hands, and small but heavy sobs left his mouth. A suffering Yunho was something he had never expected to see, and while he thought it would bring him joy, it just made him feel weird. He would have to ask Jisung what was going on, he was friends with Mingi, and he would have to know.

______________________________________________________________

Mingi was not doing any better at work. He fell asleep on his desk, barely paid attention at meetings, and was hostile to his co-workers and possible clients. Jongho was done with attitude, he had been patient, as much as he could, and he tried to understand the situation, but it was becoming too much.

“Mingi, I am begging you, please go home, you cannot continue like this. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you are better.” Jongho said as softly as possible, not wanting to trigger another fight with the dirty blonde lawyer in front of him.

“Jongho, I’m okay. I would rather just be working, there’s nothing to do at home anyways.”

“Mingi…” He was interrupted.

“Jongho, I won't repeat myself, leave me alone.” He turned his chair away from the younger lawyer.

That was it. He was done.

Jongho slammed his hand against the desk, startling Mingi, “Listen to me, Mingi, I get that you are sad, okay? I get it. But you cannot come here and act like a fucking dick and expect everyone to be okay with it. We tried to be nice and give you a couple of weeks to recover, but so far, we have lost two important clients because of your attitude and you pissed off three more. I’m sorry she left, but I highly doubt she would come back if she saw the mess you’ve become. Yelling at people, turning work in late, getting drunk, fighting with Yunho, do you think she wants that? Because I highly doubt it.” He jabbed his finger into Mingi’s chest. “Get. Your. Shit. Together.” And with that he left the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Mingi sighed, taking off his tie. He closed his eyes trying to calm down, but it seemed impossible. Anxiety had been tormenting him for almost a month now, and it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. He misses you. A lot. He just didn’t know how to function without that missing piece. Nothing was working right now, his head was always a mess, always going back to that night, trying to remember every moment he neglected you; he was trying to balance out his pain and stress to not mess up his relationship with Yunho as well; while also trying to balance out work as to not get fired, or at least not to piss off Jongho even more, but nothing is working. He misses you, and without you, nothing in him works.

______________________________________________________________

Chan was in the kitchen bar working; his heavy and expensive headphones sat on the top of his head while he was nodding along to the rhythm of his last track. He kept replaying it to try and figure out what was missing, what he could change or fix, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Flashbacks kept showing up in his head, replaying again and again, memories of his college days, memories of the time he fell in love with his now roommate and failed to do something about it.

It was the winter semester; the campus was covered in snow and everyone found refuge inside the library. Chan was planning to go there and work on a paper that was due that same night, but once he saw the amount of people inside the building, he decided he wouldn’t be able to work there. And just as he was about to leave, he saw Hongjoong sitting on a couch in the corner, next to him was something that made the producer’s mouth dry. A woman so beautiful his eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing, his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening, his feet moved on their own in that direction, he needed to talk to her, to know her name, to introduce himself. His friend got up as soon as he saw him, greeting him and introducing her. Y/n. That was her name, a name Chan would never be able to forget.

A friendship was established that day. You would start by hanging out with Hongjoong, going out to eat, watch a movie or to a party; but soon it became just the two of you. Hanging out at each other’s dorms, he showed you some of his music, and you showed him some of her stories; at first, he would walk you back to her room every night, but after some time you would stay over, “it’s easier” you said. One fateful night, Christopher finally made a move, giving you a quick peck on the lips while listening to your favourite artist’s latest album, the largest seconds of his life were right after, waiting for your reaction; you ended up fucking on top of his desk, pushing all his books, and cd’s to the floor.

That was the way the next months were spent, hanging out and finding any and every excuse to have sex, but never giving a title to what you were. Chan just assumed you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment, convincing himself he was fine with what you had, not admitting he was just too much of a coward to ask if you felt the same as him.

“I just don’t understand him, Jisung. One day he acts as if we were a couple, and the next he calls me his best friend. Friends don’t treat each other the way we do, friends don’t do what we do.”

“Maybe he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment, he would just rather stay as friends with benefits.” Jisung pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.

“But I don’t want to be just friends with benefits.” You pouted her lips.

“Hey, come on, don’t be sad. I'll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to Wooyoung’s party this Friday? You’ll have fun and forget, at least for a bit, about Chan.”

Christopher’s first mistake was introducing you to Jisung. The second one was allowing you to befriend him. And his last, but most fatal one was not going to that party. Why? Because Yunho and Mingi were there.

“Y/n, this my friend Mingi. Mingi, this is Y/n.” And just like that, it was over before it could even begin. That same night Mingi had introduced you to Yunho, and they both were heads over heels for you, they asked you to hang out the very next day and while at first you were confused as to how it would work, they won you over, pushing completely out the idea of Chan off your head.

He remembered the first time you talked about them, he thought you had just made out with one of them at the party, and while he wasn’t exactly happy about it, he could let it slide, no idea of what was about to come. Texts left unanswered; calls that went to voicemail; and long nights waiting for you to show up, but at some point, it became clear, that you were not just sleeping around with them, you were in love. That very same night he went out and got drunk out of his mind, only being able to get back home after Changbin and Minho found him trashed on a bench in front of their building. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so scared, if he had just tried, you would be his, and he promised himself that if that door ever opened again, he would be there. But as time went on, it became more apparent that would never happen… until now.

He kept repeating over and over to himself that you weren’t ready, that you still love them and that you were still mourning that relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted you.

The last month he had been in some kind of hell in heaven. When you first had shown up, he was pissed off beyond comprehension, how could they let this happen? How could they treat you like that? He had spent every second of his existence since he met you, loving and worshipping the ground you walk on and they had let you slip away? Unbelievable. But he couldn’t help but see the perks of all of this. He was the one to console you, to build you back up, and through the course of the weeks, you were better.

He would come back home to you cooking, greeting him the second he went in; you telling him about your day or a new show you were watching; you showed him your work and asked his opinion. Everything went back to how it was; it was even better. This is what he had been missing out all this time?

“Good morning, Channie.”

“Welcome back, Chan. I made some spaghetti; I hope you like it.”

“Hey, Chan. How was work?”

Oh, blissful domesticity. But everything was too good to be true. They would show up in the most subtle ways, in the middle of a conversation, in the notifications of your phone, even in the clothes you wore, they still smell like them; your ex-boyfriends were everywhere in his apartment, tormenting him. And, of course, he wasn’t blind, he could see it, your face still showed how heartbroken you were, and he could also hear it at night, small sobs escaped your mouth, whispering their names again and again.

Yunho…

Mingi…

Never his name.

______________________________________________________________

Jisung had just arrived home, his hands full of grocery bags balancing them while trying to open the door, and just as he was about to spill everything on the ground, a soft hand came to his rescue.

“Jesus, Sungie be careful.” The person behind him giggled.

“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he still leaned in and hugged you. “What are you doing here? How did you get in the building?”

“Oh, I live here now.”

“Mingi gave up his rent control apartment? Is he crazy?”

“Um… not exactly.” You scratched the back of your head.

“Okay, come inside and tell me what’s going on.”

…

“And that’s how I ended up living with Chan.” You took a small sip of the hot chocolate Jisung had prepared.

“Have you talked to them?”

You shook your head.

Jisung’s arms were folded against his chest, his eyes looking directly at yours, not sure what to say, “So it’s over between you and them?”

“I don’t know, Hannie. I love them, so much it hurts, but I don't think they feel the same way, they act as if I'm not even there, as if I'm not important to them.” You lay down on the kitchen table, controlling your breathing so you won't start crying.

“Well, that’s just not true.” He put his hand on top of your head, petting you, “Mingi can be an idiot sometimes and the same goes for Yunho, but they love you, baby. From the very first moment they met you, they have loved you, maybe they just lost their tracks for a moment, but they will come back to you.” He kissed you on the forehead, “and if for some reason they don’t, I will be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

______________________________________________________________

Minho arrived late at night, completely done with work and with stubborn patients who thought they knew more than him because they read an article on the internet. Jisung ran to the front door as soon as he heard the jiggling of the keys, ready to receive his grumpy husband. He accompanied him into the kitchen, where he served him a hot plate of his favourite food and told him about this day.

“I found the chips you like on sale so I bought a couple, I also bought the ingredients I was missing for that ramen you want to try, oh and I tried that juice I’ve been craving, but it wasn’t that good.” Minho couldn’t keep up with the number of things that came out of his husband’s mouth, but he was happy to listen. “Oh, oh my god I almost forgot, guess who I ran into?”

“Who?” He said while shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Y/n, she broke up with Mingi and Yunho, and she’s staying with Chan.”

Minho choked, coughing aggressively, not believing the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth. Everything made sense now, that’s why the puppy-like doctor had been so miserable the last couple of weeks. And why Chan had been avoiding him lately. He got up and headed towards the door, “Give me a second, love I’ll be right back.”

He made his way down the hall, he was in no mood to do this, but it had to be done. He had witnessed first-hand how completely devastated had Chan been after you had broken his heart (not that he thinks you did it on purpose), how hard it was to get him to shower, to go to work, how long it took him to go back to normal, and he feared it would happen again. He pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbours next door complained. The door opened harshly, a sleep-deprived Christopher on the door side, looking at him as if he had grown to heads.

“Min, it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?”

The doctor grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the wall next to the door, “You are going to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing.”

“I'm not doing anything. She’s my friend, I want to help her move…”

He interrupted, “What? Move on? Were you planning to be her saviour so she would fall in love with you? Bang Chan, she’s been engaged to them for almost a year now, they are just going through a rough patch…”

“They broke up.”

“They will get back together, it's more than obvious, they are in love.” He whispered yelling, he was worried, did Chan think he had a chance?

“They neglected her, Minho they took her for granted, I would…”

“Chan, listen to me, she’s not in love with you, whatever you two had it's over, it's been over for years, for Christ's sake.” He shook his shoulders, trying to get some sense into him.

“I know what I'm doing.”

“You clearly, don’t.” He pushed his friend back into his apartment and went back to his. His entire body ached, but anxiety filled his head, not letting him rest.

______________________________________________________________

“So, she finally dumped your ass, good for her honestly,” Minho said as he entered Yunho’s office. The latter one looked up at him, the look in his eyes completely dead. “Geez, you look like shit.”

“What do you want, Minho? I'm busy, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“I know where she is.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me about this.” He got up and grabbed Lee by the collar and shook him, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I saw her.” Little white lie, but he technically did know where she was. He pushed him back, “I don’t like you, Yunho, at all. But I know what it's like to be in your shoes, so I’ll make you a deal, you get your shit together and I might just tell you where she is.”

______________________________________________________________

Yunho’s hands kept trembling, he had barely been able to drive home without crashing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Mingi what Minho had told him, all at the same time, but he also thought, what would he say? How could he apologize? Would she take them back? He went into the house, Mingi was lying on the couch, a book in his hands and glasses sitting on his face, his eyebags and skin tone resembling his boyfriend’s, he turned to look at him, noticing how fidgety and dishevelled he looked.

“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He got up and approached Yunho, he grabbed his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks.

“Um…” he bit off some of the skin in his lip, not knowing how to deliver the news, his head couldn’t put the words together, not even able to process them. “Minho told me something today.”

“Ugh, that asshole. I don’t know how Jisung married that guy, he's such a nice guy and Minho is so…”

Yunho interrupted him, not able to hold it in any longer, “Minho says he knows where Y/n is staying.”

Mingi felt how the air left his body, all thoughts abandoning his mind in the same way, tears were quick to rush to his eyes, “What?”

“Yeah, he saw her and knows where she’s been staying.” He paused to order his next words, ��And he said he will tell me if we manage to get our shit together.”

Mingi took him into his arms and squeezed him till he was out of breath, not being able to contain his happiness. Together they cried and smiled while the thought of everything going back to normal filled them, that was until something crossed their minds at the same time, would you even want them back?

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Tag list:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie

#ateez angst #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez smut #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho angst #song mingi #mingi angst #mingi x reader #mingi smut

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snowy-vee · 2 months

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ALL MINE (4)

CHECK MY PINNED POST!

DAILY CLICK!!!!

DON'T STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE JUST BECAUSE THE STRIKE IS OVER! NOBODY WILL BE FREE UNTIL EVERYONE IS FREE!

oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader

n/a: 2.9k words! I hope you all enjoy, I have change some things so the story MAYBE won't end in 6 chapters, I love reading comments or answering questions, so FEEL FREE TO DO SO. Any misspelling will be edited later on

You enter the house talking on the phone. You take out your boots and went directly to the fridge grabbing a water bottle.

“No, shit, Jesse, of course I’m giving her space but I think you don’t get that it’s been two weeks since I last saw her”

“If I don’t recall wrong, you made some cheer girls spy on her”

“Shush, what was I supposed to do? She was suspended for one week so I knew I wasn’t going to see her and that she was going to still mad at me the next one, so I put April and Sav to do a little… research ¡I am worried! She hasn’t even come to the house to pick up her clothes, her backpack, yes, but her clothes are just like the last time.”

When you went to fight Abby at her department, you didn’t, Ellie had done enough job, so you just screamed at her and made her tell you what the fuck happened between them at the locker room and years ago. Abby, tired of this bullshit, told you everything from A to Z, and you felt more like a piece of shit.

Now you understood everything, at least saw the situation with a different light, you did slap Abby and told her to stay away from you or you would sue her for spreading your pics around campus. Since then, no contact between you two, not even in class.

“Well, you fucked up big this time, what can I say?”

“Thank you, you’re the best, How does it feel that she’s with your ex and you’re still in love with her?”

“One, at least I can talk with Dina without problems, our friendship is good, Two, they are not together yet. How’s yours with Ellie? Oh right, hanging in a thread”

“Blah, Blah, Blah… Where’s my fucking couch?” You turned around going on the living room to sat down on your couch but it disappeared, it was there this morning when you left.

“How would I know? Where’s your couch?”

“That’s what am I asking, Jesse!” You were going to freak out. You heard the water of the bathroom running, there was someone on the house “I think there’s someone in the house…”

“It could be Ellie”

“Her keys are not in the entrance, I will call you later…” You said walking slowly towards the bathroom, you could hear Jesse telling you to don’t hang the call but you did anyway. Once you where in front of the door, It opened and you screamed.

The voice of Ellie screaming at unison with you made you stop. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She said with a hand on her chest looking at you as if you were crazy. She obviously just took a shower and was wrapped in a towel with her hair soaked and wetting the floor. You felt relieved that it wasn’t a burglar, you nodded slowly reassuring yourself and saying that it was only Ellie… ¡Ellie!

“You’re back?”

“Well, still my house too, so yeah, you have a problem with that?” She said in a defensive tone, of course her guard wasn’t down yet.

“No, of course no! It’s just that I am surprised”

“Don’t be, this doesn’t mean me and you are friends again”

“I know… Do you happen to know what happened with the couch” You asked with a sad frown looking at her walk to her room.

“Yeah, I burned it in a remote clearing far from here”

“Why? It was brand new!

“It was dirty because of someone” she simply said closing her door. You had a confused look on your face as you were processing what she told you.

You locked yourself in your room, you did miss her but at the same time you had to find some words to tell her and you had zero idea what to do, God, she was burning things now, maybe you were the next. Ellie was walking around the house, you could hear her steps on the kitchen and the TV on, she was cooking something while watching one random quiz show.

The warm feeling that you had knowing that she was finally back at home allowed to take a long nap, a very long one because once you woke up, the sun was gone and you regretted it. You had homework to do and exams to study, you had to take it seriously since cheer wasn’t your major, you were studying something that your parents agreed on but you did not enjoyed that much.

They were donating monthly to the cheer team in exchange that you aced everything else, otherwise you would be expelled from cheering and from the team, even the coach knew that. Ellie always helped you and made it easy to study but she didn’t this time, obviously, so you had kind of trouble studying.

With your things to study you went to your kitchen, leaving everything on the table, you were going to study there but also eat something, you were hungry. You opened the fridge, empty except some sodas and protein bars… maybe in the pantries? Nothing caught your attention but the pan in the stove. Ellie had cooked one of your fav foods, was she torturing you? She knew that you weren’t going to grab the food nor ask her if you could, you bit your lip and sighed resignedly, protein bars would be.

Time flies while you were working in your homework, sometimes looking over Ellie because it still felt surreal that she was at home, she could feel your eyes on her but she wasn’t going to give you any attention or so she thought before you started groaning annoyed that you couldn’t understand a lot of things. It was making her nervous and irritated her a little, mostly because she knew that you stressed yourself easily over anything and that made the process more difficult and also because she couldn’t help you, you two were on a Cold War.

“What is it?” She said getting up from the only small chair of the living room.

You turned the computer around and showed her the topic, she started helping you and you were focus, of course you wanted to use the opportunity to talk but first enjoy her help. None of you realized how fast the time passed that until you let a small yawn.

“Maybe, that’s everything for today” Ellie said returning to her cold-self. Shaking your head you grabbed her hand.

“Please, don’t… I can’t spent another day without talking to you”

“We are talking”

“Don’t play dumb, I finally know what happened back home, I finally understand more your anger, Abby told me everything”

Ellie raised her eyebrows, waiting for you to start talking. She wanted to know what truth have you heard and if it was the right version of it, and it was, Abby told you the truth.

“So you went to her again?”

“That’s all you have to say? And it was not like that” You rolled your eyes looking at her “Whatever, what I want to say is that I wished you could’ve told me back then”

“Would it have changed something?”

“I have no idea, maybe?”

Ellie scoffed. “So my word was not enough? Telling you not to mix with Anderson?”

It was going to be difficult to try and have a conversation when Ellie still hurt and was defensive, which you get and that’s why the nap was a need, you were mentally prepared for this.

“I’m not saying that, but I thought it was something stupid like she stole your game box, not your girlfriend” You tried to explain.

“Okay, but you still had something with her knowing that I was in bad terms with her, why? I mostly want to hear why? I’ve been racking my brain searching for a reason”

“Because of you” Ellie opened her mouth to respond but you covered it. “Shut up. Let me finish, I did it because of you, Ellie, I’ve been in love with you since god knows when and I tried so hard just to be your best friend but I couldn’t”

Ellie eyes softened slowly. “Every girl that tried anything with you, I scared them off, I used the ‘power’ of being popular and I used to make them stay away from but then we came here and there was so many people that did not fear me or knew me and you were getting along with a lot of people, I was afraid you were going to finally find a girl that matched your type”

“Why you never told me that?” She said taking your hand out of her mouth, holding it now.

“I’ve tried! Millions of times but somehow you had a new girl in your radar or you did not read the signs, eventually I grew tired of it so I tried to keep you for me. The first time I got with Abby, was only a kiss in a game but that made me popular somehow and I was starting to get more attention because of the rumours, at the same time I saw how you looked at Dina when she was dating Jesse and how you started to talk with her when they broke up even if it was briefly, I knew you were getting interested in her”

“I have nothing with Dina…”

“Can you let me finish? Damm” She murmured a little ‘sorry’ and indicate for you to continue “That irritated me and I was thinking on ways, it’s going to sound bad… on ways to hurt you because of how you made me feel, like I would never be enough but I did not wanted to hurt you directly because I am your best friend, nothing else, you weren’t doing anything bad, just being social and flirting. Abby told me she find me attractive and ¡Bang! Match made in hell, it was perfect, because I knew how much pain you’d feel and it would be equal at mine.”

“So it was intentional? You wanted to hurt me?” She let go of your hand looking at your eyes.

“No! Well, yeah, I didn’t realized how dumb I was being but with you and Dina getting to know each other more, you lying to me to go see her… It was too much. I’ve been with a lot of people in front of you and you’ve never reacted until Abby, so it was the only person that made you protective of me while I tried to get rid of Dina”

You took a deep breath and exhaled softly, nodding slowly. “But this two weeks, I did some thinking, more like mini therapy and I’m ready to be your best friend and stop pushing myself on you on any way and let you be the judge of your love life. I don’t want you out of my life, you’re my everything and if it’s only as a best friend that I can be, I am ready and I know that I hurt you and that is going to be difficult to trust me again but I hope we can reconnect slowly again”

Ellie felt kind of guilty knowing that she neglected your feelings and kind of made you that way, she could’ve rejected you sooner… or accept you sooner, anyway what was done was done.

“I- I think that I accept your apologize”

“You think? Is that a yes or no?”

“I don’t know, I have to think about it and it will take time. Even if we start acting like before, my trust on you has been hurt” You nodded. Of course, you were aware of that but how long was she going to take? Also, you just confessed that you love her and she is not going to say anything to that? That made your heart kind of itching, you wanted to scratch it and, in the process, tear it out.

“I understand… Can I hug you?”

“It’s better that you don’t” Oh. Ellie already took out your heart and ate it in front of you “We can start slowly, I can help you studying and let’s go from that”

“Okay”

“You can’t interfere in any of my love life, nor go back to Abby, this time I won’t make you promise that you will, I just hope that you wanting my friendship back is enough to keep you away from her” Your mind was spiralling thinking about how much build up you had to do to rebuild what you had with her. “I’m kind of tired… I’ll go to sleep now, night”

She went to her room an closed the door. You were left alone in the kitchen and still with a little homework unfinished, but you had a new plan in the move, now that you had a green light you could start it.

“I’m going to the 24h store! Be right back” You yelled grabbing your jacket and keys, putting on your shoes and calling Jesse.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The music of the bar was mostly soft rock and the smell of alcohol and cigarettes was everywhere, you finally saw Jesse playing pool in his red varsity jacket with some guys of the football team.

“Hey, guys!” You said in your cheer tone, making them all smile. “Mind if steal your teammate for some time?”

“All you want, darling”

They started cheering Jesse’s name and patting him on his back as you pulled him out of the bar to the back part of it so no one could catch you talking and interrupt.

“They must be thinking we’re going to fuck or something”

“Ha! In your dreams” You let your back rest on the wall as you look at him taking out a cigarette “Give me one”

He light his up and came in front of you putting on in your lips and connecting both cigarettes to light up yours, all this keeping eye contact with you before taking a spot besides you, leaning his back on the wall too, that made you and he laughed.

“I’m sure that works like charm with the ladies”

“You can’t imagine” he shrugged “So what was that you wanted to talk about?”

“I will help you with get back with Dina” He started coughing because of heat you said, you raised your eyebrow blowing the smoke on his direction.

“What? Why? Is this one of your crazy plans?

Your relationship with Jesse was more of a partner in crime than anything, if any of you had this weird planning on something you could count on the other to support and help and he knew of your dying love with Ellie, so he was sure you wanted to help yourself more than help him.

“Don’t you still love her? Why don’t fight for that love back? You guys were cute”

“You used to gag every time you saw us”

“That was before”

“Before what? Before she and Ellie started something?” You nodded shamelessly, you had no problem admitting that you wanted Dina out of the picture ASAP. He stayed in silent for sometime, he was reconsidering the offer, most of your plans never failed and he truly wanted Dina back. “I don’t want to force Dina back in to my arms, I want her to be with me because she wants”

“Duh, my plan won’t work if she don’t want, this has to go smoothly, Ellie has given me second chance but with the agreement that I wouldn’t mess into her love life”

“Yet here you are” he smirked. “You are such a bad best friend”

“That’s why I want to be the girlfriend, now that all the mess with Cat and Abby is out, she doesn’t have to evade me in that aspect any more”

“Because you already cheat on her once” You hit her shoulder and he laughs “Don’t get mad at me, get mad at yourself! I’ll do it, but it better work, how much time is it going to take?”

“Some months, we need to let them at least some weeks together and then interfere between them, my friendship with Ellie still is fragile but she adores me too much, we will be back at normal, while that happen…” You flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground and stamped it out, exhaling the last puff. “You have to tighten your friendship with Dina, be more flirty, romantic but not too much that you make her uncomfortable, enough to make her remember how good your relationship was”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Be the friend Ellie deserves and helping her through the hard times” you take out your phone to call an Uber to go back home, your job here was done, you just had to wait and have faith that Jesse was going to do a good work.

“You truly are something else” Jesse sighed walking back to the bar and giving you a last look.

“I’m just taking care of my girl”

Meanwhile, Ellie was at home contemplating her ceiling and thinking that maybe this time everything was going to be easy and that maybe this was a small bump that your friendship had to overcome to become stronger. She was so weak when it came about you, she tried so hard to stay at Dina’s but she was sometimes searching for you on campus without realizing that, sometimes it seem as if you were the one that started the cold war. How wrong was she about it…

taglist;; @boobdrug @lovelyxbaby @pedropascalsbbg@cherryimaa @yumimak @amberputh @cattjull @carylinflors @ghostlyfangs @teawithnosugar @azxulaa @elliesexual @gato-chino @divinesdior @yumimak @abbystoy @gosomewjere @isitadinosaur @sourgummywormsss @rhehhwfehwfqd @bubblymilktee @mulan-but-gay @liasxeatt @lookforthelight1 @slynxs @doveocean @onlinelesbo

for people who asked me to be tag but it's not, sorry, it's not letting me tag you, I'll try later or next chapter <3 I'm going to ask for 250 notes to post the next!!!

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ieatstarsforaliving · 6 months

Text

The Set-Up for Chapter 4 (3)

Summary: Hazel is really bad at lying. Especially to you.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mentions of violence and death, I don't know what else honestly it's like 2 AM

Word Count: 4244

Note: I know it's been a while, my bad- turns out this whole university thing actually needs my time and effort to pass or something idk. Anyways, this chapter is lowkey kind of boring cause it's the set-up for the fun upcoming action-filled bloody chapters so just bear with me. But since I was gone for a while this is extra long... at least for me. Next fic is chapter 2 of The Grief We're Given so enjoy the lighthearted fic for now... also am lazy so this is unedited LMAO so it might be bad idc - Bia <3

“(Y/N), I know this may come off as a shock, but I love you too much to hide it from you anymore. I’m actually… the Spider-Woman!”

PJ dramatically pulled off the red mask from her face, striking a pose, earning a laugh from Hazel.

The trio were putting away the equipment they used for the Fight club after all the other members had left the gym— and by that it meant Josie and Hazel were putting away equipments while PJ thought it was a fun idea to dig through Hazel’s backpack to pull out her Spider-Woman mask, put it on, and start doing cartwheels and other nonsense around the gym floor.

“Okay, why don’t you actually help us clean up, PJ,” Josie complained, folding up the floor mats, “Instead of blowing Hazel’s cover?”

“Fine,” PJ rolled her eyes before throwing the mask back to Hazel, who caught it reflexively just as it was about to hit her face. “But even if anyone saw me with the mask, it’s not like they would believe any of us losers could possibly be the amazing Spider-Woman.”

PJ threw a playful grin at Hazel who folded the mask and hid it in her backpack. PJ had been begging her to reveal her superhero identity for a while, saying that it would raise all of their social levels right to the top. Josie, in reverse, begged Hazel not to reveal her identity, especially given the risks involved.

“But what if you just told (Y/N)? Then, she’ll fall in love with you, then automatically she’ll hang out with us more, and by association she’ll bring Isabel and Brittany with her!” PJ argued, still unwilling to drop the topic.

“Yeah, and then the next villain that wants to kill Hazel will take the people she loves as hostage,” Josie warned. “In fact– I know we’ve been doing the self-defense club for a while and it’s been going pretty well so far, but Hazel has exposed herself way too much.”

PJ groaned, indicating her impatience with Josie’s cautious approach. “Okay what part of this is too much? All Hazel’s doing is lightly punching and kicking a bunch of girls.”

“Was it the backflip?” Hazel chimed in.

“Yes, it was the backflip!” Josie blurted. “And we can’t keep saying ‘there’s all sorts of people who teach you stuff in juvie’ as an excuse anymore.”

“But the club is working!” PJ insisted, flailing her arms towards the gym. “Girls are actually acknowledging us in the hallways, I’ve gotten 3 high fives just this afternoon, and girls– the hot ones know our names. And also Female solidarity and whatever. The club is working!”

“I know. I feel like if we keep it up, you guys might actually be able to take down some crime in the area.”

“No, if we keep it up we can put our fingers inside of each other, grow up, Hazel.”

Josie crossed her arms. “Whatever. It’s your call.”

“I do feel like people are liking more than just the hitting and the tackling part of the club.”

The club had moved onto catfights on the gym floor, and it was no secret to Hazel that she always looked forward to these training sessions, particularly when it came to her interactions with you. All the punching, kicking, and rolling around the floor was more than what Hazel believed she deserved, but she couldn’t help but crave a deeper connection with you. And the weekly lunch meetings to make the ‘women murdered in history’ project weren’t exactly enough to get to know each other.

PJ shrugged. “Yeah, I know, we’re empowering them. Duh.”

“No, I mean, seriously, to have a safe space like this, it means a lot to people, and I think if we took some time to spend a meeting and actually get to know these girls, like, it would be really important instead of just…” Hazel pictured the time you were on top of her, pinning her down with your feeble strength, bodies pressed close– so close– as you grappled each other on the floor, listening to the chants and cheers of the girls circling around. Her voice trailed off. “...sweating on them.”

PJ and Josie paused, then looked at each other with an incredulous smile.

“Hazel, that is… genuinely a brilliant idea.”

“I love talking about my trauma.”

Hazel squinted. “That’s not really–”

“-I literally jack off after every single therapy session. It just makes girls weirdly horny.”

Josie shook her head. “Don’t say ‘girls’. It’s just you.”

“Okay!” Hazel interrupted, fearing someone walking in midst of the conversation that turned weird thanks to PJ, as always. “I’ll just email the group about our next meeting.”

You walked into the gym with an excited grin. Fight club was the one thing you looked forward to in school nowadays— it was the only place you felt truly safe and comfortable, with only girl members (minus Mr. G, but he was an ally) who cheered you on with every weak punch that you threw.

Hazel noticed you walking in and waved to you, and you noticed that the format of the club had changed today. Everyone was sitting in a circle, like one of those sharing sessions in kindergarten times. You joined the circle in between Krystal and Hazel, who grinned like an idiot when you sat beside her.

“What’s going on?” You whispered to her, but Josie answered your question.

“So, we know that this club has been a place where we can feel empowered physically, but we also thought it could be a safe space and a place where we can open up and talk about our feelings.”

You nodded along as the girls began to talk about themselves— Sylvie with her stepdad, Stella with her stalker, and Brittany with her jewelry business— and you realized that although you had been fighting each other for a while, you never knew that much about the girls. You listened tentatively to each of their stories, but to your honesty, you were quite distracted by your project partner, who kept opening her mouth, then closed them continuously. She seemed to be contemplating whether or not to open up. Your curiosity piqued, and when your eyes met with her’s, you encouraged her with a supportive look.

Hazel smiled at your aid. She didn’t really know how to talk about the biggest secret that she held about her superpower, but your expression was so supporting– too supporting, that she found herself speaking out.

“Well, ever since…” Hazel began, her mind racing to find the right words.

I’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider,

“...My parent’s divorce,”

I’ve been doing this, like, superhero stuff after school. I don’t even know if I’m doing this right, you know?

“My mom’s been doing this, like, mid-life crisis. I don’t know how that’s sitting with me, you know?”

And it’s just me swinging through buildings and beating criminals up and handing them over to the police who hate me because I’m a faceless vigilante but the entire neighborhood depends on me because some of these criminals are genuinely insane. I’ve broken bones, I’ve fallen through roofs, I got impaled once, that was fun— and it just feels so incredibly amazing but so burdening, all the same time.

“And it's been really really dark.”

She took a glance at you, who was nodding through her words, returning her gaze with tender understanding.

“This has just been really meaningful to me to, like, get to know some new people-”

(Y/N).

“-Who actually wants to, like, get to know me.”

You felt a surge of empathy for Hazel. You could hear the vulnerability shining through her words— it must have been hard to find good friends after experiencing such hardship. You couldn’t help but come to admire her even more.

You raised your hand. “And I just wanted to say that I think it’s very hard to find a good and safe community in school for girls, and I’m really grateful to Hazel for founding this club,” You gushed. “It's really brave of you— and your friends— to take your past and turn it into something so amazing for us. So, thank you.”

Hazel grinned like an idiot, fidgeting with her hair as her face burned up.

“Get a room, you two,” PJ intervened with a smirk. “But seriously, I just want to circle back to what Brittany was saying–”

“-I would like to go next, if that’s okay.” Josie raised her hand.

PJ was obviously discontented, but Josie started anyway.

“I don’t really like talking about juvie and everything that happened over the summer, um, you know, we get a lot of props or whatever cause people think it's so badass, But, really wasn’t. I mean, unless you consider getting hazed horrifically every single night, like, badass. I mean, obviously, you know, we had to survive the tributes, and you know, I did have to, like, fight people basically every single night. People were betting on us and we were given shivs and rusty pocket knives and splintered wood and, um, pipes as well.”

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows. No one’s going to believe this, She thought, turning to look at Isabel—

–Who had the most distressed look on her face?

Oh, Hazel blinked, shocked that Josie’s improvised monologue is working. There were almost tears glistening in Isabel’s eyes. She assumed Isabel to be the only one, then she turned to look at you— and your hand was on your mouth, eyes filled with woe.

“And we had to just like, fight people, sometimes to the death,” Josie added.

Hazel frowned. This wasn’t good.

Josie continued.

“And I still hear their screams at night and that guilt probably will, like, always shackle me forever. And sometimes people still try to attack us in the streets for revenge, or try to blackmail us into doing bad things with them, but I realize now, I don’t have to be that person anymore. We don’t have to be like that anymore. We don’t have to just let things happen to us. Because of you guys. And I am just really grateful for what the club has become and… just especially, you know, from where we started and, uh…”

Hazel’s eyes were leaping out of her face as she gestured to Josie to tone it down. She frantically shook her head, indicating that Josie’s speech had much more effect than she thought it would.

“Yeah, sorry,” Josie caught on, ending her facade quickly. “I feel like I kinda killed the vibe. I’ve never really, I guess, said that to anyone before, sorry.”

There was a silence that Hazel felt the need to break. This was bad– she knew Josie liked talking about her trauma, but she didn't expect Josie to make up the most devastating, hunger-games type of trauma in front of you.

“But juvie also wasn’t that bad,” Hazel blurted. “I mean it’s probably way less scary than adult prison, and it really builds character–”

You turned to look at Hazel who was rambling about the positive effects of juvie. Your heart broke at the sight of panic on her face– how harsh were the conditions of juvie that Hazel felt the need to protect her trauma?

Josie cut in. “Yeah, okay, people wanna wrap up maybe or…”

“I’m going through a divorce.”

Everyone turned to Mr. G.

“Whoo! That shit felt good to say.” Mr. G beamed, his leg stretched out as a free spirit. “Whoo, I tell y’all. Men… men need therapy.”

Josie stood up. “Yeah… I think that’s a good place to maybe wrap up.”

“What was that?” Hazel asked.

Josie shrugged, putting on her jacket. “I don’t… I don’t really–”

“-I mean, you were just bullshitting from A to Z with no breaks in between. I didn’t know you were such an actress, Josie.” PJ laughed, playfully shoving Josie’s shoulder. “You should think about that, for your future career.”

Hazel did not laugh. “Josie, you were the one who told me not to be ‘too much.’”

“I don’t think it was too much. I think it was the exact amount of oomph we needed as a group.” PJ grabbed her shoes from the floor. “It made us look vulnerable but also tough.”

“I don’t think (Y/N) was thinking that.”

“Okay, How do you know what (Y/N) was thinking?”

“I don’t, but I could see her–”

“-Maybe she’ll tell you herself,” PJ said, pointing behind Hazel.

Hazel spun around to see you walking towards her. She immediately straightened herself, touching up her hair as you waved to her.

“Hazel.”

Hazel gulped in response.

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to finish the project today?” You asked, giving a shrug. “If you’re not busy. I know you’re always kind of busy and that’s why we just always did our project during lunch, but–”

“-I’m not busy!” Hazel exclaimed, before mentally slapping herself for being too eager. “I mean, today sounds good. Today is perfect.”

“Okay!” It was your turn to be eager, giving a nod before pointing to the girls locker room. “I’ll just get my bag, and I’ll be right back.”

As you slipped into the locker room, PJ and Josie slid towards Hazel with a curious look.

“It didn’t look like she was angry,” PJ commented with a grin. “So, in conclusion, today was a huge success. Do you guys want to get chicken on a stick to celebrate?”

“I… I think I’m hanging out with (Y/N).” Hazel gaped, as if she couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. She was going to hang out with you. Today. Outside of school.

“Right now?”

“Right now!” Hazel gasped. “Oh my god, I don’t know why I said yes, I have to go and patrol the neighborhood–”

“-Ugh, Hazel!” PJ groaned, grabbing Hazel by the shoulders. “That’s literally all you do. You go to school, you come to the fight club, then you patrol the neighborhood. That’s all you do.”

“But—” Hazel sputtered. “-Crime–”

“-Hazel, Crime has been pretty low recently. The world isn’t going to burn down just because you miss patrol for a single day,” PJ countered, as if speaking to a child. “Do you trust me? It’s all about faith. That’s all it is. Leap of faith, Hazel. Leap of faith. Trust me when I say the police can deal with all the petty crimes. Go and enjoy yourself, finish your project, and remember to use protection.”

Hazel’s cheeks grew hot as she opened her mouth to counter PJ— just as you approached the trio with your bag.

“Hey, Hazel. Ready to go?”

Hazel buffered, her mind still on the sexual innuendo. She couldn’t help but think about certain activities when you stood there with your signature smile, earning a cackle from PJ.

“Sorry, we were just talking about juvie trauma and shit. She’s all yours.” PJ earnestly pushed Hazel towards you. “See you guys tomorrow!”

PJ skipped out of the gym, followed by Josie who gave Hazel a thumbs-up. Hazel responded to Josie with a nod. PJ was right– it was just for a day. Just one day off to hang out with you– which was the dream– and tomorrow, she would patrol twice as hard to make it up.

“Sorry, I just was thinking about-” Hazel faltered. “-things.”

“Things?”

Hazel felt the room get hotter. “It’s fine. Not really important.”

“Alright. So, where do you want to go?” You asked.

“Uh…”

Hazel thought about what PJ had said.

Leap of faith, was it?

And she took the leap.

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

By 8PM, the two of you found yourself in Hazel’s room, caught in a fit of laughter. Pizza and snacks were strewn across her bed, and music played out from her laptop as you wrapped up the project— a lego diorama with a bunch of famous murdered women. It was quite inappropriate but also incredibly creative, and the ridiculousness of it all had you two in stitches.

“I bet you 5 dollars that Mr. G doesn’t even have an actual degree,” You joked, adding a lego version of Casey Becker to the diorama. “He just showed up one day, and Principal Meyers desperately needed more teachers.”

“And ever since the club, he’s just been handing out As to every single girl,” Hazel laughed, causing you to fall into a fit of giggles as well. She lived for your laughter, thanking PJ and Josie in her head for convincing her to skip patrol for the day.

“Okay, I think we’re almost done. Just have to add the blood.” You grabbed the bottle of red paint and dropped some on your fingertip, then dabbed it around the lego characters’ bodies to create the ‘murder’ effect.

In the process, you somehow managed to smudge some on your cheek, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hazel who had made a habit of staring at you all the time.

“Oh, you got some on your…” Hazel tried, pointing to your face.

You blinked, eyes focusing on her face as you registered her words. You chuckled in embarrassment, trying to find the paint on your cheeks and obviously failing.

“Can I…?” Hazel breathed, and you tilted your head, allowing her to wipe away the streak of paint with her thumb. Her fingers moved delicately across your cheek, her eyes locked onto your’s. You could feel the warmth of her hand on your skin, and you melted against it. Hazel’s touch lingered on your cheek for a moment longer than necessary, and Hazel realized only after she had savored the view for a while.

She pulled away, breaking your gaze with a sheepish smile. Your cheeks were tinted with a soft blush, and you muttered a word of thanks before finishing off the project with distractingly loud heartbeats.

The two of you stared at the finalized diorama in proud silence, taking in the project in its glory. It was messy and odd, but it was still illustrious.

“Well, I guess we’re finished!” You clapped your hands to commemorate the ending of you and Hazel’s homework.

“It’s been fun working with you,” Hazel replied, a little disappointed that this was the end of the project. What excuse did she have to hang out with you now?

You cocked your head. “Oh, don’t act like this is the last time we’re ever going to hang out together.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” You grinned. “With Mr. G’s class, lunch, and the self-defense club, I’m going to be with you all the time. You might even get sick of me at some point.”

I’m not sure that’s possible, Hazel thought to herself, really pleased that she had secured friendship with you.

“Speaking of the self-defense club, I’m really glad that you invited me,” You continued, wiping your red hands with a nearby paper towel. “I was being honest during the sharing circle. I’m really grateful for you.”

Hazel softened at your words.

“And I hope your mom gets better with her mid-life crisis,” You added.

“Thank you.” Although you had complimented her, Hazel couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about the sharing circle. She was lying to you– continuously. Was that a good base for a relationship? Not that you two had a relationship. Not that she didn’t want one. “Listen– what Josie said about juvie today, I think I have to clarify some things.”

You shook your head. You had purposefully left out that subject not to trigger her– and you didn’t want to make it feel like she owed you her history. “Oh, Hazel, you don’t need to explain anything to me. I get that it’s a hard subject to talk about, and I just want you to know that I’m here if you need anything.”

Hazel hesitated. She supposed if you didn’t really want to hear the explanation, she could keep her secret—

“-I mean what you went through was brutal and inhumane,” You continued.

Hazel’s guilt suffocated her.

“But you endured through it. You’re so brave. And so strong and just… honest. Like I can tell that everything that you do is genuine. You make me feel like I can be strong too—”

“-Okay, I need to tell you something,” Hazel interrupted. She couldn’t handle it anymore— but she knew she couldn’t tell you the whole truth. She took a deep breath before continuing. “There are some things happening in my life right now that I can’t really… talk about. But I want to. But I can’t. It’s for your safety and I shouldn’t even be mentioning that but… you really matter to me.”

Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that.

Hazel swallowed hard and gazed at you for a reaction.

“I do?” You peered back at Hazel’s reddened face. She nodded in response and it was your turn to be flustered, not knowing what to say.

“And I… I want to be honest with you,” Hazel pressed on. “I can’t tell you the whole truth. But I—”

“-Dispatch, we have a 10-90 in progress at the bank downtown. Requesting immediate backup and EMT support.”

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Hazel quickly grabbed her laptop, which she had rigged to eavesdrop on police communications. She forgot that it automatically turned on after school. Why did it have to be now, of all fucking times?

“Was that the police?” You asked, confused.

Hazel shook her head frantically. “No, I just– it’s just another, uhm, project that I’m working on, it’s fine–”

“-Copy that. Units en route. Proceed with caution.”

“We have eyes on the suspects, attempting to establish a perimeter.”

“10-4, be advised, we’ve informed EMTs, and SWAT is en route. Keep us updated.”

Hazel hastily began typing, searching up the latest updates on the current news of the town. She managed to find the location of the bank robbery— which had everything Hazel feared for. Armed robbers, high-tech weaponry, and injured police officers.

“Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have skipped today,” Hazel muttered under her breath.

You paused. “Skip what?”

“I—” Hazel swallowed, inner conflict evident as she spoke. “-I think I have to go.”

“Go?” You paused. “Hazel, what is going on?”

Hazel didn’t answer. Instead, she stood up and grabbed her phone and her backpack, briskly heading towards the door. But you were faster, quickly running and positioning yourself in the path to block her way.

“I think I know what’s going on,” you claimed, your voice low and heavy.

Hazel froze. Oh no. You knew. You knew? How did you know? Had she been so obvious? Was it the back flip?

“(Y/N), I can explain–”

“-This is related to juvie, isn’t it?”

Hazel blinked.

“What?”

She stared at you, who looked incredibly serious, with lips pursed tight in worry. Hazel shook her head frantically. She wanted to kick PJ for even coming up with that excuse– now it was getting all tangled up with you and her hero work.

“No! It has nothing to do with juvie,” Hazel assured, trying to get past you.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Hazel.”

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows.

I kind of do.

You understood her expression as guilt. “And obviously I don’t understand fully what’s going on but if what Josie said was true and some things are happening with the people you messed with from juvie, then, I want to help you.”

You stepped closer and took her hand, holding it tight with genuinity.

“Hazel, I care about you.”

Hazel released her breath.

If you had said that in any other context, Hazel would have kissed you right there and then. Your hands felt so warm, so gentle– a bit shaky, as if you were afraid of what she would do if you let go. And your unwavering eyes– upset eyes that made it seem like her worries belonged to you too— And it took everything in Hazel to swallow back her words, gently guiding you to her bed and sitting you down.

For a moment, you thought she would stay.

But Hazel pulled away from you..

“I’ll be back soon, okay? Just please, stay here, and I’ll be back,” Hazel whispered. “I promise.”

And after a regretful look, she was gone.

“Hazel—” You called after her. “Hazel!”

Your mind began to race– where was she going? All you remembered from the police transmissions was something about the bank and the SWAT team. You reached for your phone, searching up the local news. It wasn’t hard to find articles related to the current conflict—

Masked Robbers Employ High-Tech Arsenal in Bank Heist, Defying Police Response

Bank Heist Nightmare Unfolds; Thieves Utilize Cutting-Edge Tech

Bank Robbery in Progress: Impossible to Arrest, Police Say

Police Overwhelmed in Ongoing Standoff at 1st Street National Trust Bank

This was bad. Bank robbery? High-Tech Arsenal? It sounded dangerous– more than whatever Hazel could handle, no matter how strong she was during the self-defense club. What was she going to do with these criminals? Did she owe them something? She was always writing stuff in her notebook— did it have anything to do with this?

You ignored the questions stemming from your fear– you didn’t have time to think. Hazel was out there— and she was very clearly heading to an angry, dangerous scene.

But Hazel was just a girl.

And you had to protect her.

You had to save Hazel Callahan.

Previous Chapter: The Fucking Fight Club

Next Chapter

(Guys I don't know how a taglist works so just comment "Tag me next chapter" here BUT if you want to be tagged in all chapters, put "tag me in all upcoming chapters" on THIS POST ok???)

@valenftcrush

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan spiderwoman #bottoms (2023)#josie bottoms #pj bottoms

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ladykailitha · 10 days

Text

Everything I Ever Wanted Part 1/4

The much anticipated sequel for "Not All That Glitters is Gold" the omegaverse epic that I recently wrapped up. The first chapter is here as I highly recommend you read it first.

Each chapter is based on something Steve wanted from the first story. Being a top omega escort and retiring at the top of his game. Having alpha health be brought to the forefront and actually studied. Being married and bonded. And finally having children of his own.

Just a few notes here: This not to say that surrogacy or adopt is lesser or not as important as biological birth. Because it absolutely isn't. This is about Steve being told he was only good for one thing and to learn his worth was far greater than anyone imagined.

This story is mature. There are sex scenes in here as well as full nudity, but also the first chapter has some awful pretty non-binary and sex worker prejudices that if you feel like you can't handle, don't read.

Each chapter is however long it took me to fill out that part. So some chapters are shorter than others, some times by almost 1000 words.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the first one!

****

Steve had finished packing up the last of his stuff. Chrissy would be moving in next week and fill the suite with everything that made her unique.

But as sad as Steve was to be leaving, he knew it was time. Twelve years as one of the best escorts Starcourt had ever seen was long enough, he thought.

A warm pair of arms wrapped around his waist and a wet kiss was placed on his bonding gland.

“Hey, honey,” Eddie cooed. “You ready to go?”

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s arms and sighed happily. “Yeah, love, I am.”

“You going to miss this?” he murmured, squeezing Steve tightly.

Steve hummed, thinking about it. “To some extent, but doing this well into my fifties and sixties was never in the cards for me.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “I was always too much of a romantic for that. When I first learned I was infertile it was a relief that I didn’t have to live to my parents’ high expectations for me. I had looked up to Roxie because they were living the life young me always wanted, freedom as an omega.”

“I’m glad you got that freedom, sweetheart,” Eddie said softly. “You really grew into your own. If you want to keep working for another couple of years, you’ve got it. I won’t stop you.”

Steve turned in his grasped and kissed him soundly. “No, Eds. This is what I want. I want a life with you. I want to bond and mate you. I want to carry your pups. As many as you want. Because if I was given the choice as a sixteen year old to have that freedom I always craved and the chance to marry and bare children? I would have taken it in a heartbeat. But when they thought I was infertile, the glamour of being an escort was the only choice for me.”

Eddie nuzzled Steve’s scent gland. “Okay, Stevie.” He nipped under Steve’s jaw. “Fuck, you are so hot when you get all passionate about shit. I could have you right here, right now on this floor if you’d let me.”

Steve slipped out of his embrace with a giggle. “As tempting as that would be, darling, the movers will be here in ten minutes and the cleaners in thirty. And I’m not as fast as I used to be.”

Eddie huffed impatiently.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Eddie and Steve shared a confused glance.

Steve walked to the door and opened it.

He stood there in shock for a moment. There on the side of the door frame was Roxie. Steve’s idol.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Come on in. You’ll pardon the mess, I’m moving out today.”

Roxie stepped in.

They were as beautiful in person as they had been on the poster on Steve’s wall as a teenager.

They were tall and thin, with long black hair and piercing blue eyes. No one was sure what race Roxie was because they had an exotic look no matter where they go.

Roxie was also the first non-binary omega escort the world had ever seen.

In short Steve was enamored.

Eddie gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m going to meet the movers.”

He kissed Steve’s cheek and slipped out of the door that Roxie had just walked through.

“He’s cute,” Roxie said with a smile.

Steve blushed. “I like him.”

Roxie threw back their head and laughed. “I would hope so considering you’re bonding next month.”

Steve cocked his head and grinned. “Yeah...”

Roxie held up their prizes, two champagne flutes and a bottle of champagne. “I’ve come to celebrate!”

Steve took the glasses and wandered over to the sofa. It hadn’t been moved yet, so they at least had a place to sit.

Roxie produced a bottle opener from the confines of their coat pocket and opened the champagne. Steve held out the two glasses and Roxie poured the bubbling liquid.

“Come, come,” they said. “Sit. Tell me all about the hottie that just left.”

So Steve did.

“I’m happy for you,” Roxie said. “It took me years to find my soulmate.”

Steve blinked. “Are you–no...really?”

“A golden omega? Oh yes. Really,” Roxie said with a laugh. “I just didn’t meet my bondmate until I was much older, and we never wanted children so we bonded and just never share my heats.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” Steve asked. “Spending your heats without your bondmate?”

Roxie shook their head. “No. We still share his ruts and we use as much protection as we can. But, no. I’ve gotten used to having my heats alone, adding another person would just be complicating things at this point.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Steve said with a nod. “I guess I’m young enough to miss the connection that he and I share during his ruts when I have my heats.”

Roxie smiled. “I hear you had to jump through a few hoops to bond.”

Steve sighed heavily and took a long drink, nearly draining the glass. “It was a mess. I would be the first official golden omega to retire from active escorting and that was something they wanted to carefully curate. They didn’t want a scandal like what the church had last year when Chrissy broke open the illegal nature of the amount of omegas they took in.”

“That was a nightmare,” Roxie agreed. “I was shocked by it all.”

“I’m just grateful that I’ll have a few months to prepare for the fallout before the shit hits the fan,” Steve said. “After all it won’t come out until Eddie and I get pregnant.”

Roxie hummed their agreement.

“If you’re really lucky,” they said, “maybe a year or more.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “That’s what Eddie’s hoping for, but I’m fine with either, honestly. My two biggest dreams growing up were having pups and being an escort, how that would have worked out biologically, I had no idea, I was just dumb kid. But actually getting both feels like a miracle.”

Roxie smiled, their eyes crinkling. “I’m almost sad you’re a golden omega, because I really thought you would be the one to take my place as top earner when I retired next year.”

His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. “Wait, really?” He couldn’t believe it. Roxie retire? That was unfathomable. Oh and the other thing, too.

Roxie must of read his mind because they laughed. “Yes, I’m retiring. I turn sixty-five next year, and I really can’t see myself doing it for much longer. And as for you, yes, darling. You. You are the best escort this industry has ever seen and you have the receipts to prove it.”

“They do want me to come back and teach the next batch of incoming escorts,” Steve said with a sigh smile. “From the ages of sixteen to eighteen, I’ll be teaching them everything I learned to make them better. And that’s more important than any glamour or glitz being an escort could possibly give me.”

“Then the agency is in better hands than I thought!” Roxie cried, gleefully clapping their hands together.

Steve smiled and shook his head. “You know, it’s funny. The only reason my dad even allowed me to be an escort was because there had never been a Harrington omega who wasn’t a trophy wife. They never worked a day in their lives. So when I offered to become a wet nurse to save up money to become a teacher, he blanched and said that I was going to be an escort. At least I could make money for them that way.”

He poured himself another glass and filled Roxie’s when they put out their own too.

“Well,” Roxie said smiling over their glass, “as long as you don’t start work until after you’ve bonded Eddie, that could still be true about the whole ‘no Harrington ever being a teacher’ thing.”

Steve laughed, his eyes squeezed tight, mouth open wide and just laughing with his whole chest. “Here’s to that!”

They clinked their glasses together. They talked for a little while longer, but soon Roxie had left and the movers and the cleaners filed in.

“These knothead movers,” Eddie said darkly, “were trying to duck out of doing the job because you were celebrating still.”

The older of the alpha moving team glared at him. “How was I to know that Roxie was in there?”

“From believing me when I told you?” Eddie asked, waving his arms out in front of him.

“He is so gorgeous,” one of the omega cleaners twittered.

“They,” Steve said with a frown. “Roxie uses they/them. Unless you're talking about someone else.”

The cleaner rolled her eyes. “He was a him for decades and then decides to come out non-binary? Whatever.”

“Out!” Steve said, barely containing his rage. “I will put in complaints with your bosses and management will get in new teams if they know what’s good for them.”

Eddie grinned. “You’ve got it, babe.”

Everyone filed out, the other omega cleaners hissing and snarling their dismissal at the other girl. The movers got what they wanted so they didn’t care.

As the lead mover was passing by Steve, he muttered, “Slut.”

The alpha was on the ground trapped in an arm bar, Eddie’s knee in the middle of his back.

The alpha cried out in surprise and pain. “What the fuck?!”

“That’s my omega you just insulted,” Eddie snarled, his alpha fangs extending. “And I don’t take kindly to that sort of thing. I will make sure that your company never gets a single celebrity client ever again. Steve will make sure Starcourt never uses you again, nor any other escort agency.” He yanked on the man’s arm causing him to gasp in pain. “Now I’m going to let you up, nice and slow and then you are going to apologize to Steve. Understand?”

The man nodded and Eddie got up. After a moment the alpha mover got to his feet.

“I’m waiting,” Steve huffed. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was leaning on his back leg.

“I’m sorry I called you a slut,” the man groused, rubbing the arm Eddie had yanked.

“Just because my work is different from yours doesn’t mean it’s not work,” Steve hissed. He waved his hand. “Now get out of my sight.”

The man followed his team out and Eddie slammed the door behind them.

“I’ve already contacted Powell,” Steve said. “They’ve already blacklisted both companies and have new crews being sent over.”

“Do we need to be here when they come?” Eddie asked.

Steve shook his head. “I was just cutting it fine getting the last of my stuff being packed away.”

Eddie grinned and pulled Steve in for a kiss. “Then why don’t you and I get out of here and celebrate a little bit on our own?”

“That sounds good,” Steve said, throwing his arms around Eddie’s neck. “Because that little display of yours taking down that mover was super hot.”

Eddie drew Steve in closer so they were flush against each other. “Yeah?”

Steve bit his bottom lip and nodded.

“Did my pretty little omega get wet watching his alpha take down a disgusting pig?” Eddie teased, cupping Steve’s ass with both hands.

“So wet,” Steve breathed. “Almost as wet as our first meeting, rockstar.”

Eddie licked his lips slowly and then nodded.

“Your stuff is already at my place,” he growled. “So I’m going to take you back there and fuck you into the mattress. Sound good, baby?”

Steve kissed him deeply. “Sounds so good.”

****

Part 2

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carmyboobear · 5 days

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ALEXITHYMIA CH 5: detergent, thrifting, and cake

Roommate AU: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Chapter Rating: T (11k)

ao3 link, ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4

Chapter Summary: It’s his roommate’s birthday this week, and Carmy doesn’t find out until it’s a couple days away. Once he finds they’re unluckily spending their birthday alone, he makes it his mission to make their lonely day better. It’s the least he can do. Little does he know how much more he has to discover about them and about himself.

Tags: reader having trauma, carmy having trauma, toxic families, domesticity

A/N: It’s time… it’s time. I said last chapter was the longest…just kidding. THIS ONE is the longest, and it was hardest to write so far. The duo gets to have a lot of fun this chapter, though! arguably the most so far! A lot of domestic goodness and good food and shopping! Until… :)

also HUGE shoutout to @justaconsequence on tumblr for being my beta reader for this chapter! she was so kind and so helpful. this behemoth of a fic is too much for me to proofread on my own. anyway, thanks for reading and enjoy! can't wait to hear what y'all think!

Typically, by this time on Monday morning, Carmy's usually three cigarettes deep into paperwork, urgently (and poorly) calculating the sales the restaurant needs to make this week to stay afloat. Because even though it's a Sunday closing activity, he never seems to find the occasion to get around to it, and by 10 pm, he doesn't have the capacity to be crunching numbers.

Not that 8 am is much better. At least he's not dissecting the debt this morning—he's studying detergent prices.

“Why is this one, like, almost 20 dollars?” Carmy stops reading the price tags and glances over at his roommate, who's squinting at products on upper shelves. The lights are always too bright in this place. “And for such a small bottle…”

“Pre-mixed organic sulfate-free 100% vegan bleach,” Carmy reads dully.

“So stupid.” They shake their head. “Does grocery shopping ever depress you?”

“Usually,” he replies dryly. “Inflation is pretty depressing.”

“Don’t even get me started. Capitalism in general depresses me.”

“Hm, yeah. That too.” He sighs through his nose and tries to refocus. He's having a hard time processing all the numbers and letters today. “You see any unscented detergent? Somethin’ mild?”

“Um…” They crane their neck up and down, and then they crouch on the ground. They pick up a white bottle. “How's this? It's like, 8 dollars. It's not name-brand, but…”

“You know I don't care.” He kneels with them, huddling in close. They smell faintly of a sweet, yet musky perfume. He reminds himself to focus on the detergent, not the way they smell (even if it's far more interesting). “Yeah, this looks good. Thank you.”

“For your vintage denim, right?” They stand up to put the detergent in their shopping cart, which is barely separated with his stuff vs. theirs. He doesn't understand why his face grows warm at their comment, but it does.

“Uh, yeah. It is.” If the blush shows on his face, they graciously don't comment. “Although I'll admit I don't get around to washing them as much as I should.”

“You're not supposed to wash jeans that often anyway, right?” They lean their elbows onto the rickety cart as they push it, and he ambles along next to them, matching the slow, relaxed pace of their walk.

“Yeah, but I really…” The implications are clear. They fail in suppressing a laugh, and it makes him smile. “And I’m supposed to hand wash them, so.”

“Oh, so what you're saying is that you never wash them,” they tease.

“That is not at all what I'm saying.” They make an unimpressed face. “I do laundry, it's just…”

“Not often,” they supply helpfully. He tries to come up with something, but he's got nothing. “It's okay, I understand.”

“I promise I wash my clothes,” he mumbles, wilting.

“I know.” There's that new smile he's grown to recognize more clearly. It's this mischievous one they get when they’re teasing him, and it's so cute he doesn't have any room in him to get even a little irritable. “I've seen you do laundry maybe once or twice.”

“Hey,” he says, warning, and they laugh and run ahead of him, the squeaky wheels of the cart giggling alongside them.

After the night he almost burned down their apartment, he had felt different. It was like a switch being flipped, light abruptly filling up a dark room, and he's been squinting, struggling to adjust. But as he walks with them today, grocery shopping lit by blinding white fluorescents, he finds that he can see them rather clearly.

The connection between the two of them is tangible, palpable. It's workable pasta dough that's been kneaded to uniformity. The dough is malleable, clean, and when he touches it, sticky, glutenous residue doesn't cover his palms. When he catches at them peeking over their shoulder to make sure he's still following them, he chases away the urge to pull them into his arms. He throws the desire into boiling water in hopes that enough pressure will change those feelings into something more palatable. He's not sure if it's working.

Something happened when he hugged them that Saturday night. He doesn't dare name what that “something” is, but it's rising from where it's sitting at the bottom of the pot, just about to hit the surface—

“Hey, I gotta get some stuff in this aisle.” Carmy snaps out of it and follows them as they veer the cart to the left. He raises his eyes to read the categories on the sign.

“You bakin’ somethin’?” They both move out of the way for an oncoming cart.

“Yeah, was thinking about it.” They halt to a stop in front of the boxed cake mix and step back to fully peruse the shelves. He stands next to them, and they glance at him out of the corner of their eye. “You’re not judging me for getting box mix, are you?”

“Not at all,” he answers honestly. “Food is always better when made from scratch, but box mix has its uses. Besides, I’m not a baker.”

“That’s true, but I’m sure you still make an insane cake.” Carmy’s aware he can’t make them unsee his flash of a smile, but he still shrugs. “Sure, stay humble.”

“I try. What’s the occasion?”

“Ah, nothing much. It’s just my birthday.”

“Oh, okay.”

…And he's about to move on, just as casually as it came, but then the processing finishes.

“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” They ask confusedly.

“Is it your birthday today?”

“No, um, it’s this Thursday.” He exhales in palpable relief.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He hates at how worked up he sounds.

“Um…” Their face is twinged with guilt. “...There was never a good time to bring it up?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be getting upset.” He sighs, shakes his head. “I just feel like I should’ve known, I guess.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not your fault. I never brought it up. Um…” Their hands are fiddling with the edges of their sleeves. “I just have complicated feelings about my birthday.”

“Ah, I see. I get that.” That, he can understand. “Is it all the gifts and stuff?”

“Kinda. It’s a part of it.” They lean down to grab a box of devil’s food cake, and that makes him remember that they’re in a grocery store. Not quite the best place for a personal conversation like this. They’re being vague, but he won’t press. Not right now.

“You shouldn’t be baking for yourself on your birthday,” Carmy mutters. They smile at that, but it’s different. It’s heavy with melancholy.

“It’s alright. I’m gonna be celebrating with my friends this weekend, just not on my actual birthday.” His conflicted expression persists. “It’s okay, really. It’s just a day. It’ll be enough of a present to not have to go into work.”

“Put that back,” he blurts out. “I’ll make you a cake.”

“Don’t you work?” Their eyebrows are arched in surprise. “You really don’t—”

“I know I don’t. But I want to. I do work, yeah, but I’ll, I’ll get someone to cover me.” He’s never said those words before in his life, and now that they’re out, he can’t take them back. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t want to take them back. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course,” they reply quickly.

“Then let me do this. Please.” He has no idea where this courage is coming from. “I want to. I know I'm always working, but I really…” Their eyes are wide with wonder, yet watchful. It shouldn't make him falter, but it does. His heart stutters and whatever bravado briefly gripped him fades away. “I’m…probably being too pushy right now. Tell me to fuck off?”

“I’m not gonna tell you to fuck off for wanting to bake me a cake,” they laugh, easing his worries like they always do. “C’mon, Carm.”

“So, uh, is that a yes, or…?”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not trying to ask you to take off of work for my birthday,” they start carefully, “but I wouldn’t object to it. So, yeah. It’s a yes.”

“Okay.” He can’t help his giddy smile. There's someone saying you look stupid like this, but he’s with them, and it makes everything else silent. “Okay, good.”

“You’re…being super sweet about all this.” He doesn’t understand why—maybe it’s the way they say it—but hearing that makes his neck go hot.

“I mean…friends do stuff like this, don’t they?”

“Only the good ones.” They beam beautifully at him. He hasn’t done anything to warrant their affection, he thinks, but the feeling of their smile is so warm. He can’t resist soaking in it.

He's glad that lady luck blessed him just enough to stop their birthday from passing him by. He's been itching for an opportunity to repay them for all the bullshit they've had to take from him as of recent (although he knows if he brought it up, they would say it wasn't anything worth repaying). They deserve something good from him for once, not panic attacks and nightmares.

He just wishes he could figure out why they were going to spend their birthday alone. He knows them a lot better now, but there's still so much left shrouded. He wants to know them inside and out—he wants to learn what makes them tick, what keeps them up at night, what makes them happy. He wants to know all of it in its entirety, to fill in the gaps in the puzzle he doesn't have the pieces for.

He has some of the pieces. He understands that their relationship with their family to his—distant, strained, and difficult. Unfortunately, that’s about it. He doesn’t know any of the specifics. It’s not like he’s talked to them about his family outside of the off-handed bitter remarks, just as they have, but he finds that this fact leaves him dissatisfied.

He just hopes that they'll let him in. He's not sure if they will, but…he's gonna try. He has to. He's sick of not trying.

. . . . .

“You want to take off?” Richie’s staring at Carmy like he’s grown a second head. They're taking a smoke break in the back. “I don’t know what sort of doppelganger bullshit this is, but if you’re trying to pretend to be Carmen, you’re doing a shit job.”

“Very funny, jackass,” Carmy mutters. “I’m being serious. This Thursday.”

“All day?” Carmy grimaces, but he nods. Richie shakes his head. “You’re being weird. Really fuckin’ weird.”

“I know I shouldn’t. It’s a bad idea, but—”

“Cousin, no, that’s not at all what’s goin’ on here,” Richie interrupts, and Carmy’s at a loss for words. “This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“What?” Carmy squints at him. “Are you being serious?”

“‘Course I’m serious. I’m always serious.” Carmy decides not to comment on that. “Do you know how many times I’ve tried to get you off this ship for just one fucking second?”

“As the owner of this place, you’ve tried way too many times,” he replies dryly.

“Uh, as the original co-owner of this place, you don’t listen to me enough.” Again, Carmy decides not to elaborate on that one. It’s not worth it. “Take the day off. I was running it fine before, and I’ll keep running it.”

“No, no, we’re not saying that, it was not fine,” Carmy starts, but Richie’s already flipping him off.

“Whatever, I already know, new fucking system and all that. Don’t get anxiety or whatever over it, that’s why you got Syd hustling shit your way, right?”

“Uh.” Carmy didn’t realize that Richie had even been paying attention to the new hierarchy in the restaurant, let alone respecting it in any capacity. “Yeah, she is.”

“Then it’s fine.” Richie blows smoke in his face, and Carmy swats it away with a glare. “It was fine when you came in an hour late today, wasn’t it?”

“You guys knew I wasn’t gonna come in until later,” Carmy argues, defensive (although he’s not sure if there’s actually anything to argue about).

“Exactly.” Richie sighs all of a sudden, a long one that sounds like it’s bone deep. “Carm. Let me be straight with you. You need to do this. Okay? No backing out of this one.”

“Why’re you sayin’ this? What are you sayin’?”

“It’s ‘cause of your roommate, right? This Thursday?”

“...Yeah.” Carmy pales. “How did you—?”

“Fuckin’ knew it,” Richie says, grinning. “It was obvious.”

“No way. I didn’t say shit.”

“You didn’t need to.” Richie flicks the ash off his cigarette. “They’re changin’ you, man. We can all see it.”

“...” Carmy can’t deny that. He doesn't have time to ponder on that right now. “Is it really okay?”

“Yeah, you could stand to have an attitude adjustment.”

“I wasn’t talking about that, asshole. I was talking about Thursday.”

“Yes, for fuck’s sake, it’s completely fine.” Richie claps a hand on his shoulder, solid in its grip. It makes Carmy’s eyes snap to him, mostly in confusion. “So what’s the occasion? Must be important.”

“It’s their birthday. I mean, I could just go home early that day, but—”

“Yo, if you’re gonna take off, don’t halfass it—”

“That’s not what I was gonna say. When I’m here, I can’t seem to find my way out. This place…it just has a way of trapping you in.” He doesn’t expect Richie to nod, but he does. “I know if I don’t take the whole day off, I’ll never get out of here in time. Not until it’s too late.”

For some reason, that makes Richie laugh.

“Yeah. That's it.” Richie shakes his head as smoke trails out of his mouth. “That’s just it, man. You have to make time for the things that’re important. Even the recitals where you have to listen to five year olds play twinkle twinkle little star 20 times. You can’t miss shit like this. Because once you miss it, it’s gone.”

“Rich.” Carmy wants to say something to make that haunted expression leave Richie's face, but he doesn't come up with anything in time.

“Don’t give me that look.” Richie’s hand falls from his shoulder. “I’m just tryin’ to stop you from fucking shit up. They actually seem like a good person.”

“Y’think so?”

“I do. You?”

“Yeah.” Carmy doesn’t bother hiding his smile, even though he can already sense Richie’s teasing coming from a mile away. “They’re a really good friend.”

“Friend. Sure.” Richie snorts.

“Don’t push it,” and for some reason he adds, “they were gonna spend it alone.”

“Huh. Sociable guy like them spending it alone?”

“I know. I didn't ask. Maybe I should've.”

“Maybe. I dunno, cousin. Everyone's got their secrets. Especially the ones that try to act like they don't have any.”

“You're strangely full of wisdom today.”

“Fuck right off,” Richie responds in regular Richie fashion.

“I think they're like me. Like us.” Carmy's not sure why he's saying this on a Monday afternoon at work out of all times, but the truth bursts out of him beyond his will. Richie's expression shifts into something more solemn, something recognizable. “Y'know what I mean.”

“...Yeah.” Richie claps his hand on Carmy's back again. “Shitty parents club.”

As Carmy stands there in the back, feet sore and tobacco in the air, he sees his childhood in flashes. He's five years old again and is following Mike around with scuffed sneakers and untamed hair, although he supposes that unruliness never truly changed with time. There's warm sunlight filtering through green summer leaves. He hears his mother behind him, somewhere, but maybe he doesn't.

He thinks of home, of his bedroom, and it is cold. He has homework he’s failed to complete again. It's sitting on his desk, on top of all of the other shit he can't finish. There's screaming, and he's not listening.

He blinks. He’s 30, and he hasn’t talked to his mom since Michael died.

“Shitty parents club,” Carmy repeats hollowly.

. . . . .

When Thursday morning arrives, Carmy ends up greeting his roommate with flour in his hair and eggs sizzling on the pan.

“Um,” they say, just as Carmy goes “G'morning.” They both freeze, brief awkwardness circling between them before it dissipates with their breathless laugh.

“Good morning. I didn't think you'd actually take off,” they admit.

“I said I would,” he replies quietly, but it's not accusatory. How many times had he said he'd be home for dinner just for him to arrive when they're already asleep? He tries not to make empty promises anymore. Nonetheless, he understands their surprise. “Um, I'm almost done with breakfast. I didn't get to the coffee yet.”

“Am I supposed to be offended?” They laugh. “That's the least I can do, with you doing all of this.” They sluggishly shuffle behind him to reach down into some kitchen cabinets. “It's a special day, so I'll even make us pour overs.”

“That's true. It is special.” He peeks over his shoulder, pausing from basting the eggs in brown butter to see them setting up on the kitchen island. They gently place the hourglass-shaped glass onto the counter with a light clink. He silently switches the button on for the electric gooseneck kettle to his right. “Am I allowed to wish you a happy birthday, or should I not?”

“Hm, I don't mind. Just don't overdo it, which I doubt you will.” They pull out a bag of coarse ground coffee and a filter. As soon as they open the bag, he can smell the sweet scent of the light roast floating towards him.

“Okay. Then, happy birthday,” he says as casually as he can.

“Thanks, Carmy.” He studies their expression, searching for annoyance in their content expression, but he doesn't find any. “That's not even really what I meant by today being special, though.”

“How else did you mean it?” The eggs are done. He reaches over the hot pan to cut the heat.

“Well, y'know. I dunno if we’ve ever had a full day off together.” They're carefully scooping grounds into the filter fitted on top of the glass, creating a small hill. “I think I managed to catch you coming home early on my off days sometimes, but never a full day.”

“Huh.” Carmy has to take a minute to think about that one. “Yeah, I don't know either. I think you're right.”

“Then, like I said. It's special.” They seal up the bag of coffee grounds, and then they frown. “Shit. I forgot to turn on the kettle. Can you—”

“Already did it,” he reports, pleased, and his sense of accomplishment only doubles at their sigh of relief.

“Thank god.” There's the familiar clicking sound of the kettle reaching the perfect temperature. “Just in time, too. Can you hand it to me?”

“Yes, chef,” he says, because it always makes them laugh. Today is no exception. He slides the metallic kettle over to them.

“So what delights did you whip up over there?” They ask. They begin pouring the almost boiling water over their coffee grounds in a slow circle, gradually inching towards the middle. “It smells amazing. I want the full break-down.”

“The full break-down, got it.” On two circular plates, he's carefully placing a fried egg, thick cut bacon, and a slice of toast with jam and butter. “Uh…it's nothin’ special, just stuff we had in the fridge. We've got a, uh, brown-butter fried egg with a little paprika, sage, pepper, salt…”

“Oh, just an egg made with liquid gold, no big deal,” they imitate.

“Cut it out,” he snips back, but he's smiling and they know it. “There's honestly not much to it. This thick-cut bacon was in the back, so I cooked the rest of it. And the toast is just brioche with salted honey butter and blueberry jam.”

“Carmy. C'mon. That's nothing special to you?”

“I mean.” It's not quite nothing, he thinks. “I can make nicer breakfasts, is all.”

“That's what you said when you made me garlic bread, and that fucking blew my mind.” They set the kettle down with a thunk. The glass is full of dark coffee. Prepped next to them is their favorite glass mug alongside Carmy's. He's not sure how they knew that it was his favorite, but he doesn't question it.

“I'm just letting you know that you should wait to be really impressed.”

“Too fucking late, man.” He's turned around and placed the two breakfast platters on the kitchen island, and they gawk openly at it. “Holy fuck.”

“It's ready,” he says, surprisingly meek. He can't comprehend why anxiety's hitting him now of all times. He's served acclaimed food critics, top-security government officials, and celebrities more times than he can count. Before that audience, he never faltered, but in front of his roommate in their crumpled pajamas, his heart stutters.

“Oh, wow…” They regard the food with undeserved softness. Like a punctured balloon, his anxiety immediately begins deflating. They're staring at the food like it's a painting in a museum. “You seriously didn't have to do all of this.”

“I know. I just wanted to.” He feels heat on the back of his neck. “Is…is that okay?”

“It's more than okay.” Suddenly, he notices their eyes are puffy, like they were crying. “Goddamnit, get over here.”

He only registers what's about to happen for one second before they're hugging him. Their palms are on his back, and the top of their head tucks under his chin perfectly. He makes a small, surprised noise.

“I, I'm glad you like it.” He links his arms around them, allows himself to rest his chin on their head. With their face turned to the side, their ear's pressed up against his chest, and he's instantly struck with the paranoia that they're gonna hear his rapid heartbeat.

“I haven't even taken a bite yet, and I love it.” They lean back then, arms still wrapped around him and head craned upwards to look at him. It's far too intimate for what they are, and Carmy hates how his heart beats even harder. “Thank you for doing all this. Seriously. I…”

“The breakfast's just a side thing, I'm, um, still baking you a cake.”

“What? You're doing this and a cake?”

“Um,” Carmy repeats intelligently.

“Carmy. Carmy, Carmy, Carmy.” Their words ooze affection, but surely he's just imagining it. Their hands are crawling up his back. “God, I could just ki—”

“There's the timer,” Carmy blurts out, because his phone's ringing and so are his ears. At the sound, they let him go, and he grabs two towels to retrieve the two circular cake pans from the oven. A toothpick poked through the middle comes out clean, so he sets them on a wire rack to cool.

He needs to focus on the cakes. That's the most important thing.

“Oh my god.” They lean in close to the cake and take a deep breath. “Is this—”

“Devil's food cake, yeah.” The heat searing his face is surely from opening the oven.

“You—how did you—” Their smile is luminous with joy. “You really pay attention to every little thing, don't you?”

“Sometimes. When it counts.” He fidgets awkwardly, nails picking at the sides of his fingers. “Wanna eat by the window, or…?”

“Fuck yeah I do. Can you bring the plates over? I'll have the coffee over in just a second.”

Carmy sets up at their little table first, placing the plates just right across from one another. The morning sun casts a cozy glow through their speckled window, streaking planes of light across the floor. He patiently waits and watches them pace from the fridge to the counter, splashing cream into their mugs. Through the transparent glass, he watches the white fizzle into the dark coffee, blending into a warm brown.

“Just a tiny spoon of sugar for you, right?” They peek over their shoulder, catching his stare, and he nods. He's also not quite sure how they know that, either. They've had coffee in the morning maybe a handful of times before.

He supposes they also pay attention sometimes, when it counts.

“Alright, here we go.” They bring a mug in each hand and set them delicately down on the table. He notes that his coffee is the perfect color. “Oh, thanks for waiting. You didn't have to.”

“I, I guess so, yeah. It's just, uh, you always wait for me, so…”

“That's—that's true.” An odd tension sets in their face, but they laugh it off, and it disappears. “I guess I’m not used to it anymore.”

A part of him wants to ask further by what they meant by that, but they're already taking pictures of his food so dutifully. He doesn't want to ruin it, so he eats.

It's nice to have a solid breakfast for once. He had taken their advice from the other night and had been drinking milk with protein powder. It was nice not to feel like he was teetering the edge by lunch time, but truthfully, it was a bit unsavory. This breakfast platter is much more palatable. It also helps that his stomach pains aren't active today.

Time rolls by slowly this quiet morning, and Carmy recognizes the oddity of it immediately. It's clear to see when by this time, he's usually already done at least ten laps through the restaurant. An irritating signal in his brain is telling him that he needs to get up and do something, not sit around and eat, but for once, he doesn't want to listen.

A memory from roughly two weeks ago (or was it one week?) unearths all of sudden. He was up early, drinking shitty coffee and sinking into dissociation. Mornings were lonely, as he was usually the only one up, but not that day. His roommate came stumbling into the kitchen, awake from a restless night. They chatted before he had to head out, and he remembers wishing he had more time in the morning to spend with them.

He imagined a morning just like this one, with pajamas, food, and messy hair. He daydreamed about having all the time in the world, and he thought about getting to spend it all with them. Now he’s sitting in that moment he imagined, except that it’s real. They're across from him in their wrinkled pajamas and bedhead, contentedly mowing through their food. There's a smear of jam on the corner of their mouth. He takes a sip of his coffee, and it's perfect, just as they made it for him.

This amount of good should scare him, needs to scare him, but he just can't bring himself to care anymore. He wants more than nightmares, cigarettes, and floating just above the budget. He wants this.

He tastes his coffee and reminds himself that he’s still here. The moment hasn’t passed him by.

“Is it good?” He asks quietly. It’s a rhetorical question, it always is, but he can’t help himself. He wants to hear it from them.

“So. Fucking. Good.” They have to finish chewing before they answer. “You always knock it out of the park. If this is the prelude, I don’t know if I can handle what’s next,” they say, gesturing towards the cooling cake.

“It won’t be ready for a while yet. You have time to prepare yourself.” That makes them smile. All according to plan. “Got anything in mind for today?”

“Nothing glamorous. I was just gonna go out for a little. Go thrifting, maybe watch a movie later. Smoke a joint.” They shrug. “Just my usual sort of thing.”

“Mm.” He dusts off crumbs from the toast off his fingers on his pants. “Sounds like a good time. You still wanna go?”

“I do, yeah.” They stare at him for a moment, as if processing his words. Or just him. “Do you…wanna tag along, or…?”

Whenever they ask him if he wants to spend time together (whether it’s grocery shopping, smoking, or watching a show), they usually offer it with an air of nonchalance. Carmy’s assumed it’s been out of politeness, restraining their expression as to not put any pressure onto him. That’s the person he’s used to, not this uneasy anxiety, someone afraid to ask him to spend time with them.

It reminds him of himself in every way.

“I’d love to tag along,” he answers easily, just as they’ve always done for him. “I’ve got the whole day off, after all.”

“Right. ‘Course.” He watches their little smile double in size. “I promise to not make you watch me try on clothes for too long.”

“I wouldn’t mind. I like thrifting, y’know.” And you, he thinks to himself.

“You do? Oh, of course—” They make a contemplative noise to themself. “Vintage denim. I always wondered how you managed to have so many pairs.”

“Once you know where to look, they’re pretty easy to find. I can help you find some, if you want.”

“I’d love that. I realized the other day that I don’t have any dark wash jeans, so—actually, the truth is that I do have a pair, but they’re so fucked up and old that I never wear them anymore. Anyway, I need new jeans. Think you could find some dark wash blue jeans for me?”

“If you’re willing to hit up more than one store, then definitely,” he replies, just a smidge cocky.

“I’m willing to hit up even two more stores.” He pretends to gasp, to which they nod confidently. “Yeah. That’s right. Maybe even three.”

“We won’t need three,” Carmy promises. “I’m better than that. Probably won’t even need two, but…” He shrugs. “We’ll see what they’ve got.”

“Okay, Mr. Confident over here,” they tease. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”

They head out after they both clean the kitchen and freshen up. Carmy gets the flour out of his hair and rewets his hair to revive some of his curls. He silently thanks his past self for showering the night before. With the passage of the morning cold and the rising sun, the afternoon weather’s become brisk and pleasant. However, the weather’s barely a factor in how he’s dressing.

Is this too much? Is this not enough? He’s switching shirts and pants in the mirror like he’s about to go on a date. He knows he’s not, swears to himself that he’s not, but he’s put product in his hair and cologne on his wrists and temples. It’s not a date, but he can’t fucking decide what to wear.

He sucks it up and settles on a gray sweater, light wash blue jeans, and white sneakers. From under his collar and at the bottom of his sweater peeks out a brown button up. It’s probably too much, but this is his sixth outfit change. He’s fed up with it and himself.

After adjusting the gold chain that got hidden under his collar, he steps out.

He finds them already waiting by the door in this thick knit cardigan and fitted plaid pants that makes his heart stutter. When they hear him approaching, their head snaps up from their phone, and their skin sparkles with touches of makeup.

“You look really nice.” He has no idea how he let that slip, but he’s more shocked that he didn’t stutter once.

“Ah, th—thank you,” they stammer, fingers fidgeting with the edge of their sleeve. He’s not sure if it's their makeup or their skin that’s doing the blushing. It’s nice to see them being the one tripping over their words for once. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

“Oh. Um.” Handsome? It echoes in his head. He instantly feels self conscious. So much for being the more suave one for once. “Thanks, uh…I just didn’t wanna wear my work clothes,” he lies in an attempt to ease his embarrassment.

“I gotcha.” He’s glad they don’t challenge him on it. “Shall we head out?”

“Yeah. Where we headed first?”

They take the metro to their personal favorite shop a little up north. The metro’s surprisingly busy for a Thursday afternoon, but the crowd forces the two of them to be huddled next to each other. They’re both standing close to a pole by the window, each with one hand wrapped around the metal.

As passengers come and go, they step closer to him to move out of the way. Eventually it just gets to a point where they’re standing nearly pressed up against his chest. He tries not to dwell on how that makes him feel, but he can smell the fragrance they put on, and it’s very distracting.

Luckily, the ride is short. Any longer on the train, he might’ve put an arm around their shoulder, god forbid.

“If we can’t find what I’m looking for here, maybe you can show me one of your favorite spots to go thrifting,” they say as they enter the thrift store. The interior is decorated, clean, and lovely, and unlike the metro, it’s not packed to the brim with people. It smells faintly of incense, and there’s local art framed all over the walls for sale. It oozes warmth and excitement, much like them.

“There’s a ton of shit here, so maybe we won’t need to after all.” He finds himself intaking everything at once, eyes flickering from sign to sign. “I’ve never been here before. This is really cool.”

“It’s my favorite place to find new clothes.” They trail down the racks, finger flitting between clothes. “I hope you can find something you like here, too.”

“I’m sure I will.” He’s already walking to their denim section and immediately spots some contenders. “I think I already have.”

He’s not sure if they mean to spend hours in there, but he certainly does. There’s more than just clothes to look at, although that’s what takes up most of his time. There’s dishes, furniture, cds, vinyls, books, even electronics. He goes back and forth with them, clothing articles piling up in his arms as they sit on battered couches together and peruse scratched cds. Everywhere he looks, there’s just more, more, and more.

“Okay, I’ve gotta cut myself off,” they say as they leave the furniture section. They’ve sat on nearly every chair in that place. “I already have so many clothes to try on, and that’s not even including the jeans you’ve picked out for me.”

“If it helps, some of these are mine.” Carmy flips through the layers of hanging jeans that have built up on his forearm. “If you can believe it, I even found some stuff that isn’t denim.”

“I’m not sure if I can, but seeing is believing.” They thumb through some long-sleeves he’s carrying that are seeping out from under the jeans. “I’m just glad you were able to find some stuff for yourself, too. Not that I was that worried.”

He hands them the jeans he’s found for them, all dark wash and in their size. To his surprise, they also hand him an article of clothing for him to try on.

“I thought you’d look good in this. You’ll have to show me when you try it on,” they say, and it’s innocent, completely meaningless, but as soon as Carmy agrees and rushes to hide in the changing room, he views in the mirror and sees his flushed face.

Doesn’t mean anything, he repeats to himself, over and over and over. Stop getting in over your head.

He tries on his items of choice first. The first is a dark green henley that looked better on the rack than it did him, so he puts it in the reject pile. The second is a dark blue long sleeve that fits just right. It’s cheap, too, so it’s an automatic purchase. He presumes the way to word it is that it hugs him in all the right places, but he’s not sure. The rest are jeans, of which only one he decides to buy. A bit pricey, but for the brand and year, it’s worth it (although he basically always uses this reasoning with himself).

Now, for the piece of clothing they picked out for him. It’s a dark brown t-shirt that seems like it’s just the right length. It’s a muted, yet warm brown, a bit rosey in hue. He doesn’t realize it’s a v-neck until he gets it over his head and down his shoulders.

“I’ve never worn a v-neck before,” he calls out to the room next to him.

“Oh, are you trying it on? Do you like it?” Their slightly muffled voice calls back to him.

“Um…I’m not sure,” he admits with a shaky laugh. The collar is lower than he’s used to. It dips below his collarbones, and between them dangles his chain. “Should I show you?”

“Yes! Hold on, lemme get some pants on. …Okay, I’m stepping out!”

He hears their door open alongside his. When they see him, their expression snaps into what he believes is surprise and delight. He’s sure he looks somewhat the same.

They’re wearing one of the vintage jeans he picked out for them—dark blue Levi’s. Although they’re rolled up a couple times at the bottom, it seems to fit them just right. As he stares, he’s reminded of his many pairs of Levi’s, and it’s more or less like seeing them in his clothes, which is. Which is. Uh. Yeah.

“I knew that would suit you,” they say with a grin, to which he realizes he can’t hide his blush.

“It’s not weird?”

“Not at all. It looks good.” They tilt their head to the side as they openly look him over, hip cocked. Something in their gaze is making him hot. “No pressure to buy it, of course.”

“It’s different from what I’m used to, but…” He looks down, smooths the fabric with his palm. “It’s kinda nice, something like this. Um, and what do you think about the jeans?” He needs to direct the attention off him quickly.

“Oh, I love them. The others ended up fitting not quite right on me, but that’s how it goes.” They move from side to side, almost twirling. It’s cute. “I love these, though. Just a little long, but I’m used to it.”

“That’s how it always is. I can hem them for you, if you want. I usually hem mine.”

“And he sews,” they say, seemingly to themself, but they’re looking right at him. Embarrassing. “If you don’t mind, that’d be amazing. Either way, I’m probably getting them.”

“Good. You should. They fit well.”

“Yeah?” They glance back into their fitting room, likely examining themself in the mirror, and then back at him. “Okay, then. Definitely getting them.” With that and a cheeky grin, they go back into their dressing room to try on the rest of their clothes. Carmy follows suit, grateful to hide his embarrassed face.

Carmy heads to check out with the dark blue long sleeve, a pair of jeans, and the brown v-neck. They’ve decided on the pair of jeans they showed him earlier and a little purple tank-top he wishes he got to see on them.

“Will that be all for you today?” The cashier asks him as he checks out first. Even the cashiers here are pretty nice, he finds.

“Oh, their stuff, too.” He nods to them, who’s standing right next to him.

“Carmy.” They glare at him.

“What?” He feels himself smiling.

“You can’t do this to me.”

“C’mon.” He nudges them gently with his elbow. “It’s my present to you.”

“Oh, so the present wasn’t the breakfast? Or the cake? Or helping me pick these out?”

“Why can’t it be all of them?” He decides to stop this in its tracks and takes the clothes out of their hands, sliding it onto the counter. “Just these two, and that’ll be it.”

“Just you wait until your birthday hits,” they mutter darkly, shaking their head. “Just you wait.”

“I haven’t told you my birthday.” He pauses. “Right?”

“I’ll ask Richie.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re giving me no choice.”

“You could also just, I don't know, not ask—”

“I wouldn't have to if you didn't force my hand—”

“You guys are cute together,” the cashier comments with a smile, surely a harmless, meaningless thing, but it shuts the both of them up. Carmy can already feel the impact of it on his psyche, and he decides to tuck away the surging emotions to unpack later. At least, he'll try.

“You really didn't have to get those for me,” they tell him when they're exiting the store. “But I guess I should just be saying thank you. So…thank you.”

“Sure. I mean, it would've been better if it was wrapped and stuff, but…” He shrugs. “Had to get you a real present, not just food.”

“Not just food, my ass.” That makes him laugh. “It'll be nice to have something to remind me of this day, though. That's one of the nice parts of getting gifts. Everytime I wear these clothes, I'll think of you.”

“Good. Yeah, that's…good,” he finishes lamely. He nods like their words haven't flustered him, but he's sure they can tell. They laugh, and he can tell it's because of his reaction.

“I'm sorry that the cashier said that,” they say out of nowhere.

“Why're you apologizing? It's not your fault.” Any embarrassment he was feeling before is immediately replaced with a new, more potent sort of embarrassment. He was hoping they wouldn't mention it.

“I guess that's true. I don't know, I just…” They trail off. “Just hope it didn't upset you.”

“Not at all,” he lies, and he prays they believe it.

. . . . .

The metro is less crowded on the way home. They sit comfortably next to each other and watch the city pass them by. A part of Carmy mourns the closeness they had on the way there, but the other part tells him to get it together and keep his distance.

“I'mma take a nap,” they say with a yawn. Their cardigan and bag have been tossed onto the couch. The new clothes have been thrown into the laundry machine, and there's the muffled sound of running water. “Maybe we could smoke and watch a movie later, though.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” He peers into the fridge to check on the cake rounds. Just as he left them. “Have a good nap.”

“Thanks, Carm,” they reply sleepily. “Wouldn't be a good day if I didn't get to have a nice nap, after all.” With that, they shuffle into their room and shut the door behind them.

Carmy spends the next two hours flying around the apartment, baking, cooking, cleaning. The sun slowly sets as he goes. He keeps his body and hands moving in hopes that his head doesn't have a chance to catch up, but it manages to keep the pace. It always does.

The crumb coat's fucked up on the left, his first train of thought says. He inspects the surface, eyes following the circumference of the cake. There's a little loose crumb. With the edge of his spatula, he tucks the crumb away.

The faint smell of chocolate wafts up from the cold cake rounds. He's hunched over the kitchen island, hands reaching between dark chocolate frosting and cake. The afternoon sun casts harsh lights onto the cake, and it glistens. He genuinely can't remember the last time he's made a layered cake. He's never been much of a baker, anyhow.

You're going to disappoint them, his second train of thought interrupts, running parallel to the other one at full speed. Who do you think you are? You don't make cakes.

He leans back, inspects his work. The crumb coats are perfect.

Fuck off, he thinks back, triumphant. Look at that shit. He runs his finger along the spatula, picking up congealed crumbs and frosting. He licks it off, and it's delicious. And it tastes good, asshole. So shut the fuck up.

You're being a nuisance, the thoughts continue. Carmy's pops the crumb coats in the freezer for a quick set. They don't actually like any of this. They're just being nice to make you feel better.

They seemed happy to me, he thinks, but he's faltering. He's washing the dishes, and the sensation of the warm water feels distant. They loved the food I made.

Couldn't you tell they were lying? He doesn't understand why these thoughts are rampaging through his head now of all times. It's not unfamiliar, but it's inconvenient. Keep this up, and you'll actually be surprised when they drop you.

Without warning, a memory hits him . As his hands drip with soap, he's reminded of playing with Michael and Sugar in the summer when he was five. Or six, or seven, he's never quite sure. They were outdoors at a local park, and the heat made the metal of the playground searing hot to the touch.

He was blowing bubbles, and the sticky mixture from the bottle was getting all over his hands. In his memory, Carmy watches the way the iridescent bubbles floated away and left little circles on the surface of the plastic slide. He can't remember why he wasn't playing with the others. He can remember the sound of their laughing voices in the distance, gleeful and delighted without him. He thinks he tried to join in, but it didn't work. It often just didn't work, and it was all his fault.

The memory ends, and Carmy's finished washing the dishes.

This is working, he thinks to himself. His hands are dried out from the hot water and soap. I swear to you, it's working. So just stop. Okay?

There's no response. Good enough.

He hears the door opening as soon as he's putting the finishing touches on the cake. With a damp paper towel, he carefully swipes away stray drops of frosting that fell onto the cake stand. He thinks it's best described as if a tiramisu was turned into a devil's food cake. It's not the best cake he's ever made, but it's definitely up there in terms of looks. All the components of the cake tasted good separately, so he hopes it makes sense in his mouth as much as it did in his head.

“Have a nice nap?” He asks before he turns his head. They're standing in the hallway, bed hair hastily tied back.

“Sorta. It was okay.” Their eyes are glued onto the cake as they walk up to the island. “Is this…?”

“This is for you, yeah,” he finishes for them. They take a seat on one of the chairs at the island. “It's a, uh, devil's food cake with vanilla mascarpone cream on the inside. The outside's this coffee buttercream…” He trails off, not knowing what else to say. He could mention the dutch processed cocoa powder, the expensive vanilla bean pods, or the endless sifting, but it feels too gratuitous.

“Wow…” They're still staring, as if it's not quite real to them. “I can't believe this is for me. It almost looks too pretty to eat, but you know I can't wait to tear into this.”

“We could, uh, have it now, if you, if you want,” he says hesitantly.

“I don't know if I could wait.” Their smile grows wider. “You even put candles on it?”

“We don't have to light them or anything if you don't want to,” he adds quickly.

“The candles are the fun part. I don't mind that. The song is…okay I guess, but…” They give him an expectant, excited look. “Were you gonna sing for me?”

“...Only if you wanted to,” he mumbles, suddenly stricken with embarrassment.

“Would that be okay? If I wanted that?”

“I wouldn't mind.” Not if it's you.

“Okay. Then, yeah.” They pull out a lighter from their pocket. “I’d really like that.”

Carmy cuts the overhead lights before taking out his own lighter to help them light the rest of the candles. One by one, the dark room gradually illuminates until it's filled with a warm, orange glow. The flickering flames cast shifting shadows onto their smiling face and reflect into their glossy eyes.

“Ready?” He asks quietly.

“I'm ready,” they whisper.

Carmy doesn't really need to clear his throat, but he does so anyway. He can't recall the last time he sang happy birthday to anyone, let alone by himself. This is the first time he's ever sung in front of an audience, too.

I can do this, he thinks to himself. I can do this.

His voice is awkward and scratchy. He never uses it like this, has never sang for anyone in his life. His ears burn, and he hates the sound of his voice, but he reminds himself to focus on their delighted little smile and warm gaze. The room is far too quiet for his voice, making the words painfully clear.

“Happy birthday to you,” he finishes singing, voice trailing off awkwardly. He's more than ready to finish singing now. “Uh, make a wish…?”

“Right.” The two of them sit in the flickering candle light for a moment longer, the silence thick. Carmy watches their face, their eyes boring into the candles with an expression he can only describe as longing. Then, they blow out the candles with a decisive blow, and the room goes dark.

He moves to switch on the lights. When he turns back to look at them, tears are streaming down their face.

“Hey,” he says softly. He props his elbows on the counter, standing across from them and tilting his head to the side. They're not meeting his gaze, glazed eyes boring into the dripping candles. “What's wrong?”

“I'm sorry,” they whisper with a sniffle, and it sounds like a reflex. Something about them suddenly seems so much smaller. “I shouldn't be crying.”

“It's okay. I don't mind.” That makes them smile, even if it's shaky. “Was the singing too much?”

“No, it wasn't your singing,” they say with a laugh. “Your singing was lovely. It's just—I'm so happy. You made today so special.”

“Yeah?” He fights the urge to reach over and wipe their tears. “I'm glad. I wanted to make it good. I…” He hesitates. “...I didn't like the idea of you spending it alone.”

“I didn't either. And I thought I was going to have to be alone…but then you—then you took off work, and you made me breakfast, you went shopping with me—even got me clothes—and now this—” Another rush of tears gushes from their eyes, and they hastily wipe at it with their shirt.

“You've done way more for me. This is the least I could do.” Before he can stop himself, his hand is brushing hair out of their eyes. They freeze for a split second, eyes finally flickering up towards him. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It's okay,” they whisper back. “Um…” They let out a shaky sigh, the sort of trembling sound that happens after crying too much. “I feel like I should explain.”

“You don't have to if you don't want to,” he assures them quickly, “but I…I'd like to know. If that's okay.”

“I want you to know. I, I do.” They open their mouth to keep talking, but shaky breaths continue to stifle them. It's hard to watch.

“Breathe,” he reminds them, quietly. He visibly takes in a deep breath, silently encouraging them to breathe with him. They follow suit, closing their eyes and taking a slow breath. Tears slip silently from their eyes. Gradually, their breathing becomes less of a staccato, evening out into something much more manageable.

“Thank you,” they murmur. He nods. They already sound a lot calmer. “I'm not sure where to start. I…I suppose I'll start with today.” Another deep breath. “I didn’t get a call from my parents today.”

“Ah…” The first missing piece.

“I knew they weren’t going to. But a part of me still hoped…” They stop and shake their head. “It's the first year that it's been like this.”

“What happened?”

“Uh…I went no contact with my family about a year ago.” Another pained, hollow laugh. The second piece. “I didn't even really want to—it was a complicated, shitty situation. My parents were being their usual shitty selves, and I just wanted them to apologize. It was over such a small thing, and, and I just…I don't know. I thought maybe I could fix things.” He's never seen them with such a heavy expression, etched with such weariness. “I just wanted them to apologize to me, Carm. That's all I wanted. And then they cut me off cold.”

Their voice is trembling again, and the tears are falling faster. The collar of their shirt is dark with moisture. Carmy hates that he doesn't know what to say. He hates just staring at them, silent as he tries to find the words.

Suddenly, he thinks of Michael.

“Michael never let me work in the restaurant,” he tells them. “That's why I went to culinary school. A big part of it, anyway. He just cut me off, didn't let me in no matter what I did, and it was…” He makes a vague hand gesture. “I felt insane. I was so fucking angry. I couldn't understand him. And I'm not saying that's anything like what you've been through, but…” He looks into their watchful eyes. “I'm sorry. I think I'm trying to say that I, that I understand. A little.”

“I…I appreciate that.” They give him a small, wobbly smile. He adores their smile, but seeing it through their tears twists something painfully in his chest. “He would've been lucky to have you. You're an excellent chef.”

“I am now, anyway.” He sighs. “Your family's missing out on you, too. You're…” Say it. Just say it. “You're a really wonderful person. I can't imagine…”

I can't imagine anyone looking at you and not loving what they see, he thinks suddenly, and he instantly realizes he can't say it. He can barely even comprehend that he just thought it.

He can't process this right now. This isn't the time.

“I keep trying to wrap my head around it all, wondering what I did wrong, what I could've done better… Sometimes, the conclusion I arrive at is that I must have done something to deserve this. That I just, I don't know, that maybe I'm just this permanent fuck-up, and…” They run a tired hand over their wet face, through their hair. “My parents fucked me up real good, man.”

There's something familiar about their words, and Carmy realizes it's because it sounds like him. He would've never guessed that under their easy-going smiles was a reflection of himself. He recognizes himself in their self-deprecation, the bone-deep pain. There was always a sense of sympathetic connection between the two of them, but he had no idea. He had no idea how far deep the mutual experiences went.

A part of him still can't believe that this is the truth, that this is what lies at their core, but then he remembers. He thinks about the night they were throwing up into the toilet. They were sobbing, crying into his shoulder about how much they hate themself.

“You know you didn't deserve it. Right?” Carmy's not sure when they started leaning in so close to each other. He's looking at their wet eyelashes with startling clarity. “You did all you could.”

“You don't know that.” Their words are so soft-spoken, but it still catches him off guard. “You don't know what happened.”

“You—” Irritation prickles inside him, his instincts itching to snap back, but he doesn't. He sees himself in them, and he holds back. “You're right. I don't know what happened. But I know you.” The shock is on their face as clear as day. “At least, I think I do.”

“I want to think you do, too,” they whisper. “But this—this messy bullshit is also me. I wish it wasn't. I wish you didn't have to see all this. I…don't want you to…think any less of me.”

“I don't think there's anything you could do to make me think less of you.” He doesn't resist dragging his thumb across a stray tear on their cheek. To his surprise, they lean into his touch. “Y'know when I almost burned down the apartment?”

“Oh my god.” They smile, and he feels their grinning cheek against his palm. “Yeah. Is it crazy to say I remember it fondly?”

“A little bit.” They laugh. It's quiet, but it's real. “Remember that talk we had after?”

“I do. Why?”

“You're allowed to mess up on onions,” he says softly. “It won't push me away.”

They stare at him for what feels like a long time. Their eyes refill with tears, but they don't spill. With a clammy hand, they shakily place their hand on top of his hand that's still cradling their wet cheek.

“Fucking onions,” they say finally with a wet laugh. Fresh tears drip onto his thumb, and he wipes them away again. As many times as it takes. “God damnit, Carmy.”

“No one deserves to have shitty parents, let alone ones that walk out on them.” He thumbs away more tears. “You being an imperfect person like everyone else doesn't justify that.”

“There must be something more I could've done,” they whisper. “Something I did wrong.”

“Maybe. But they're your parents, not the other way around. It's not your fault.”

“I know. I know that. I do. There just has to be a reason, because—fuck—the truth would just be too fucked up.”

“...And that is?”

It takes a long, still minute before they can get their words out.

“...It’s—it's that—” Their cries are verging on sobs, increasingly more staggered and uncontrollable. “It's that s-some kids—are just—some kids have parents that will never—never love—”

They can't finish. Their sobs have overtaken their whole body. Their body's hunched over the counter, curled into themself. Carmy can't think of a time where he's ever seen them crying so hard.

Without another word, Carmy pulls them into a hug.

They cry for a long time. Through it all, fleeting condolences pass Carmy by in his head, but they all feel too cheap, too meaningless. So all he does is hold them tight, letting them grab onto his shirt and soak the fabric on his shoulder. It's all he feels he can really do.

After a while, the tide subsides. He feels them wilting in his arms, exhausted from sobbing so violently. He doesn't actually want to let them go, but their sniffling nose sounds like it's completely stopped up.

“I'm gonna get you some tissues, ok?” He says quietly. They make a quiet noise of acknowledgement, and they pull back. He snatches up a box of tissues from the coffee table. He places it in front of them before grabbing them a glass of water.

“Thank you,” they mumble, voice scratchy. Carmy stands and watches as they blow through several tissues. The water gets downed instantaneously.

“Better?”

“Yeah. A lot better.”

“Good.”

“...I think, deep down, I know I didn't deserve what happened. Or just having shitty parents in general.” They sigh. “It's just easier to think that I do. That I deserve it.”

“...Yeah.” That resonates with a part of him he's not quite ready to acknowledge. “You're one of the kindest people I've ever met,” he admits quietly. “If someone like you deserves a shitty hand in life, I'm fucked.”

“Carmy…” Their smile is small, but genuine. “Thank you. I want to be able to genuinely believe that, one day. I'm going to try.”

“I know. I get it.”

“I know you do.”

That makes both of them smile, even if it's bitter.

“Thanks for telling me. About everything.”

“No, thank you for listening. For just being there for me.” They prop their chin in their hands, their elbows resting on the counter. “Y'know, this past year, I've been trying to find a sense of joy in all this mess. Sometimes it just feels so far away, like…like any happiness is just impossible. But I think I've found it. Rather, I've already found it.”

“Yeah?” Carmy looks at them expectantly, but he never expected this—

“I found you,” they tell him.

“...” He immediately fixes his shocked expression. He's at a loss for words.

Me?

“I never found a chance to mention it, but…my parents are the reason I decided to live with you. That's why I wanted to be your roommate, even though we were strangers.” They shrug shyly. “My lease was up on my last place. I was gonna go home, but then all that stuff happened at the last minute, and…yeah. I needed to find a place to live.”

“Seriously?” They just nod. “Damn. Uh…Yeah, that's fucking crazy. I had no idea.”

“At the time, I was miserable. I kept thinking to myself, ‘I can't believe how shitty this situation is!’ Don't get me wrong, it was fucking awful, but…it led me to you, so…it wasn't really all that bad, in the end. I got lucky.”

Fucking hell, he thinks to himself. Fuck.

“If you hadn't roomed with me, I wouldn't have been able to come back home for my brother's restaurant,” he says, mostly because he's so embarrassed that he swears his whole body's red at this point. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. “I think I'm the lucky one.”

“Can't we both be lucky?”

“I guess we can. Just doesn't seem very realistic.”

“Little too late to say that. It's already real.”

“...There's no other shoe?”

“Not that I know of. I think the other shoe's already dropped for us a while ago. Surely there's no other shoes left?”

“I hope not. I don't know if I could take another one.”

“Me neither.”

“...”

“Do you…want to eat your cake now?”

“Fuck, oh my god—I completely forgot! Yes!”

Just as Carmy planned, the flavors go perfectly together. Even though he knew it was going to be delicious, when he takes the first bite of the cake, relief washes over him. They seem to be overjoyed, inhaling the cake at dangerous speeds.

“You're gonna hurt yourself if you eat that fast,” he observes, both amused and concerned.

“Can't talk. Need to eat this.” That makes him laugh so abruptly he nearly gets cake up his nose. “This is the best birthday cake I've ever had, both visually and taste-wise.”

“I'm glad. Like I said, I'm not really a baker, but…I make an alright cake.”

“You make a fantastic cake.” They’ve got a bit of frosting on the corner of their mouth. “It doesn't get much better than this—eating a cake made by you.”

“Because I'm a chef, you mean?”

“No, not that. Not just that, anyway,” they amend with a cheeky grin. “Because you're my best friend.”

You're my best friend.

…

I'm their best friend, he repeats to himself. I'm their best friend.

He thinks about crying. He won't cry, but he thinks about it.

“Oh,” he replies intelligently. “...Really?”

“Y-Yeah. Unless, uh, you don't—”

“You're my best friend too,” he blurts out, and the anxiety on their face fades away into a relieved, beautiful smile.

“Thank god. That would've been pretty awkward if you didn't…” They shake their head.

“I've never been anyone's best friend before,” he confesses.

“Seriously?” They recover from the shock quickly. “Lucky me, then.”

“I thought you established we were both the lucky ones.”

“Oh, right.” They chuckle. “Lucky both of us, then.”

Carmy thought that life would always be the same. He thought that he was fated to a routine of nausea and nightmares, never quite close enough to reach a rest point. He thought that he was okay with it being his fate, because he never knew anything else.

He thought that loneliness, cigarettes, and memories would be enough, because it always stays the same. Nothing ever changes.

Until them.

He thought he had outgrown happiness, that his body had grown accustomed to living without it. That there was no longer space in his heart to withstand the weight of joy. But as he sits here with his roommate, chatting and laughing over a cake he made for them, he finds that's not true.

His capacity for happiness had never left. It had been there all along.

And with that, something in him lets go.

Carmy sees it all at once. It starts from the beginning—he sees the first day he met them, an initially hesitant meeting gone surprisingly well. He sees the first time the two of them smoked together, deliriously laughing through shared smoke. He sees them in the mornings, messy hair and wrinkled t-shirts. He sees them in nothing but an apron. He sees them in tight black clothes that leave little to the imagination. He sees them laughing at a joke that he didn’t think was all that funny.

He sees them in his dreams, red tomato puree bleeding from their gums. He sees them holding his trembling hands in theirs, soothing him back down from the storm in his hand. He sees them comforting him through his tears. He sees them sobbing, hot tears on their cheek and his hand. He sees them heaving into the toilet, whispering that they want to know him. He sees himself, embracing them tightly in his arms.

He sees it all. He knows that he can't avoid it anymore.

Carmy is completely, undeniably in love with them, and there is absolutely nothing that he can do to make that realization disappear.

…Some things, he understands, refuse to stay the same.

@zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @carmenbrzatto @thehouseofevangelista

#carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy the bear #the bear fx #my fics #alexithymia fic #GOD. IT'S FINALLY HERE. THIS ONE'S A BEAST.#ch 6 is gonna be the climax..... it's gonna happen yall. it's finally here. hahahaha #anyway this one took so long to write because it was so revealing for me... as i'm sure yall have guessed. sigh.

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elcpsstuff · 9 months

Text

The Summer I Remembered You (C.F) (Part 4)

a/n: how we feeling so far you guys? I don’t know how long this story will be but definitely at least 10 chapters if not more :) enjoy!

—

2 years go, age 15 (Fall)

“Frankie gets me so angry sometimes, even though I love her” I tell Conrad over the phone as I walk outside. The cool night breeze hits me like a wave I’ve been waiting for.

“she’s a lot, but she has a good heart” He replies.

“you do remember when she came for the fourth this summer?” I could hear him laugh through the phone.

“Yeah, how could i forget when she sucked off Jeremiah’s face during spin the bottle.”

That’s right. She did do that. I still remember when she had purposely stopped the bottle to land on him. Only I had noticed.

Silence had never been more noticeable.

“Well,” Conrad starts, “I wouldn’t have kissed her.”

I smile. “That would be funny.” No it wouldn’t. I would’ve lost all my brain cells. Jeremiah was hard enough.

I hear him laugh through the phone silently.

“So I learned something today.” I say, sitting down at the steps of our driveway.

“oh yeah? tell me.” I could tell he was smiling which made me smile.

“So my science teacher is a total love sap, and she told us today that if we see a shooting star it’s a sign of love, and that we’ve found our soulmate.” I couldn’t help the laugh that left my lips. “Isn’t that weird? She’s so cringey.”

Conrad didn’t say anything.

“Conrad?”

“That’s cute.” He says softly.

“Of course you would think it is.” I roll my eyes playfully.

“Hey, stop that.”

I giggle. “You can’t really make me stop, your hours away.”

“I wish I wasn’t. I miss you.” He says so quietly, like he didn’t want me to hear. But I did anyways. I always heard Conrad.

“I miss you too. Don’t worry though, the summers come fast.” I reassure him, and I think myself too.

“yn! What are you doing out here?” I hear a voice yell and I know it’s Stevens. I pull my phone away from my ear and see it’s 12:06 am. Shit. it’s late.

“Your gonna get kidnapped! Who are you talking to?”

Conrad laughs from the other side of the phone, “Is that Steven? And are you outside?”

“Shhh hold on.” I pull the phone away from my ear and look towards the figure which I make out as Steven, “give me a minute please!”

“Now!”

I sigh, pulling the phone back to my ear, “I should probably get to bed anyways, I have morning volleyball practice tomorrow.”

“It’s Saturday?”

“Coach doesn’t care.” I say with a small laugh thinking about what my coach would do If i didn’t show up.

“Well, I should get going too, I need to look for my shooting star.”

I laugh, “What? In a hurry to find your soulmate?”

“No, I know I already have.”

—

After changing into more comfortable clothes, I walked into Belly’s room and she was pacing once again.

“Bells? What are you doing?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know what to wear.”

I chuckle while flopping onto her bed, “It’s just a book party. Laurel won’t mind.”

Belly’s face forms this guilty smile and I immediately pick up on it.

“Unless something else is happening I don’t know about?”

She rushes next to me on the bed and looks at me panicked, “What if I told you cam asked me out on a date? And I said yes.”

A smirk appears on my face, “This is new.”

“yn! I need help! I feel like i’m dying.”

I giggle and shove Belly’s shoulder. “Do that flowery crop top. It’s cute.”

She smiles and stands up, grabbing the shirt from her closet. She slips it on and looks in the mirror. She looked really nice.

“See? Perfect.”

She turns back around to face me, “Hey, I saw you and Conrad earlier, what was up with that?”

I feel my hands tense up when she mentions Conrad. The most twisted thought i’ve ever had is that Belly loved me and Conrad not being best friends anymore. She bathed in this situation. I tried not to think it, but she was in love with him. No matter how many dates she went on with Cam.

I hated it. Why? I don’t know.

“Oh, nothing. He was just at the club looking for Nicole and we ended up walking home together.” I lie. I had to because I couldn’t really tell her that we got into a sorta almost fight because he drives me crazy and I can’t stop thinking about last summer, which creeps into my mind every second-

So of course I lied.

“Oh, okay.”

—

I walked downstairs beside Belly and see the boys playing a video game. They were super into it which made me laugh. Conrad still looked moody though.

“Bye guys.” Belly says, attempting to gain the boys attention. Jeremiah looks at Belly and his jaw drops. Of course it did.

“Damn Bells.” He smiles, dropping his remote and walking over to spin Belly around. As much as I hate to say it, it’s cute. This interaction.

Then the moment turned sour because I realized maybe I didn’t really like Jeremiah. Maybe he was just a distraction that I tried to convince myself was real. Maybe I was trying to cover up the truth about him. I can’t even say his name.

“Conrad, over here man.” Steven pushes Conrad’s shoulder and that’s when I notice Conrad staring.

I sigh and turn to Belly, “Have fun, okay? Text me if you need anything.”

She nods and rushes out the door, and I see Jeremiah’s eyes linger to her. Maybe he really did like her.

I smirk and run over to the couch, jumping in the middle of Conrad and Steven and grabbing Jeremiah’s remote.

“Hey!” Jeremiah pouts.

“I’m about to kick all your asses.” I claim. Steven laughs in a manner which meant your not good enough, but try.

Maybe I did loose.

Once the game was done Laurel and Susannah came downstairs and we all got ready to head out. My phone rang when I saw a text from a number. Josh.

Hey stranger. I was thinking, and thinking led me to texting you.

I found myself giggling at his message. He seemed like a good guy. I think Steven picked up on it because he looked at me disapprovingly.

“Yn. Who are you texting?”

Conrad then stood up from the couch.

“Oh.. um just this person.”

Jeremiah smirks and leans over and before I can blink, my phone is gone.

I groan. Shit. “Jeremiah!”

He holds the phone high while reading the message. “ooo, who’s this lover boy?”

I could feel Conrad’s eyes on me. Burning into my soul.

“His name is Josh. He was at the bonfire.” I hold my hand out hoping that was enough proof and to my surprise it was, Jeremiah hands me the phone back.

“I think I know him from around.” Jeremiah states.

“That guys an ass. You could do better.” Conrad blurts out.

Utter silence is all I remember. It was awkward. Painfully awkward. Why did it make me want to slap him but then hug him at the same time? Tell him, it’s okay Connie. Like he had done many times for me.

Like when I was 12 and he was 13. I was upset because I had scraped my leg against the side of the pool and was bleeding. I was being pretty dramatic. That still didn’t stop Conrad from helping me.

“Yn, are you okay?” He reached for my hand and helped me get out of the pool. Tears streamed down my face but he wiped them.

“Here, I’ll help you.” He shared a half smile with me. I nodded, somewhat feeling better.

That was a good day.

“Well, ready to go?” Susannah says, breaking the silence Conrad caused.

We all nod and make our way to the car. This would be one of the longer night in cousins and I felt it.

—

And I drank to that.

I love Laurel, but this party blows ass. Conrad has been drinking in the corner the whole night and I can’t help but want to as well. The drinks look nice.

I slowly walk over to where he’s been pouring drinks the whole night and smile, “Give me some.” I grab a cup.

Even though he tried to hide it, a smile crept up on his face. “Are you gonna proceed to do everything I do?”

I rolled my eyes, “You don’t own drinking.” I take the bottle from him and pour some into my cup. He stares at me and I can’t help but notice.

“What?” I say.

“Nothing.” He turns away, almost giving me the cold shoulder. I want to slap him. Slap him so hard that he falls to the ground and starts bleeding. But I don’t. I don’t because I can’t ruin this night for Laurel.

“Hey, you can have it back now.” I almost whisper, handing the bottle to him. I felt like I was invading his privacy, he had literally been hoarding the drinks the whole night. People were starting to notice.

He nods, putting his hands around the bottle and I can feel his fingertips graze mine. I let go quickly and rush towards the couches where I find Steven and Jeremiah.

“This is so boring.” Jeremiah pouts.

“I don’t see anything else to do.” I say.

“How about we go buy some weed or something?” Jeremiah adds, suddenly perky.

“Or.. we could go to the drive in?” Steven says and he has a smug look on his face. I shake my head immediately.

“Steven, no.”

“Let’s do it.” I hear a voice from behind me speak and I know who it is. It’s the voice that I used to hear. The voice I think I still heard all the time. Whatever I wanted, he didn’t. Whatever I didn’t, he wanted.

All I could do was pull out my phone and send a text to Belly.

please don’t be mad.

—

She was.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?!” Belly screams while getting out of the car. I could see Cam in the distance going to get something, probably food or drinks.

“Relax, Bells.” Jeremiah says through laughs. Belly then looks towards me angrily.

“Belly, I tried to warn you.” I pull out my phone and show her the text message I sent her.

“Steven, if you don’t leave I’ll show everyone in here your Dramoine fanfic.” Stevens face turns red as Conrad and Jeremiah let a few laughs slip.

“He spent a whole chapter on Draco’s wand.” I add.

“Shut up!” Steven yells.

Jeremiah pats Steven on the back, “Don’t be embarrassed man, Draco’s hot.”

Belly than looks at me and Conrad with a soft look, “Can you please leave?”

I nod, “Let’s go.”

Steven sighs and begins to drive back to the house, and I laugh at how dramatic belly is.

I felt Conrad’s head lean on my shoulder and I could also smell the Vodka on him. It was kinda sad. He was so lost. It’s not like he didn’t drink before, but this was different.

I decided it was best not to fight and pretend like everything was fine. Like it was normal.

“Tired?” I whisper.

“Yeah.” He says. Almost like a little kid.

If I closed my eyes or really zoned out, I could pretend this was really normal. Before everything happened. Before everything got so fucked up.

—

heyyyyy! that was it for this chapter :) I’ve been trying my best to get them out so I hope you enjoy. very slow burn if u didn’t notice lol. what do you guys think happened? also like I said lots of flashbacks to get us where we are so hang in there !!

tag list: @kkrenae @callsignwidow @drikawinchester @johannelis2302nely

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #team conrad #team jeremiah #belly conklin #tsitp #conrad x reader #love #summer love

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suffarustuffaru · 3 months

Note

Hello!

A bit of a weird ask, so sorry in advance.

What methods/sites would you recommend using for reading Arcs 5-8 of Re:Zero?

I’ve almost finished season 2 of the anime, and I’m pretty sure this has become one of my new favourite anime/works of media in general.

And considering I keep spoiling myself anyway when I look at Re: Zero tumblr blogs, I figured I should just find a way to catch up with the rest of the series.

You seem smart, and have clearly read Arcs 5-8, so I was hoping that you would be able to provide some advice.

Thanks!

hi there!! :D no worries for the ask, its cool to have another rezero fan join in the fandom especially on tumblr (which is a very small, curated circle of a bunch of us trading posts around a campfire HAH) and i hope youve really been enjoying the anime and your stay here so far!! :o this is absolutely one of my favorite media as well (if. if you couldnt tell by the blog pfft) and thanks for the compliments haah i am glad to seem smart.

but yes i gotchu on where to read!! ill be giving you a pretty detailed explanation/guide. (this explanation also goes mainly for english speakers / people who wanna experience rezero in english.) (and of course if any other seasoned fans are seeing this feel free to add on if i miss anything or correct me if needed)

Main Route Stuff:

witchculttranslations is where you can find the translations for the entire main route (which is arcs 1-8). this page is where youll find the main table of contents for each arc and you can find arcs 5-8 there!

note that arc 8, at the time of me writing this ask, is still a work-in-progress and the team of translators in this fandom are always hard at work to translate each chapter. also note that arcs 7-8 are "conjoined arcs" - think of it like arc 7 is part 1 and arc 8 is part 2. so if you happen to get caught up to where rezero is currently at, the rezero subreddit regularly updates chat + update threads whenever new rezero novel content comes out in general. youll find updates on translations or summaries for new chapters there.

there's also distinction between web novel and light novel - web novel are the chapters that tappei releases online, light novel are the official finished versions of the chapters that are released for sale. sometimes there's changes between the web novel and the light novel, but for the most part it's either minor changes to improve on the web novel - sometimes it's major, but for arcs 5-8 iirc there isnt any major changes that you need to worry about.

just note that in the wn translations, all/almost all dialogue is written in script-style. let me show a small excerpt from arc 5 chapter 1:

???: “Good job, Subaru, I suppose.” A small silhouette enters Subaru’s view from above. A loveable girl with long, cream hair and an extravagant outfit—Beatrice. Her fluttering dress looks out of place in the meadow as she presents Subaru with a towel. He accepts it and vigorously towels his head dry. Subaru: “Ah, thanks. Was looking to cool down so this’s perfect.”

so yeah the wn will be formatted like this by the way, just in case you didnt know this yet!! i hope thats not much of a turnoff or anything, but dont worry you get used to it - and the story is still pretty great anyway!!

also dont bother with arcs 1-3 wn. its not so important (and you already know all the major info because youve seen the anime) and also arcs 1-3 wn doesnt have the Best writing. tappei himself had to make extremely major changes for the light novel and the light novel (along with the anime and manga) is the finished and polished result.

and of course the light novel comes with illustrations for each arc. the web novel sometimes includes images as well at the beginning of each chapter, but if youd like to see finished and official illustrations for various scenes throughout arc 5-8 its easy to find them if you search them up online!!

the anime also has a few bits of Important cut content from arcs 3-4 - unfortunately i dont have any resources on hand for this ;-;;; but you can look this up on rezero reddit or online in general since a lot of people have made summaries about this. from what i remember in arc 3 (which is the royal selection/white whale/petelgeuse half of season 1!), the main thing is just the reveal that al has some sort of connection to ram (and rem by extension), some sort of connection to satella possibly, and he is ALSO someone that was isekaied into rezero's fantasy world.

as for arc 4 (which is season 2 of course), the anime got down almost all of the general important info you need to know, but there's a lot of important information in the last parts of arc 4 that the anime didnt include. the anime may include this information (and the al stuff from arc 3) later, but you'll need to know it for arcs 5-8. you can find the witchcultranslations guide for arc 4 here - scroll down and youll find the chapter called Appendix: Advent!! you'll need the info in that chapter for later.

if you want, you can also read the chapters after that - theyre sorted under One Day II and are the official arc 4 interludes that take place before arc 5. i do recommend reading through them, but theyre mainly characterization stuff, character dynamics post-arc 4, everyone trying to recover after arc 4, etc etc. the most important info in there is leadup for arc 5 (all the post-arc 4 aftermath stuff) and also some info/introduction on clind and annerose (who are characters that are briefly shown in the anime for like two seconds). these two do play minor roles in arc 4/beginning of 5, but theyre hinted to be important for later. if youre in a hurry to get to arc 5, totally fine to just skim through it, get basic info on clind and annerose then continue into arc 5 or something. or you can look at their wiki pages - totally cool to enjoy rezero however you wish. it's a LOT of reading dont get me wrong HAH.

as for the manga - this is not required reading or anything, the manga has only done arcs 1-4 atm so it's not really super relevant to you since youre almost done with arc 4 already via the anime!! but of course if you havent done so youre welcome to check it out if youd like, the manga artists are pretty great imo. im just gonna show some art from the manga artists here:

isnt it pretty? :O very nice stuff.

anyway thats it for main route content!! now i gotta explain side content.

Side Content:

you can find witchculttranslations' side story table of contents here, which very neatly shows you Every Single Side Story and is updated regularly every time tappei comes out with new side content. and trust me, tappei makes A Lot of side content. i guarantee you a lot of rezero fans havent read every side story (and i still have a lot of side stories to catch up on myself), so theres absolutely no need to read every single side story!! honestly just read the ones you find interesting + the ones that are required reading! im not sure how much of the side content youve heard about, but ill give you a rundown:

this extremely helpful google spreadsheet here (thats also regularly updated) tells you how important each side story is and where you can find it so you dont have to go on a wild goose chase wondering which ones you need to read for the main story. rezero side stories are on a sliding scale of just silly stuff tappei wrote for fun to this is VERY crucial for the main story. that google spreadsheet should help you out with that - both the spreadsheet and witchculttranslations have links to almost every side story available.

(the spreadsheet also tells you important details and who it's centered around + when each side story is safe to read free of spoilers after a certain point - so it's easy to decide when you wanna read the side stories and WHICH side stories you'd like to read!)

also i guarantee you that if you have a favorite character in rezero that character Probably has a ton of side content theyre featured in - so i recommend just hunting down all their side content and devouring it whole because im sure youll have a fun time with that. a lot of side content also fleshes out a ton of side characters as well in general - people who Looked shallow in the anime ARENT shallow at all, i promise. many people have hidden depths, which is one of the fun parts of rezero!

witchculttranslations and the google spreadsheet also tell you what order you might wanna read in terms of when each one takes place. i recommend following that order for the most part if youd like, but if you wanna binge read side content or something later you can also do that after reading arc 6.

that's how i experienced the side stories myself (i started reading them after finishing up with the arcs 5-6 plot) and in a way, i would say that might just be the easiest way to do it given a lot of the side stories take place during arcs 1-6 or before the events of arcs 1-6. itll make you go "ohhh thats what was happening with these background characters during *insert event here that was focused on in the main story*" or "ohhh thats why These Guys are like this" a lot pfft. so its easier to just get out the most important ones / the ones thatre most interesting to you all in a row after finishing up with arc 6 👍

The Ex Novels:

these are THE MOST IMPORTANT side stories. :o theyll be extremely important for arcs 7-8 especially!! also because these are light novels the dialogue is written in normal narrative format so hooray for that!!

anyway theres five ex novels. i recommend reading these after arc 6 so you got them fresh on the brain for arcs 7-8.

however if you happen to be a crusch camp fan, you can read ex novels 1-3 at any time youd like!! these flesh out characters like crusch, felix, wilhelm, and theresia (some of the wilhelm and theresia content was shown a bit in season 1 of the anime!) so youd probably enjoy these even more if youre a fan of any of them. ex novel four also features felix, julius, and reinhard too, if that interests you! (as a knight fan ex novel 4 was my favorite akdndn and i loved ex 1!!). but yeah in general though read the ex novels in order (from 1 to 5 of course) so you dont spoil yourself for other ex novels, but as i said - you can read 1-3 at any time, and in general its best to read the rest of the ex novels after arc 6.

the ex novels in general mainly focus on important historical events in the rezero world and stuff that happens before arc 1. the ex novels are also our first introduction to the nation and empire of vollachia—this is also the country that priscilla is from (and al also came from there)!! you get introduced to vollachia's whole deal in these novels. youll need this info for later!

anyway witchculttranslations and the google sheet dont have links to them because theyre published + officially translated light novels that are easiest to access by buying them, so harder to get a free pdf of them. however i got you (and your wallet) covered because i got pdfs for all of them right here (if these links dont work let me know!):

ex novel 1 - crusch and felix-centric

ex novel 2 - wilhelm and theresia-centric

ex novel 3 - wilhelm and theresia-centric

ex novel 4 - felix, julius, and reinhard-centric

ex novel 5 - priscilla and al-centric

anyway thats the ex novels in a nutshell!! and of course if you want a physical copy of these books (or any of the rezero light novels in general) in english you can buy these online (sites like amazon has them) or at a bookstore. if you live in the US like i do, barnes and noble has them irl as well. or if you happen to live near a kinokuniya store, they also sell rezero irl. kinokuniya is also specifically for japanese media so i highly recommend giving it a try if you happen to be near one (i got a rezero keychain from there also hah, rezero merch is a little hard to get a hold of sometimes).

rezero light novels are also translated in a few other languages (iirc spanish and polish are some of the other languages its translated in) so if youd like that too you can look into it and buy some!!

The If Routes:

if youre not familiar with these by now, theyre basically "what if"/ alternate universe stories where subaru makes a different and Very Major choice at different points of the main route. theyre not necessarily required reading, but some do have some important lore regarding several of the characters and in general most of them are extremely important AUs for rezero that emphasize all the themes of the story. they also show the Insane butterfly effect of subaru’s decisions.

and if youve gotten this far with the anime already im gonna assume you probably like subaru at least a little bit? :o yeah his character gets fleshed out in Very Interesting ways in these routes. other characters also get changed in various ways due to his decisions!

new ifs are also released typically every year on subaru's birthday - april 1. so with every april 1 the entire fandom plays russian roulette because either the if will be a super silly one or a Very Important one LMAO.

also these ifs tend to be mentioned a lot in fandom bc theyre very beloved and interesting side stories, so i highly recommend choosing which ones you find interesting and just have fun reading them!! you can find them on the spreadsheet, if you want to read them in a more chronological order, or you can find them on the main witchculttranslations website as tabs on the side underneath Re:Zero If Stories. (but ill provide the links to each separate one in this post also.)

all current if routes at the moment take place somewhere in the arcs 1-6 range, so you can look at them either after arc 6, like i said, or in order as you read along with the main route. ill give a quick breakdown of each if just in case!!

Pride If - diverges from arc 1; subaru doesnt call for help when fighting the three thugs in the alleyway. slight spoilers for one part of arc 5 in like One Scene of pride if.

Wrath If - diverges from arc 2; subaru accepts beatrice’s offer to help in the loop where rem dies + subaru tries to run away from the mansion. very minor spoilers for ex novels/arc 7-8 (characters who appear in those arcs appear in wrath if).

Sloth If - diverges from arc 3; subaru gives up and runs away with rem instead of dealing with the arc 3 conflict. very minor spoilers (a character who later appears in arc 8 appears here).

Aganau If - diverges from arc 3; in the loop where rem dies in the cave and subaru carries her back to the mansion, he decides to go down another route away from the mansion instead. years later, he’s now older and still alive after almost everyone else has died. this if is one of the routes in the now discontinued lost in memories mobile game (and this is The Most Important route out of the whole bunch anyway). you can find a playthrough + english translation of it here.

Greed If - diverges from arc 4; subaru accepts echidna’s contract. major spoilers for arc 4 of course. minor spoilers for arc 5+ (small plot beats are mentioned iirc). a bit of important lore for characters like echidna and clind. the first edition of it can be found here - make sure to read this first. this is because this if was also given a longer and polished light novel version of it (it was a special that came with some of the season 2 blueray dvd packages?) and you can find an english translation for the extended + final version under the Blueray Novels and Databooks section of witchculttranslations' side content page.

Gluttony If - diverges from arc 6. major spoilers for arcs 5-6.

Mimigau If - this is just a genderbend au that tappei made that starts from arc 1!! almost nothing is changed besides the characters’ genders, biological sex, names, etc. i sadly dont have a link to this one, but iirc this hasnt been fully translated yet? and it's also very much not that important of an if lore-wise so you're not missing out on much. the genderbent character names are really fun though!

Lust If - this is, supposedly, an if that tappei wrote in one sitting and then decided to delete off of the official rezero wn site. this if is just an april fools joke where subaru gets a harem of various rezero girls. and imo its not Particularly Good, but it was meant to be a joke and tappei just wrote it for no reason so ig the quality makes sense haah. and also sadly that harem includes petra iirc which. yeah. not what id call great.

Vainglory If / School If - basically a canon high school au for all of rezero! not a necessary read at all but it's super silly and fun. and if you like anastasia and/or priscilla they have a lot of Fun Interactions in this one. im not sure if all of this if is english translated yet, but you can find chapter one here.

Other Various Ifs from Lost In Memories - i dont have the links to all of these, but lost in memories has a lot of other more minor aus as well, aganau if is just the most important + the darkest one. the other ifs are more lighthearted and just extra stuff for funsies. other big examples include a julius if (subaru calls for help in arc 1 and julius is the one who comes to help), a reinhard if of sorts (takes place around arcs 1-2, it's a sillier story where reinhard just keeps appearing out of nowhere to help subaru every time he needs help), and also an otto if (arc 1 divergence; subaru gets involved with otto and the two of them decide to start a mayonnaise business).

A Side Note About Rezero Video Games:

ok i know your ask is mainly about how to READ rezero but i figured i might as well explain this really quick just in case!!

there are a bunch of rezero video games and none of them are really Necessary, so dont worry about it. theyre either like - silly alternate universe stuff or theyre a bit more of the serious au variety (like aganau if, as mentioned earlier. i dont know every single rezero video game out there (and i think theres still new ones in the works at the time of me writing this??) and also almost none of them are english translated so its hard to experience them if you dont understand japanese.

the two most important ones (aka the ones with more story in them) are gonna be prophecy of the throne and lost in memories (which i mentioned earlier!). and again, these games are not necessary content - theyre mostly just side content that you can look at/watch/play through for fun and if you just wanna see more of your faves. you can check them out at any time since they dont have any major arc 5-8 spoilers.

Prophecy of the Throne - this is visual novel + a divergence of arc 3 where a new and sixth royal candidate emerges and it looks like emilia is the fake royal candidate here.... so yeah the plot is just. it's like a game of among us. but it's a fun story with a lot of different character interactions (so if you really like the entire cast of rezero youre in luck!!) and features a tiny bit of lore about some powerful groups in the fantasy world. a few of subarus failed loops in this one are also Particularly Brutal. you can watch gameplay of it on youtube or play through it yourself (i know that the game IS on steam too) since it's fully english translated (and all the jp vas and english vas reprised their roles as well).

Lost In Memories - as mentioned earlier, this is a now discontinued mobile game. iirc it was a gacha game? a sort of fighting game? and also it's narrative driven with a bunch of different routes. you can find the wiki for it here - it summarizes a lot of the main story beats. theres no official english translations for this game, but theres a lot of fan translations that you can find on stuff like youtube if youre ever interested in any part of the game. also it has a really fun opening song and animated sequence. nonoc's rezero music is great <3

A Side Note About Rezero Youtube:

theres a lot of summary videos for both main content chapters and side stories on youtube. im not sure how accurate these videos are, but i know that at the very least they can give you a brief rundown on the main points for certain chapters/side stories if thats something youd like to have!

theres also an entire team of people making a fan-run audiobook for arc 5. ive given some of their episodes a listen, and i can confirm that theyre absolutely great. you can find their readings of chapter 1-47 on spotify, and on their youtube channel theyre up to chapter 62. i think theyve also expressed their interest in branching out into other rezero content as well? :o so if thats also something youre interested in you can check them out there!

In Conclusion

anyway, that should be all you need to know - thats a summary of basically all important rezero content from here on out!! i know this is like. Super detailed. so i hope that this was helpful and didnt scare you away or anything hah. and i hope you have fun reading through rezero :o !! you got a lot of content to choose from thats for sure!!

but yeah ty for the ask, i hope i explained everything clearly enough :o !! and if you need any clarification feel free to ask!!

#rezero #re:zero #ask #save for later #<< bc this is my most detailed post on 'how to read rezero' aljsdlf so i might just put this in my pinned post for this blog later #also even if ur a seasoned fan and u havent heard of the arc 5 fan podcast yet pls give them a listen. they work so hard on it and i love #their performances there <3

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virgil-my-emo-son · 24 days

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Accepted.

Dukeceit Week 2024 Day 1, Sunflowers!

Dukeceit Week 2024 is run by the amazing @imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper ! I am really hoping I can stay on track and do the rest of the days but I make no promises lol. Starting off strong with day one though!

This fic is just like pure angst! But it does have a happy or at least hopeful ending, so there's that.

I've never actually written Dukeceit so their dynamic is much more like their dynamic in Grim's The Mysterious Disappearance of Roman Grimm (One of if not my favorite Sanders Sides fics ever) than their canon dynamic but I hope you all enjoy anyway!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55012822/chapters/139463146

The drive was long and winding and dark, the trees only visible in glimpses Remus caught from the Subaru’s high beams. The only sign of life on the West Virginia highway was the occasional headlights of a car going the other way, but those were few and far between. Remus wasn’t surprised, it was 5:37 AM.

They’d left around 4, once Remus’s breakdown had been dealt with.

“Where are we going, Jan?” Remus tried.

Janus didn’t make any indication he’d heard him, eyes looking straight through the windshield, hands holding the steering wheel steady at ten and two. His hands were, as usual, gloved, but Remus had a feeling if he’d been able to see his knuckles, they would’ve been white.

“Janus, you can’t keep ignoring me forever.” He sighed, letting his head fall against the headrest. “You’re the one who wanted to go on this crazy drive, anyway.”

“Remus… we’ll be there soon.” Janus’s voice was tight, almost strangled.

“Okay.”

“Give me twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” It came out as a whisper.

The dense forest soon gave way to thinner trees, then to flat farmland. Remus’s face went to his window to watch the soybeans and the slightly lightening sky.

Pretty soon, Remus heard the clicking of the turn signal, and Janus turned into one of the farms. Remus caught a glimpse of what looked like sunflowers before Janus slowly pulled into a worn wood barn and turned the key, cutting the engine. He tucked one leg beneath him and turned so he was facing Remus.

Janus smiled. “Tired?”

Remus knew his eyes were drooping. “Yeah.”

Just as quickly, the smile slipped from Janus’s face. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where we were going.”

“Where did we go?” Remus looked around. “We’re just in a random barn. Looks very splintery.” He grinned, trying to lighten the tension. “Might get some sort of wood-borne illness.”

Janus wrinkled his nose. “I’m not even sure those exist.”

“You never know.”

Janus moved on. “We’re not here for the barn. I’m… this is my grandfather’s farm.”

“I thought your grandpa was dead.”

“He is.” Janus said flatly. “It’s my farm now.”

“Your farm?”

“Yes, he left it to me.”

“You’ve never mentioned a farm before.”

“I didn’t want anyone to know about it.”

Remus considered for a moment. “So, this is where you’ve been going on weekends?”

Janus nodded. “My uncle looks after the place most of the time. He gets all the proceeds from the produce.” He shrugged. “I’m really just the name on the deed.”

“Mm.” Remus hummed. “Why are we here?”

“I wanted you to see the flowers at sunrise.”

“The sunflowers I just saw?”

Janus nodded again, holding out a hand to Remus. He looked at it for a moment, reached out, and squeezed it, as was their custom.

“Lets’ go.” Janus reached for his door.

Remus did the same, hopping out of the car and circling around to the other side. They walked out of the barn, Remus trailing a few feet behind Janus as he glanced around, unable to see much in the dark.

He kept following him as they walked to the sunflower field.

“Huh. I thought you closed at night.” Remus remarked to one of the yellow blooms they walked past.

“I did too, until I started helping out at the farm.” Janus led them to a small opening between a few flowers, carefully pushing one aside and ducking between them.

“How long have you been coming here?”

Janus shrugged. “A long time.”

Remus could tell when he didn’t want to talk, so he stayed quiet as they walked the narrow path between the sunflowers.

Janus abruptly stopped, and Remus almost bumped into him. “Jeez, Jan, give a guy some warning.”

“My apologies.” Janus looked over his shoulder briefly.

“Accepted.” Remus mumbled.

“Look.” Janus nodded towards the East, where the sun was beginning to crest over the horizon, painting the yellow petals in shades of red and orange.

“Wow.” Remus said softly, but he turned his face back to Janus. He felt like a sunflower himself, turning towards the brightest thing he could see.

As if he could feel his eyes, Janus turned to look at Remus, his eyes softening. “I just wanted you to see this. I made this path, a long time ago. I like watching sunrises, I always have. I figured it might calm you down.” He swallowed. “Remus… we don’t have to talk about earlier, not if you don’t want to.”

Remus closed his eyes. Did he want to talk about it?

“I don’t need you!” He snarled.

Don’t you see I need you?” Janus threw his hands up.

I don’t deserve you! Even a little bit! I don’t deserve to have you… I don’t deserve you! I don’t need you!”

He opened his eyes. “I do want to talk about it.”

Janus’s eyes flicked down to the soil, then up again to Remus. “We deserve each other, Remus. We’ve both done things we’re not proud of. You know that.”

Remus nodded.

Janus continued. “I… love you, Remus. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either… I just don’t want to… hurt you.”

“You only hurt me when you tell me you want to break up with me because you don’t want to hurt me.”

Remus suddenly couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Janus nodded. “Accepted.”

#remus sanders #janus sanders #dukeceit #dukeceitweek2024 #dukeceit week 2024 #dukeceit fic #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic

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staygoldwriting · 8 months

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💌 To the Steve I Loved Before: Part 5

A Steve Harrington TATBILB!AU fic

Parts 1-4 on my masterlist!

Summary: Y/N has written love letters to get over her deepest crushes. What happens when Steve Harrington gets his hands on her letter to him?

Disclaimer: This is inspired by the To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before series by Jenny Han! I have used none of her characters, but have only used the premise of a love letter in the wrong hands.

Word count: ~1200

Warnings: None, just fluff!

A/N: I'M STILL HERE!!! 🎉 I have been gone for so long and I'm SO SORRY!! I started my new job, and it's taken all of my time 😢 But I'm finally back, and I hope you guys love this next chapter! I will try my best to get another part out soon 💕Also, I know I keep teasing the letter, but know that I wrote it before anything else, so it'll be out in a couple chapters 👀Please let me know what you think, and, as always, please show love and support! ❤️✨

“Y/N?”

You were staring blankly at Steve as he waved his hand in front of your face. You snapped back into reality and looked at him.

“Sorry, okay, you said seven for pizza at your place?” you said quickly.

“Eight, but Y/N, did you write me--”

“Gotta go, Steve, see you!” you said, then rushed away before he could finish his question. As you sped walked to the front of the mall, Robin was waiting for you, shaking her head.

“What have you done?” she asked, chuckling.

“I don’t wanna talk about it, let’s just go,” you said, not stopping as you walked past her.

-💌-

You sat at your desk, bouncing your knee up and down, planning and panicking in your mind. Robin was laying on your bed, her head hanging off the edge as she scrunched her face up in concentration.

“So,” she started, “you’re going to pretend to date Steve Harrington.”

“...Yep,” you said, squinting at the wall.

“Well, you’re going to need some ground rules,” Robin said, looking at you.

“Ground rules?”

“Yeah, so you guys are clear on this little game you’re playing.”

“I don’t think we need rules, Rob. We’re not even actually dating.”

“Are you gonna kiss him?”

“What? No!” you said, your heart beating quickly.

“Okay, then how are you gonna make your relationship believable?” Robin asked, flipping herself onto her stomach.

“I mean, I don’t know,” you said.

“Well, you should definitely kiss him,” Robin said. “First of all, no one would ever believe you two are dating if you don't kiss at least once in public. Second of all, it looked like you both enjoyed it quite a bit,” she smirked. You threw a stuffed animal at her.

“Bite your tongue, Buckley!” you yelled, trying not to laugh.

“You’re blushing!” she yelled victoriously.

“Am not! I mean, yeah, he’s cute or whatever, but that doesn’t subtract from the fact that he’s a class A jerk,” you pointed out.

“I don’t know, you might be surprised,” Robin said, sitting up. “I think all the rejections he’s gotten at Scoops have bruised his ego enough for him to actually have mappable humility.”

“Steve? Humble? I’ll believe it when I see it,” you chuckled.

“Well, keep me posted. I think you guys should both visit each other at work, but make it look natural since you haven’t done that before. Ease into it. Second, you have to make him drive us all around.”

“Us?” you smirked.

“I have to benefit from this somehow,” Robin smiled. “Anyways, third, you guys have to go to the Fourth of July carnival together.”

“We won’t be together then. Eddie will forget about the letter far before that,” you objected.

“Just stick with me,” Robin said. “Lastly, and most importantly, do not fall for him.”

“Rob, we’re not in a John Hughes movie, I’m not going to-”

“Stick with me,” Robin repeated. “Don’t rule anything out. After all, you did write him a letter, right?”

“We’re not talking about that,” you said quickly.

“Well, the truth’s gonna come out someday,” Robin said. “In the meantime, it’s 7:45. Prince Charming awaits.”

-💌-

You knocked on Steve’s front door, and he opened it, smiling at you brightly.

“Hey, fake girlfriend,” he smirked. “Looking good tonight.” You scoffed at him, trying to hide your blush.

“Can I come in?” you asked, trying to change the subject.

“Come on in,” Steve said, moving from the doorframe. “Go ahead and sit anywhere,” Steve said, motioning to the living room.

“Sounds good to me,” you said, sitting on the couch. Steve sat down, facing you. You smiled at him awkwardly, then he opened the pizza box.

“Dig in,” he said. You nodded in thanks, then grabbed a slice.

“So,” he smiled, taking a bite.

“So,” you repeated, nodding.

“You like Eddie, and now we have to date?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess you could phrase it that way,” you chuckled. “I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this, Steve.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his mouth full of pizza. “What are friends for?”

“We’re still friends?” you asked weakly, making Steve look at you in disbelief.

“Of course we’re still friends, Y/N, why wouldn’t we be?” he said, looking at you confused, his mouth still full.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “You became so popular, and we stopped hanging out.”

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” Steve said, wiping his mouth and looking at you in concern.

“It sure feels that way,” you whispered, making Steve look at you sadly.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“Don’t be,” you replied. “Anyway, we have some planning to do,” you said, trying to move on. You looked up at Steve, who was gazing at you.

“Um,” you said, trying to break eye contact, “Robin had some recommendations to help our relationship look believable,” you said, looking back at him. “She says we should kiss at least once a day in public.”

“Are you sure you can survive with just one Harrington kiss a day?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes at him, fighting a laugh.

“She also said we should visit each other at work, and that you should drive me around, and Robin too.”

“Hm. So now Robin gets a free ride to work every day and also sees her best friend every time she has a shift. Makes me wonder who this is really benefiting,” he smirked.

“Well, do you have any rules in mind?” you asked, and Steve tapped his chin.

“Will you come to family dinners with me? Maybe with you there I can actually get through a conversation with my father. And we should go to the movies and stuff, make our relationship really public. Stuff we used to do, you know? We’ll just kiss when we do it.”

“I guess that works for me,” you said. “Is there anything we shouldn't do?”

“Well, I'll stop flirting with the girls at work, and you'll have to stop drooling over Munson,” he shrugged. “Other than that, I don't think I have anything else.”

“I haven't been drooling over Eddie,” you defended.

“Well, then start drooling over me,” Steve said, mocking your tone. “Oh, and we should go to the Fourth of July carnival together,” he said.

“Robin said the same thing, but I don't think we'll still be doing this plan then, will we?”

“Well, we don’t have to be together to go,” Steve pointed out.

“I guess so,” you said.

“Did Robin say anything else?” he asked.

“Yeah, she said we shouldn’t fall in love with each other,” you chuckled.

“I’ll try my hardest,” he smirked, winking at you.

“Alright then, I think that covers it. We’ll hang out after work, I’ll go to family dinners with you, we’ll kiss each other once a day-”

“But more is always welcome,” Steve winked, making you groan. “And I’ll take you and Robin to work, and, when the time comes, we’ll go to the carnival, all while not falling in love. Sounds simple enough,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, totally easy,” you joked. “Deal?” you asked, holding out your hand.

“Hm,” Steve said, his smirk returning. “I'll do this all on one condition,”

“Okay, what is that?” you asked tiredly.

“You have to let me read my letter.”

-💌-

Taglist: @tillkummer @mlle-ayka @sonicthehedgedoggo @klaine-92 @aurumbelis @onlyangel-444 @beep-beep-sherlock @morishitoshi @onceuponathreetwoone @toomanybandstocare @underthebatcape @zeldaknight @fieldofsecretss @prettyinpunk85 @igotbasicdrag @gothicfaires @thatonecurlygirl @luvthatlovestolove @loliakeoghan23 @dearelliewrites @mslunawinchester @aphex2winn @simonsbluee @inkedaztec @dumplinshee @pastel-abyss-x @frozenhuntress67 @hawkins-hs @witheringawayagain @theshinyrock @hollandcomics @pinkgothiccprincess @persephone13 @katsukis1wife @murnsondock @fictionlandslanddreams @srapalestina @babyghouly @madformunsonsstuff @harrys-titties @middle--fingering @urmomgov @maybankstarkey @jbetches @stardustmunson @maltinonka @chaerfull @middle-of-the-earth @lilsunshine1092 @thehairington86 @the-weeping-author @bisexual-and-intellectual @loving-and-dreaming @dory-98 @carinacassiopeiae @munsonzgf @just-a-lost-princess @imvomitting @lalalyra

#staygoldwriting #steveharrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things steve #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x female!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington drabbles #stranger things imagines #stranger things fluff #stranger things

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wings-of-ink · 2 months

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First Devlog?

Hello everyone...boy, there are a lot of you already, still trying to digest that...

So, I gather that I should do these logs on occasion. I do not know how often, perhaps just when I have a few things to say. I will try not to ramble too much, but my fingies like to talk.

Anyway, I am working on chapter 3 right now. There’s some fun moments so far in it that I hope you’ll like, and we’ll get to meet Zahn, Duri'naan, and then Rundis. I’m trying not to rush because there are some exciting scenes that I’m eager to get to. I’ve outlined them to tide myself over until I get that far. There’s some quiet moments you’ll get to have as well, and right now I feel like that’s what I’m struggling with. Those areas of my story are like bridges to the next, more exciting, parts and sometimes I feel like they fall a little flat. But, I’m trying to keep in mind this is my first draft. I’ll go through it another time or two to perk things up. Those moments are still important for letting the MC get to know each RO.

My mind has been in a million directions lately too, and I’ve had a lot of ‘duh’ moments. I’ve done so much world building since I started this last year (around August/September I think), that I have pockets of important details that I kinda just forgot! So, I plan to re-read all the notes I’ve made and try to also put them into one place. I have some in my phone, in a notebook, and in no less than three folders on my laptop. It’s a wonder I have survived this many years…

What you can expect for coming updates…

-A couple fixes, of course – thank you to those who found some of those pesky buggy bois for me.

-A nicer front page, instead of being slapped with my ramblings, I’d like to actually have a nice start page. I’ll figure it out eventually, lol.

-I’ll be adding a name bank to the MC’s Nameday scene that will also show you what each name means, so if that is important to you, it’ll save you the internet search. If it tickles your fancy, the name selection will correspond in some way to the marks (names meaning "night" or "storm," etc.) so you can theme your MC a bit.

-Extra coding in case you decide to shorten MC’s given name to just “Ravi.” I did not once consider that anyone would do this, and my first play-tester – my own spouse – did….He told me about it since it made some dialog with Oswin make zero sense, and then I published the story without fixing it because I completely forgot about it.

-Different contrast color for dark mode links. I feel like I have drastically improved this with a new gold color. In retrospect, I don’t know why I didn’t use the gold before. I love it as an accent, I use it all over! The blue never felt 100% right, but my brain shut down after thinking about it too long. Here’s a sample and a (M) Zahn tease:

When can you expect an update?

I’d like to make my next update during the Amare Games Festival, ideally containing both chapters 3 and 4 since they go pretty tightly together. This will also insure that you meet the rest of the posse. It’s a tall order for both chapters to be submitted on time, and I don’t want to rush them either, but I’m going to try really really hard, lol. I will focus first on polishing chapter 3, so that no matter what, I can at least get it out in time.

Here’s a link to the post about it:

And this is the submission time frame: open from March 31st 2024 at 11:00 PM to May 1st 2024 at 12:00 AM

As a side message, should you want to read on…

I also wanted to give you all a big, like really big, heartfelt thank you. I have received so many kind messages and comments that I just can’t believe it. I am so happy (and honestly, genuinely shocked) that you’re enjoying my IF, and I’m motivated to work hard so you also enjoy each new chapter of your journey. There’s so many secrets I want to share with you about the world, and I am struggling to be patient myself, lol.

I am not usually a very open or social person, and I was scared for a long time to share anything I wrote. I reached a point in my personal life in the last few years where I just needed to embrace what I loved to do and share it with a community that shares in that love. I encourage you to do the same whether there is a story in your heart, music on your lips, or a paintbrush in your hands. Life is NOT about your 8-5. We may not be able to survive without it, but whatever moment you can, do what you actually love. Put away the those things that don’t matter, the things that stress you - including people, and make time for who you are.

Thank you all and take care!

~Lunan

#if wip #twine if #twine wip #interactive novel #god cursed if #if game #interactive fiction #gc if devlog #amare game #amare

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sneezingfetishftw-fics · 15 days

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Insufferable (7/7)

At long last, Vox's suffering is complete! (For this fic anyway lol, I'll probably torture him again later). Enjoy the final chapter.

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Wavs: 1 3

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“Are you sure you’re going to be alright, Amorcito?” Val asked, stroking Vox’s arm.

Vox shook his head. “You can’t come along, Val. It would make negotiations even more tense, and that’s the last thing we need.”

“Do you want me to…” Velvette started.

Vox shook his head, then winced from the pain of moving it. “Someone needs to keep running the company while I’m gone.” He sighed. “You’ve done well so far, just… heh’tzzzzch! Just keep it up. I’ll be fi… hi… hih… hih’TZZZZZSCHT! I’ll survive.”

“Alright, but if you’re not back by tomorrow I’m coming after you!” Velvette said, her expression intimidating despite her stature.

Vox chuckled. “Deal,” he said, walking out the door.

The walk to the hotel was every bit as awful as Vox had expected. To make matters worse, it seemed the trees had chosen today to release all their fucking pollen. There were several times Vox had to hypnotize someone who witnessed his disheveled state, and having Alastor go through his body to do the hypnotizing was a thoroughly unpleasant feeling, like someone crawling under his skin and pushing all his organs out. He may have wanted Alastor inside him, but not like this.

By the time he finally arrived at the hotel, Vox was an absolute mess. His suit was wrinkled from doubling over with the more intense sneezes, his screen was dull, his movements were slow and weak, and he was pretty sure his voice was shot too, if he still had his voice at all.

Charlie did a double take at the door, closing it in shock for a moment before she finally left it open long enough for Vox to speak.

“Greetings, your Highness. I… Hhhhh’tzzzzzmp!” Charlie raised an eyebrow as the sparks flew. Velvette had finally managed to teach Vox how to use a handkerchief, but that didn’t stop the old television in the lobby from shorting out. “Excuse me,” he said, trying desperately to find his usual charm and professionalism.

“Bless you, Mr. Vox. What are you doing here?” Charlie asked, staring at him with pure confusion.

“Please, call me Vox.”

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Vaggie repeated, staring with more hostility than confusion.

Vox sighed. There was no point tiptoeing around it, especially since he didn’t know how long his voice would last. But he was a businessman, he knew the importance of selling to his audience, so taking the right angle was important here. Vaggie would see through any bullshit—the main thing that mattered to her was honesty. And Charlie? The bleeding heart was so big on her sleeve it’s a wonder her arm hadn’t fallen off. He died a little inside as he realized what he had to do. Loathe as he was to appear weak, there was no doubt that groveling and being pathetic was the best way to tug on those heartstrings.

“As you may have noticed, I’m not exactly in the best state at the moment,” he began, breaking into a coughing fit that he let drag on for longer than it would have naturally.

“I can see that, but uh… why come here?”

“Well, uh, it’s kind of a long story, but I am looking specifically for your heh… heh…heh…heh…heh’TZZZZZZSH! For your help, Princess.” As he dragged out the buildup a little longer, he wondered whether this was the right move. Would Charlie be grossed out by his illness? But the sympathetic look on her face told her all he needed. After a moment, her face shifted to one of realization.

“Oh! Alastor said to expect a visitor. Someone who wanted to try redemption? Was that you?”

God fucking dammit. Of course Alastor would have said something like that. Now he had to pretend to be caught up in Charlie’s hippie nonsense… on second thought, maybe not. The doubtful glare from Vaggie reminded him that even the smoothest of lies wouldn’t work. And it’s not like Alastor would step in to help him with hypnosis here. Vox was saved from his musings by a wracking cough, one so awful on its own that there was no need for exaggeration.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry! Here you are standing in the doorway, when you must feel terrible! Please, come in! Can I get you some water?” Vox nodded weakly as he stumbled in. Technically he probably could have walked better than that, but there was no point spending the effort when appearing weak gave him an advantage. Vaggie gave him the side-eye. It was clear she wasn’t 100% convinced. He took a long gulp of the water, disappointed that it did nothing to soothe his throat. Maybe Charlie would get him some tea later. He wouldn’t be the one to ask, though. He was already about to ask for a lot. Charlie opened her mouth to speak, but paused as Vox had an absolutely horrendous sneezing fit. He had thought it was bad on earth getting illness and allergies at the same time, but there was no doubt that it was far worse in hell. To add to his frustration, Charlie had a ridiculous determination to bless every single sneeze. Vox wanted to claw off his entire face, resisting the urge only because he lacked the energy.

After he was finally done sneezing, Vaggie broke the silence. “Alright, Vox. We know you didn’t come here just to look all gross and pathetic. What do you actually want?”

Vox frowned as he realized his voice was gone. Why now? Ugh. He deliberated for a moment, then smacked the side of his head, hoping to Satan it would work this time or he would look like even more of a fool. Thankfully, that seemed to have done the trick. “As you might have guessed, I’m sick.” Vaggie rolled her eyes at the obvious statement. “What you might not know is, Alastor did this.” He grimaced with the restraint it took to not curse his rival. “It was a targeted virus,” he said bitterly. “Not contagious,” he added as an afterthought upon seeing their concern.

The pair stared at him for a while. Charlie spoke up first. “You want me to… talk to Alastor?”

“Not quite. I already talked to Alastor. He agreed to… hi’tzzzch! He agreed to remove the virus if I do a favor for you. You decide the favor.” Charlie’s eyes opened wide in surprise and excitement, then she got a look of intense concentration as she tried to consider how to handle this power. Vaggie’s eyes narrowed, and it was clear to Vox that she saw through the power play here. Still, that wasn’t enough reason to refuse what could be a very advantageous deal. The hum of fans echoed through the room as Vox awaited his fate.

“It starts with sorry,” Charlie said.

Vox raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“She said it starts with sorry, not that it ends with sorry, dumbass,” Vaggie corrected.

“Be nice, Vaggie, we have to assume he’s trying. But yes, you make a good point. You can’t just say sorry, you also have to not do those things in the future.” Vox opened his mouth and Charlie quickly added, “Before you go claiming that that’s not one favor, keep in mind that… bless you! Bless you again! Oh dear, bless you!” She realized Vox hadn’t been opening his mouth to protest after all. After a few minutes of sneezing and blessing (seriously, did this girl never get tired?), Charlie resumed her speech. “Uh, as I was saying, this can be defined as the following single favor: repent.” Vox thought he caught a glimpse of Charlie’s horns peeking out on that last word and he gave a shudder which he managed to pass off as a shiver. Pissing off the princess of hell definitely seemed like a bad idea.

“Right, um, uh, of course, Princess. Repent. Yeah, that makes sense.” He found himself stammering awkwardly as he grappled with the idea that Charlie could tear down everything he’d built. Could he refuse the deal and accept being sick forever? At Alastor’s mercy forever? No, that had to be worse than whatever Charlie would ask of him.

“What, afraid of a little redemption?” Vaggie asked, finally cracking a smile as she saw the fear he no longer had the energy to hide. “It was good enough for Sir Pentious, the demon you sent here to spy on us and then told to kill himself.”

Vox winced. That one really stung. But he knew it was deserved.

Angel walked into the living room and froze. “What the fuck is Vox doing here?” He glared at the TV demon. “Please tell me you didn’t bring Val.”

Vox shook his head, then cradled it in his hands as he felt the ensuing dizziness. Before he could speak, he found himself in another long sneezing fit. Angel’s expression gradually changed to one of amusement. It was rare to see the CEO so vulnerable. A nice change of pace.

“Vox here is trying his hand at redemption!” Charlie answered, beaming.

“Only because he wants to get out of being sick.” Vaggie amended, frowning.

“Redemption is redemption, even if the motive is less than perfect,” Charlie insisted.

Vox groaned, dreading this whole negotiation already. “Just tell me what you need me to do,” he said, the resignation in his voice even thicker than the congestion.

Angel strutted over, seeming to have gained a little more confidence from the whole situation. “How about you start with removing those cameras you put in my dressing room?”

“He WHAT?” Charlie asked, revealing her horns fully this time.

Vox tried to smooth down his suit as he thought this through. He’d never really cared for the cameras anyway - as much as he loved having eyes on everyone and exerting his control, he knew Angel Dust was Valentino’s plaything, and Vox would be lying if he said he wasn’t sometimes jealous of the attention. At the same time, he knew Val wouldn’t give up that power so easily. Vox thought back to the events earlier today. Wait, hadn’t Velvette seemed especially mad at Val? Maybe she knew something Vox could use as leverage against him. He sighed. “Consider it done.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “You really think I’m going to just take your word for it?” he asked, holding out his hand.

Vox groaned (more from the effort of moving than anything else) and took Angel’s hand. “I will remove the cameras from your dressing room as the favor for Charlie.”

“Nice try, asshole,” Angel said, refusing to shake. Val may have gotten one over on him years ago, but he knew better now. “Don’t forget the part where you also prevent cameras from being added back there later.”

Vox nodded wearily, too focused on wanting to go home to have the energy to argue. He updated the terms of the deal and shook Angel’s hand.

“Wait!” Charlie’s voice rang out, but she was too late. A crackle of electricity arced across Angel’s arm, and the porn star jumped back in shock.

“Sorry,” Vox said with a sniffle. “Forgot to warn you about that side effect of making a deal.” Wait, a sniffle? Was he still sick? Was Alastor a fucking liar?

Alastor entered the room, the ever-present smile on his face looking quite smug. “Now, this is an interesting bit of contract lawyering, isn’t it?” All eyes were on him.

“What do you mean?” Angel asked, shaking out his hand in an attempt to get it back to feeling normal.

“Quite a few deals going around here. I made a deal with Vox that relies on Vox making a deal with Charlie. Then Charlie discussed potential terms of that deal with Vox. Vox then made a deal with Angel that claimed to fulfill the deal with Charlie. But does that really count if Charlie didn’t give her explicit approval? And if not, then should that deal be discarded?”

Vox groaned. “This is giving me a headache. Stop being a show off and just give us the fucking answer already.”

“Now now,” Alastor said, smile burning brighter, “is that any way to treat the person who’s in charge of your fate?” Vox frowned. “As for the deals at hand,” Alastor continued, “let us return to Charlie. Charlie, do you accept this deal?”

Charlie shook her head. “The favor was to repent. I’m sure Vox has quite a bit more he’s guilty of so I’m not ready to close this deal just yet.” Alastor nodded approvingly. The girl was learning. Probably not enough to be wise to Alastor’s tricks, but she was learning nonetheless.

The room was uncomfortably still as Charlie contemplated her next move, the silence punctuated only by Vox’s sneezes and coughs. Finally, she had an answer. “Apology letters. To everyone in this hotel.” Vox scratched his chin and absentmindedly mimed typing. “Handwritten.” Handwritten? With these claws? That was torture in and of itself! “They get to respond with any grievances they have against you. And then,” Vox sunk further and further into the couch as he realized just how deep repentance goes, “you have to take sufficient action to address those grievances.”

Vox’s eyes went wide and he coughed into his fist. “Princess Morningstar, I appreciate the uh… thoroughness of that proposition, but, um… if I may, thah… ahh… ahh’TZZZZSH! That will take me some time. And I do have a business to run. Forgive me for asking, your Highness, but is there anything that can be done to make this a little more manageable?”

Alastor stepped forward, extending his microphone like an olive branch. “I think we can work something out to lessen your symptoms a bit. After all, you’ve survived allergy season just fine!” Vox suppressed a growl at that. “Oh and don’t forget, I’m a resident of the hotel, so I expect to see your best handwriting in that apology letter!” Alastor said, grinning so wide there was barely any room left on his face.

A grim line set across Vox’s face. He had no leverage here, and everyone knew it. “To repentance, then,” he said with a resigned sigh. “I will write apology letters to every member of the hotel and then, in response to each member’s one letter of grievances, I will take action as determined sufficient by Princess Charlie Morningstar. And doing all of this will fulfill the requested favor and thus free me from this damned virus. Now then,” he said, extending his hand, “do we have a deal?” He felt a sneeze building up as Charlie and Alastor took his hand, then swirls of green, red, and blue energy coursed through them and the sensation was gone. The sneeze was lost. God fucking dammit!

#my snezfic #snezbin hotel #and yes there is an obvious sequel possibility here idk if i'll write it though #also shoutout to snezbin discord for helping me a lil bit with plot and deciding how vox addresses charlie #took me a minute to figure out what the last line would be lol but i like it

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mikkioftheanbu · 6 months

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Hi friends!

Well… here I am, sorry it’s been so long, life kind of fell apart there for a little while. I can tell you how much all the comments and support have meant to me. I’m very much determined to keep writing, and as proof here’s a little snippet of the upcoming chapter of Blade of Silver, Forge of Blue. I don’t know when the whole thing will be out buts it won’t be long! Anyway, here it is, enjoy!

Excerpt from BOSFOB Chapter 4

Overwhelmed by the sudden surge of power and malice, Zuko falls back onto his ass with a sharp thunk. The bird hovers as if suspended by unseen strings, wings spread wide, unflapping, large shadows looming ancient and hungry in the sharply cast corners of the room.

This is real. Zuko thinks with heart-pounding terror. It’s real it’s real it’s real –

“Now.” The bird, the Spirit, lowers itself to the floor, taking measured steps until it’s close enough to spring up and perch on Zuko’s frozen knee. “Shall we begin again?”

Zuko swallows, Music floating through his brain from a far away place. He tries to collect himself enough to speak.

“What… are you?” He whispers.

“That’s the wrong question, boy.” The bird mockingly cocks its head. “Ask a better one.”

Distantly, Zuko understands how dangerous this is. Every lesson he was ever taught about Spirits and the Other World flashes through his mind, Uncle’s grave voice preaching softly over fragrant wisps of tea - Speak plainly. Show no fear. Offer nothing of yourself to them, and ask for nothing in return. The words were always spoken with an undercurrent of fear that Zuko never understood, and now, sitting before a creature barely larger than his thumb, he suddenly understands.

Although it wears the form of a sparrowkeet, Zuko can tell there is something more to the creature in front of him than feathers and skin. It crackles in the air like lightning, painting the back of Zuko’s tongue with the flavor of ozone, and causing the hairs on the back of his neck to rise. Still something deeper in him cries - I know you. I know what you are.

Do you know me too?

Well there you have it! Let me know what you think, I’ll post the new chapter when it’s finished. Thanks again for all your patience!!

#atla #atla zuko #blade of silver forge of blue #blue spirit #fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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dear-departed · 2 years

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hello been reading some of your stuff and will probably continue to read it after i get this out of my mind but i was playing obey me and thinking:

i could not deal with living in the HOL. i have plenty of patience, but the constant fighting of the brothers, lucifers pride stopping him from admitting he is wrong, mammon selling things that dont belong to him for grimm, levi holing himself up and being lowkey manipulative with his self degradation causing you to spend time with him, satans short temper and occasional threats that terrify me, beel constantly eating everything in the house (i have a high metabolism and am very protective of my food for reasons unknown), and belphie sleeping constantly (plus the fact im still kinda salty about being killed in chapter 16 and then him just, acting like it necer happened) and them taking up all my time

basically id go insane, and want to know if you could write a story (long or short) about me sneaking over to purgatory hall, leaving a note saying ill see them at RAD. what id do with the residents (baking with luke, potions and magic with solomon, reading and maybe writing with simeon) and the brothers reactions to me leaving without telling them in advance and being gone so long (a night to a whole weekend)

thank you!!

Hello, Love!

I like this idea, and I totally get what you mean, I don't think I could handle not getting my proper alone time.

I tried my best with this, it got kinda rushed near the end because it was 4 in the morning and I just wanted this baby finished and over with. I loved writing it!

Some of this stuff is very much based off my childhood memories (wet, damp, grass smell is a big thing) and my interests (writing and baking with Simeon and Luke, but MC already knows a little about each) but I hope you enjoy regardless!

MC is gender neutral, and as a prefix, Mx. is used

Warnings: Mild angst, some deep conversations with Solomon, but not much, also Solomon just being a little shit for funsies, mild angst, crying Mammon

Word count: 7k

‘Please, dammit, just let me get through this chapter without another distraction.’

The ruckus downstairs was enough to let you know that this peace and quiet you’ve been enjoying for the past 10 minutes wouldn’t last long.

The noise, that damned noise downstairs. You’d only gotten through a few pages of the book you were reading. Each sentence needed to be read a few times to actually soak into your mind, every grueling detail difficult to take in.

Upon hearing a hasty knock, then the door being burst open, you knew it was over. With a defeated sigh, you slowly shut the book, not bothering to save the page. It’s not like you’d gotten that far anyway, so what was the point?

Mammon and Levi were both quick to storm into the room, Mammon holding up a Ruri-Chan figurine, which was about the size of a beer bottle.

“You greedy ass, give it here!” Levi desperately held out his hand, looking wound up and about ready to headbutt his older brother.

“No way in hell would I give this to you! Do you know how much it’s worth! And besides, I found it, it’s mine! Unless you can cough up 8 thousand grimm, I’m gonna sell it online!” The second born sat himself next to you, far too close than you were comfortable with at the moment.

“I would say until pigs fly, but you’ve got wings, jackass!” Levi directed his eyes toward you, then back to Mammon. “And plus, it’s not fair to barge into MC’s room and push this onto them! I seriously doubt they want to deal with one of my weird hermit problems!”

You let out a deep sigh, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in ever since you heard that knock. “Mammon... just, give him his action figure back.”

“No! Do you get how much this is worth?!”

“Mammon, Avatar of Greed, I command you to give Leviathan, Avatar of Envy, his figurine back!”

It wasn’t worth it to try and reason with him, especially not today, you reasoned. You watched as Mammon’s breath hitched, his mouth falling agape as protest as he groaned, his arms shooting out to hand Levi the action figure back.

Leviathan’s eyes damn near sparkled when you said that. He hands hastily snatching the figurine to his chest, grinning as he blushed, “oh, MC! I really didn’t expect you to actually stick up for me, you’re the best!”

Mammon’s arms dropped back down to his sides, his chest heaving as he sucked in a few quick breaths. “Are you serious, MC?!”

“Don’t look at me like that, you shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.” You hummed. After a while at The House of Lamentation, you learned that Mammon being angry wasn’t really anger. You learned that he almost didn’t have the capacity to truly be mad at you, especially when he knew you were in the right.

He stayed seated, trying to formulate his next smart comeback. He ignored the yelling that erupted from the kitchen. You, however, couldn’t seem to get it out of your head. His next words were a blur to you. Between your rare alone time being interrupted, you just being overall tired, and the dull, aching, pain in your head, everything just came back a little fuzzy.

“MC? Hello? Earth to MC?” Leviathan asked as Mammon waved a hand in front of your face. “Ya okay? Ya seem kinda... out of it.”

“Yes! Yes, I’m fine, I’m perfectly fine, just need a second, so just...” You set your book aside, scooting back on the bed, away from Mammon. The muted warmth radiating off the demon was beginning to get rather uncomfortable, on top of everything. “I’m just... I need a second.” You repeated, hoping, praying, to something out there that they would get the memo and just leave.

“Okay, okay!” Mammon stood up, taking a few steps back. But alas, he didn’t make his way toward the door.

“I mean I need a moment alone. And by a moment, I don’t mean just go out of the room and come back in a minute, I mean please leave me alone unless there’s an issue that you can’t just solve yourselves.” You rubbed your temples, your headache increasing until it felt like the veins in your neck would pop.

“I knew they didn’t want us around, who would?” Leviathan grabbed Mammon, dragging him by the back of the shirt out of the room. Thankfully, Levi is an introvert, and knows the importance of completely shutting someone’s door before leaving. At least that’s one thing.

The yelling from the kitchen was obviously Satan, nobody could mistake it. That strained screaming, where his voice cracked and his voice got deeper, less refined than normal. You could almost see him now, threatening Lucifer, who wouldn’t dare take any part in admitting that he did something to piss Satan off.

When this whole shitshow started, you might’ve gone down to check on it, but it always ended up the same. Someone would get to you first, complaining about someone or something. Christ, it was like you were their only relief in this household.

A thought suddenly crossed your mind, one not too unfamiliar to you. What would happen if you just packed up and went to purgatory hall for a day? Or a few nights? Maybe it would give the brothers some time to get themselves in line, and it would give you time to cool down before you snapped, got your neck snapped. Again.

No, no, you couldn’t. Leaving them would be cruel, especially without any warning? What if Lucifer got pissed off and told Lord Diavolo? And what if Lord Diavolo got upset in turn?

Or what if you just asked Lord Diavolo? He always seemed to be decently understanding. After all, he’s been near the demon brothers for hundreds of years now, he knows how tiring they can get.

So without any further considerations, before you decided to chicken out, you pulled out your D.D.D, opening up Diavolo’s contact.

MC: Lord Diavolo? Can I have your opinion, or blessing on something?

Diavolo: Of course, what is it, MC?

You hesitated for a moment, typing and retyping the words you were about to say next. Should you ask to call him instead? No, someone might hear, and lord knows they’d go feral.

MC: How would you feel about me staying at Purgatory Hall for a few days? Just to cool off? All of the brothers are getting to be a bit much. I hope you understand, and it’s alright if you refuse.

Diavolo: Haha! Of course, you may, those brothers are always so rowdy, I understand! I’ll send over someone to escort you tonight.

Diavolo: And don’t worry, I won’t tell Lucifer, it’ll be our little secret for now

MC: Thank you, Lord Diavolo

He sent an emoji, that one of the Red Devil winking, with its hip jutted out to the side. At least he’s understanding.

The title of a ‘Demon Prince’ was always super intimidating, every portrayal of one like Diavolo was always tyrannical, sadistic, and an overall ass, and there was always this part of you that expected him to respond to you like that.

Great. So now all you had to do is pack a bag without any of them knowing. Which is, arguably, the hardest part of this whole thing.

♥

Just as you thought, packing your bag was hell, all puns intended.

You pretended to take a shower, or in other words, you grabbed a bunch of clothes and a duffle bag and shoved everything you’d need for the weekend into it. A few different outfits, a comb, toothpaste, toothbrush, a stick of deodorant, that sort of stuff.

It felt alien to you. You’d only ever packed to leave the house after the exchange program had first ended, or whenever you went on trips with the brothers.

But as you got a text from Barbatos after some of the brothers had gone to bed, the remaining ones too busy to be out of their rooms at this time of the night, you felt kind of bad. Frustrated, yes, but something in your heart tugged you toward this chaotic bunch. It’s not like you were leaving forever, but still.

Alas, you neatly placed your note on your bed, doing a double-take around the room before hauling your bag up onto your shoulder, your shoes hanging by their laces on the strap of the bag, and stepped out of the door, swinging it shut, then carefully turning the knob and shutting it, making as little noise as possible. You were fully aware Lucifer knew you were out of your room, but that didn’t matter.

As you passed the kitchen, the distant noise of soft grumbling radiated from the dim glow that radiated from the fridge. Satan was going to be pissed about that in the morning, you noted.

You crept further down the hall on soft footfalls, the silver moon bouncing off the walls, the pictures on the walls basking in the familiar sunless Devildom sky.

You felt eyes upon you, but something kept you from turning around. If they were going to stop you, or say something, they would have by now. Your hand lurched for the doorknob, slowly starting to turn the cool metal beneath your warm fingertips. It moved no further. Of course, it would be locked.

You carefully set down your bag, holding the handle with one hand and carefully turning the lock with your other. A soft click sounded from the inner mechanisms of the old lock, proving you successful. You pulled the door open, picking up your bag again and shutting it behind you. You locked it, then took a moment to slide on your shoes finally.

The headlights of the chauffer's car shone in the dull, cold, night. All according to plan.

As that thought passed your mind, you felt the stare burning into the back of your skull dissipate, like a shadow sliding back into its corner, as if it’d been washed away by a cool bucket of water. Yet it left no release.

You walked toward the car, watching as the driver got out and walked to the back of the car. They stood strong, with their hands folded neatly in front of themselves. “Mx. (Last name), welcome.” They greeted, their gloved hand delicately opening the back door, nodding their head toward the seat. Lord Diavolo certainly hadn’t left any room for error, had he? Despite Purgatory Hall being a short walk away. To be fair, though, the Devildom isn’t the safest place for a human to roam at night.

You scooted in the seat, setting your bag to the side. “Thank you, really.”

“No worries, Mx. (Last name), it’s nothing short of my duty.” They offered a polite smile as they shut the door, moving back into the driver’s seat. They glanced at you through the mirror, “Purgatory Hall, correct?”

“Yes.” You traced your finger over the perfect stitching on the leather seats of the car, which smelled faintly of Lucifer’s unmistakable cologne.

As the car pulled away from the House of Lamentation, you slumped further into the seat, letting out a quiet sigh as your muscles relaxed, the anxiety that burned deep in your marrow slowly letting itself loose.

The gentle humming of the car was like a lullaby to your racing thoughts, the way it buzzed as it cruised down the road, it brought you back to different memories in your life. Long car rides at night, riding the bus, the way you used to squint when you were at stoplights to see how blurry you could get the lights to seem, the dank and musty smell of freshly mowed grass after a long day.

It didn’t take long before the car eased to a stop outside Purgatory Hall, the chauffer locking eyes with you through the mirror, that same, sterile, smile catching your attention as they looked at you. “We’ve arrived, I will stay here until you get inside.”

“Alright.” You unlocked and opened the door, slithering out of the seat and tugging the bag along with you. “Thank you, again, I know it really can’t be convenient picking random people up, especially at this hour.”

“Again, it’s no worries. And after all, Mx. (last name), you are no stranger. You’re a friend of both Lucifer and Lord Diavolo.” The driver assured.

You shut the door, walking around the back of the car and making your way up the short path to the front door. You knocked four times before stopping and listening closely for anyone inside the house. After a minute or two of crashing, groaning, and somebody from inside very obviously falling straight on their ass, a light turned on.

A tired-looking Simeon opened the door. “I... what are you...” He squinted, then blinked, seeming quite dazed. You could see the gears turning in his head, before his mouth went slightly agape, his crackly voice going “ohh... I remember now! Come in, come in.” He stepped aside, a loving grin tugging at the edge of his lips, which had a little bit of wet drool leaking off one side of his mouth.

You stepped into the house, the scent of vanilla hitting you square in the face.

Luke veered the corner, Solomon sluggishly following behind him, rubbing one side of his butt, a pained look wrinkling his features. Luke looked tired, but undoubtedly gleeful to see you. “You’re actually staying with us for a few days?!” He grabbed at your wrist, grinning a bit.

The small angel quickly caught himself, “it’s not that I’m happy about that or anything, I mean, I see you all the time! But... I’m happy you’re here!” He put a hand on his hip.

“I’m glad I’m here too, Luke.” You gave the top of his head a gentle pat, returning his tired smile. “I’m sorry to wake you all, and to kind of like, invade your home, even if I did let you know beforehand. I’m just...”

“We get it.” Solomon attempted to tame his hair, only paying attention to you half way. “Those brothers can get really tiring. It’s like, I love them, but even things you love can make you upset sometimes. It’s like listening to the same song on repeat for three hours, but it’s a song you love. You need to take a break from that song for a while before you can enjoy listening to it again.”

“That’s a good analogy, Solomon.” Simeon nodded, giving you a comforting smile. “Do you want a hug? I know times like these can be stressful, and sometimes it can feel like everything around you is just all happening at once, and you want some space from them, I suppose?”

“Yes, please.” You shuffled closer to Simeon, Luke’s soft hand falling from your wrist as you wrapped your arms around the older angel, burying your head into his chest. Jasmin, chamomile, flowers... ugh. You allowed yourself to slip further into his embrace, noting the sudden warmth now connected to your side, Luke. They were warmer than the demon brothers, who were slightly cool to the touch.

Solomon watched from a couple feet away, his eyes filled with want as he stared into the empty spot at your other side. Eventually, he gave in, sinking into your familiar warmth.

Despite not spending nearly as much time here as you did the House of Lamentation, this place felt just as much like home as the other.

After a moment of comfortable, admittedly warm silence, Simeon pulled away, his delicate hands resting upon your shoulders, a smile gracing his angelic features. “I have no doubts you’re exhausted. We already have a place for you to sleep, how about we get you set up so you can get some good, undisturbed, rest?”

“That sounds heavenly.” You sighed, finally realizing how heavy your eyelids were.

He let out a soft laugh, brushing his hand against your cheek. “Well, we try. Solomon, if you don’t mind, can you take them over to their bed area? Luke and I will get them a cup of tea ready.” He and Luke pulled away from you, as did Solomon, who slowly nodded. “Sorry, almost fell asleep on you there.” he giggled, squinting at you. “I can’t stay up as late as I did before, being immortal takes its toll. Come on.” He nodded toward down the hall, making his way through the house with you hot on his tail.

“Luke and Simeon were overjoyed when they heard you were coming.” He said, his slippers making soft patting noises on the hard flooring. “So am I. I feel like we never hang out outside of studying. Maybe I can steal you away for a while, who knows?” He trailed his index finger along the wall, eventually stopping at a series of doors. “They decided to set up your sleeping arrangement in my room. Feel free to freshen up in the bathroom, you can sleep on the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch, unless you’re open to the idea of sharing a bed.” He paused, appraising your reaction.

You felt your face heat up, the tips of your ears becoming hot as you laughed, shaking your head as you stared at the floor. “You’ve been spending too much time with Asmo, I swear.” You set your bag by the sofa.

“Well, I’ve only known him for a few centuries, I wouldn’t say too long. So... was that a yes?”

“Solomon, I’m not taking your bed, I’m the guest, I’m sleeping on the sofa.” You shook your head, sitting down on the sofa, taking one of the throw pillows and placing it beneath your head.

“Well then, I guess we’re sharing the couch. I’m not sleeping on the bed either. As you said, you’re the guest, and you came here to feel comfortable.” He clambered onto the couch as well, humming triumphantly at you as Luke and Simeon both entered the room, a few cups of warm “sleepy time” tea in hand.

“This should get you nice and sleepy if you weren’t already, or at least calm you down.” Simeon placed two of the steaming cups onto the coffee table, placing coasters beneath them. “Be careful, it’s really hot.”

You made a mental note of now Luke’s cup wasn’t steaming, and he in fact had his other hand wrapped around the cup. Simeon definitely cooled it down for him, how sweet.

“Thank you, again. I know it’s a pain, but like you said, they get overwhelming sometimes.” You stared into your cup, the honey-colored liquid reflecting back yourself, someone who had gone through many big events and changes since you arrived in the Devildom. Someone who had died, come back to life, went through many death threats from various demons, including those closest to you.

And yet, a lot of the time, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Despite how unforgiving it is for humans, it’s oddly comforting.

“Really, MC, it’s no problem. Even in the celestial realm they were a bit much at times.” Simeon leaned down, planting a goodnight kiss on your forehead. “Now, you should get some rest. Don’t let Solomon be too mean to you.” he teased, giving your cheek a gentle pat before both he and Luke left the room, shutting the door behind them.

Solomon dipped his finger into his tea, muttering a quiet spell into the liquid, in a tongue you didn’t recognize. It must have been a spell he hadn’t taught you yet. “What’d you do to it?” You quirked a brow, watching as he chugged the cup down.

“I turned it into gin.” He smirked, looking up at you through his frosted lashes.

“Solomon!”

“Just kidding, I cooled it down. Want me to do the same for you.?” he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, clearing his throat a little.

“Sure, if you don’t mind.” You scooted your cup of tea out to him. He dipped the very tip of his finger into the piping hot contents of the cup, muttering the same, soft, incantation before pulling his hand away. “Alright, should be fine, test it.”

You carefully picked up the cup, tipping it up just enough to touch the liquid to your lips. “It’s perfect.” Somehow, he’d gotten it to the perfect temperature. You took a long sip, savoring the lightly sweet, floral, drink. It slid down your throat smoothly, warming your body just enough to be oh so satisfying.

“I’m glad.” He idly watched you drink your tea, playing with a piece of loose thread in one of the cushions of the sofa, thinking of his next words. “I’m not supposed to say this, but Simeon’s making pancakes tomorrow morning because you decided to stay over. Don’t say anything to like, though. He’ll go feral; you know how much he loves Simeon’s pancakes.” He let his eyes stray, slowly beginning to stare straight through you.

He was knocked out from his daze when you set your cup down. He shook it off, grabbing both of the cups. “I’ll take these to the kitchen; you get comfy on the bed.” He smiled, the little dark circles underneath his blueish brown eyes, which showed up very prominently on his pale skin.

‘nice try, old man.’

He made a graceful exit from the room, but you couldn’t help but notice how he hobbled slightly. Damn, how had had he fallen on his ass?

You pulled your D.D.D from your pocket, half-expecting a flurry of texts and calls from the brothers. All you were met with, however, was a few stray texts from Diavolo and Barbatos, briefly letting you know that the driver was there, or asking if you’d gotten there safely. You assured them you had, setting your phone in your bag.

Solomon returned a minute later, quirking an icy brow.

“...Damn you, Solomon.” You feigned annoyance as you climbed onto the bed, slipping beneath the covers. “I’m not having you sleeping on the couch, either. Come here.”

“Roger.”

♥

You awoke to the sweet scent of pancakes wafting through the air, and the weight of Solomon sliding off the bed. You let out a soft groan, rolling over onto your back and staring at the ceiling. It was so relaxing to not be woken up by Mammon bursting through your door, so nice to not hear someone screaming downstairs.

“Good morning, sleepy head. You slept like a rock last night.” The sorcerer chuckled, turning his back to you as he took off his shirt, swapping it out for a fresh one. Right, today was a weekend, nobody had school.

“H... wha?...” You moaned, the feeling of sleep slipping through your fingers as you slowly sat up, still not entirely able to tell if this was a dream or not.

“I got up a few times, and let me tell you, you didn’t move at all. You must’ve been really tired.” He grabbed a pair of pants and some boxers and whisked himself off to the bathroom, leaving you in a blurry daze.

You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the fog clouding your mind. Oh right, you snuck out without telling the brothers anything.

You groggily got out of bed, feeling both the most well-rested yet the most tired you’d ever been in your life. You quickly changed, trying to finish up before Solomon came out of the bathroom.

Hesitantly, you picked up your phone. Surprisingly, though, you only had 13 texts. Which may seem like a lot, but... all of the brothers texted once or twice, Lucifer told them to give you some space in the group chat, messaged you that he was sorry for any discomfort they may have caused, and that seemed to be that. Sure, they moped, but you didn’t get any calls, no texts, after that.

With that off your chest there wasn’t a lot to worry about anymore. No upset brothers, just mildly tickled demon men, which you could live with.

“I’m back, let’s get to the dining room.” Solomon stood by the doorway, bowing his head lightly, motioning you into the hallway. You followed along, with all the lights on, you were fully able to take in the vivid and rich paintings lining the walls.

Upon entering the dining room, you see Simeon being the perfect malewife, I mean being very helpful.

He’s setting the table, a large plate of pancakes in the center, with plates for everyone in their respective places, your plate was placed between him and Luke.

Luke was also being helpful, bringing out a carton of milk and juice, setting cups and silverware next to everyone’s plates. It was obvious he was trying to contain his excitement, his lips were pursed, barely suppressing the grin that lay beneath his attempt at a calm façade.

“Breakfast is served!” Simeon said in his melodic voice, his tone wafting through the air the same as the smell of the pancakes. A gentle smile graced his features as he eyed you up and down, tilting his head. “I heard you slept well?”

“I slept great, I hope you did, too... even though I did wake you up to stay over.” You smiled in return, earning a blush from the angel.

“MC! You have to come over more often! I mean, please come over more often!” Luke took his place at the table, looking absolutely thrilled.

His favorite people all in the same room, with his favorite food, all in a good mood. Nothing could beat this moment, right here.

You, Solomon, and Simeon all sat in your respective places, chatting while peacefully chowing down on the awesome breakfast that Simeon had made. You let them all know about the texts you’d seen, and they were happy to hear that the brothers at least agreed to give you some space for the time being.

“It’s really peaceful here” you remarked, shoveling a forkful of pancake into your mouth.

“Yes, I do think it’s peaceful here, for the most part. After all, including you, the house does have eight people. That’s a lot of people all at once, and including you, we only have four, so really, we’re just less crowded. And I do admit, some of the brothers are crazy in the mornings.” Simeon laughed, covering his mouth.

“This is really good, Simeon.” Solomon leaned an elbow on the table, sending you all a little grin. “I think I should make breakfast tomorrow morning. It’s only fair, you and Luke already cooked, so I think I should take over tomorrow. After all, I’ve been looking at this new recipe for w-”

“NO! NO CHANCE IN... I mean...” Simeon cleared his throat, nearly choking on his bite of pancake. “Luke and I are more than happy to cook, it's our hobby, after all” He smiled. “There’s really no need to overwork yourself, Solomon.”

“Oh no, I insist. You really should look at this recipe, Simeon. I think adding my own twist would make it taste better, though.” Solomon took a swig of juice.

“Your food is really, really... special. I just don’t think our stomachs are used to how good it is, so-” Simeon started, only to be cut off by Luke.

“You suck at cooking-”

“Luke!-”

“Sorry! It just slipped out! Not even Beel can eat It, though!”

You couldn’t help but put your head in your hands and laugh, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. And the worst part? You knew Solomon was aware how awful his cooking was. He just didn’t care.

“I’m sorry, Solomon, but he’s right. I think there’s a 50/50 chance that you either die or become immortal when someone eats your cooking” You gave the sorcerer a playful glance, who winked in return.

♥

Apparently Simeon gets the most motivation in the mornings.

He invited you to shoot some ideas back and forth for one of his up-and-coming books. This mostly consisted of you attempting to teach him how the hell to run the “word” program on his computer, which he so kindly got from one of Leviathan’s suggestions.

He’s still amazed that it turns on.

But imagine his fucking shock when you boot up Microsoft word. His eyes go wide and he started exploring all of the options.

Every single one of them.

He knew what a lot of them were, the font options, alignment, things like that, but what the hell are ‘wingdings?

“Simeon, those are pretty much colorless emojis but for a Microsoft word document, you don’t need those to write. Those are for like, flyers, and pamphlets, y’know?” You pointed back to the ‘home’ tab, but he stayed on the ‘insert’ tab.

“How do I get these on my D.D.D? I haven’t seen these emojis on my phone.” He began to browse through them, littering his document with hearts, cartoon spider webs, smiley faces, everything under the sun.

“You can’t, Simeon, I’ll show you those later, let’s just start with the ideas.” You put your hand over his, directing him back to the ‘home’ tab. His shoulders slumped a little, yet he nodded. “You’re right, I need to actually start.”

For a while, the two of you just snacked and had drinks while he bounced different novel ideas off you, listening to your opinions on different plot ideas.

Eventually, he pulled out a notebook and laid his head in your lap, tapping a pen against his lips. “Now, what are some good side character names? I’m running low on names I haven’t used before.” He clicked the pen against his temple, scribbling on the corner of the page to make sure it worked.

“How about... Elyssa?”

“Oh, that’s a good one! Like... a high elven princess, I can see her being this regal figure, morally grey.” He kicked one leg onto the other, humming softly as he jotted the name down.

“Harris.”

“I’ve used that one before.”

“Uh... Astrophel!”

“That one, too.”

“Vivian”

“Okay, okay, that’s good, I don’t have any ideas for her, but I’m sure some will come eventually.”

“Ezra.”

“I like that!”

This went on for who knows how long. Sometimes he would just set his notebook down while you idly raked your hands through his hair, trying to think of more names after you ran out.

♥

Next was baking with Luke, apparently, Barbatos had “assigned” him lemon meringue cookies, and Luke would be damned if he failed an assignment from one of his mentors.

He pulled out four eggs, turning to glance at you. “Do you know how to separate the whites from the yolks?”

“yeah-”

“Do NOT separate them with your fingers! Because if you do, the oils from your fingers-” he wiggled his fingers in the air “-will keep the proteins from whipping up in the egg whites! Because fat keeps things from whipping up unless it is fat based. That’s why we wiped the mixing bowl with lemon, because it’s acidic, and cuts away any remaining fat in the bowl!”

You were vaguely aware of this, but hey, why not let the kid have his fun being smarter than you?

“Yes, Sir Luke!” You saluted, taking the eggs delicately in your hands. “And I’ll make sure to crack them in a separate bowl so I don’t get any shells in them, either.” You assured, pulling out another, smaller, bowl. You cracked them over the sink, saving the yolk for later and putting the egg white into the other bowl.

“I’ll get started on the syrup.” You heard Luke working on the stove behind you, humming a soft little tune to himself as he focused. You appraised the egg whites, carefully placing them into the mixing bowl after you picked out any shells remaining. “What now?”

“Start the mixer on medium, and add in this when it gets foamy, catch!” he tossed you a small plastic container of a white, powdery, substance. ‘Cream of tartar’, the label read.

“How much do I put in?”

“Only a teeny tiny bit, ¼th of a teaspoon, there should be a spoon for it inside the 1/2th.”

“Roger that.” You did as told, deciding to muse the kid “so, what’s this for?”

“Oh, cream of tartar is to stabilize the egg whites! After a certain point, egg whites can get too whipped and deflate! So, when you add...” you tuned him out as you eyed the egg whites, watching them get foamy, then as they grew in volume.

“It’s awesome you know all of this, Luke, it’s really impressive.” You turned back to glance at him, to see his face bright red.

“You think so, MC?... I don’t know what to say...” He stared at his shows. “Thank you, it means a lot that you think I’m smart, and not just some dumb little kid.”

“Of course, I don’t think you’re just some dumb kid, Luke. You’re in direct contact with Michael, after all. I know he’d only ever choose the best angels to help him.” You ruffled his hair. “I like how you appreciate the little things, like how you really like Simeon’s pancakes, and how you won’t say it, but you actually don’t mind demons. They’re nicer than you thought, huh?”

“...Yeah. They are. I like Beel. He's scary sometimes, but I know he cares about his family, kind of like how I care about you and Simeon. I think of you all as family.” He sniveled, looking up at you and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, quivering smile tugging at his lips. “You’re the best family I could ask for.”

Who knew an angel with such a sweet tooth could be sweeter than what he bakes?

After calming Luke back down, which apparently, he’s a happy crier sometimes, the two of you got back to work.

He picked up the boiling pot of sugar syrup and you helped slowly pour it in while the egg whites were still mixing. “It won’t scramble, don’t worry!” he stated proudly as he drizzled in more of the syrup.

Slowly, the egg whites in the bowl became stiffer and glossier until the entirety of the syrup was in the mixer. Then, you both added yellow food coloring and lemon extract.

The oven, preheated to 225 degrees Fahrenheit, or 80 degrees Celsius, was then ready for the freshly piped meringue, in perfect, crimped peaks.

They turned out amazing after a few hours, the lemon flavor bursting through the foamy sugar like a delightfully sour surprise.

♥

Lastly, you decided to join Solomon in his room to study, which was fun, to say the least.

He knows how to have fun while also keeping you engaged, playfully casting harmless spells on you, having you taste-test potions with short-term effects.

“Now, add the chopped bits of the poison fire coral to the cauldron. That’s right, good.” He guided your hand with the scoop toward the cauldron, directing you carefully.

“Is it supposed to do that?” The liquid inside the pot began to spurt and sparkle, sending little bits of flame flying toward you both. He didn’t flinch as they landed on his bare skin, dissipating instantly.

“Perfectly normal, just stay calm.” he checked his watch, seemingly counting the seconds.

“and... twelve! See, it stopped!” He gestured to the cauldron, which did indeed, cease with the whole ‘spewing fire’ thing.

“Now, try it.” He dipped a glass spoon into the shiny, bright red, liquid, holding it close to your lips. It burned your nose lightly when you sniffed it, not really having a smell, just kind of burning.

“Isn’t poison fire coral deadly?”

“Oh, very, but this potion neutralizes it. Trust me, I use it all the time.”

Hesitantly, you sipped the smooth, slightly thick, potion from the spoon. It sent shooting pain down your throat, as if a million fire and were crawling up and down your innards. “Oh, my gods, that hurts!”

“Just wait a second.”

Sure enough, the pain went away as soon as it came. “What did that even do besides hurt me?”

“Blow me.”

“WHAT? SOLOMON!”

“No, I mean like, blow air at me!”

You let out a puff of air through your lips. A bright reddish orange flame spewed from your delicate lips, reaching out to lick his cheek, like the hand of a deadly yet seductive mistress. The fire caressed his skin lightly, not daring to light his hair aflame. In fact, he seemed unphased by it, as if it wasn’t warm whatsoever.

“I can breathe fire?!”

“Kind of. Try to blow on your hand.” He instructed.

You did as he said, noticing that the flame felt slightly cool, an exact parallel of what you’d felt in your throat moments earlier.

“It only lasts for a little bit, only about 30 minutes. I have an antidote, if you’d like one.”

“As long as it can’t catch anything on fire, I’m fine with having this for 30 minutes, count me in!” As you excitedly talk, little bursts of flame expelled from your lips, wisping past your hair.

He chuckled, leaning on his arm. “You know...” he shook his head “I quit befriending mortals because so many of them die whenever you’re super close to them. Yet oddly enough, I can’t stop myself from being close to you. You’re like trying to resist... gee, I’ll say, you’re like trying to resist sin itself. But I’d say you’re the best sin out there.” He stared into your eyes. “Damn you for being a human. I might just have to turn you immortal with me.”

♥

Back at the house, before you’d woken up, Mammon ran to Lucifer, freaking the hell out, waving your note in his hand like a madman. “MC!... Lucifer, bro, it’s MC, th-they ran away, a-and... they said they ran away but I don’t believe it because why the hell do they need to run away they just said that needed to go to Purgatory Hall for a break but why wouldn’t they just tell us?! And Lucifer we’ve gotta go lookin’ for them becasue only dad knows where the hell they are now! What if someone just wrote like them? There are a lotta people in the Devildom who would kill to hurt or take them and I’m worried and...” He sucked in a breath of air, choking on his sobs.

Lucifer furrowed his brows, snatching the note from Mammon, going over the note a few times. “I’m calling a family meeting to see if anybody knows about this. We will contact Lord Diavolo if there is reason, but we don’t have suspicion to believe that they were captured. Here, seem like you need it.” Lucifer offered Mammon a sip of his water, who just shook his head.

Dammit, why was he so bothered by this? Why did it rub him the wrong way? Was he sick in the head or something for assuming that was where you’d gone? Or was it a normal reaction? Either way, he just... he had to know you were safe. Regardless of if you probably were, as your first man, it’s his duty to know you’re safe.

Everyone gathered in the living room, half worried sick, the other half of the brothers not really surprised at all.

“First order of business.” Lucifer folded his hands neatly on his lap. “I did hear MC awake last night, they walked out of their room, I know that. I heard them. But I need to know if any of you saw them leave, and if they were alone.”

All of the brothers stayed silent and still, all but Belphie, who quietly raised his hand. “I saw them leave.”

“And you didn’t stop them?! What if they get hurt?!” Mammon exclaimed, “are ya crazy?!”

Belphie shook his head “no, I didn’t stop them. They were checking their phone when I saw them. I was trying to get Beel back to our room. I saw one of Lord Diavolo’s cars out the window. I think they’re fine. They had a bag and everything. I really do think they just got overwhelmed.” He curled up on the sofa like a cat, laying his head on his arms.

“Oh.” Mammon stopped having what appeared to be a heart attack, shiveling as he wiped up his tears. “Well... so... they’re fine? I was worryin’ over nothin’?”

Nobody responded to him as Lucifer drew his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call Lord Diavolo just to double check, but thank you, Belphie.”

“yeah.”

Lucifer dialed up Diavolo, who answered right away. “Hello, Lord Diavolo? You’re on speaker. My brothers and I would like to know if you had a car pick up MC last night.”

The demon prince’s giggle came clear through the phone, a failed attempt at stifling his glee “I won’t tell, Lucifer. I’ve been sworn to secrecy~”

“So, I’m guessing that’s a yes?” Lucifer rubbed his temples with a quiet yet exasperated sigh.

“...You see right through me, Lucifer! Yes, you’ve caught me.” He pouted.

“Understood, I will inform my brothers to not contact MC until further notice, thank you for the explanation, have a nice day. Goodbye.”

“...So, they’re fine.” Mammon put a hand on his chest, taking a deep breath. “Okay then. I don’t, how will I keep myself entertained?”

“Figure it out yourself, I’m taking a nice long nap with a body pillow.”

“I think I’m gonna go to Hell’s kitchen.

“I’m taking a self care day!”

“I’ll update MC on the book I’m reading when they return.”

“I’ll get some good manga for MC to read when they get back!”

“...I might go to the casino.”

“Mammon, I will string you up if you dare go within 500 feet of a facility that inhibits gambling.”

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somany-fandoms-solittle-time · 7 months

Text

“What’s so Special About the Moon?”

Jamil Viper x MC(insert character Mac)

(Ch. 1) – Ch. 2 – Ch. 3 – Ch. 4 – Next – Previous

This was originally supposed to be, like, a single chapter hurt/comfort before my OC (Mac) and Jamil as a song fic where they berate him and then sing a song referencing the moon… but then I had feelings and it’s becoming a more in depth character study between the two. Don’t worry! By the end of this mini series, there will be song lyrics and more sappiness… it’s just now that I’ve finished both Book 4 and Book 5, I need to reorganize the events and specific and whatnot. Some quick housekeeping as always: I tried to make Jamil to encompass both his dark & mysterious villain persona ALONG WITH him practically being a fucking child so that’s why I wrote him like *this* so yeah… I’m moving around the timeline so that Yuu/MC (aka Mac) has the weekend to GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER LOL, Mac is about 19-20 (haven’t decided yet) and uses mixed pronouns as a heads up, Ch. 2 has a 1st draft written put still needs to be typed up and edited. If you see a typo NO YOU DIDN’T!!! This one of my first times trying a different writing doc that isn’t Google (cuz fuck Google) and it’s a little weird to get used to and edit stuff. It’s beta-d in the sense that licking the spatula while your mom bakes cookies and claiming that you helped… literally only a few paragraphs were checked over y’all.

Quick shout-out to @krenenbaker and @twst-beam for inspiring my writing thus far (and sorry for taking so long to post this lol!)

I’ll be releasing some type of overview of my OC eventually, but take these snippets as they go while I fall back in love with writing. You’ll meet Mac in full when xey are good and ready… anyway, please enjoy Chapter 1 of my new fanfiction, “What’s So Special About the Moon?”

“Here. You can use this one,” Jamil directed towards the plain (compared to the rest of the dorm) laundry… mat? There were several industrial sized washer and dryers, a couple moderate-sized one’s that would fit a regular apartment complex, and a long wall designated area for hand washed items. Jamil was keeping the door prompt open with his hips; his slight frown of concentration and the flick of his Magic Pen were the only signs of the current spell he had going. Turning around, MC was slightly surprised by the massive piles of fabric that was being corralled in via multiple a massive sheet tied to multiple brooms. They still couldn’t fully grasp the concept (and power) of magic and seeing it so casually performed on a day-to-day basis was kinda daunting.

“Thanks again for letting us use the space along with showing me how to properly clean all these fancy duds and whatnot.” the Ramshackle Perfect awkwardly trailed off. Their focus was split between stealing peaks at the Scarabia Vice Warden, not wanting to bother the already busy Sophomore, and surveying over the dusty, damaged antique pieces the two stripped from the halls of the previously abandoned dorm. Rugs, carpets, curtains, furniture covers (in varying state of disrepair) dulled of their once rich and vibrant color. The patterns were a mix of stuffy academia and the quiet comfort of a grandparents cottage living room. Both extravagant, yet understated. It’s a style lost to time, but not quite a revived ancient aesthetic.

At this point MC was fully lost in thought; they desperately needed to clean, fix, organize and decorate the dorm in preparation to host so many guests. Even with his limited memories, they had a feeling they’d never hear the end of it from his parents.

“Don’t worry about it much.” Jamil said, interrupting their musings. “Honestly, I’m doing this as much for myself as I am helping you.

With a flick of his wrist, Jamil organized the seemingly random crumbled piles of fabric by condition, color and use. His movements while cleaning were quick, smart, and efficient-- all while patiently showing Mac which order to start in along with the best way to clean them.

“Ya’ know…” MC broke the relative quietness between the two workers, “Even with everything thing that happened over break, I understand why Kalim still trusts you; I almost can believe that you’re not that bad of a guy.” Jamil gave xem a startled (and exasperated) look, but they continued before he could respond: “I fail to see how helping the person who ruined your ‘world domination’ plans—”

“They were hardly World Domination level!” He quickly snapped. His embarrassment led to him tugging his hood further down his face, teeth slightly clenched, and dilated eyes as MC continued listing all the ways he’s “helped” them out.

The magic-less Perfect laughed to themselves the more conflicting emotions flew across Jamil’s face. Eventually those same emotions were compressed behind a cold, smooth mask. Limestone slabs and stiff mud brick walls were swiftly constructed between the two working-class students. Something about it didn’t sit right with Mac.

“Hey I’m not saying what you pulled wasn’t a dick move! But you’re also not the first overly-traumatized teen boy I’ve had to deal with… and between what you’ve said about yourself, plus thing’s I’ve heard and seen, I’m starting to think you’re not nearly as complicated as you think you are.” The longer they argued *to* him, the more Jamil’s mask began to crack; there were a few holes in his walls he didn’t account for. Xe’s a tad more observant than I remember, but weirdly just as persistent, Jamil internally rolled his eyes.

“I could still change my mind and send you back to deal with the Pomefiore Wrath(tm),” He mumbled while gracefully lugging the newly cleaned (and damp) furniture coverings into an empty drier. Despite his harsh threat, MC still remembered him assuring the other this laundry room was only ever used by him after Kalim’s parties.

The large machines and larger working space was specifically added for the servant to clean and repair any decor or Asim Family Treasures when Kalim’s recklessness caused a larger mess than usual. This meant that Mac and Grim (who was originally supposed to be helping… where the hell was he anyway?) could do as many loads needed without worry. On top of the borrowed space, the Housewarden himself had cheerily has assured them, his Oasis Maker would replace all the water used ten times over!

Mac’s thoughts were interrupted once again as Jamil relented, “I told you, I’m doing this to help me.” After receiving an unconvinced eyebrow raise, Jamil began to explain, “Kalim might’ve announced us as equals but I still have a job to do. If he got sick while spending Allah knows how long in a dusty, dirty, shabby condemned building like Ramshackle I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“It’s not nearly that bad anymore!” the sole-human resident of said dorm argued, but was quickly shut up with a tired gesture towards the untouched loads of laundry left to be done.

“On top of that,” Jamil smirked “Even a common peasant like myself wouldn’t sleep in a rundown garbage heap if I can help it.” His smirk slowly slide off his face from his face as the insulted Perfect almost ripped the handful of soapy doilies, that they were previously scrubbing by hand, as xey prepared a retaliation.

“OK, first of all! This whole Inferior-Superior shtick isn’t going to prove your point. If I’m being totally honest, I’m pretty used to the bratty, arrogant attitude of teenagers by now (even if I wasn’t Leona is a thousand times worse).” They turned their full body to face the 2nd year boy before continuing the assault. “Secondly, even just doing the bare minimum would’ve been fine, considering I’ve slowly been deep cleaning them place room by room. This is just last minute cleaning considering I wasn’t expected to host six extra people in two days.”

The shock of Mac’s care and attention to detail couldn’t win over Jamil’s newfound freedom to be right… and sassy while doing it. “Keep in mind you wouldn’t be the only one having to deal with Vil. His expectations are much higher than my personal standards—”

“Getting there!” MC interrupted again. “It’s not like Vil and whoever else couldn’t magic things better or get things done over at Pomefiore.” However, their fire started to die down with their obvious lack of understanding of magic. Not that Xeir level of intellect ever stopped them from talking out of their ass during debates… even if this wasn’t exactly shaping up to be anything like Debate Club back home.

“Not the point!” Mac built back their steam after thoughtlessly shaking off any internal distractions. “Third of all,” Jamil groaned not-so-quietly, “third of all, you didn’t have to show me how to do it. Nor did you have to continue helping me. There’s only so much I could pay you back in favors and it’s not like you’ll make back the time and energy spent. You’re obviously a bit of a piece of shit but I don’t totally blame…”

Jamil suddenly gave Mac his full attention. He smoothed any emotional tells from his face and readied himself to actively dissect what ever left xeir mouth and any messages in between the lines. The silence prompted Mac to drip extra sincerity as they begin to ramble without thinking.

“… I get why you did what you did. You’re not totally forgiven, but it’s not like I’ll hold a grudge over you forever. Whenever I joke about Winter Break I thought you knew it was just that: a joke.”

The two stared at one another for a few beats. Jamil betrayed nothing that he was thinking, but Mac could practically feel the exasperation flooding off of him in great waves. The disbelief pushing and pulling off of him, despite remaining stone cold to zeir admission. So, of course, they continued with slight for fever:

“Yeah, okay, you held us all prisoner, enslaved via hypnosis your entire dorm, and nearly killed multiple students. Twice.” Mac cringed at their own blunt statement, “… But why would you go as far as you did, if you didn’t care! What your parents, and more specifically your culture, put you through wasn’t fair—but you obviously still love and cherish them!”

At this, he seemed to get even more guarded. It felt patronizing to be hold how he supposedly felt or why he should feel a specific way. They hadn’t been there. They hadn’t grown up as a Viper in the Desert, constantly reminded by Kalim’s Mirage of wealth what he could never have. They didn’t know the FIRST thing about the Scalding Sands—!

“… How do you know anything about my parents? Did Kalim--?!” He choked out infuriated at the mere implication.

“Relax Viper! It’s all in the Secret of The Ooze™”

“What?”

“Never mind…”

The usual absurdity of MC’s references (much to xeir chagrin that no one seemed to understand them) Jamil allowed himself a shadow of a smirk. Right about now they’d drop what they were saying and instead empathize with him over terrible bosses. They’d both fall back into a familiar pattern of quiet understanding while making playful small talk; maybe Xe’d make a remark over how “hellish” the desert temperature is and moan about being “a poor Northern forced into the sun” before dragging them both off to grab an abominably sweet drink that Kalim would still put sugar in. Xe had always been could at mediating with the other students at NCR.

However, they didn’t drop it. They continued to push him… especially when they realized that he expected the conversation to have ended and started to relax. Xey pushed and pushed and pushed. Finally, they had circled back to him rebelling from his status.

“What? You think I’d be Happier staying a lowly servant?! I’d rather cut my own tongue out than remain bending to Kalim’s will for the rest of my days.” He huffed, still not stopping his assault on the pile of laundry in front of him.

A frustrated sigh left Mac as Xey tried to get their point across, “THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M SAYING!… Obviously, you don’t love being forced into child labor or having to pretend to be something you’re not, but that doesn’t mean you’re totally being honest with yourself either. Rebelling adolescents often do a complete 180 of who they once presented as in an extreme action to feel validated.”

Jamil scoffed in indignation at the impromptu therapy session he’d been forced into.

“Just because you were forced to lie sometimes as ‘Servant Jamil’ doesn’t mean those memories or feelings weren’t authentic!”

“My Childhood, my Pride, my ENTIRE LIFE was stolen from me before I could even open my eyes, Mac! Who could cherish that sort of future?”

“I’m not disputing that! I’m not trying, in any way, to imply that what you went through didn’t fucking suck. But just because you’ve started saying the quiet part out loud doesn’t mean you’re being totally honest either. Switching one mask for another just means nothing has changed but your ability to bitch about-it to the kid you literally Grew Up With, Jamil.” A tired resignation was growing in their eyes as they headed to the end of xeir rant.

It was clear MC was starting to speak in circles and xey weren’t going to be able to get through to them. A heavy weight sunk deep in their chest, slowly sliding to xeir stomach the more he misunderstood the magic-less student. I saw him drown in the depths of his own helplessness and self-pity, but even after he’s been pulled out it’s like he can’t help but dive back in for a swim. It was a suffocating thought while Mac watched as Jamil once again went stone-faced… Like what he was about to say would be his final shield before walking away. It’s a shame that the Ramshackle Resident had become too used to throwing bombs over walls and blowing verbal shields to smithereens after months of being stuck in Twisted Wonderland.

“I’m not sugarcoating or bowing down to anyone anymore. I won’t bite my tongue. I won’t put on a Happy Face to Kalim’s idiotic, half-thought out ideas again. I’m slowly gaining my freedom, something you clearly don’t understand. Just because you’re as blind as he is doesn’t mean anything! What more could you want from me?!” He hissed his final insult before finally stepping away from his station. Not leaving the room, he aggressively got himself a cup of water from one of the sink and gulped the unfiltered water down.

“Just because you’re not hiding your bitter, knee-jerk reaction from an unfair world doesn’t mean you aren’t still hiding away and lying about your more vulnerable emotions.” Mac whispered in an emotionless tone. “Cutting a part of your past off and pretending it was never there is doing yourself a disservice and lying to those that still care about you… And there sure-as-shit isn’t much that I hate more than a Fucking Liar.”

. . . . . .

The lacy doilies sat in a sudsy basin, left forgotten as the two students stood a mere paces from each other—both maintaining an uncomfortably intense eye contact. The sloshing thump of the washers and stirring hum of driers harmonizing were the only song to accompany the two’s stare down. A short hiccup as Mac took a drawn out breath was the only reaction between the two of them. The combined heat of Scarabia’s sun (barely past 10am) and the humidity of continued use of machinery didn’t help the suffocating air in the wide laundry room. Not to mention the loud, stifling silence to boot.

MC usually held back such honest commentary (not that they weren’t blunt) unless Xe deemed it necessary: think high stakes and a sense of urgent drama. But something about Jamil and Kalim’s situation reminded them of himself. The two’s intertwined dance of class, history, loyalty and betrayal, friendship and loss, and such overwhelming guilt reminded the dimension hoping stranger of home. Whatever that meant.

But this was no time to get lost in their own problems and Trauma’s. They’d went too far (again) and that means xey should be the bigger person (again) and deescalate the situation before he hated them (AGAIN). Which means, MC would be the one to break the silence and run away again.

“Ya’ know what? Grim’s probably burned the school down already. Don’t worry about,” Ze gestured blindly to the numerous stations they’d started, “this mess. I’ll rope my little Rat Gremlin and the Freshies into finishing this up. Hell, I could probably convince Rugs to pitch in for lunch or something. Bully the Music Club with helping in exchange of random sheet music I still remember from home.”

Their rambles became more spastic as they noticed Mr. Sugar, Spice and Not-So-Nice break out of his own trance and try to reply. “Seriously! Just enjoy the break… Not that it’s my place or responsibility to be butting in anyway. I will be back in, like, 10 minutes and from here-on-out minding my own damn business. Sorry. Whatever. See you sometime after Sunday, I guess?” Their entire monoluge Mac was slowly backing out of the room before turning around in xeir spot and just short of sprinting their way out of the dorm. A few passerby Scarabia students stopped to eavesdrop on xeir muttering… watch them leave.

Without getting a word in Jamil stood unmoving, watching the Ramshackle Perfect leave swifter than the desert wind shifting the dunes. Almost on auto-pilot, he simply left to go back to his room and do as he was told; enjoy his break. His day off. The day he could do what he liked and didn’t necessarily have to prioritize work. A day he spent working to help and assist the pitiful, magic-less loser that was dropped-kicked into another reality and forced to play nice with a University filled with overpowered and hormonal teenagers while having no way home… And in return was insulted, psychoanalyzed, and thrown aside before he could get a word in edgewise.

“Son of a STREET RAT!!!!!” It was clear he’d need a few hours to calm down before he could even think of trying to enjoy the rest of his Saturday off.

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