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#mae writings
clairenatural · 7 months
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Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.
It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.
It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.
He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.
Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.
So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.
It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”
Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 
Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 
The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”
It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.
Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.
"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.
Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.
"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.
"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.
He turns the keys. He drives them home.
Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).
Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.
It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"
Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."
"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."
"You didn't correct her?"
"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.
"Uh huh."
"It felt trivial."
"To tell her we're not married?"
"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.
Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."
"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.
Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.
"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"
Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"
Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."
Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."
Across the table, Cas grins at him.
"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.
"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."
"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."
They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.
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noctude · 2 months
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don’t light my fire!!!
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quotefeeling · 4 months
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All you can do in life is to be who you are. Some people will love you for you. Most will love you for what you can do for them, and some won’t like you at all.
Rita Mae Brown
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uuyuomi · 4 months
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LOVERS’ MORNING TEA.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ━ as a new dawn greets the quaint settlement of qiaoying village, you and gaming prepare for your shared morning breakfast together. but it appears man chai’s antics this morning are much more mischievous than usual. much to gaming’s displeasure. (or craving love and attention)
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gaming x reader | w.c: 879 | tags: gn reader, est. relationship, fluff
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sunlight filters through the tree leaves above; soft bright streams pouring out of every gap as a mellow summer breeze travels through the air that becomes sweeter with the passing of time.
chin resting on your hand, a brief sigh escapes through your nose as you gaze upon the unperturbed green tea fields and azure skies.
compared to the ever lively and bustling dawns of liyue harbor, mornings in qiaoying village are always so serene and full of bliss tranquility.
tea merchants rise with the sound of birds chirping in the distance, greeting them anew as they prepare for the day’s work that lies ahead. meanwhile, the locals step out of their homes one by one, preparing to either hang their washed laundry or indulge themselves in a refreshing cup of fine morning tea with savoring dim sum—much like yourself.
you watch as a faint steam continues to emit from your untouched cup of tea, patiently waiting for the heat to simmer down a bit.
although many would argue that tea is best enjoyed when it’s piping hot (much to the point of burning your lips upon first sips) you prefer to have a lukewarm tea and therefore, a lighter start to your mornings.
you feel a slight nudge on your leg, drawing your attention beneath the table and at the small critter cuddling up around your feet, purring softly.
smiling, you reach down, brushing down its fur in gentle caresses, “good morning man chai.”
“gah…that’s the third time that little rascal beats me to give you the morning greetings.”
several steps away, you see gaming who appears slightly short of breath. taking a moment to steady his breathing, he eventually makes his way over to you, wasting no time to engulf you in a loving hug, resting his head above yours.
“and good morning to you gaming.” you laugh, rubbing his arms that remained wrapped around your neck, consciously leaning back into his embrace.
“oooh is that sunglo tea i smell and…” he takes a sniff at the air once more and his face instantly brightens up as he looks down at you with expectant eyes. “steamed dumplings?”
you nod. “yup! steamed dumplings made especially for you.”
a wave of happiness now surging through him, gaming gives you another tight hug before taking a seat in the stone chair beside you, fully prepared to stomach as much as he can for today’s breakfast.
the critter from before slowly begins to peek its head out from under the table, particularly eyeing the fresh batch of dumplings in gaming’s hands.
“no way man chai!” gaming quickly snatches away the basket of steamed dumplings away from man chai’s prying paws, “first you steal my morning greetings and now you want to steal my dumplings. well not this time, buddy.”
another small chorus of laughter sounds from you. “c’mon gaming, don’t you think you’re being a little too unfair with him?”
“unfair? if anything he’s the one that’s been unfair for the last three days!” gaming argues, much like a child bickering with his siblings, “maybe now he’ll think about his actions.”
though you know he’ll never admit it, you can’t help but find it adorable at how he constantly vies for your full undivided attention in small but subtle ways.
for starters, gaming has made it his sole mission to be the first person to greet you a good morning at the start of every day before he heads to yilong wharf for work. something that naturally became routine.
apart from that, he absolutely loves returning home to talk with you about any and all he’s heard or experienced on the road for that particular day. or when he’s prepared a new performance for his hobby of wushou dancing, he wants you to be one of the first ones to see it and hear your instant feedback or high praises—more so the latter.
you on the other hand, always find his cheerful demeanor and glint of excitement that appears in his eyes each time he talks to be quite endearing. and while for the most part, gaming is usually the one talking the most between you two, you’re more than content with just listening to his musings.
seeing a disheartened man chai, you give the small creature a reassuring pat on the head, offering him a piece of food from your own plate.
“there! a fed man chai is a happy man chai!” you cheer, watching him happily eat away at the food as gaming sighs with a small frown.
now in an attempt to appease an envious gaming, you slowly lean over and plant a small unexpected kiss on his cheek that catches him off guard.
“happy now too?” you ask with a soft smile.
all he could conjure up in that moment was but a small nod. however, seeing the way his cheeks slightly reddened and the way his eyes struggled to meet yours was enough to tell you he was more than satisfied with your actions.
as if sensing his pet’s antics from a mile away, gaming instantly moves to shield you, having no desire to share any more of your attention with anyone else.
“don’t even think about it man chai!”
sigh, what ever shall you do with him.
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end note: im on a streak rn of doing these late night writing sessions fr…and it’s lowkey not okay for my already sleep deprived self. BUT TBF i wanted to post something for valentines day which is now today even if it’s not entirely related to the holiday itself. i for one took this opportunity to write a little something for my son gaming :3
i absolutely LOVE his character and his story that played out during the lantern rite because as someone who had almost the exact same experience…that hit close to home. hopefully his character here isn’t too ooc and if it is well…sue me /j
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buggybambi · 4 months
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lost in translation | carmen berzatto
you get a job working as a waitress at the bear. if only you knew it would get you here. ─ 3.68k ─ angst and fluff, breakups / fighting, some cursing, reader is younger then carmy.
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THE STRANGERS PHASE
The first time you and Carmen met was when Nat and Richie had hired you as part of the Bear staff. 
A waitress, and a sweet looking one at that. Younger than him. "You guys finally settled on a candidate?" Carmen asks as Natalie and Richie watch you from the small window in the kitchen.
You sit there for a moment before adjusting the silverware, passing Richie's test almost immediately. "I believe we just did." Nat confirms. Carmen takes a look for himself and swears his heart skips a beat as he watches you for a brief moment before clearing his throat, having to pull himself away. "Okay. Cool." He brushes it off.
He didn't get the chance to meet you right away, not until the night before their soft opening. You'd been through training, getting used to the system at the Bear and getting accompanied with staff. All but one. The head chef and owner, 'Carmy' as everyone called him.
"Hey, you're the new hire, right?" A voice asks as you shut your locker. You jump a bit, as you turn, smiling. "I am." The male nods, holding out his hand. "Sorry about scaring you. I'm Carmen Berzatto, don't think we've had the chance to meet." He introduces.
You accept the handshake, swearing you feel a little spark between you two just from touching him.
───
From there, it was like clockwork. You and him would get stuck closing together, and each night you'd dive into a new part of his past. "So, what made you wanna open this place?" You question. He exhales, momentarily pausing his movements of scrubbing the counters before he sniffles. "My brother left it to me after his death."
You pause, staring at him. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked-" He laughs. "You couldn't have known. It's okay, really. I actually wanted to work here, or what used to be here, for the longest time by his side but he didn't let me. Never knew why. It was the thing he left me in his will." He gives a more in depth answer.
You nod slowly. "I'm sorry about that, Carm. His death and not letting you work here." You specify as you look at him. "If it's any comfort, I think your brother would be really proud of what you've turned this place into." You say.
He nods, sniffling again. You set your rag back in the soapy water, sighing as you mark off your final station to clean on the clipboard.
"See you tomorrow night?" He asks as you begin walking to the lockers.
You smile. "It's a date, chef." You confirm. He blushes at the idea of you and him being on a date.
───
Carmen swore to himself he'd take you on an actual date. The planning was easy, it was actually asking you that he found to be a challenge.
"So, are you seeing anyone?" He asks, trying to sound as casual as he can the next night when you two are closing, which didn't come for almost a week. Though he was grateful, it also felt like torture having to wait to get you alone.
"No, I'm not actually. Chicago hasn't exactly been my Paris, you know? City of love and all that bullshit." You answer as you stare at the chore list for that night. "Check the mayonnaise labels. Does Nat think our mayo is expired?" You question.
“Nat thinks all of our stuff is expired one way or another. It doesn’t expire ‘till the nineteenth of May.” He grabs out a knife to start chopping the vegetables. “Anyway, Chicago isn’t really known for its romance.” He points out.
"So I've been told." You stare at the menu. "What's a vegetable medley?" You question as you look back up at him, catching him staring at you. He clears his throat and quickly sets the knife down, wiping his hands on a towel. "Uh, it's a bunch of veggies like green and yellow bell peppers, asparagus and squash topped with balsamic vinegar.” He answers.
You nod slowly. “Only you can explain something like that and make it sound so good right now, Carm.” "Did you eat today?" He doesn't hesitate to ask. "Haven't had a chance to. Richie had me running around all day with the new system, but don't worry, I'm gonna make myself something at home."
"No, come on. I'm- You're not driving home hungry like that. It’s a safety risk. Sit." You go to protest before he repeats himself. "Sit."
The entire night was spent with you and Carmen eating his way too fancy dishes and talking. Sharing memories - childhoods, dreams, stories.
He likes to consider it your first date.
You like to consider it the night you fell in love.
───
You weren't sure what you and Carmen were after that night in the kitchen. Or how to even ask. Do you just come right out and say it? Is there a specific way or time to ask? Google provided zero help, so it was up to you to solve this one.
Maybe that’s what was driving you and Carmy apart for the next week: your mind trying to run through how to even approach that with him. It wasn't until he ambushed you at your locker that you were forced to approach the topic with him. "Not talking to you all week has been driving me insane. Are we okay? If dinner was too much.." He lets his voice trail off.
You smile, as you exhale. "Carmen, I loved dinner. I was just unsure of where we stood. Thought I was driving myself crazy trying to figure out if that was a date or not." You admit. He stares at you, nodding slowly. "Let me take you out to an actual dinner. A real date night." He requests.
You nod. "Okay, I'd like that." You barely have another chance to speak before Richie's calling your name. You place a hand on Carmen's shoulder as you pass him, giving him a small smile before you rush to find out what Richie needs you for.
Carmen watches you leave, wishing you'd come back to him.
Carmen had thought of your date night perfectly. A romantic, rooftop dinner overlooking Chicago’s nighttime streets. “You bring all the girls up to your rooftop, Berzatto?” You question as you stare at the cars passing by.
“Only the special ones.” He’d answer with a grin.
You wished he kissed you that night, but he didn’t. Instead he settled for dropping you off at your apartment before leaving. You could tell he wanted to kiss you, too, but he wanted to wait.
"So, you and Carmen?" Sydney asks as you help her open the Bear that morning, cutting vegetables up with her. You sigh, a smile on your face regardless. "How'd you hear about that?" You question in return.
“It’s the Bear. There’s no such thing called secrets when you work here. Everyone knows everything about everyone. Now, you and Carmy?” She asks again as you laugh. “There’s nothing going on between us. He and I got dinner a few times, but I don’t think it’s going anywhere.” You say with a shrug.
She stares at you, noticing the blush in your cheeks. You grin. “Don’t even. Nothing has happened between us.” You reiterate. She laughs, grabbing her bucket of vegetables. "Whatever you say!"
You roll your eyes, turning and staring at Carmen in the doorway. There he goes again, staring at you when you aren't looking. It doesn't slide past you that he has a noticeable sparkle in his eyes.
───
Of course the universe would have it out for you and Carmen to close together that night. As you two stand over the counters, cleaning them down, you decide to ask the question that had been plaguing your mind.
"What are you and I?" You ask, looking up at him for the first time. His scrubbing stops, as he looks back at you. "I want us to be together." He answers honestly, and you're a bit taken back by his honesty.
“You seem like you’ve thought about this.”
“More than you know.” Translation: I’ve thought about you.
You nod slowly as you walk over to the sink, beginning to wash your hands. "I want us to be together, too. I just don't want this to be weird between us because we work together, you know." You voice your concerns as you grab the towel, drying your hands.
You turn, finding him standing behind you. "I don't care if we want us to be together. I want us to give.. us.. a chance." He says, taking your hand in his. You stare at your hands interlocked as you hum. "Carmen."
"Yes?" He asks softly.
"If you don't kiss me right now I might just walk out and not come back." You tease.
He doesn't have to be told twice, and he kisses you like he's been thinking about it. Like he's been needing that. Hands cupping your face, yours finding his waist.
You didn't need much of an answer as to what you and Carmen were after that.
THE LOVERS PHASE
You and Carmen had agreed: the staff didn’t need to know you two were officially dating. If it was important enough to share, sure. But other then that, you two wouldn’t go around publicly announcing it.
Turns out, dating Carmen wasn't much different from being friends with him. Except now you were in the kitchen at two in the morning, slow dancing with him.
It'd started with dinner that night. Him holding you from behind,
Frank Sinatra plays lowly on the radio as he spins you around, with you grinning as you sway with him. “Who taught you to dance, Berzatto?” You question.
“Nat did. Taught me for her wedding. Said if I looked like a fish outta water she’d ban me from the reception.” He answers with a lovesick grin. You laugh, throwing your head back. “Sounds like Nat.”
He smirks. “And who taught you?” He asks in return. You hum as he pulls you closer to his chest, as Sinatra’s ‘The Girl from Ipanema’ plays. “I did. Convinced myself when I was a little girl I'd be like Misty Copeland.” You answer.
He grins. Only two weeks had gone by with him being officially yours, and he was falling in love with you. Maybe that’s why it spilled out as he held you close.
“I love you.” His voice is hushed.
You pulled away only a bit to look at his eyes. Maybe searching to see if they were genuine, if he said what you think he did. "Carmen..." You smile, a laugh coming out. "I love you, too." You repeat it back to him.
"Take the too out. Makes it sound like you're just agreeing." He requests softly, lips brushing barely against yours. You giggle at his plea, but comply anyway. "Carmen, I love you." You say it again, this time it feels more real.
Two weeks in, and you two are in love. If you knew any better, you'd assume you were screwed.
───
"What do you wanna do with your life?" The question startled you as you and Carmen sat on the balcony of your apartment, overlooking downtown Chicago. Buildings illuminating the night sky, car horns blaring every few minutes from the nighttime traffic.
"I wanna open a bar. Maybe go to Los Angeles or New York, just open my own place. You know?" You hold your knees up on the patio chair with you, a cup of tea in hand. "Some dive bar but... fancier. Live music, live entertainment."
He nods slowly, grabbing out his notepad. "Get out of Chicago?" He asks. You laugh. "Pretty much. Don't get me wrong, I love this city. This just.. isn't the plan." You say with a shrug.
"Mm." He says, scribbling something down on the paper. You lean over, staring at it. "What are you drawing, Berzatto?" You question. "Nothin'. It's a surprise, if I show you it now it won't be a surprise." He points out.
You grin as you lean your head back. "Okay. What about you? Is the Bear your final dream?" You question, still looking over at him. He sets the pen down, looking over the skyline. "I don't know. Though until I met you I had all my dreams and goals figured out."
"Don't say it-"
"You're my new dream." He grins, looking over at you. You laugh, rolling your eyes. "That was unbelievably cheesy, Berzatto. I don't know if I can ever look at you the same after that." You tease.
"You don't have to look at me to kiss me." He points out as you roll your eyes, standing up. You give him a quick peck as you open the door, stepping halfway inside. "Don't take too long getting to bed, okay? It's cold out here." You comment.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." He waits until you're fully inside to pull back out the notepad. Sketched on is a logo for a bar, your bar. Your name written in what he imagines is neon lights. 'ANGEL'S BAR'. The way he views you, an angel. His angel.
He hums, standing up and making his way inside, the notepad tucked under his arm. He finds you in the living room, sorting through the mail. “Hey, hey, my old college roommate’s getting married. New York. What a terrifying city.” You laugh as you set the invite down, before his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you down to the bedroom. 
───
Carmen had spent so much time in your apartment that it practically felt like his own. So, the idea of asking him to move in wasn’t totally crazy. His clothes were now hung up in your closet, his cologne and cedarwood soap lingered.
Your relationship with Carmen had grown, so much so that you were now spending time with his family. You stood in the kitchen of the Berzatto home. Your first family dinner with them, and it had been more drama filled then a soap opera. Soft music filled the room, cinnamon roll scented candles lit making the house smell like a bakery. Your scarf hung on the staircase banister. 
"First official Berzatto dinner. How ya holdin’ up?" Sugar asks as she slides beside you, handing you a glass of wine to match her own. "Oh you know me so well. It's going.. as good as I expected it to be. Are they always this chaotic?" You question.
"Hell yes. The Berzatto family has never been calm, y'know?" She laughs. "But you seem to be fitting in nicely. And this is the first year of us doing one of these that Carmen truly seems happy, I think you're to thank for that."
You grin. "Well, as long as he's smiling." You and her watch him in the living room, chasing down the younger family members, laughing as they tackle him down to the floor.
"Yeah, well, I've seen Carmen with other girls before, and none of them have made him this happy. So, on behalf of the Berzatto family, thanks for bringing us a smiling Carmy." She raises her glass to you as you laugh, lifting yours as well.
Carmen watches as you clink glasses with Nat as he enters the kitchen. "You two doing good in here?" He asks. "Oh, we are doing wonderful. I should go find my husband." Nat says, smiling and walking out of the kitchen.
You sigh, setting your wine glass down behind you on the counter. "Hi." He greets, arms wrapped around your waist. You hum, wrapping yours around his neck. "Hey you." You reply, pressing your lips against his.
“I’m really glad you’re here.” He says quietly after he pulls away, placing his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.
You smile, placing a hand on his cheek. “I’m glad too, Carm.”
───
Arguments in relationships are common. They’re healthy, they bring growth. You and Carmen had a fair share of disagreements but never ones where he called you the name he did tonight: clingy. 
“Can you just fucking leave me be for a second?! I don’t need you crowding me and being so- so fucking clingy.” Right in the office of the Bear, as you made sure he understood what was happening with Syd’s plans. 
Now here you were, in Nat’s living room. “He probably didn’t mean it, you know?” She asks softly as she pushes some of your hair out of your face, wiping tears that fall down your cheeks. “I think he’s just been so worried about our mom, her issues and the Bear.”
“What if he did mean it though? What if.. What if he was just with me out of convenience or pity?” You voice your worries. She shakes her head. “I have never seen Carmy as happy anywhere else as he is with you. He loves you, Y/n. He wants to be with you, no one else.” She replies.
“You don’t call the people you love clingy.” You point out. She sighs, letting you lay your head on her shoulder. No matter what she said, nothing changed how you felt. Carmen thought you were clingy. Whether subconsciously or not, he thought it. 
The thought made your heart ache. 
───
You were younger than Carmen, you knew that much from the moment you met him. But it had never been an issue in your relationship, until now it seems. A simple, offhand comment about kids and marriage you had made to Syd. You wanted those things, and you wanted them with Carmy. 
That’s what landed you in this position on a cold night, with him sitting on the armchair in front of you and you on the floor, crouched to try and read his eyes. Find any sign that you could get past this. 
“We’re just on different paths. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get this close to you. And I should have stopped myself before I hurt you.” Translation: you’re still young and I can’t hold you back.
He didn’t stay after that. His clothes still hung in your closet, with you on the floor of the living room. 
Translation: what now? 
THE ENEMIES STAGE 
“So, plans for you being in New York?” Diane asks as you and her sit on the rooftop of her apartment building. You sigh, as you lean back on your chair. “Drink a lot. Forget my relationship problems in Chicago and hope for the best.” You answer with a nod.
She rolls her eyes. “Come on. You can’t expect to fix your relationship in different states without talking.” She points out as you look over at her. “When did I hire you as a relationship therapist?” You tease. “Carm and I will be fine.” 
You couldn’t find the translation anymore for what “fine” meant. 
───
The wedding was gorgeous. Diane looked stunning and her husband was the sweetest man. The sun was setting over Manhattan, as you sat at the open bar perched on the rooftop. Staring at the missed call from a familiar contact: ‘Chef’s Kiss’. Carmy. 
Maybe you had asked him for too much. Wanting kids, marriage. He’d give them to you if you asked, you knew that. But the idea of him just putting up with that just to keep you? 
You didn’t return his call or any of his texts. Instead, you kept quiet until you returned to Chicago a week later. A box perched on your apartment doorstep with your belongings. Jewelry, shirts you left at his place. All of them except for the scarf that still sat on Donna’s staircase banister.
Maybe he kept it because it smells like you. Or because it reminded him of something pure. The one thing he really knew was now gone, and the scarf was a fragment of that. 
───
It didn’t shock any of the staff at the Bear when you turned in your notice and stopped working there. Or when you took the couch you and Carmy used to sit on during late night conversations and moved it eleven hours with you to New York. Along with his hoodies, the one you wanted to keep most because it smelled like him still. 
You didn’t delete the videos or photos you had with him. It feels too real if you do. 
You stared at the kitchen. Where he used to hold you, scolding you for how you handled knives. The balcony, where he told you that you were his new dream. The living room where he’d kiss you like it was the first time. The bedroom, where some nights, he made you his own, and others he held you while you slept. 
The only thing you found in the apartment that was foreign to you? A piece of notepad paper, with “ANGEL’S BAR” drawn on the front. You stuck that in your pocket as you made your way to your car. 
It hurts to look at. It hurts to think about him. 
Now it’s just you, in your hundred square foot apartment that you share with a roommate now. You manage to delete the playlist of songs that he loved swaying with you to in early mornings in kitchen lights. You learn his favorite melody by heart: stranger, to lovers, to enemies.
─── 
Closing that chapter of your life, you focused more on opening Angel’s Bar. His logo on the front, in downtown New York. Soft piano playing as chatter fills the room, drinks being poured in the corners. 
It may have just been Carmen’s luck to find you on opening night, chatting around with the customers as he watched from the window, a familiar red scarf wrapped around his neck to help fight the cold air.
Translation: it reminds him of innocence. It reminds him of the better part of himself, the one you brought out in him.
Carmen learned to take lessons from break-ups pretty early on into his life. The one he got from you?
“Falling in love isn't for the weak. So don't try it at home.” He closes the book that he was given as an assignment for his AA class.
Maybe you were his favorite melody after all.
𓍢ִ໋🔪 ♡₊˚ 🧣・₊✧
shine on, shine on, my loves!
thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! check out my carmen berzatto masterlist here for more fanfics!
taglist ✨ (to be added please reply to this post in the comments!)
@wabi-sabi1090
@harrysmatcha
@kpopgirlbtssvt
@urdreamgirl12
@readingwithsass
@angelicflower2020
@wadupppp
- mae
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xplore-the-unknwn · 6 days
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The Core of the Planet of the Apes Franchise ft. Wes Ball (Director)
"Can Ape and Human live together? and I think what its really saying is Can two people who are different live together?"
Sci Fi’s purpose is always to question, test and challenge what we understand. And Planet of the Apes has always been a satire to the ego of humanity and their hunger for dominance. In a fictional world where Apes became the 'humans'/sentient intelligent species and men are likened to beasts. What kind of world will that look like? What kind of dynamic or relationships can that bring? and the Franchise has always been about asking that question.
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Now enter our new main characters. Wes said the focus of the new movies will center around Noa and Mae’s very unique dynamic. A girl and a sentient ape both different but both similar in doing what they can to protect their loved ones.
and there’s nothing wrong if you get curious with how their relationship will develop. Is that something heinous? to root for a dynamic that can greatly influence the fictional world they live in?
tbh thats what the film WANTS- Make you curious. ASK THE QUESTIONS IT WANTS ASKED.
Peak storytelling. All I see is a Director smartly pinning the tension between these two main characters to further hook us to seeing more of the next films they’re making. A masterclass in creative writing too. With that we can ask the questions- If apes were sentient like humans how will we treat them? Who do we root for knowing human nature tends to be destructive? IF we understand each other’s differences can we learn from each other and live side by side? Circling back to the question-
Can Ape and Human live together?
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And those questions will be answered through THEM- Noa and Mae.
Theres a-lot of importance in their dynamic and the future that they’ll bring with it. Will it be tragic or hopeful?
See, it intriguesss.
and thats Sci Fi’s purpose. That’s the Planet of The Ape’s message.
Also with the fandom ship or not ship yall just ENJOY this franchise and let its underlying messages speak to you. Thats what the filmmakers and actors behind this film would want too (I feel for them sm and see the passion to get this done and I just want to VOICE out that this beautiful movie and the characters they worked hard on are greatly appreciated)
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thespilledquotes · 18 days
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Happiness is pretty simple: someone to love, something to do, something to look forward to.
Rita Mae Brown
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cursedvida · 21 days
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Clean Sky || Noa x Mae
Authors note: just a little oneshoot of this couple bc they inspired me so much. Not warnings, just Noa having a meltdown. English isn't my first language so i'm sorry in advance lol.
Humans were nothing more than echoes of a world that existed far from his own, outside the comfort of his village, and they had never sparked even the slightest curiosity in him. He knew they were wild, irrational beings, sometimes stealing ape's food if they weren't careful enough. Scavengers like any other animals, nothing out of the ordinary. Noa had never seen one in person, but he hadn't had any particular interest in doing so either.
Ironically, now he can't stop thinking about them.
Specifically, about her.
He often wonders what became of the human girl. Echo, Nova, Mae. As many names as faces, as many facets as secrets she holds. During the arduous mornings of work trying to rebuild the village, the young ape finds himself surprised more times than he'd like, thinking about how that skinny-legged, weak-armed human must be wandering alone in such a hostile world. Humans are quick and agile, but also fragile and delicate. During their time traveling together, Noa often felt that, if he wanted to, he could easily break her in two. If he had embraced her with the same fervor with which he pounced on Soona or Anaya, he probably would have broken her a bone. But then he reminds himself that it makes no sense to consider such a thing, because he would never have embraced a human, nor would he do so now.
Days pass and life in the village returns to normalcy, the routines that once brought him joy now become monotonous and bland, as if something inside him tells him that this is not where he should be. There is something within him, an inexplicable urge that pushes him to go beyond what he has always known. Perhaps it's because he hasn't completely shaken off the anxious anguish he felt watching his entire clan disappear, or it may be because of the infinite enormity of the world beyond the walls of his home he experienced during his travel. But at some moments, he realizes that maybe it's all because of the stars that, every night, remind him of the universe he saw through that human machine and that Mae seemed to long for as much as he did.
On clear nights, Noa can't help but wonder if the human is seeing the same sky as him, if the stars shining so brightly from his village are the same ones she can see. He never got to know much about her, and the little she wanted to reveal was probably lies, but there was something in her eyes the last time they met, a certain melancholic sparkle that has stuck inside him like a huge thorn he's unable to remove. He doesn't quite understand why the image of the girl's moist eyes comes to mind every time he closes his eyes on nights illuminated by the headlights of the universe, but every time he recalls her face, he feels a current that urges him to run away from there as fast as possible, leaving him utterly terrified.
He had never been interested in leaving his village or living away from his clan. His mother, his friends and the people he grew up with mean everything to him, and yet suddenly he remembers that human hands are terribly similar to his own, only much smaller, with fingers so delicate they almost resemble brittle branches. He had touched Mae's hand a couple of times, unintentionally, feeling skin devoid of calluses or roughness, smooth and soft skin that made him wonder how it could resemble him so much and yet be so terribly different.
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thoughtkick · 5 months
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Happiness is pretty simple: someone to love, something to do, something to look forward to.
Rita Mae Brown
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asoftepiloguemylove · 2 months
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William Shakespeare // pinterest // Feel Good (2020-2021) cr. Joe Hampson & Mae Martin // Natalie Diaz These Hands, If Not Gods // Sandra Cisneros Woman at Hollering Creek: Stories; "Never Marry a Mexican" // Holland NUMBER BOY // Richard Siken Crush // 스물다섯 스물하나 Twenty-Five Twenty-One (2022) dir. Jung Ji-hyun // Sappho // Dodie She // Maureen Seaton Furious Cooking; "Swan Lake" // unknown // Frank Ocean Forrest Gump // แปลรักฉันด้วยใจเธอ I Told Sunset About You / I Promised You the Moon (2020-2022) dir. Naruebet Kuno & Tossaphon Riantong // Danez Smith Recklessly (via @tendermimi)
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Am I the only one who is super sensitive? Like i melt so easily it's embarrassing🫣 just touch my hips or waist, or look at my lips or whisper in my ear, move me to where you want me to be, touch me in any way shape or form, and I'll just go like😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
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saturnville · 4 months
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stolen moments, major john egan
pairing: major john "bucky" egan x black fem oc (amelia mae egan)
content: john manages to call amelia after not hearing her voice for weeks.
an: this was the top choice in the poll so far. I've been anxious to write so we knocked this off the list first lol. enjoy!
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“Are you alright, Major?” 
They’d just arrived at a new station. It smelled like sweat and fear. Men streamed throught the doors like a school of fish. Their deep voices shook the brick walls as their conversations bellowed throughout the building. Dozens of men struggled to keep their composure. He was one of them.
He was overwhelmed. Tired. Desparate. His clothes felt tight against his body. The scent of gasoline and fumes clung to his vest. His hat damp and chilled against his forehead. His shoes were coated in black soot.
John’s eyes caught the telephone in the corner of the station. It was secluded from the rest of the quarters, in a corner, protected by a frosted glass divider. John's shoes grazed the dirty floor as he strode purposefully towards the telephone.
“M’fine. Head in and get your rest. Long day in the morning.” He didn’t know how he was able to make out coherent sentences. Gale stepped in, noticing his friend’s disheveled state and guided the men to the resting quarters. 
John’s shoes kissed the dirty floor as he stood long strides to the telephone. He shrugged off his backpack and slid it by his feet. His hands trembled as he plucked the phone off the hook and typed in the number he had engraved in his heart. 
It rang. And rang. And rang. His heartbeat was in his ears. His nails scratched as the black paint around the phone as he succumbed to his anxiety. He sent a silent prayer to God above. 
Then he heard it. “Hello?” John’s forehead tapped the frosted glass as he rested against it. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. He’d never been particularly sensitive, but he was overwhelmed with emotion, good and bad, and hearing her sweet voice made his eyes well with tears. 
The words were stuck in his throat and all he could release was a heavy sigh. That seemed to be enough for her to identify the caller. “Johnny?” 
He shut his eyes. A lone tear fell from his eye. “Hey, Rosie.”
Amelia let out a soft cry. “Oh, thank God! I-I thought something happened to you; I hadn’t heard from you in weeks. Are you okay, where are you now? Is Gale alright, when are you coming…” His first instinct was to cut her rambling short, but the sound of her voice was the choir-like song his soul ached to hear. 
He’d gone three weeks without hearing her voice. It was the most tortuous three weeks of his life. For 21 days, he survived by remembering the last words she said before they hung up, Whatever you do, do not die on me, do you understand? I love you, John. I love you. I love you. I love you. It kept his heart beating.
A small smile tugged on his lips. “I’m okay, baby, I promise. Things got a little rough; didn’t stay in one place too long. I didn’t mean to scare you.”  
“I’m just happy to hear your voice…are you okay?” 
His stomach churned at her question. A feeling of despair threatened to creep upon him. Thirty men lost. A plane in the middle of the ocean. An uneasy stomach and even more uneasy mental state. His head pounded, his body shook with unwanted adrenaline, and his hands craved the feeling of her hot skin. He was not okay. 
“No,” he replied honestly, rubbing his eye with the stump of his palm. “I’m not okay but I will be. Especially because I get to talk to my favorite girl. Tell me about your day..”
He heard her heavy sigh. “Deflection won’t rid you of what you’re feeling.” 
“Talking about it won’t do too much good, either. It’s…it’s hard, Rose. I just.” John’s jaw clenched as he struggled to articulate what he felt. “I just can’t talk about it right now, Amelia. If I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together.” 
Silence stretched on, interrupted only by the sound of her shuffling on the other end. She was probably sitting at the edge of her bed. He imagined her, looking pretty in her long-sleeved pajamas and satin scarf, with a blanket tucked under her chin.
“Then how about this,” she started. “You make it home in one piece to tell me about it later, yeah?” 
“Always making demands,” John laughed. The first genuine sound of joy he’d made all day. And it made her smile. So wide that her cheeks were sore and her dimples made an appearance. “But you’ve got a deal.” He readied himself to speak again, but a tap on his shoulder interrupted him. 
Gale. Meeting with the CO in five minutes, he mouthed. John nodded. He ran a hand through his dirty hair. “Darlin’, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes; I’m sorry.  If I don’t call in the morning, know I love you, alright?” 
“I know. I love you, too. Don’t apologize. Just make it back to me.”
“Always.”
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-AGNOSTHESIA Featuring Scaramouche
Part 2 Part 3
Meaning: The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behaviour, as if you were some other person
Word Count: 3.5k~
Description: A study session with Scaramouche gets spicy
Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach
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“Are you deaf or just stupid? I’ve been explaining this to you for over an hour. How do you not understand?!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! This class is just really hard, and I haven’t really been able to understand anything from the last few lectures. It's all just gotten so complicated.”
“Isn’t this supposed to be your major? Why did you pick something challenging if you’re too stupid to understand any of it?”
“I’m not too stupid! It’s just a challenging class!”
“Why did you beg me to tutor you if you were just going to waste my time?”
You didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t wrong, nearly every study session the two of you have had ended with an incredibly frustrated Scaramouche and an equally confused you. It’s not that you weren’t trying. You paid attention the best that you could in lectures, and you did all the readings. You even used up most of your free time studying! But regardless, you were still hopeless.
Of course, having Scaramouche as a tutor was supposed to make things easier; he was at the top of the class, after all. However, it almost made things more difficult, given the fact that during your study sessions you were constantly getting distracted by how pretty the man was and how close the two of you were to your bed. You probably enjoyed the insults he threw at you due to your lack of understanding just a bit too much too. But no way would you ever admit to that.
~♡~
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. It was 1:45pm. Your class started at 1:00pm. This was not good. You burst through the doors, immediately drawing everyone's attention and making your professor stop mid sentence. You were mortified. On this particular occasion, you had spent all night studying before dragging yourself to your school's library to continue studying. You had planned to spend your morning studying before your lecture at 1:00pm. You had not planned to fall asleep until 1:25pm and have to run to a whole other building to get to your lecture. You had been spending all your time trying to keep up with your peers in your astrobiology course, but it appears that plan had backfired, as you had already missed half of your class and would need to beg someone for their notes, perhaps an explanation as well. You looked around for a seat, quickly realizing that the only easily accessible spot was near the back next to Scaramouche. Fuck. Scaramouche was the best student in the class, but he was also notoriously unapproachable and impossible to work with. You had been stuck doing a group project with him before, and he had been a controlling nightmare. Ever since then though, he had occasionally spoken to you if you came close enough to insult. You took a deep breath, swallowed your fear, and started up the stairs. The class had continued on in the moments since your interruption, so you didn’t expect Scaramouche to be staring directly at you when you glanced at him on your way to your spot beside him. You looked away and got to your seat as quickly as you could.
“Well, if it isn’t the smartest girl in class.”
You fought the urge to insult him back, but you knew that if you wanted to get any help from him, you couldn’t risk giving him a reason not to help you. You gave him the nicest smile you could muster; he rolled his eyes at your attempt to be nice. You sat down next to him and set up your computer to take notes for the rest of class. After another half hour had passed and you were hopelessly confused, you turned to Scaramouche to ask him for some help.
“Hey, uh, I’m pretty lost; do you think you could give me the notes you took for the first half of the class?”
“Do you really think that’ll help you? It’s not like you even understand the lectures you don’t miss.”
“I understand them!”
“Yeah, sure.”
He turned his attention back to the professor. That’s when you had an idea that might actually work.
“Hey, do you have any spare time that you could maybe use to help me with the work from this class?"
“Do you really think that I would willingly spend my free time tutoring you? Why on earth would I do that?”
You took a deep breath, silently praying that this would work.
“If you agree to tutor me, I’ll give you Kazuha’s number.”
“You’ll what?”
Yes! He was interested.
“I’ll give you Kazuha’s number, and I’ll put in a good word for you with him.”
“Kazuha? As in Kaedehara? Are you serious?”
He was just staring at you, looking very serious. Clearly, this was important to him.
“Yes, I promise.”
Scaramouche chuckled to himself a little before sighing.
“Okay. Text me where your dorm is. I’ll tutor you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays.”
“I uh…don’t have your number.”
“You don’t? I have yours.”
“Yeah that’s because I gave it to you. Just text me and I’ll send you my building and room number, okay?”
“Fine.”
You sighed. Why did he have to be gay?
A few moments later, you got a text that said, “Hey loser”. You sent him your dorm information and a list of what times on those days you were free. And just like that, you had a tutor.
When you eventually talked to Kazuha about Scaramouche and how you had given him his number, Kazuha seemed confused, but after an oddly long stare behind you and a glance at his phone, he seemed to understand what you were trying to tell him.
~♡~
“Are you really this stupid? Or do you just like it when I insult you?”
“I’m not stupid! And don’t pretend like you aren’t getting anything out of this!”
“Right, I get to have you meddling in my love life. How could I forget?”
“You agreed to this! I didn’t make you do anything!”
“No, you just gave me an opportunity to spend time with the person I have feelings for, but only if I spend all my free time trying to teach an idiot her major.”
“I’m not an idiot! Stop saying that!”
“You can’t expect me to sit here and watch you screw things up I didn’t think anyone could possibly screw up and not insult you. You’re practically begging for it.”
You huffed a frustrated sigh and went back to your work while your tutor sat there on his phone. How was all of this so easy for him when you could barely understand any of it? You were working so hard but had nothing to show for it except for low grades and a tutor who is the furthest thing from being into you, who also somehow kept getting you all worked up and needy. Part of you wanted to just tell him to stop coming over so you could get through a study session without getting sexually frustrated. However, you also didn’t want to stop spending time with him…because, uh, because Scaramouche was helping you improve! Not for any other reason. Oh nevermind, who were you trying to fool? You definitely had feelings for him, even though you knew they would never be reciprocated. It wasn’t long before you reached another question that stumped you.
“I’m confused.”
“What else is new?”
“Shut up. Can you help me?”
He stared at you and raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for something. You sighed.
“Please?”
“What’s the question?”
“What is a carbonaceous chondrite?”
“Have you been paying any attention in class? At all?”
“I-”
Scaramouche cut you off.
“Even if you aren’t paying attention in class, you have my notes, and you’ve been asking me endless questions. Wait, I forgot. You’re just an idiot.”
“I’m not an-!”
Once again, he cut you off.
“No, you are. At this point, I’m not even trying to insult you. It’s just a fact.”
“Why?! What did I do that was so dumb?!”
“Do you really want to know?”
“...Yes?”
“Do you remember how you convinced me to be your tutor? Of course you do. You gave me Kazuha’s number. Do you want to know why he was so confused when you told him that? Because I’ve known him since I was a kid; we’re best friends. He only went along with it because I had followed you and was a ways behind you trying to get him to check his messages because I had to send him a text explaining that the girl I have feelings for thinks I’m gay and in love with him, and since he knows how dumb you are, he went along with it for my sake. I honestly thought that you would have figured it out by how nice I’ve been to you ever since we did that project together.”
You couldn’t believe it. Scaramouche has a crush on you, maybe even for as long as you’d had a crush on him. And oh my god you were stupid; he was best friends with Kazuha? How had you missed that?! Oh god, that means Kazuha knew you were stupid too…how did you even make such a big mistake?
“You…like me…? And you’re best friends with Kazuha…? What do you mean you’ve been nice to me ever since our project? You insult me all the time! Even before you started tutoring me, you were mean to me!”
“I talked to you. As far as I’m concerned, that’s nice enough. Anyway, I guess I should be going now huh?”
“Wait uh, you don’t have to go.”
“Oh? Maybe you do like it when I insult you, hm?”
“That isn’t important. I just need you to stay because you promised to tutor me, and I still need help.”
That gave Scaramouche an idea.
“Huh, maybe you just need better motivation to learn…”
He smirked at you before standing up from his spot on your bed and closing the little distance there was from where he had been sitting and where you were seated at your desk. He turned your spinny chair to face him and leaned down so his face was in front of yours and flicked your forehead.
“Hey, dummy, want me to fuck you?”
He laughed quietly at your slack jawed reaction. He stood back to his full height and sat back down on your bed. He gestured for you to come sit on his lap. You stared at him blankly, confident that you had misinterpreted his action.
“Come on now. You’re not really this stupid, are you?”
That was enough confirmation for you. You stood up from your chair and were about to sit down on his lap when he stopped you.
“Take off your clothes.”
He didn’t exactly leave any room for argument, so, as embarrassed as you were, you started taking off your clothes while Scaramouche watched you. You got down to your underwear and stopped, unsure if he wanted you to continue.
“Go on.”
Okay then. You took off your bra and your underwear, now feeling awkward with your tutor sitting in front of you fully clothed. He motioned you forward again and you sat down on his lap. He moved a hand between your legs and ran a finger down your slit before laughing.
“You’re so wet already, I guess you liked those insults more than you let on.”
His comment somehow turned your face redder than it already was. You would have made some kind of argument, however, you suddenly became preoccupied with the feeling of him pushing two of his fingers inside of you and fucking you with them. You couldn’t help but let out a few moans at the feeling. He snickered at the sounds you were making, even going so far as to mock the sound of your moans.
“‘Mmf ah oh fuck mmm haah,’ you sound so pathetic.”
You tried to quiet the sounds you were making, but that only made him more upset.
“Don’t stop. I like hearing you whining like a bitch in heat.”
He pulled his fingers out of you then pushed them past your lips and into your mouth. While you cleaned off his fingers like a good little slut, he used his other hand to undo his pants and pull out his cock. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and lined you up over his cock before bringing you down onto it. You heard him suck in a breath and let out a chuckle.
“Hah, shit, you feel good.”
You could only let out a whine in response. He bottomed out inside of you. After you took a few moments to adjust, you tried to lift yourself up, but found you couldn’t move an inch with the tight grip your tutor had on your hips.
“Wha…?”
“You said that you needed me to stay to tutor you, so, I’m here to tutor you.”
Was he seriously going to try to tutor you while he had you sitting on his cock? No, this couldn’t actually be happening.
“But…but I can’t…”
“You will. I’m just giving you some extra motivation.”
He smirked at you once again.
“What role do supernovae play in the origin, evolution, and development of life?”
You couldn’t think. You were far too preoccupied with the feeling of his cock deep inside of you.
“I don’t… I don’t know, I can’t…”
“Come on, you answered this correctly last week.”
Had you? Part of you thought he was lying to you just to make you feel stupider.
“I don’t know it…”
Your response came out as a whine.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure!”
One of his hands moved away from your waist. For a moment you wondered what he was doing, but then you felt a hard slap come down on your ass.
“Ahh! What…? Why did you?”
“You need some consequence for your stupidity.”
You tried to clear your head for the next question.
“Why is it more likely that we will find prokaryotes rather than eukaryotes when we finally explore Europa, Enceladus, or Mars?”
“I don’t know Scara-”
Suddenly you felt a sharp pain in your cheek. Did he slap you?
“I don’t want my name in the mouth of a worthless slut like you.”
He paused for a second.
“Did you just get tighter? You really are slut.”
You blushed and looked away from him. You didn’t want to admit it, but you really were enjoying yourself. However, the fact that your tutor still wasn’t fucking you was driving you insane. You prayed that soon enough he would get bored tormenting you and finally fuck you.
“Instead of calling me by my name, why don’t you just call me master, hmm?”
“Okay…”
“Okay what?”
“Okay master…”
“Aw, so the slut can be good! Well, since you’re so stupid, I’ll give you an easy question next. What substances are emitted from cryovolcanoes?”
Oh thank god, you actually knew this one.
“Water, ice, ammonia, nitrogen, and methane…right?”
He just watched you for a moment with a little smile while doubt started to build in your mind.
“That’s correct. But it really was such an easy question, maybe I should continue teaching you…”
“Please Sca- master…”
“Oh? What are you asking for?”
“I want you to fuck me…please…”
He watched you for a few moments, contemplating his decision.
“Beg.”
“What?”
“Beg, and I’ll fuck you. I won’t ask again.”
There was no way you were going to beg Scaramouche to fuck you. That would be humiliating. But if it would get him to fuck you…no. You weren’t that desperate for him, were you? However, all of your reasoning flew out the window when Scaramouche lifted you up his cock and dropped you back down.
“Fuck please master, fuck me, I need it so bad, need to feel you wreck me, want you to use me however you want, please!”
“However I want, hmm?”
Before you could reply, he had lifted you off of his cock and moved you so you were on your hands and knees. He got up from his spot and knelt behind you.
“But master I wanna- mmf!”
Your tutor pushed your head into the pillows.
“Stupid little sluts don’t get to touch me or watch me fuck them.”
With that, he pushed his cock back into you. God, why did he feel so big? He’s short, so why does it feel like he’s in your fucking throat from this angle?
“And arch your fucking back, whore.”
You did as he asked, and all you got in response was him letting out a little laugh. He started fucking you slow but deep, and you couldn’t help the moans that were escaping your lips, but thankfully, they were muffled by the pillows, so he could barely hear them. Fuck, this felt so good. The fact that he tortured you before getting here didn’t even matter anymore, as long as he could make you feel like this.
Before too long, you could feel an orgasm approaching, and though you tried to let him know, the pillows obstructing your mouth caused your warning to come out as, “mhmhfm hm hmhm hmm!” and your tutor continued to ignore you. Eventually however, you felt yourself start to tip over the edge. You really did try to tell Scaramouche, but he just wouldn’t listen. He was far too wrapped up in the feeling of fucking you. When you finally tipped over the edge, Scaramouche stopped moving entirely, effectively giving you a very shitty orgasm. He grabbed your hair and hauled you up to him so he could talk to you without pillows getting in the way.
“Did you just fucking cum without asking, princess?”
His voice was sickeningly sweet, and you were terrified of what would come next. He twisted the hair he had grabbed making you cry out.
“Hmmm how should I punish you? Dumb sluts like getting spanked, don’t they?”
You shook your head the best you could with how he had your hair.
“Aw, of course they do.”
He pushed your face back into the pillows and let go of your hair. There was a moment of silence as you waited for what would come next. You felt a sharp pain as his hand came down on your ass. Was he this strong before? You were confident that there would be a red handprint on your ass now. He landed another smack, causing you to emit a little yelp. He continued your punishment until you were shaking and crying. Finally, he decided he was done and wrapped a hand around your throat before once again hauling you upright. He moved his lips next to your ear.
“Don’t try to act like you didn’t like that. I could feel how tight you were.”
You blushed, but before you could respond to him, he started fucking you again, this time hard and fast. Fuck, how did he feel even deeper in you now? He reached a hand around to play with your clit. Fuck, were you going to cum a second time?
“Can I cum? Please, need to so bad.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”
Instead of stopping like you had expected, he kept fucking you, and within a few seconds, he had you seeing stars. He kept going this time, fucking you through your orgasm. However, he didn’t stop when you were done. He kept going, looking to reach his own end.
“Do you want master to fill you up with his cum? Hmm? Is that what you want?”
“Fuck, yes please, please!”
Scaramouche leaned in to whisper in your ear.
“No.”
“What?”
Suddenly, he let go of you before pushing you back down and flipping you over before finishing on your stomach. Fuck, you were glad you got to see that at least.
“Worthless little whores don’t deserve to be filled with my cum.”
After he said that, some switch seemed to flip in his brain, and he got up to go search for a cloth to clean you up with. He returned and sat next to you on the bed, wiping the cum off of your stomach.
“Are you okay…?”
You were amazed. He looked like a concerned puppy. Was this really the same guy that was telling you how worthless you were a second ago?
“Uh, yeah, I’m alright.”
You stared back at him. But after your confirmation, he seemed to go back to his usual self.
“So uh, does this mean anything…?”
“What?”
“I understand if it doesn’t. It’s okay, I get it. I was just-”
He flicked your forehead.
“Did u miss the part where I told you I have feelings for you? Why would this mean nothing? God, you really are stupid.”
Yep, definitely back to his usual self.
“Wait, so does that mean you wanna like, date?”
He let out a big sigh.
“I suppose I’m willing to have an idiot for a girlfriend.”
“Fine, then I’m willing to have an asshole for a boyfriend!”
He rolled his eyes at you and let out a little laugh before laying down in bed next to you. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you had your head resting on Scaramouche’s chest, and before too long, you had fallen asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.
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morbific-or-felicific.
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thehopefulquotes · 3 months
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Happiness is pretty simple: someone to love, something to do, something to look forward to.
Rita Mae Brown
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perfectfeelings · 3 months
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All you can do in life is to be who you are. Some people will love you for you. Most will love you for what you can do for them, and some won’t like you at all.
Rita Mae Brown
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buggybambi · 4 months
Text
gallagher next door | lip gallagher
lip learns an interesting fact about you and has to change it. ─ 1.43k ─ nsfw content, minors dni! (fem/afab!reader, 'angel', 'honey', other pet names used, oral - f recieving, unwrapped p in v, fingering, friends to lovers, no use of y/n)
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Lip Gallagher’s throwing pebbles at your window, and it doesn't surprise you.
Lip had been your best friend for a few years now. He was the boy you went to for dating advice, you were the one he went to for his crazy family dramas and advice on what to do most of the time. You two were each other’s soulmate, as people joked.
Ever since you moved to Chicago nearly sixteen years ago and met Lip as the boy next door, you knew there was something unique about him. Something that drew you to him naturally.
He’d made a habit most recently of climbing into your window to talk. Late night thoughts, troubes. Anything and everything, all he had to do was throw small enough sized pebbles to get your attention and you’d sneak him in through the front door up to your bedroom.
Sure enough, it was happening again tonight. An oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts, you stuck your head out into the cold summer air. Finding Lip down below as you hum. “Whatcha doing, Gallagher?” You ask.
“Hey, there’s the prettiest girl. Do you look prettier then the last time I saw you?” He asks, head tilted up at you as your roll your eyes. “You saw me this morning, Lip.” You comment.
"Point stands, sweetness. You gonna make me stand here all night or do I get to come in?" He asks. You pause like you're contemplating it before you giggle, rushing downstairs and opening the front door. "Your parents home?" He questions as he hangs his coat up.
You shake your head. "Business conference." You answer as you walk upstairs with him. He plops himself down on your bed, grabbing one of your stuffed rabbits and playing with its ears. You sit beside him. "Have you eaten today?" It's always the first thing you ask him, knowing he can either get so busy and forget, or just forget to eat in general.
"Nah. Had oatmeal Fi made this morning, though. Wasn't very good." He answers as you frown. "Lip, that was like eight in the morning. It's almost.." you give a glance to the clock. ".. nine pm. Let me make you something. Mac and cheese?" You offer, remembering it's one of the boys favorites.
He lets out a soft groan. "That sounds better then head right now. You know me so well." He says as he sits up. You laugh nervously. "I wouldn't know but.. whatever you say." You comment.
He stares at you. "No one's ever gone down on you?" He asks, all seriousness in his voice. You roll your eyes. "Don't call it that, Lip. But to answer, no." You say with a shrug.
You frown as he continues to stare. "It's not a big deal." You mumble. He shakes his head. "No, no I just- I guess I assumed an ex would have offered or something at least."
"I don't know. One guy.. tried I guess.. but he wasn't very good and he stopped just like, a minute in cause I took too long." You answer.
"Okay.. angel, can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can."
"You trust me, right?" He takes a step. "Of course I do, Lip, more than anyone." He nods. "Next question.." He says.
"Would you let me taste you?" He's suddenly standing closer to you, just within arms reach.
Your eyes meet his instantly as you stare at him. "Lip-" You begin to speak but cut yourself off, shaking your head. "I don't want you to feel like you have to or anything, and I don't want this to change things between us."
"It won't. You trust me, don't you? I wanna do this." He says, pressing his forehead against yours. You stare at him before you exhale. "Okay." You agree, your voice soft.
It doesn't take long after that for his lips to be on yours, kissing you slowly. Your hands sit at your side before you think to move them, wrapping them around his neck. His find your waist, slowly beginning to move you toward the bed, letting you fall back first as you smile against his lips.
His hands explore new areas, as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You let him do as he pleases, your hands gripping at fabric as he pulls away, beginning to kiss down your jaw.
“Lip.” You moan as he begins sucking on your neck. He only pulls away to remove your shirt, so he can have easier access to your chest. Kissing down your chest, hands on your thighs as you let out soft moans that he thinks are heavenly.
He then removes your shorts, removing his own shirt. Hands kneeding at the skin at your thighs, as he begins kissing down your stomach. You let out impatient whines as he smirks against the skin. “Patience, angel. Gotta take my time with you, y’know?” He whispers to himself as he finally reaches your wet cunt.
“So wet f’me, aren’t you?” He asks softly, the only sound filling the room was the fan blowing in the corner. You can't answer, anticipation stopping you as you just nod, staring at the ceiling. Staring at Lip as his nose bumps against your clit seems impossible.
He gently slides his tongue past your wet folds, your body wanting to arch at the sudden intrusion of his tongue in you. He holds your hips down, only moving away from placing kisses on your clit to gently insert a finger in you. "Taste so sweet, angel." He whispers.
Your mind is fogged, the only thought being one thing: Lip. Needing to feel him, you reach a hand down to run a hand on his hair. He grins, placing kisses on the inside of your thigh as he adds a second finger. He begins leaving a hickey on the inside of your thigh, as he arches his fingers.
He removes them, replacing them instead with his tongue. Eating you like a man starved. He can't stop, he tells himself that he cannot stop. Grinding into the mattress, the only thought plaguing his mind is you. How sweet you taste, how tight you feel. The way his jaw is soaked with you.
"Lip, I'm close." You moan softly, as he kneeds the skin on your thigh.
"Come for me, sweetheart." He requests, and you do so. Letting yourself fall apart for him, as you throw your head back.
He grins, as he pulls away. "I need to feel you, Lip, please." You beg, and he's already removing his pants and freeing himself from his boxers. "Okay, okay.. now, honey, I can grab a condom but-"
"No, please. I'm on the pill, we're safe." You confirm with a nod, as you stare at him. He laughs, as he kisses you again as he slides himself past your folds, giving a quiet warning before he inserts himself into you.
You let out a mix of a gasp and a moan, wrapping your legs around him in an attempt to push him deeper. "Shit, angel." He mumbles as he does go a bit deeper in you, thrusting ever so slowly.
“Squeezing around me so tight, yeah? This - fuck - pussy was just made for me, wasn’t it?” He asks, knowing you’re too fucked out to respond with anything more then nods and moans.
“Good girl. Taking me so well, yeah?” He asks, a hand snaking through between your bodies, finding your clit and his fingers rubbing small circles on it. “Could stay here forever, y’know? Just live right here with you..”
You don't hear most of his incoherent rambles except for one more thing: a very soft "I love you."
"Lip, 'm close." You signal as you run a hand through his hair. He continues rubbing circles on your clit, as he buries his face in your neck. "Let go f'me, sweetness." He pleads softly.
You give in, your climax succeeding as you sigh into the mattress. He doesn't last long after that, spilling into you before pulling out swiftly.
Neither of you say anything until you remember what he mumbled. An I love you. "Did you mean it? When you.. you said you loved me?" You question. You're really asking if he meant as a friend or as more.
He looks over at you. "I've been in love with you since I met you, sweetness, of course I meant it.” He answers. You stare at him for a moment before you kiss him again.
Things definetly couldn’t be the same between you two.
˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆。˚꩜
shine on, shine on, my loves!
thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! check out my lip gallagher masterlist here for more fanfics!
- mae
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