#which she also doesn't care too much about but T does so

[creativeskull95]

Murder Drones role swap au except rather than Worker!N moving out of the Bunker to live with the Murder Drones, Disassembler!Uzi follows him inside like a demented stray dog, and now everyone has to deal with Worker!N and his "pet" Murder Drone that can and will follow him everywhere, shooting everyone around them X3 faces when they annoy her too much.

This continues on until Disassembler!Thad breaks into the Bunker to take her home cause, causing a constant game of breaking into the Bunker by all of the Murder Drones.

#murder drones #role swap au #N's name would be Niko in this #I'm thinking the other disassembler would be Lizzie #who technically doesn't care and she's happy Z is gone but it is affecting their numbers #which she also doesn't care too much about but T does so

[fire-lizard-ro]

Ratio as a dad (kinda). Written for my dear @pix3lplays (they already saw this when I initially wrote it).

CW: none it’s all fluff (kinda)

Reader gender: no use of pronouns (as far as I remember) but AFAB

Writing under the cut (SFW):

So when you tell him, he doesn't know how the hell to feel. You guys never really had the children talk, but you could tell that he wasn't really ready for that because of a mix of being too busy, not really understanding children, and never really thinking about it.

To him, children are snot-nosed, loud, emotional little gremlins.

But he never thought about children in the context of you and him. A child born of your flesh and blood. Something you have made together through the miracle (or simple science, as Veritas would say) of procreation.

It would take him a while to think of it that way.

Initially, since this is in the scenario where you're already married, I think that he would be fine with it so long as you're happy with it. He does his logical reasoning and thinks, "Oh. I have the means to raise a child and she wants it." So he doesn't really see a problem with it besides perhaps the stress it will inevitably put on you and having to deal with the messy and emotional rollercoaster ride that is children.

At some point while laying in bed with you after weeks of reading prenatal care and child rearing books, he begins to get curious. Curious about what it would really be like to father a child that the both of you made. That's how things start. Curiosity.

Would the child look like you? He would like that if they could resemble his lovely spouse.

Would they look like him? He would also like this as there would be no doubting who the father of your child was. A reminder of how the two of you were undeniably together.

Would they look like the both of you? He would enjoy this outcome the most as it would be the best of both options.

Would they have his intelligence that he prides himself on? Your smile that he loves, even if quietly?

Because of this process of beginning to be curios and thinking about the child yet to be born, it's not hard for him to subconsciously relate good feelings (and chemicals like dopamine and serotonin, he'd think) to the child themself.

You're happy when you talk about the child and what you'll do for them and how you'll care for them. He's happy when you're happy. He's pleased when thinking about how people will be able to see a physical manifestation of your love and belonging with each other. You're happy to be having his child. He's happy about that, too.

While your feelings regarding the child is like a warm spring day or a cup of hot tea just boiled, his are more mild, still. Like your tea, already cooled, or a warm blanket. There are positive feelings involved now, and even he cannot deny it (at least to himself).

He takes care of you well, following the advice of the books and experts to the T. Perhaps a little too closely because it's a bit overprotective. You're his. Which also means it's in his obligation to take care of you well.

But when the child is born... I think there's at least a spark there. I'm not sure it's enough to light that flame quite yet, but now... He realizes that this really is his child. His and yours. He has your pretty eyes but with his color. The curl of your hair and the slope of his nose. Oh. Oh...

This child...

As the years go on and he spends time caring for the child and spending time with them, he begins to find all these little endearing things about them. How they'll seek him out even in sleep. How they'll smile at him happily, the slant of it so much like yours. How they'll crawl and eventually waddle their way to him when they begin to cry... Even just the fact that he spends time with them is enough to grow this bond. And at some point, they're off to school and it's clear they did, indeed, have his intelligent mind. But they're far more soft around the edges. Much more susceptible to the inherent loneliness, boredom, and ridicule, even, that comes with such intelligence.

But... he gets it. He never really thought anyone understood him at that age and for him? It was lonely but he was irritated by it more than anything. He had thicker skin than his child at that age.

So when they come to him about it all, he can only try his best to let them know he gets it even if he doesn't know how to express such a thing.

Ever heard the saying, "Even a beast will love its child?"

He’s not a nice person. His personality is rough and no one would ever think he could be suited to something as delicate as fatherhood.

And yet…

While he's not one for grand gestures, I think the kid would be able to see he cares.

It's in the little things for him.

Talking about the things they're interested in at school.

Telling them about his work and the things he researches. Being patient with them unlike how he is with his students. ("They are grown. But you are not," he would say with a short pat to the head before going back to checking over their homework with care.)

Rewarding them for their achievements, even if it's with something small.

All sorts of small things.

(He'll never admit it, but you have a picture of the two napping while the kid was sprawled against his side, head tucked into his neck.)

Anyways ofisjgeo yeah-

Hopefully this isn’t too delusional goodbye- I was trying to make him a Relatively Good Dad for Pix while also making sure he was still mostly in-character. OTL

#Roro writes #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dr ratio x reader #dr. ratio x reader #gn reader #afab reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Lovers

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader (y/n)

Warnings: smut!!, cheating

the background of the story: a few months ago you decided to visit your friend Sophie who lives in Monaco. Sophie has been in a relationship with Carlos for a while, and his teammate Charles is in a relationship with a girl (Ava) who isn't with him for the right reasons and doesn't really care about him. due to a combination of circumstances, you stayed in Monaco to live in Sophie's apartment and started running social networks for Ferrari, filming behind the scenes and similar things. From the very beginning, you and Charles have a love-hate relationship. He keeps sending you mixed signals and you never know where you're standing with him. A few weeks before you locked yourself out of the apartment, you shared a kiss that you couldn't stop thinking about…and neither could he.

Y/n's POV

After about half an hour of waiting in front of the locked door, the elevator opens and the eagerly awaited Charles steps out. Of course he had to be the one to come and 'save' me because who else would it be? Our relationship has not changed much in these months. Somehow I also accepted that that kiss happened once and that was it. After all he is taken so I forced myself to stop thinking about him entirely.

As he steps out of the elevator, at first he doesn't say anything but just smirks at me.

"Please, just don't say anything." I say as he comes in front of me pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jeans. He was looking as handsome as always wearing a simple white oversized t-shirt and light washed baggy jeans. No one could ever pull off rings, bracelets and sunglasses the way he does with his perfectly messy curls.

"Y/n." He says putting the key into the lock. "Wasn't going to." As the door finally opens I see smoke coming from the kitchen. My lasagna..

"No, no, no, no!" Horrified and worried, I start repeating, running towards the kitchen, begging God that I didn't set someone else's kitchen on fire and that only the lasagna was harmed.

"What is happening?" Charles runs after me.

"Oh thank God.." I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that nothing is burning in the kitchen except for my lasagna, which turned completely black.

"What exactly are you thanking God for?" He asked mockingly, watching me take the tray of unrecognizable lasagna out of the oven.

"I'm thanking Him for not accidentally setting this whole apartment on fire."

"You're a real danger Y/N." He laughs leaning over the counter. "Like in every possible way." And I join him. I feel like I'm in love with these so beautiful and yet so rare moments of laughter with Charles.

"Thank you for coming here with the keys. I really don't know how else I'd manage to enter the apartment since Sophie and Carlos are in Madrid."

"That lasagna would be a nice thank you for having to come here, but since you're such a great cook.." He mocks again, but I don't mind it.

"Oh stop it!" I wave my hand and open the fridge to see what's left in there. "Well, I don't have anything else left to offer you except beer?"

"I'll take it."

One beer for me, one for him, one for him, one for me, and then again one for him, one for me and so the hours went by without even realizing that it was already dark outside. We were sitting on the floor on the carpet in front of the couch. The TV was on, but we got into talking so much that no one paid attention to it.

"I still can't believe Carlos and Sophie are getting married." Charles says taking another sip from the bottle.

"I personally think it's a bit too fast 'cause they've been together for only like a year, but if they feel like that's it, then I'm all for it. He's head over heels for her."

"Yeah, I guess when you know you know."

"Besides, it's perfect timing since she's pregnant with him so-"

"What?!" At that moment I realize that my tongue works faster than my mind and I pour out Sophie's secret to Charles.

"Oh no no! Forget it please!" I don't know what was I trying to achieve with this? Maybe erase his memory?

"Sophie's pregnant? Carlos is going to be a dad?!" He asks unable to wrap his mind around the fact.

"Yes, yes they're having a baby, but please be quiet about it because literally no one knows but me. Carlos is just about to find out."

"Oh my God..I can't believe it." I notice that his face drops a bit. He doesn't seem all that excited about the rather exciting news. After all Carlos is his best friend. Or at least one of them.

"What?" I ask. "Aren't you excited for him?"

"I am, of course. But it just got me thinking how so much good things is happening to him - he's getting podiums, every weekend he gets better and better, he's getting married, now excepting a child and then I'm over here feeling like I'm fucking stuck in a place..I don't know." This is the first time that after 3 and a half months of knowing Charles he is showing his vulnerable side. He is finally opening up to me and we're finally having a meaningful conversation.

"Why are you feeling stuck in a place?"

"I don't know how to explain it. Nothing's pushing me forward, I feel empty. I feel like I'm waiting on something, but it's not coming." I'm trying to read between the lines what he is trying to tell with this, but unsuccessfully. "I'm fucking struggling."

"Charles.." I listen to him with a heavy heart and wish to hug him and wipe the sadness away. "I'm sorry that you feel this way. What about Ava? Shouldn't she be your motivation?"

"She should be my motivation." He says with a sneer. "Except that's not the case. I once wanted her to be the one to push me forward, but now I'm not even sure if I want it to be her. She's never fucking there and I got tired." I remember when Lando said that he's never talking about his relationship with them and yet here he is talking about it to me, almost a stranger to him, even though it's obviously painful for him to share his feelings.

"If the relationship no longer makes you happy and fulfilled, then why not put an end to it?" I honestly ask him dying to know his answer.

"It's not as simple as it seems. She's Ava Wolff." He says taking a look at my eyes. "And I would like to change the subject now."

"Okay." I decide not to push it. The time will come when he will say that too. "But, just so you know I like you tonight." I say trying to light up the mood and succeed when he chuckles.

"Really? Well I guess better late than never. But, just so you know I've liked you since the Monaco GP." He says and starts playing with the red bracelet I gave him that day for good luck remembering how devastated he was that day because he didn't perform well and his girlfriend wasn't even there at his home race.

I start to stir in place from his words trying to hide the fact that he made me blush. He notices it anyway and pulls himself closer to me.

"Why are you so nervous?" He asks calmly looking straight at me as I tried to look anywhere but his mesmerizing green eyes.

"I'm not." I say quite softly and uncertainly. He scoots even closer to me, so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath on the skin of m neck. He is facing me while I am facing the TV. My heart is beating so harsh I can feel it pounding against my rib cage.

"Y/n.."

"Hm?"

"I've been trying really hard to forget about it," He says, referring to the kiss we shared, as he moves a strand of my hair behind my ear and keeps his palm on my cheek. "I just can't seem to." Before I can even think of anything to say, our eyelids slightly start closing and our lips meet.

At that moment everything becomes less important, neither of us breaks the kiss, we decide to save the "this is wrong" and "we shouldn't, we have to stop" for later.

He kissed me so delicately, his lips softly brushed mine. He was so careful caressing my cheek with his thumb and the kiss was so tender leaving me wanting more.

"Charles.." I breathe out whispering.

"Don't overthink this, please. I'm dying to kiss you over and over again." His words were enough to erase any doubt in me whether I wanted this or not. They got me hooked eagerly wanting more of whatever this was. Once the kiss turned from gentle to passionate, then firmer and more determined, I knew I desperately needed him in every way that there is.

"I want you." I was trying to refrain from moaning since he hasn't even touched me properly yet and I was already a mess.

"You have me so easily. Come here." He pulls me into his lap so I straddle him without breaking the kiss. I worked my mouth against his while his hands were roaming my body under my oversized t-shirt. Once he reached the bra clasp he stopped for a second to take a look at my eyes asking for permission to remove it.

"Take it off." I whisper and seconds later the bra was thrown to the side. With one hand he cupped my breast and with the other he pulled me down making me grind on his stiffened crotch. He threw his head back groaning as I pressed myself against him.

"Fuck, take these off." He says tugging at the hem of my shorts. I obediently do as he orders, taking my t-shirt off along the way and in a matter of seconds I'm sitting in his lap only in my panties completely revealing myself to him. He takes a second to admire my naked body with hungry eyes and slightly parted lips eyeing me up and down.

"You're so beautiful, fuck." My heart flutters at his sweet comment even though I didn't want him to be sweet-talking to me. I wanted him to tell me how much he wanted me, what he would do to me, and how he wanted to have me.

His hand found its way to my panties rubbing me over them feeling the now already damp lace fabric. "You're soaking, is this for me? Have I made you feel this wet?" He wasn't even trying to hide the smug on his face. I gasp at his words and his touch, but he wanted to hear me. "Answer me."

"It's all for you." He pulls my panties aside and starts rubbing small and slow torturous circles on my clit.

"This isn't the first time that you're wet for me now is it?" He murmurs against my lips and I gulp panting. "I know it isn't. I know you've been thinking about me." He glides his fingers over my wet folds up and down before he slips his middle finger inside me. I wince at the the coldness of his finger, but soon start moving my hips against his hand.

"Look at you.. So hot, so eager for me. I've been getting hard thinking about you and your innocent lips wrapped around me even though they're anything but innocent." He slips another finger inside me and I almost finish right away at the profanities that he's telling against my skin. I start to unbutton his pants while he takes of his shirt. He lifts himself up on the couch and I stay down on my knees between his legs. I pull his boxers down his legs revealing the long shaft that sprung off his hitting his lower stomach. I decided to tease him a little and start working my tongue everywhere but the tip where he needed me the most. Once again he throws his head back in pleasure desperate for my touch around him and I enjoy every second of listening him moaning my name. I lick his balls and gently dig my nails into the skin of his thighs. He tries to grab himself, but I stop his hand and put it back on the side.

"Wrap your lips around me, you're driving me insane." I smirk as I see him on almost begging for me. It doesn't take long until I do ad he pleases taking his shaft and giving it a few strokes before I start bobbing my head up and down paying special attention to his aching red tip.

"You're taking it so well for me, so fucking beautiful." His words are prompting while he's moving hair out of my face and collecting it into a ponytail so he can lead my head. I continue doing what I was fastening my pace until he stops me taking my chin between his fingers.

"I don't wanna cum like this and if you continue I sure fucking will. I need to feel you around me. Do you want me to fuck you, hm?"

"Yes, Charles fuck I do." I pant as the aching feeling between my legs rises. He pulls me up by my elbows and I straddle him again as he pulls me again for another long kiss his tongue fiercely wrestling mine. He takes his shaft into his hand prepping it a bit before positioning it on my center. I don't wait for him to pull me down on him, I do it myself rolling my hips against him at first slowly so I can adjust to his length and enjoy every second of the feeling of him inside of me.

"Yes baby ride me, you're so good for me. You do it so good." Butterflies errupt in my stomach at him calling me baby. His thumb brushes over my lower lip and I hold onto his hand. His other hand slides down to rub circles on my clit again and I feel my legs starting to shake.

"Oh Charles, Charles.." I cry out his name clenching around him.

"Eyes on me." He lifts up my chin making me look him in the eyes while I come undone around him and he starts working his hips upwards wanting to prolong my climax. I try to squirm away as the excessive feeling of pleasure overwhelms me and sensitivity takes over. Charles stops me by tightly wrapping his strong arms around me hugging me and hiding his face in the crook of my neck leaving trail of small gentle kisses.

"That's it. You're doing so well for me. Can you keep going?" I nod my head yes and he's quick to turn me over and lay me down onto the couch. He pulls himself out of me and presses himself against my stomach his lips never leaving my neck. I tug on his hair with one hand and with the other slide my nails down his back.

"Kiss me." I plead and he does so. He teases me with his tip going over my now too sensitive and wet folds.

"Will you be able to cum for me one more time?"

"I don't know.." I whisper with a trembling voice. "But I don't wanna stop." That's all it takes for him to push himself deep inside me tiredlessly working his hips in and out of me.

"You're so fucking tight." He attaches his lips to my hard nipples flicking his tongue arounf them and nibbling on them making me whine out his name.

"Charles..oh yes."

"So fucking hot hearing you moan my name." He says. "Fuck, what you do to me..Touch yourself for me."

I slide my hand between us down to my clit making quick circular movements and the sight of me touching myself drives him completely crazy it has him rolling his eyes and panting.

"Fuck, baby I'm close, I'm gonna cum." He starts moving his hips faster hitting my walls making me clench myself around him and screaming out his name as I finish one more time. Seconds later he pulls out stroking himself at fast pace and cumming all over my stomach.

Barely catching his breath he gives me a peck on the lips before falling onto me and I close my eyes playing with his locks.

Leaving Charles on the couch, I get up and head towards the bathroom. I slide down my now completely soaked panties and step inside the shower. As the lukewarm water hits my skin, I let out a deep breath and close my eyes letting myself go through all the emotions that have accumulated in me in the last few hours.

Guilt washes over me because I don't feel guilty and because I know I'd do this all over again with him. I have never before experienced something so passionate, sensual, exciting and satisfying, something that left me wanting more of him. I find myself smiling thinking about him and what we just did, but even though i don't want to let myself expect anything, I forgive myself this time because i'm still under the impression of him tightly gripping my body, kissing me all over my neck and calling me 'baby'.

I hear the sound of the shower door opening and soon Charles' hands are resting on my waist and his lips are pressing against my shoulder. I smile tilting my head to the side.

"You're washing me off yourself already?"

"I was hoping you'd come." I turn to face him wrapping my arms around his neck. He leans in to kiss me only this time slowly and gently. "Can I ask you something?" I ask and he nods. "Are you drunk?" He chuckles at my somewhat funny question. It was clear to me that he couldn't get drunk from 3 cans of beer, I just wanted to check how aware he was of our actions. I wanted to get out of him how he felt about this, I wanted him to tell me something, even though at the same time I was afraid of what I would hear. I didn't want anything to ruin these moments, even though I was very curious and impatient.

"Drunk off of you only." I blush leaning my head into the crook of his neck, but he sensed what I was getting at. "Let's not think about anything and enjoy the moment, okay?" He presses a kiss to my forehead and I feel relieved although on the verge of overthinking this.

"Are you tired?" He asks quietly against the skin of my neck.

"A little bit." I gasp letting my eyes close. "Why?" Just as I asked the question, I felt him slowly pressing himself against me.

"Because I can't get enough of you." His tonuge slides over my bottom lip asking for permission and I let him in without any hesitation. "I want to hear you moan my name again." He says into my ear abruptly turning me around and pressing me against the shower wall. He pushes himself inside of me and starts thrusting in and out again further and further.

"Charles.." The slapping of our wet skin echoed throughout the bathroom.

"How are you so tight, fuck.." His pace picked up and I could feel both of us were close. "I'm close baby, I'm not gonna last long."

My back was arched and I held onto the glass with my palms. Soon my legs started shaking and his hips stuttering against me as we both finished at the same time. The moans filled the small space inside the shower as we were coming down from our highs. I was so weak, the strength in my legs long gone I would've fallen down if he hadn't held me.

"Are you okay? Talk to me." He asks gently caressing my cheek.

"I am." I smile assuring him with a kiss. "Let's take a shower and go to bed okay?"

"Okay."

After we showered and dried off with towels, we went to my room and got into bed. Neither of us said anything, he just pulled me close and held me tight around the waist as if I was going to run away any second. There wasn't even any need to say anything. Being in his arms, feeling his breathing on my skin felt so safe, so intimate that I wished this would never end.

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz fluff #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris

[lihhelsing]

Part 3

Eddie can barely react when Steve offers to pick him up at his house for their date night.

Eddie is a nervous wreck at this point as he's been with everything that's related to Steve (or related to not-Steve). 

Ever since he first matched with him, Eddie felt like he was living in a parallel world because there was no way in hell someone like him would ever swipe right on someone like Eddie. And yet. It really happened. 

Well, at first it didn't, but then Steve called and said all those nice things to Eddie and fuck if he wasn't easy when someone flattered him. 

But Eddie was also a paranoid shit, so he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Steve to laugh at him and tell him it was just a prank. For him to ghost him - which maybe would be even worse. 

But Steve didn't and now he was waiting outside of his place in a fucking BMW? What the fuck was that? 

Steve looks good because he always does. They had been exchanging pictures of themselves as they talked and even when Steve was all sweaty and gross from a workout he still looked good. Eddie compensated with good angles and dork faces that Steve said time and time again were adorable. 

He insisted so much that he thought Eddie was cute that Eddie was almost believing him. He had also tried his hardest for their date, putting on some of his favorite clothes, a band t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans that made him look good. His hair was down because it felt like a good armor if he needed to hide from something. 

Steve doesn't even give him time to anything before he's smiling and saying 'you look so handsome,' and placing his hand on Eddie's thigh and fuck, he forgot how to breathe. 

"Thanks, you, uh, you look good, too," Eddie blabbers and Steve chuckles and it's adorable. He's adorable and Eddie is losing his shit. 

"Ready for our date?" Steve smiles and turns the car on, his hand heavy on Eddie's leg still. There's a part of Eddie that's sure he's the farthest thing from ready, but this is happening, no question. 

X

Somehow, Eddie tricks Steve into inviting him over after the movie is over. Steve said he wanted to take him to dinner, but he failed to mention dinner was actually eating popcorn and candy at a drive-in. 

Eddie had no notes. 

After the movie started, he managed to relax a bit. Steve seemed to feel it because he, too, relaxed and when they were done with their food, he offered his hand for Eddie to take. He felt giddy like a high-schooler and like Steve had, somehow, known Eddie never had the chance to do any of that in high school.

Despite his fancy car, Steve's apartment is more modest than Eddie expects it to be. He mentioned having a roommate who he's friends with, although he said he just met her over the internet and she hooked him up with the job. 

"So, is she like your best friend or something?" Eddie asks as Steve opens the car door for him as if he's a prince out of a fairy tale. 

"Oh, no. I mean, we're friends and we talk and I really like her company, but I don't think she likes me very much."

"Why not?"

Steve shrugs, but Eddie can tell it's a sore subject‌. Eddie gets it, though. For the little he knows Steve, he can already tell he cares a lot about people liking him or not. He also doesn't understand why someone wouldn't like Steve, but well, people are weird. 

"Is she out?" Eddie asks as they get in the elevator and Steve nods. 

"Yeah, she usually spends Friday nights at her girlfriend's place. That's why I normally get the Friday shift. I kind of hate being home alone and it's just a nice thing to do for her, I guess."

Eddie hums noncommittally. He's trying to piece Steve together, but it's hard because his looks and his posture sometimes say one thing and then he lets out this incredibly vulnerable information and it leaves Eddie confused. 

They walk in together and the place is small, but cute. There's an old couch and Steve tells him to sit down, saying he's getting them some drinks. Eddie doesn't want to drink, he wants to just grab Steve by the face and kiss him dumb. 

Steve doesn't take long and as he sits down, Eddie can't hold it anymore. He has no idea where all this bravado comes from, but he leans forward and pecks Steve on the mouth. Steve's eyes widen and Eddie is about to apologize when two hands cup his face and pull him forward. 

And then they are kissing. Really kissing. With tongue and little huffs that come out of Steve's mouth and Eddie feels like he's died. 

If he is, in fact, dead, then Eddie is going to make the best of it. He lets his hands move to Steve's waist and he pulls him in. He has no idea what he was trying to do, but Steve seems to be much more confident because he straddles Eddie's hips and then he's on top. 

"Fuck," Eddie says. He's completely out of breath and Steve feels so good like this. He grips his waist harder and Steve thinks it's a go-ahead for him to roll his hips down and Eddie sees stars. 

Steve kisses him like he's hungry for him, and it's a heady feeling. Eddie has kissed boys before, but no one that looked like Steve. No one that made his heart skip so many beats like he does. 

No one that seemed to want Eddie as much as Steve does right now. 

"Stevie," Eddie whispers. He's not even sure he managed to get the words out but Steve stops kissing his neck. His pupils are blown out and his mouth is red and swollen and Eddie did that. 

"Yeah?" Steve is out of breath, too. His chest rises and falls in quick intervals. 

"Can we slow down?" Eddie says when he catches his own breath. He's afraid of saying it because it makes him look pathetic, but he doesn't want to rush this. 

They've been talking for a month before they even went out, but Eddie still feels too raw and insecure and-

"Of course, baby," Steve interrupts Eddie's train of thought and he has a soft smile, but he doesn't move away. He's not repelled by Eddie. He leans in and kisses him softly on the mouth. 

The pet name wraps itself around Eddie's heart. He's desperate to believe all of this means more than just a casual hook up but he knows he can't. Not yet. 

"Oh, wait! I saved a video I wanted to show you," Steve says as if they weren't eating each other a few short seconds ago. Eddie chuckles. He likes it. He likes how Steve can just roll with whatever Eddie throws his way. 

"Yeah, let's see this video," Eddie smiles, takes a moment to just admire Steve, hair a complete mess thanks to him, face flushed a pretty shade of pink. He looks perfect and Eddie wants to keep him so bad. 

"Wait, can you call my phone? I don't know where I put it." 

Much to Eddie's disappointment, Steve gets out of his lap and pats his pockets, frowning. He starts moving around the house and Eddie fishes his phone, dialing Steve's number from his contact list. 

He watches as Steve disappears back inside the kitchen and listens as his phone starts to ring right beside him, on the couch. Eddie can't see it, so he pushes his hand at the edges and pulls out Steve's phone. 

They must've been making out pretty hard for the phone to go this deeper on the couch. Eddie chuckles and presses the red button at the same time Steve comes back into the living room. 

"Found it! I left it at the kitchen counter when I grabbed us water," Steve says, waving a phone he has in his hands. Eddie frowns at him and holds out the phone he found. 

"Me too."

It's Steve's turn to look confused. "What?"

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#steve harrington #Eddie Munson #Coffee Shop AU #AU #Alternate Universe #Stranger Things #Fanfic #Stranger Things fanfic #Steddie #Steddie Fanfic

[bas-writes]

Kings Don't Fall in Love

Character: Donquixote Doflamingo Reader: female (should be trans inclusive but I haven't proof-read it from this pov, so proceed at own risk) CW: intimacy starved Doffy, non-descriptive mentions of sex, pressure put on scent, emotional isolation, Doffy's pov Word Count: 1.1k Synopsis: You leave a piece of clothing after a night spent together at Doflamingo's place. Something unexpected happens when he takes a closer look at it. A/N: I listen too much to Cigarettes After Sex and it shows... Anyway, a little gift to @opopnomi for which I hope she won't kill me LMAO Hope it made your day at least a little better :3

It's just your overnight t-shirt.

Doflamingo almost misses it among the clutter thrown all over his bedroom. It's just a single piece of clothing, but a little snip of fabric in comparison to his own stuff all around. You're so little next to him, from heads to toes, and especially your hands he likes to hold in his as he teases you for your embarrassment in face of the size difference. Everything about you is so little and endearing, and he can't help a little smirk at the thought of your eyes perked up at him.

They always look doe and pleading from this angle. And he loves it.

It's just your overnight t-shirt. A thing you wear only in the privacy of your room, not here, in the kingdom of lingerie, kink apparel, and all of his whims at the given moment. He got to know it only because you were wearing it when he dragged you out of your house and kidnapped you to his territory. 

Doflamingo can't even remember now how you looked in it as all he cared about was to free you out of it, to feel your bare breasts in his hands. He picks it up, its weight barely palpable, and frowns, trying to recreate the image in his head, and failing. He doesn't cry over it, the thing is not sexy; it's just a t-shirt, stretched over your size, its colors worn-out, chosen to be cozy, not presentable. It's somewhat yours through and through and alien for his eyes. It suits you like your own skin and disturbs the image of yours in his mind. It's so out of place, time and imagination that he can't peel his eyes off it.

The king's attention can last only as much, though, and he's already putting it away—to send you back or throw it into trash, he's not decided yet—when an impulse strikes his curiosity. Doflamingo doesn't think much of it when he brings the t-shirt closer. It's just a whim, a spur of a second, who would have paid attention to reasoning behind something so meaningless? 

When it touches his cheek, he nearly understands why you like to sleep in it. It's soft—and not only for a piece of clothing. The sensation is pleasant, almost having him craving for more, especially against the freshly shaved, irritated skin. It carries a weirdly nostalgic feel to that, like a warm hand cupping his face. He can't pinpoint what pulls him to do that, but he follows and nuzzles into the fabric, with hesitation at first, soon with eagerness that shocks him—but doesn't stop him regardless. 

Your smell is…stronger.

Doflamingo knows every aspect of yours, all of the intimate nooks and crevices of your body. But this is different, far more private, feeling almost forbidden to be approached so…offhandedly. It's not just a faint trace of your scent nor the sharp aroma he trails straight from your skin. The t-shirt is soaked with you; it's still fresh enough to carry the aftertaste of a pleasant and flowery smell of washing detergent but also clearly worn for many nights already. It's the coziness of your tangled sheets, the rustle of a book you like to read before sleep, the simple touch of toothpaste and morning coffee, the whisper of dreams and hum of the alarm clock on your bed stand.

He's a brutal intruder, maybe for the first time ashamed of it—but chasing the sensation nevertheless, the stronger the bigger his guilt grows. Until this moment, Doflamingo has been sure you're in his possession, like a bird in a tight cage of his strings—and now each breath of your most sacred intimacy proves him what a fool he's been all this time. He holds a treasure he should never been trusted with, the image of you you kept to your solitude. You don't share such secrets with just anyone, oh Doflamingo is aware, so painfully aware. He's just your lover, just your king, just someone who can control your body and mind, but never your soul, wrapped tightly in this old t-shirt he so brutally gently presses to his face.

He wants more, he needs more, he fears more.

His eyes closing, Doflamingo takes one more, desperately deep breath, full of your smell and his loneliness. His arms should be filled with you—yet, they're empty. This shirt should be covering your breasts—yet, it's almost teared in his desperate clutch. Your voice should vibrate through his bedroom—and yet, there's only an echo of the sound he hasn't heard for decades. Your body should warm his side—yet he's shivering in the middle of his pathetic kingdom of four walls and ice-cold heart.

What's a king without the thing he craves the most, after all? Without the thing he will never claim as it's impossible to be claimed?

It scares him, that musky and heavy scent tangled in cotton threads. That lie detector, that sharp knife slicing his soul paper-thin, and heading towards the most vulnerable, the most protected core of his memories and emotions. Doflamingo takes the last, shaking whiff of it, and finally pulls away, his chest clenched tight and eyes dry and pricking. Your shirt is just a shirt again, just a piece of old, stretched fabric in his hands.

He almost throws it away, with fear and self-disgust.

It should be returned, it should be gone, but the longer he thinks about it, Doflamingo can't bring himself to move either way. Just the idea of handing it to a servant leaves a bad, bitter taste in his mouth, like sucking blood out of a cut on a parched lip. Walking to your house and disturbing your privacy even more fills him with anxiety he hasn't experienced before. And to call you here—

Your soul shouldn't be entrusted to a place of corporeality.

He would gladly just toss it out of his sight and mind—or to seal it in one of his hidden vaults, where neither of you wouldn't find it for a long, long time. At the same time, he doesn't want to, to hide and to heal. It burns his hand when he finally brings himself to pull the den den mushi out of the drawer and chooses your number he has, much to his surprise, learnt already by heart. It is almost physical, harder with each passing second, and he just keeps clenching his fingers tighter on it.

A few dreadful heartbeats later, the torturous, steady ring of awaiting call is interrupted by your voice. And Doflamingo can finally bleed his soul out into the speaker, "Y/N. Come. Yes, you left something at my place."

#doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you #doflamingo x y/n #doflamingo imagine #doflamingo scenario #doflamingo fanfiction #doflamingo fluff #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #bas writes #doflamingo #female reader

[lurkingshan]

Unknown Episode 6

Well, we wanted them to bring the pain, and my god did they do it. If you had any remaining doubt that this show knows exactly what it's doing with this story, this episode surely put it to rest. There were so many excellent scenes this week, and not all of them are strictly from the source material. I'm going to walk through the episode by favorite moments, because there is so much worthy of discussion here.

That first scene between Qian and Yuan, when Qian put his hand on Yuan's face and expressed his worry, was original to the show, and it got me right in the heart. It is exhausting to love someone you know won't love you back in the same way, and Yuan has been crumbling under the burden of trying to restrain his feelings while staying close to Qian. That Qian is both the source of his comfort and his agony makes it all so much harder, and Qian's blinders to Yuan's feelings means he is constantly making it worse for Yuan without meaning to.

I also loved the whole sequence at the H.O.T. party, from Yuan arriving sad and sick and vulnerable only to see Feng Ning getting cozy with his brother, to Qian knowing instantly that something was wrong with Yuan and becoming distracted, to Qian and Feng Ning's chat clearing up their relationship and the show allowing her to be awesome and not at all villainous about it, to Qian following Yuan into the backroom for the confrontation. It was a short sequence but it all built masterfully to the moment we've been waiting for since episode 1.

And what a scene that was. I loved that it began with Qian trying to care for Yuan like he always does. He is at a work event but he cannot focus on anything else until he knows Yuan is okay. But Yuan has hit his limit while his guard was down, and it all finally comes spilling out in the worst way possible. The emotions of this scene were perfect--Qian was truly shocked, deeply upset, and importantly, betrayed by Yuan crossing this boundary and imploding their relationship. And Yuan is also feeling upset and betrayed, because he has always counted on Qian to accept him no matter what, and in this moment, Qian failed him by rejecting him in a way he never has before. They are both clearly devastated to have this relationship ruined because for both of them, it is the most important one in their lives.

It's not surprising that Qian goes into full avoidance mode in the aftermath; he has no idea how to navigate his conflicting instincts. He doesn't want to reject Yuan and in fact it hurts him deeply to do so, but he can't accept him either. He's too shell shocked and angry to return to caretaking, but the guilt is clearly eating at him. So he hides, and finds a way to keep avoiding it by sending Yuan away. And this led to two more fantastic scenes, because this show cares about all its characters and the entire family unit, not just the two leads.

First, San Pang and Yuan. I love that despite making many mistakes and ultimately accelerating the implosion between the brothers, San Pang is not intentionally being malicious here. He is genuinely trying to help because he loves both Qian and Yuan, he doesn't want Qian to be hurt by Yuan's feelings, and he is clearly hoping Yuan can move on from it if he intervenes. Yuan knows this too, which is why he does not hate him despite his interference, and why he feels comfortable pushing San Pang to explain why his love for Qian is such a bad thing. I love that the show went here, and that San Pang couldn't come up with a logical reason why it's wrong. It just feels wrong to him, and isn't that the case with so much cultural taboo?

Second, I love this show so much for not forgetting Lili in all of this. Her increasing anxiety and fear at seeing her brothers' relationship fall apart without understanding why was so heartbreaking. This is her family, and she has had her own very rough childhood and survived parental abandonment too, and suddenly everything is blowing up and no one will explain it to her. Yuan clearly doesn't want to leave her anymore than he does Qian, but at this point he's not being left with much choice. And Qian is not in a headspace to offer her any explanation or comfort. I'm glad her pain was not overlooked.

The way this episode ended, with Yuan setting off for a lonely stint abroad, and Qian not even giving him a proper goodbye, was the final touch of heartbreak. Qian loves his brother so much, and I think he'll regret sending him away so coldly when he is finally able to process what happened here--he may already be starting to regret it, judging by the forlorn look on his face as he leaned in his doorway recalling their memories together. I was glad that at least he left Yuan a token to take with him; he can't face him right now, but he does care. Some time apart will likely do them some good, but in the meantime there will be a lot of loneliness in both their lives. This show hurts so good.

#unknown the series #taiwanese bl #shan shouts into the void

[cfr749]

Initial Thoughts on Chenford in 6x07

All right... I'm feeling... a lot at the moment, so just sharing my initial reactions before seeing anyone else's. I'm sure my feelings will evolve. Also this turned into a GD essay and I'm sorry.

The Good

Grey acknowledging that Lucy was going through a lot ABOVE & BEYOND the break up. I just wish he'd mentioned the shooting, too. Lucy deserves to be more than her relationship with Tim and I need to actually see that in the future.

Lucy laying out 2 key things in her conversation with Grey - how easily Tim walked away and that he had no right to make that decision for her

Prior to the last scene (see The Ugly below), I thought Tim's interactions with the therapist were reasonably well done; if only therapy was that easy in real life lol

"You've always got a home with me" - I loved this final scene between Lucy and Tamara. I don't really have feelings either way about Tamara at this point, and this still hit me right in the heart.

Smitty's poll made me laugh, but also another solid indicator that these writers / producers do in fact really enjoy laughing at the expense of the fandom and shippers (which, whatever, I don't care that they do, I'd prob do the same; but it does irk me when people act like these writers should be worshipped because of all the things they "give" us)

The Tim

"I'm not depressed. I broke up with her."

"I was her TO." Not her friend, cuz god knows Tim has yet to deal with the fact that he started banging his former Rookie I suppose.

I dunno whether to put this in The Good or The Bad at this point; it depends on where they take it, so instead Tim gets a section all about why he's a dick.

To be clear, I do not like that Tim is a dick. But I actually do kind of like that it is very clear TO THE AUDIENCE that Tim is being kind of a dick. Do I still think people will bend over backwards to defend him? Of course they will.

From my perspective, I love Tim, I understand that he thinks he's doing the right thing, and has lots and lots of trauma. I've never seen Tim as a character that magically healed at some point between Seasons 1 & 5 (please see his storyline with his dad, his ongoing issues with UC work and unwillingness to confront or deal with them, his feelings about therapy historically, his inability to dump Ashley, etc. etc.). He's never been perfect and he doesn't need to be.

All of those things are true. None of those things give him a free pass to be kind of a dick. He still has to take accountability for how he treated Lucy (which, to be clear, was like sh*t).

The Bad

Lucy being petty AF with the invites to Tamara's dinner - let her be ANGRY, but give me villain Lucy over this dumb sh*t.

Lucy having no one other than Grey to talk to.

Others acting like Lucy is actually kind of pathetic (why do these writers love sh*tting on her so much? girl could not be down and kicked any harder at this point) -- Celina / Nolan and the double dumping crap, Lucy thinking Grey paid actors and him telling her she was out of her damn mind

The last interaction between Lucy and Tim. I am so angry for her. I needed to see that from her, but instead it felt kind of like her being dumped / a kicked puppy all over again. We got it, thanks. What's next? Lucy being incredibly happy with the hottest man on earth? I'm here for it tbh. Lucy plotting Tim's murder? Also here for it at this point. LOL.

The Ugly

I could not hate the implication of that final scene with Tim and the therapist and the door shutting more. There was ZERO reason they couldn't have had him show up during the day, and it actually disgusts me that they are pushing this line again, but especially with Tim. I am literally NEVER this dramatic, but in this case I really hope they did that to just get a reaction, because if anything were to actually happen between Tim and the therapist, I'd be 100% done with this ship and show as would a whole lot of the audience (I think). If I kept watching, it would only be to see Lucy be absurdly happy without Tim.

Well, what'd I miss? What did y'all think?

#chenford #the rookie #the rookie spoilers #see lana ramble #no one tell the writers that women can have storylines that are not about BABIES

[lowkeyremi]

Hey there! was looking through your stuff and realized you’ve never written about Iida before. So guess what? IM gonna be the change…

Could you possibly write a scenario of Iida going through the motions of proposing to the reader? How he’s super meticulous and everything has to go according to plan to where things just…don’t? lol.

But things work out anyways because of course it’s Tenya Iida.

You can do gender neutral or fem, I really don’t care. Thanks!

— lovelyiida ❤︎︎

Perfection t. iida x gn!reader

remi's note: hiiiii!!! i do need to branch out on who i write about don't i? lolll anyway i was super happy to see you requested. you're one of my fav writers on here and it's an honor to write for u!! this is such a cute idea too bc he's def an over thinker and needs everything to go 100% his way. also. wow. this was wayyyy longer than i intended for it to be <3

cw: fluff, slight angst in the beginning, things don't quite go as planned, tenya goes to his big bro for advice, silliness, a little bit of swearing.

He's tense of course, sitting in his office as the time ticks by. He wants to call his brother just one more time but he knows exactly what he's going to say, "Tenya, you're stressing this too much, they're going to say yes." Which is not what he wants to hear. He needs an absolute fool proof plan and then some.

As he's sitting there thinking his secretary walks in, she looks tired and Tenya pities making her stay a little after her shift finished. "Sir, don't you think it's about time for you to head out? I don't mean to intrude but your partner did get off of work about two hours ago, correct?" She asks looking at her watch.

Two hours? He looks back at the clock. His stomach drops automatically, you must be worried about him. Tenya's never more than an hour late from work, except on nights he tells you he'll be working late.

"Oh my, I suppose I should get home.. I didn't realize how much time has passed by." Truth is, he's not ready to go home. There are already about twenty five different failed scenarios he can think of at the top of his head.

The secretary notices this and she gives him a soft smile, "I'm sure they'll say yes, sir. You guys have been together for six years now and for as long as I've worked for you I haven't seen your partner's love waver." He should be comforted by her words but he's too caught up in his thoughts to feel any comfort.

"I can't do it tonight. I wanted to take them out for dinner and do it afterwards but it's too late tonight. I think I'll aim for this weekend." He sighs quietly. This is the 8th time he's failed to propose to you. He really has been trying, but it's so.. hard.

You're amazing in so many ways and such a kind hearted person. At the same time you can be strict and helpful. You're absolutely everything Tenya's wanted and needed in his life, so it's hard. He doesn't want to propose to you only for you to deny him.

These thoughts shouldn't consume him because he knows you love him. You've given him plenty of your firsts, and him the same. That ugly little voice in the back of his mind won't leave him alone though. It's the same voice that made him think avenging his brother for Stain's wrong doing was okay. The same voice that told him it was okay to dress up as a civilian in order to save Bakugo. The same voice that gets him into so much trouble.

"Good night, Ms. Suzuki." He says waving in her direction as he packs every thing in his brief case.

"Good night, Sir, you've got this." She says, and he sucks in a breath as her heels click away from his office.

Does he have this?

He doesn't remember much, doesn't even remember driving home. Yet here he is unlocking the door. Upon opening it he can see the soft glow of the TV in the living room. The smell of take out reaches his nose and he immediately relaxes.

"I'm home, baby." He says loud enough for you to hear. His eyes soften as you jump up off the couch to greet him.

"And where were you at mister?" There's a smirk covering your face and he opens his arms to embrace you in a hug.

"Work," he sighs before continuing, "I didn't notice the time until Ms. Suzuki mentioned it." He hears you click your tongue. He feels so at home with your arms wrapped around his neck.

"If you keep overworking that poor lady she might just quit." He smiles at your lecture.

"I know, I know. Tell me about your day? I'm not feeling too good." He says quietly.

"Sick?" You ask checking his forehead. He shakes his head 'no'.

"I just feel like shit right now." He slumps slightly. Your eyes soften and you lead him to the table for some dinner.

He listens to you talk about your promotion and how one of your co workers pulled you aside to tell you that you did not deserve your new position.

"Congratulations, my dear. I wish I could have bought you some flowers. I didn't receive your messages, because I had my personal phone off today. Also don't take their word to heart, they're just jealous of you." He picks up some noodles with his chopsticks.

"It's nothing to worry about Tenya, I promise. Also I know they were jealous but it's still hard to ignore. What about you? How was your day?" He wants to tell you, he really does. He wants to tell you about how much he's struggled to propose to you these last few weeks but he doesn't.

"Nothing really interesting happened today, just the usual." You can tell there's something he's not telling you but instead of prying you nod your head. If he wants to tell you he will.

It's been about four days since then and Tenya is sitting in his brother's home holding his nephew.

"Uncle Tenya?" The small child asks.

"Yes, Hachiro?" He looks just like his mother Tenya thinks. The only feature the little boy did get from Tensei was his red eyes.

"When will you marry [name]? I want a cousin." Tenya's first question is does he know how kids are made?

"Well, um. I'm not sure. I haven't asked them yet. What do you mean you want a cousin?" He asks the child to elaborate.

"Well I mean my mommy and daddy had me somehow so you and [name] can get me a cousin, right? I want someone to play with." He sounds sincere and it makes his heart tug a little bit. Hachiro is absolutely adorable.

"Don't bother your uncle with such questions, your friend is here for your playdate." Tensei says to Hachiro who immediately hops out of Tenya's lap to run down the stairs where his mother and best friend await him.

"That kid, he's something alright." Tensei chuckles sitting down with two cups of tea.

"Thank you for letting me come over on such short notice." Tenya's stressed because he believes tomorrow is the day he will actually ask the question.

"Of course, what's up little bro?" Tensei sips at his tea.

"I think tomorrow- tomorrow I'm going to do it. For real this time." His breathing becomes shaky and his brother's eyes light up.

"You can do it, Tenya. Let me tell you from experience, it won't be a perfect fairytale proposal but in the end it will work out. When I decided to marry Maria it was so awkward because I had to have our translator there to tell her what I was saying. Since then, I've been learning english. She loves to look back and laugh at our engagement though." He says with a smile.

Tenya thinks to the day his brother called him and told him that he asked Maria to marry him. Tenya asked him if he learned the phrase in english to which he responded with "um... our translator was there to tell her what I was saying and vice versa." He thought it was the silliest thing he'd ever heard.

"Basically my proposal can't be worse than yours?" Tenya asks with a smirk to which is brother playfully punches his shoulder.

"That is not what I said you little brat." The two break into laughter and Tenya feels much lighter.

"I've got to go get things set up." He responds standing up. His brother also stands up and the two hug each other.

"Call me and tell me how it goes afterward!" He nods and on the way out he tells his nephew and sister in law goodbye.

You were still at work by the time Tenya got home. He calls your favorite restaurant. In order to ask of a special request. He knows they don't do reservations but he wants to know if he can make an exception for this special moment.

"Sorry sir, we don't do reservations. It's a policy." The woman over the phone says and he's crushed.

Suddenly he has the idea to order out, "Can I call back tomorrow and place an order for pick up?"

"You most certainly can, Sir!" Her voice has no hatred just pure kindness.

"Alright, thank you. Goodbye." As soon as she says bye back to him he hangs up quickly forming a plan. He'll order your favorite food to go and set up a cute date at your favorite park, then when you're finished eating, the two of you will walk over to the water fountain you met at and he'll get down on one knee for you.

It's simple, he'd really love to go all out but he can't bear the stress of something potentially going wrong.

He hopes you'll like it.

He asked you to meet up at the park you used to frequent when you guys first started dating.

He's shaking slightly, while looking at the placement of the rose petals and candles. He'd sent a picture to his brother and Midoriya for assurance. Both told him it looked really good.

He's dressed in a blue button down and black slacks, not too fancy but not plain.

He sees you walk up to the table, a smile finds its way to your face and your eyes sparkle.

"What's all of this?" You ask. He helps you sit down on the wooden bench. You take in the beautifully set table. It's slightly windy but you don't mind.

"Um. I- i uh you know. Felt like we haven't been on a proper date in awhile so decided to set up a little something."

"Well you've out done yourself, baby. This looks so pretty." A little bit of stress is lifted off his shoulders. He's happy to hear you compliment his work.

The two of you eat your favorite food. You happen to notice another white box that sits closer to the end of the table.

"Ooooo, is that the cake I like from that place?" You ask pointing at the box. He nods quickly. His face flushes slightly when he sees you smile. It warms his heart.

"It is." You look into his red eyes trying to find the true meaning of this date, but your boyfriend is good at keeping his composure.

You won't give up much to his dismay, "This must be a very special dinner if you got me this cake." He shakes his head and shrugs.

"I promise it's nothing out of the ordinary." He calmly baits you into a different topic of some of your favorite foods which you go on about for twenty seven minutes. Yes, he was counting.

"Are you ready for cake?" He shouldn't even have to ask because he already knows the answer but he asks anyway.

"Of course I want cake! Can I cut it?" Tenya's calm demeanor drops right at that moment. He's starting to panic because he didn't bring a knife for the cake. It's only a minor inconvenience but still causes him to doubt himself.

"I'm guessing you didn't bring a knife, huh? It's alright, I'll cut it with the end of the fork!" You scooch over to grab the box, mouth watering at the thought of your favorite cake.

"You sure? I could run down to the nearest convenience store and-"

"Relax, honey, you're over thinking this. We won't die, I promise." Your words ground him. He takes deep breathes until he's calm again.

"Right. Sorry my love." The disappointment on his face causes you to frown.

"Aw come on, don't apologize. I promise it's fine." You cup his chin with your free hand and he leans into the touch with a small smile.

"Are we walking to the fountain? I'm stuffed, I don't wanna walk too far." He nods at your question. He's smiling like a teenaged boy and you're wondering what he's up too.

With your hands intertwined and the cool wind hitting your face, you feel content. There's no place on earth you'd rather be than right here.

The beautiful fountain where you met Tenya was close in sight. You could see the lights that were placed inside of it shining brightly.

There's a small thunk that reaches your ears and you turn around thinking you might have dropped something.

When you stop to turn around, you notice a small velvety box that had fallen to the ground.. it must be Tenya's.

"Tenya, wait. You dropped something." He turns around to see what it is and when he does all the color drains from his face.

"Fuck... fuck! The one time everything needs to be perfect I fuck it up." He says cursing himself. You realize what the box is and a giddy feeling takes over.

"Tenya, please calm down. It's okay I'll pretend I didn't see it." You say closing your eyes. It makes him chuckle a little bit to see you act so innocent.

"I appreciate the effort but the surprise is ruined..." He sighs and rubs his face roughly.

"Tenyaaaa. Were you going to take me where we first met and propose?" You ask with a wobbly smile.

"Mhm." You can tell he's upset over it being "ruined" but this is about the happiest day of your life. He's so sweet and thoughtful and knowing him he's probably been stressing this for a long time.

"My poor boyfriend stressing this moment, oh come here baby." You stretch your arms out for a hug and he doesn't hesitate to hug you back.

"Yes, by the way." You whisper into his ear and he scoffs playfully.

"I can I ask the question first?" You roll your eyes the stray tears falling onto his shirt.

"[name], I can't even lie I've been stressing this moment for the past couple of weeks. Let me tell you it has NOT been easy. I've consulted to my brother and Midoriya countless times in order to ensure a perfect proposal and if I'm being honest I should have taken Tensei's advice of 'it won't be perfect' it would have saved me a lot of stress.... but, would you do the honor of marrying me, being my equal, and staying with me through any and everything?" His voice is shaky and he's blushing so hard that you want a picture to show to everyone.

"Yes! Yes I will. WOOP WOOP. He likes it so he's about to put a ring on it!!!" You yell in excitement to no one in particular.

He's crying and laughing at how silly you are.

"I don't know what I was so afraid of."

"Me either!" You agree.

#bnha #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #tenya iida #tenya x reader #tenya iida x reader #iida x reader #mha iida #mha tenya iida #bnha tenya #bnha iida #mha fluff #bnha fluff #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x gn!reader #mha x gender neutral reader

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: "Is she staying in the picture?"... because Buck's not going anywhere!

In a recent article, RG was asked about M and his response was:

His response was similar to all his other answers regarding the status of Eddie's "relationship" with M or the lack thereof which could mean they will not be doing whatever they are or were attempting to do for long.

Also, as I included in a previous post (linked here), the colors of the t-shirt and hoodie Chris wore in 6x18 when Eddie was talking on the phone with M, illustrated something different than what he said about "Why is he so bad at this?" It showed that Chris is not ok with Eddie dating her, probably since he doesn't know her.

When asked what Chris thinks of Eddie's relationships, RG responded...

I've also stated in other posts that whoever Eddie dates, they have to love both him and Chris and so far, the only person who fits that description is Buck!

Let's talk about M shall we?

In season 6, before 6x17 aired, I included in a post (linked here) that Eddie saw the way M looked at her brother in 6x5 with raised eyebrows and he witnessed the same thing the audience did... a sibling relationship that reminded him of that "Folgers TV commercial" from the 1980s. Also, reminder, most viewers didn't even remember who she was and based on several comments that were posted on social media both after the episode aired and recently, a lot of them still don't. Additionally, she doesn't have a last name (neither does Connor and Kameron but I'll elaborate on that in another post) so that illustrates how much the show cares about her character.

In this post, I'm elaborating more on the previous one and I'm taking things one step further by looking at the totality of Eddie's interactions with her in S6 and providing my opinion at the end.

In 6x5, when the 118 arrived at M's home, Eddie didn't really even look at her, so it was interesting to see him do a double take later in the season.

After they freed her brother from her attic, they put him in the ambulance and she rode with them to the hospital. This is the scene where Eddie peeped the fact that she might be in love with her brother and the looks on Eddie's and Chimney's faces were priceless. It's also the scene that prompted many comments from the audience about M's interaction with her brother.

Later, in the same episode, Buck and Eddie returned with some additional firefighters (???) to help her repair her ceiling but please look at Eddie, he's wearing shades but IT WAS CLOUDY, THEREFORE THE SUN WAS NOT SHINING. Why was he wearing them when no one else was? Also, he arrived with Buck and they were looking at each other the same way they always do with Buck looking over his shoulder at Eddie (post linked here).

In 6x17, when he saw her at the hardware store, he was there looking for something for Chris the same way he had been the last two times with SD and AF instead of him looking for something for himself (post linked here).

In 4x13, Carla told him, "BE SURE YOU'RE FOLLOWING YOUR HEART AND NOT CHRISTOPHER'S, OK!" But it was more than two years later and he was still searching for the person who loves both him and Chris even though he was right in front of him. That person is Buck.

In 6x18, when he was thinking about texting her, the scene where he got her number was never shown and viewers were trying to figure out when it happened. Reminder, in 6x5 Buck was there too and if he had gotten her number then, Buck would have said something when they were at the cemetery in 6x15 but he didn't.

Later, when he finally did call, he said, "It's Eddie from the hardware store" and the reason he said it like that was because he told Buck in 6x15 that it never works out with someone they meet on a call. Well, Eddie in fact did meet her on a call which means their relationship or whatever... is/was DOOMED from the start just like Buck's was with N.

Now I have many thoughts about his interactions with M but I'll share the one I believe is the most relevant and the most important. When Eddie first met her, he didn't even notice her and later during the ambulance ride, he SAW the way she interacted with her brother, hence his raised eyebrows. Both him and Chimney were like WTF is this? And the audience felt the same way when we saw it too.

M is not memorable and most people had completely forgotten about her and the episode she first appeared in which I think was the point that was being made by 9-1-1. Nothing had changed about her from 6x5 to 6x17 so what exactly did he SEE months later that he didn't see before?

IMO, when Eddie saw her in 6x17, based solely on what he saw in 6x5 (the way she acted with her brother), he may have thought asking her out wouldn't be a big deal and it wouldn't go anywhere so he didn't have to worry about them getting too serious. And, the double take he did later in 6x17 when he bumped into her at the hardware store kind of proves it. Also, since he told Buck while they were at the cemetery, "Really? Dating someone you rescued? You know that never ends well!"; it appears they both knew that to be true but for whatever reason, they attempted to date M and N anyway (I have thoughts about this too and they're related to their conversation and other things that happened during season 6).

The point of this post is to highlight the possibility that Eddie knew going in with M that it wouldn't get too serious and it would end quickly. Now some people have created a whole life for Eddie and M even though he's only known her for a few weeks or a couple of months tops (depending on the time jump which is practically nonexistent). Please understand Eddie's number one priority is Chris and his number two is Buck, therefore M is so far down on the totem pole that anything she suggests about his son, his Buck, his job or his life would be laughed at by Eddie and viewers too and RG's comment about "if she's in the picture" kind of proves that point.

Let's talk about Buck, the love of Eddie's life shall we?

Eddie's relationship with Buck is a once in a lifetime, love of their lives, soulmate type of love that transcends space and time. I've said it numerous times (linked here) and I'll continue to say and scream it because they're in love with each other and NO ONE (no random love interest or hookup) will ever be able to give them what they've continued to share with each other for the past five years. Buck's definition of love in 5x18 described everything he already has with Eddie and Eddie putting Buck in his will as Chris' legal guardian was the second time he gave him his heart. Buck gave Eddie his heart too in 5x14.

In RG's most recent interview, he confirmed Eddie loves Buck and not only does he love him, he said, "I love you to the core!"

If that's not a soulmate, love of my life type of love then, I don't know what is.

Reminder, not only is M not in the picture, she's also NOT EVEN IN THE HOUSE. Even though AF stayed at Eddie's house during the blackout, he broke up with her after Buck told him he should🤪😜. Then he went home and told AF, "Maybe you should go home first" (I still LOL at that moment to this day). I wonder what he's going to say to M? Something like "Maybe you should go back to the hardware store." I know he won't but if he did, it would be EPIC.

They're in love your honor!

Anyway, please remember Buck's not only been in the house but Eddie's home is his home too because Buck's not a guest there (post linked here).

Buck and Eddie have keys to each other's places (they've had them for years).

Furthermore, Eddie's couch is Buck's couch too and he's slept on it many times.

He's everything Eddie's been searching for in a partner and all he's been waiting for is for Buck to get it.

Will Buck finally realize Eddie gave him his heart years ago or will it be more wash, rinse and repeat scenes with both of them "looking for love in all the wrong places with too many faces?" (It's a song lyric.)

From the way OS talks about how much Buck loves Eddie and the way RG talks about how Eddie loves Buck, maybe, just maybe Season 7 will be the one that they finally go CANON but only the showrunner, writers and producers know if they will.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #911 season 7 #911 season 7 speculation #911 on abc #911 abc #911 meta #911 spoilers #911 speculation #ryan guzman #oliver stark #anti marisol

[sapphic-agent]

Rewriting the Gaang in LOK

Basically how I would have written the adult Gaang. Pretend the comics as they are don't exist.

Katara: Breaks up with Aang sometime post-finale to do some soul-searching. Travels the world on her own and sees how people are struggling after the war. After talking (beating) some sense into a few government officials, she realizes that the best way to help people post-war is through politics. She becomes an (unofficial) ambassador, helping and negotiating aid for small villages that tend to get overlooked and does this for a number of years. She joins up with Zuko and Aang after they found the United Republic of Nations and becomes Councilwoman Katara, representative of the Southern Water Tribe. She eventually gets voted chairwoman due to her passion to improve the lives of the citizens (and because her fellow council members are too scared to vote against her). She heals on the side when she needs to, but only out of obligation since she can't stand to see people suffer; she puts much more effort into getting raising funds for a hospital full of healers. A few years later, Haru moves to Republic City and is just as awestruck by her as he was the day they met (the pornstache has been removed by divine intervention). They meet up a couple of times; for drinks after work, walks around the city, and they even attend a few galas together. They eventually start dating and get married two years later. They have their first daughter Kya (who's an earthbender), a son- Tyro (who's a nonbender), and another daughter Suma (who's a waterbender). They live a happy, peaceful (if you could call Katara stopping the occasional criminal before the police peaceful) life together where their children are well-loved and as part of the Southern Water Tribe as they are the Earth Kingdom. Aang's death hits their family hard, but they all come together and support each other. Katara personally mentors Korra, even convincing her family move to Republic City so that the Avatar knows the people she's meant to protect (the White Lotus protests, they fail❤️). She teaches Korra Waterbending, but also teaches her empathy and appreciation for other cultures (and that sometimes, selfish world leaders need a good punch to the face, a lesson Korra took to heart even though she absolutely wasn't supposed to see it).

Aang: Is torn up after Katara breaks up with him. He's hurt and confused and doesn't know what to do with himself. He retreats to Ba Sing Se where he talks with Iroh and learns that he unfairly pushed his feelings onto Katara. Wracked with guilt at hurting someone he cares about so much, Aang realizes that he has a lot of growing up to do. He focuses on his job as the Avatar, working closely with Zuko, Kuei, and the other leaders to heal the world after the war. The first time he sees Katara again is when she arrives to help with the United Republic of Nations. He apologizes to her and Katara forgives him, promising they'll always be best friends. His role in Republic City is more or less the same, though at some point he develops feelings for Toph. But he fears doing to her what he had done to Katara, so he tries to ignore them. But Toph, never one to beat around the bush, point-blank asks him if he's ever gonna man-up and confess to her. They start dating, and Lin comes a few months later as a surprise. They have their hiccups- Aang especially needing to reconcile with the fact that there's a chance she might not be an Airbender- but they manage to resolve them. Lin is an Earthender, of course, but Aang loves his little girl to pieces (which is good, because Toph would kill him if she suspected otherwise). Tenzin is born three years later, an Airbender, and Su Yin is born two years after that as an Earthbender. Lastly there's Bumi, a nonbender. There's always the urge to favor Tenzin, but Aang knows he can't. They're all his children and they deserve to be treated as such. So he teaches them all about their culture, takes them all on trips. The kids fight, but Aang is always quick to help resolve it (as it turns out, getting Lin and Su to stop fighting is a lot harder than getting the four nations to get along, go figure). Aang loves his wife and kids and wouldn't trade any of them for the world. He dies peacefully at age 66, surrounded by his children and the love of his life.

Sokka: Fucking hates politics. He'll leave the negotiating and speeches to his sister, thank you very much. If the room of government officials isn't a war room, he wants no part in it. After the war, he spends most of his time in the Southern Water Tribe. He works with his father to rebuild and relearn their culture, and writes frequent letters to his sister. Though, something about his life in the south is unfulfilling. Maybe he misses Suki, but there's something about inventing that calls to him. He can't do much of that in the south pole, so he leaves for the Earth Kingdom, helping villages struggling with heat, agriculture, transportation, etc. In the United Republic of Nations, he becomes lead engineer of the city, utilizing bending to make quick technological advances. He and Suki reunite in Republic City where Suki becomes the police chief. They get back together and have a daughter, Lian. The three of them live a simple life together, until Suki gets gravely injured in the line of duty when Lian is twenty. They decide to retire to the Southern Water Tribe where Sokka takes over for Hakoda as chief and prepares Lian to take over for him.

Toph: When Toph hears that Twinkle Toes and Sparky finally started that fancy new city, she thinks it's the perfect opportunity to cause a little chaos. Closing her metalbending school, she decides to relive her days as the Blind Bandit by founding pro-bending (thanks @ecoterrorist-katara for the idea!). Zuko's a hater and tries to shut it down because "safety," but finds no help in Aang who really, really loves the idea. He goes to every one of her matches and Toph feels both smug pride and... Something else. But she tells herself it would never happen, Twinkle Toes likes girls like Sugar Queen and she was the furthest thing from that. But she isn't totally oblivious, she can feel his heartbeat pick up when he's around her and how he's started to stutter when he's talking to her. So she bites the bullet and they start happily dating. But the arrival of Lin uncovers issues she didn't even know were there. Lin cries loudly and for Toph who relies heavily on her sense of hearing, it's hell. She was also unprepared for how much her body would change. She finds herself not wanting to be around her daughter. But Aang realizes this and urges her to talk to someone. After some arguing, she does. Aang is attentive, so Toph can take breaks when she needs to and Katara and Suki are always ready to get her out of the house when she's overwhelmed. Things with Lin get better and when Tenzin comes around she doesn't suffer nearly as much. Su Yin is similar. It's hard with Bumi because she's older, but Aang and her friends are there to support her. Toph can be distant with her children- her closely monitored childhood always present in her mind- but sees how Aang can be doting and allow their kids freedom. She follows by his example, trying to find a balance between hovering and absence. Aang's death is the worst day of her life- she was there, she felt his heart stop- and she retreats into the swamp for a while to grieve. But she returns to Republic City when Katara begins to mentor the new Avatar. Not to be outdone by Sugar Queen, she becomes Korra's second teacher. It's hard to be around Korra sometimes, but she likes the girl's spunk and attitude, even if she is a brat.

Zuko: Zuko struggles after the war. The obligations of the Fire Lord are crushing and daunting and the fear of turning into his father feels like it's constantly looming over his head. Mai doesn't understand why he's struggling so much and he can't figure out how to explain it to her, so they break up. She goes to Kyoshi Island to spend time with Ty Lee and figure out what she wants in life. Stressed, burnt-out, and heartbroken, Zuko asks Aang to kill him if he ever starts to act like Ozai, but Aang steadfastly refuses, berating him for even suggesting it. Aang assures him that he'll never turn into his father and that he has his friends to rely on. He follows after Aang to Ba Sing Se, working in his uncle's tea shop as a much needed break. He opens up to Iroh about his fears and Iroh affirms that even having these worries proves that he'll never be Ozai. He spends time in Ba Sing Se working in the tea shop and negotiating with the Earth King when he meets Jin again. She's as carefree as she was back then and Zuko is both envious and in awe of it. But he knows he can't have a relationship with her, he can't burden her with his problems. But Jin is gently persistent, lending an ear when he needs one and assuring him that he isn't burdening her. When she asks him if he wants to be with her, he confesses that he does- more than anything- but also admits that he has no idea how it'll work. She tells him that if they want to be together no one should stop them. A year later, they're married and she's crowned Fire Lady Jin. There are some protests to their relationship from traditionalists, but Ambassador Katara (Zuko is so sure that she was never actually given that title, but he can't prove it) is quick to shut them down citing that the Fire Lord marrying an Earth Kingdom girl is a sign of unity. They have their daughter, Izumi, and she's Zuko's entire world. Zuko's greatest fear is that his children will end up like him and Azula, so he refrains from having more kids. Jin respects this, but urges him to talk to Azula. So he does; his sister curses him out, but seems to enjoy his company in her own way. They'll never have a good relationship, but Zuko doesn't want her to feel alone so he makes time at least once a week. It's shortly after Aang's death that Zuko relinquishes the title of Fire Lord to Izumi, his grief over his lifetime friend far too painful. Eventually, though, Katara and Toph bully him into training the new Avatar. It's not a role for a retired Fire Lord, but Zuko knows that the world needs Korra to be strong and it's his responsibility to make that happen as much as he can. And so, he becomes Avatar Korra's third teacher (if you told him 60 years ago that he'd become the Avatar's most sane instructor, he'd think you were high on cactus juice. But with Katara punching dictators in the face and Toph breaking every rule ever written, someone has to be a good influence).

Occupations if you missed them:

Katara: (Unofficial/Self-proclaimed) Ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe, United Republic of Nations Councilwoman and later Chairwoman, Healer (on the side), Waterbending Master to the Avatar

Aang: Avatar, United Republic of Nations Councilman

Sokka: Engineer and Inventor, Chief of the Southern Water Tribe

Toph: Pro-Bender, Manager of the Pro-Bending Arena, Earthbending Master to the Avatar

Zuko: Fire Lord, Firebending Master to the Avatar

Suki: Police Chief of Republic City (I'm sorry I didn't make a detailed background for her I got lazy, I promise I don't love her any less😭)

Defending my ship choices:

Harutara: Come on, y'all know what I'm about at this point. They're my everything, how could I not have them together? Plus, there's something really poetic about Haru falling for her as an adult the way he did as a teenager: watching her inspire those around her. I headcanon that he's enamoured with the sound of her voice because it's the voice that liberated him and his people and he attends all her speeches

Taang: I actually wasn't sure about this one. I'm not an active Taang shipper, but I do think they'd really balance each other out. Toph is the hard ass Aang needs to challenge him and Aang would bring out the softer side in her. Toph would never let Aang favor one kid over the other and Aang wouldn't let Toph neglect their kids. So looking at it like that, I felt them being together would be best for the story

Sukka: It's not as perfect in canon as people make it out to be, but I still love them. I wouldn't want any different for them

Jinko: This one actually made more sense than I would have thought. Jin is very different from Mai, so I can really see her being what Zuko needs considering where he would be mentally. I like Mai, but I feel Maiko really made her way more one dimensional so her living with Ty Lee and finding herself feels like a better end for her (and if they start dating, that's no one's business). And we've already seen Zuko go out of his way to make Jin happy so it's not like we're getting another Kataang situation. I'm happy with this for them

The Kids:

Yes, I purposely made Kya an Earthbender. And yes, Katara still gives her her mother's necklace. Because that's her firstborn daughter no matter what element she does (or doesn't) bend. One thing I hate is that Bryke made the Kataang kids primarily part of the culture that they bend. That's such a slap in the face to biracial kids, not to mention poor Bumi who doesn't seem to belong to either for some reason until he ends up an Airbender. So yeah, all of the Harutara kids are part of the EK and SWT. Suma is a name I made up because it sounded pretty

I know it's weird to think of Lin and Tenzin as siblings, I felt so odd writing it. But I love them both so I couldn't just not write them. I made Bumi the youngest so he could be spoiled because he deserved better in canon. Su and Lin have a better relationship, but they still butt heads because they feel the need to one-up each other due to them both being Earthbenders (and later Metalbenders). Lin still becomes a cop, but their big fight never happened because Su was never neglected to the point of becoming a criminal. All four kids are taught Air Nomad culture and traditions and taken on trips because Aang is a decent father

I named Lian partly after Yue, since Yuèliàng means moon in Chinese. One of my gripes with LOK is that Katara and Sokka's family are meant to be the leaders of the SWT. Kya or Bumi should be the chief in canon, but Bryke just... Didn't do that for some reason. So fuck it, Sokka's daughter is chief now

Nothing really changes about Izumi, although I'd say she's a little friendlier. I contemplated giving Zuko more kids, but I actually think his decision not to have more kids was one of Bryke's better choices. It makes sense, so I didn't feel the need to change it

Other notes:

The Gaang teaching/helping raise baby Korra is something I live for

The Red Lotus is swiftly dealt with by Katara, Toph, Zuko, Suki, and Sokka when Korra is a kid. They never stood a chance. I was actually going to have Sokka still die during the attack in the SWT and Suki kill Zaheer in revenge, but eh I decided not to off Sokka

The Civil War still happens, but differently. I don't have the patience to go into that, just know that Katara is HEAVILY involved

Welp, that's everything in my brain

#katara of the southern watertribe #avatar aang #sokka of the southern water tribe #toph beifong #fire lord zuko #lok rewrite #lok critical #ambassador katara #councilwoman katara #master katara #engineer sokka #pro bender toph #master toph #master zuko #police chief suki #aang critical #harutara #taang #sukka #jinko #anti kataang #anti maiko #katara deserved better #aang deserved better #bumi deserved better #everyone deserves better #avatar korra #tw ppd #tw depression #atla au

[carmyboobear]

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.

[thedrarrylibrarian]

hi!! I first off wanted to say THANK YOUU!! I came across your page abt two months ago when I needed new fics and I use your recs so often!! I was wondering, what are a few of your all-time favorite fics, if you had to choose? (:

Oh my goodness! I'm so glad to hear that you've been enjoying my blog! I can't believe I've been running this blog for 3 years today!

What a fun ask (I've been sitting on this so I could use it for today!) I really struggled to pick fics - or more accurately, not to pick ALL the fics! I picked fics that are my go to rereads - whether it's because they make me laugh or because they pull at my heartstrings, or because they're so hot, these are some of my personal favorites.

Cupboard Love by @shealwaysreads (4,184 words, rated G)

Cupboard Love: the psychoanalytic theory of an infant’s primary drive being food which, when satisfied, leads naturally to a secondary drive for attachment.

Harry’s life, and love, in food.

Still Warm, Still Warm by @tsauergrass (4,899 words, rated G)

Harry is up to something. Why else would he keep giving Draco presents?

Five Little Things by @bixgirl1 (6,197 words, rated T)

Harry was supposed to be good at this.

Headway by orphan_account (7,482 words, rated M)

“It’s called courting,” Draco spat suddenly, livid and red in the face. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand a single thing about it, actually Potter, since it’s formal, and there are rules, and neither of those are concepts you’d know anything about even if they took on human form and kicked you right in the fucking dick.”

The Exhale by spqr (7,506 words, rated T)

Hermione makes a soft, concerned sound. "Harry, look at this." She shows him an article with a photo, but the photo's not moving; it must be a Muggle newspaper. "NASA have just landed a rover on Mars. It's called Curiosity, and look, this is so--I don't know if it's sweet or sad, but--it's all alone out there, and they programmed it to sing itself Happy Birthday."

Nothing is wrong, but Harry starts crying.

Silverpoint by @tackytigerfic (8,836 words, rated E)

It seems fairly simple to you, but you know that you don't really understand love - how could you, after all? You've never known how to talk about it, but you've never had to before. Everyone you ended up loving has always understood. You've been able to show them, by fighting for them, dying for them.

That seems a bit much- after all, Malfoy just wants tea in bed and his cock in your mouth (not usually at the same time).

It's ok to love him, you reason with yourself - he doesn't have to know. No one ever has to know.

Quick as a Flash of Lightning, Unhurried as Eternity by @onbeinganangel and @babooshkart (10,000 words, rated E)

Can you fall in love with someone by simply watching them fiercely love another version of yourself?

The Way These Days Seem to Go (And Go) by @firethesound (15,230 words, rated T)

Stress baking isn’t a hobby Harry ever thought he’d pick up, but he’s surprised to find how much it helps him to get through those long months post-war. It keeps his hands busy, it keeps his mind occupied, and when Draco Malfoy steadily pushes his way back into Harry's life, it helps with that too.

Let him lead me to the banquet by @harryromper (16,066 words, rated T)

The worst part is Harry’s got no idea why Malfoy keeps sending him invites. He’s never replied to a single one. And if the whole dinner is as exclusive and sought-after as the Prophet keeps breathlessly reporting, then presumably the only reason Malfoy wants him there is in his capacity as the Chosen One. So, really, he can fuck right off. Harry doesn’t care about Draco Malfoy’s redemption tour. And he’s certainly not going to help him with it.

Draco Malfoy Absolutely Does Not Need to Be Loved by Harry Bloody Potter by @nv-md (18,153 words, rated E)

It’s not easy to be bonded to your childhood rival, turned fuckbuddy, who you also have extremely uncomfortable but repressed feelings for—just ask Draco Malfoy.

When You Kiss Me (What A Lovely Way to Burn) by @femmequixotic (22,167 words, rated E)

A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough.

In the dark, the light by phrynne (32,203 words, rated E)

‘Potter… It’s Malfoy. Do you still want this?’ It started like that. Malfoy’s breath on his ear, his voice low, hot against his skin. Harry shivered, though he could feel the heat from Malfoy’s body just behind him, too close, but not touching him. Even if he could. For the rest of the night, he could do whatever the hell he wanted with Harry.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (36,733 words, rated E)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Draco is a secret werewolf and Harry is doing his best and they've got criminals to catch, darn it.

Boiling Point by @goldentruth813 (42,882 words, rated M)

After an Auror raid gone wrong, Draco ends up trapped in a dodgy safehouse with nothing but Harry Potter’s dubious company and a dwindling supply of food. With only each other and the walls surrounding them, they're forced to confront their past and their feelings which have long been threatening to boil over.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (103,395 words, rated T)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Grounds for Divorce by @tepre (122,217 words, rated E)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

What We Pretend We Can't See by @gyzym (131,086 words, rated M)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Love forever,

The Drarry Librarian

#my favorites #my favorite fics #the drarry librarian's favorite fics #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry x draco #the drarry librarian #happy blog anniversary to me! 3 years! #blog anniversary

[rhiaarrow]

Today I'm upcycling an old ramble from my notes!

Obviously it's all personal interpretation so feel free to chime in your own takes or correct me if you think I'm really far off with some egg 🙃

So without further ado, here are my personal headcanons of what each egg wears to sleep!

CHAYANNE -

Chayanne just sleeps in a t-shirt of any color and any color of sleep shorts, his ass does not care about pyjama colors just as long as they're comfortable.

He normally knocks out as soon as his head hits the pillow anyway so he couldn't care less what he's wearing and would happily sleep in his regular clothes some days.

Sometimes Phil will braid the top section of Chayanne's hair too after he braids Tallulah's, just to keep it out of his face while he sleeps.

But it's a loose short braid and with the length of Chayanne's hair not all of it can actually make it into the braid so the bottom section always hangs loose regardless of the braid or not.

DAPPER -

Dapper wears a fancy black silk buttoned pyjama shirt with red decals and details but it's always paired with hideously patterned pyjama pants.

They could have anything on them! Cartoon zoo animals, Rainbow zigzags, Multicolor polka dots, Cartoon food items, Tie dyed, Animal print, Fruit print, Old grandma couch print, 80s arcade carpet print, they could just have faces all over them! Literally ANYTHING as long as it doesn't match the pyjama top (because it drives his Dad absolutely crazy and he loves it).

He also wears a pair of thick plain fluffy socks over his feet at night, since demons naturally run cold to deal with the heat of their home, which unfortunately means Dapper having a Demon as his parent (as well as Em and Pomme) gets cold feet during the night if they don't wear fluffy socks.

She also sleeps with her hair tied up in a loose protective bun on top of their head to keep most of it out of his mouth and eyes while he sleeps.

LEONARDA -

Leo sleeps in cartoon patterned pyjamas but not matching sets, ohhhh no, this girl wears pieces from 2 completely separate sets which do not match at all.

For example she might wear bright blue and red spiderman pyjama bottoms paired with a pale purple pyjama shirt with a giant cartoon panda in the middle or a pair of rainbow striped MLP pyjama bottoms with a pyjama shirt covered in hundreds of close up Walter dog faces.

When she sleeps Leo leaves her hair loose to go absolutely everywhere and does not brush it before bed even though her hair gets tangled easily.

Which unfortunately means her Pa Foolich has to help her brush out the hundreds of knots every single morning but Leo absolutely refuses to sleep with it tied up no matter how much he tries to convince her it'd be a good idea.

She also insists on wearing socks to bed every single night but immediately kicks them off as soon as she actually falls asleep which Foolish finds hilarious.

RAMÓN -

Ramón sleeps in a plain tank top and he used to just sleep in a pair of plain sweatpants like his Dad but nowadays he sleeps in a pair of blue pac man patterned pyjama bottoms that he absolutely totally 100% did not steal from Pac's washing line outside his house.

The drawstrings are always tied to keep them up, since they're not kid sized, and he's clearly taken a pair of shears to the bottom but not re-hemmed them so there's loose threads everywhere (neither Fit or Pac makes a comment on it though, because as long as Ramón's happy they're happy so Pac just secretly sews up the hems and makes adjustments to the waistband while Ramon's with Fit and says nothing).

Ramón's hair is short enough that it doesn't make a difference how he wears it at night, it might stick up a bit in the morning from where he was laying on it but he wears the meathead all day so it doesn't matter and hell, Ramón would happily sleep in his meathead too if Fit would let him.

And obviously the moustache stays on while he's asleep, duh.

TALLULAH -

Tallulah wears a pair of black flannel pyjama pants and a short sleeved purple nightgown, which looks more like an oversized t-shirt but it has scallop hemmed edges that indicate that it is actually supposed to be down to her knees.

The purple nightgown has black and darker purple polka dots all over it and the hemming is done in black thread with a large cartoon skull decal on the center (that she doesn't really like because it looks too cartoonish).

Before she sleeps she brushes her hair and bangs and Phil braids it for her, into a neat and very tight French braid (or two braids depending on what he feels like) to keep it from going crazy while she sleeps.

And obviously when she goes to sleep her hearing aids are removed and put in a little box that she keeps on the windowsill above their big family bed so she can easily reach them in the morning.

RICHARLYSON -

Richarlyson sleeps in only a pair of sleep shorts, a variety of colors depending which house he sleeps in, right now it's been either red for Pai Cellbit, green for Pai Mike or black for Tio Bad since they're the only houses he's actually slept at so far (but he has blue shorts prepared for when they stay over at Pai Pac's and pink for staying with Mae Bagi).

He takes off the football shirt to sleep and no matter how many times her parents ask them to put on a pyjama shirt she doesn't, Richas just sleeps half naked because he can.

He also has a silk hair bonnet that he really should wear to bed every night but he doesn't like it, well no, they like it slightly better now that Pac sewed the outside to be mushroom patterned like her regular hat but he still doesn't wear it every single night no matter how many times her parents ask him to.

Obviously when he sleeps they have to remove his prosthetic leg so he sleeps with only a protective compression sleeve over their stump (like Pai Pac) and her leg just lies beside her bed, he has a prosthetic stand he's supposed to use for it, but again he doesn't do it every night regardless of her parents reminding him.

POMME -

Pomme wears one of the pretty matching pyjama sets, the ones with a cute graphic on the shirt and then that design is patterned smaller all over the bottoms.

She sleeps in a long sleeved pyjama shirt with red sleeves and a white chest with a green apple decal in the middle, paired with green pyjama trousers (the same shade as the decal) with red apples (the same as her sleeves) and white polka dots patterned on them.

Pomme also wears a pair of thick knitted socks every night because her feet get cold, these aren't intentionally matching her pyjamas but since it was Etoiles that knitted them back when he was the 'wool warrior' after losing to the code, they're all either one of the French flag colors or green so they match unless she wears the blue ones.

Her hair is neatly brushed by one of her parents and in a loose braid (or braids) that inevitably falls out overnight, but she won't sleep if it's tied too tight and she doesn't like having her hair tickling her while she tries to get to sleep, she honestly doesn't care what state it's in when she wakes up she can cover some of it with her beret anyway.

EMPANADA -

Empanada sleeps in a long sleeved ankle length nightgown with frilly edges and bow details, the full works.

The nightgown is a brown and pink tartan with white lace frills around the edges of the nightgown and down the seams and it's got little pink bows where they're necessary.

She also wears thick socks with grippy silicone bottoms while getting ready for bed so her feet don't get dirty or cold, but she doesn't wear them in bed, she takes them off and leaves them beside her bed so she can put them back on when she wakes up.

To actually sleep in she wears non grippy fluffy socks which she keeps in her bedside table drawer and they all have cute little kitty patterns on them since Bagi bought them in bulk when she learnt Em got cold feet during the night.

She sleeps with her hair left loose on the pillows but unlike Leo it doesn't go crazy overnight since Empanada is the kind of little girl who brushes her hair 100 times by herself before bed and brushes it another 100 times when she hears Bagi wake up in the room above hers so that it's always neat by the time her Mamae comes to get her in the morning.

SUNNY -

In the early days Tubbo didn't have kids pyjamas and he was too proud to ask another parent for a spare set so Sunny slept in one of Tubbo's shirts like a nightgown, unfortunately for Tubbo, she still does it now even after he's bought them pyjama sets in every color under the sun.

So every night Sunny sleeps in a stolen shirt of Tubbo's that comes down to her knees and the neck hangs off her shoulders a little, with a pair of pyjama pants and a plain vest top underneath.

Obviously she changes the color of the pants every single night in no particular rotation to wear all the fancy pyjama sets her Pa bought her to try and stop her stealing his shirts (it didn't work).

They also sleep with a orange and yellow striped silk bonnet on every single night to protect their hair so that she always looks good in the mornings even before her Pa does her hair for the day.

She obviously takes off her sunglasses to sleep but she replaces them with an orange sleep mask with 'SUNNY' bedazzled on the front in blue diamantes because if she doesn't wear the sleep mask then everything is way too bright when they're trying to sleep since they wear sunglasses all day.

PEPITO -

Pepito sleeps in a crew necked red and white striped onesie with grippy feet covers so Pepito doesn't fall over.

Pepito's hair is usually fine when Pepito sleeps but Pepito occasionally gets crazy bed head, but all Pepito does on those mornings is brush it out as much as Pepito can and put on a bandana or a beanie along with Pepito's glasses and gasmask so Pepito can try to make it look like a purposeful style choice (it works about 30% of the time).

CHUNSIK -

Chunsik always sleeps in an animal onesie, his Dad originally dressed him in a crocodile one but then his Mom bought him a shark one and they fight over which one he wears each night.

Chunsik doesn't care though, he's just happy to have two onesies now, and both of them have sharp teeth on the hood and a tail on the butt and he just thinks that's awesome!

His hair gets a little messed up from sleeping in the hoods but it doesn't get tangled easily so it's easy to brush it out in the morning before he puts on his hat.

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp sunny #qsmp chayanne #qsmp dapper #qsmp leonarda #qsmp ramon #qsmp tallulah #qsmp richarlyson #qsmp pomme #qsmp empanada #qsmp sunnysideup #qsmp pepito #qsmp chunsik #qsmp text post #qsmp headcanons #chayanne the egg #dapper the egg #leonarda the egg #ramon the egg #tallulah the egg #richarlyson the egg #pomme the egg #empanada the egg #sunny the egg #sunnysideup the egg #pepito the egg #chunsik the egg

[halfmoonshines]

I just saw that you write for doctor who and hotd too, although I don't know if you write for 11th and Daemon, I'll try my luck anyway…. I wonder if I could get a Daemon x wife poc!reader x 11th doctor in which Reader is Daemon's wife and one day she is taking a walk when she meets the doctor (she kind of mistakes him for Daem, if that makes sense) and after she realizes it's not him, they start talking and she is kind of fascinated by the doctor (not only by his appearance, but by his entire work). So she invites him to their house (whether it's the red keep or dragonstone, it's up to you) and Daemon, who has just returned from a walk with Caraxes sees reader with a man, previously unknown, and goes to them. Then reader introduces them and comments on the similarity between them. She suggests that they spend the day together and Dae is a little reluctant, but ends up accepting, so they go out and in the meantime reader and 11th are kind of flirting (in a innocent) and Daemon is jealous (which reader loves, because she loves to tease him) At the end of the day Daemon and 11th have a talk about how lucky he is to have her and that he should take care of her. Before leaving, the Doctor promises the reader that he will visit her again (this after she asked him to stay the night, but he refused) when the TARDIS disappears, reader tells Daemon that he doesn't need to be jealous, because She is his and only he has her love and then they kiss (if it's too much, feel free to ignore it) please? (sorry for my English)

okay this is definitely not too much because, from the detail, i know you've daydreamed this before and i absolutely love it and you basically wrote it for me, i just need to fluff it up!!! thank you so much

fic requests go here

daemon targaryen x reader x 11th doctor

summary; the curious man you met on your walk piques both your interest and daemon's inner green monster

unnerving

You would never admit it to your fiery paramour, but you much preferred Dragonstone over The Red Keep. The ocean scented wind was wild in your hair, wisps pulling free from your braids. You held your slippers in one hand and the hem of your dress in the other, reveling in the sand between your toes.

This had became a morning routine for you and Daemon, him to go and give Caraxes some exercise while you enjoy some time alone on the shoreline. Although, from the shoulders you could see on the bluff, it seems as though he finished up earlier than usual this morning.

You didn't care how long you'd spent with the young Targaryen man; you were never less excited to see him. The fire that started at your stomach and reached for your cheeks blazed just as brightly each time for him. You hurried your pace, climbing the short stone stairs to the outlook you beloved stood at.

"Daemo-" Your exclamation was cut a bit short by the realization that this man... was most certainly not Daemon.

From up close you could see the differences, namely being the short brown hair. This man also had a loose feeling to his stance, leaned against the small statue of Caraxes that overlooked the ocean. He was looking at you then, eyes the same hazel green but a different shade - lighter. A kindness illuminating and curiosity illuminating them that Daemon would be adverse to.

You finally had the good sense to be concerned. Dropping the hem of your gown and taking a step away, your smile was sheepish as you curtsied. "Pardon the interruption, Ser. I merely mistook you for my husband."

"Your husband must be a handsome fellow!" Their voices even mirrored each other. "You can call me the doctor! Not a doctor, just the Doctor. Do you happen to know where we are?" The twin emphasized his question with a vague gesture at their surroundings, eyebrows pinching together. "This is a new one for me."

You cocked your head to the side, curious as to his strange way of speaking. How does one come to be somewhere without knowing where there is?

"You're at Dragonstone on the Black Water Bay. The castle is just up the hill." You pointed up and watched his eyebrows raise.

"The castle? I love a good castle. Who's is that? Can we go take a peek?"

Your laugh was light, deciding that even if he didn't match your husband, you just might like the stranger. "It's my husband, Daemon Targaryen's, ancestral home. Let's go take a look, I'm sure he would be riveted to meet you."

---

Daemon thoroughly enjoyed the routine he had found with his wife. No other woman had ever come close to rooting themselves this deeply into his life, and the white haired man didn't think he would ever meet another that could.

You understood his boundaries and his need for space. You were fiercely independent, which made Daemon all the more happy to try and outdo himself for you. Knowing you could care for yourself either way.

Now that Daemon was thinking about it, as he was patting his dragon goodbye, he was going to hunt you down this minute from your expected place on the beach below and have his way with you. Wherever you stood.

How good it felt to be king in his lands.

Just as he turned to start his mission, your laughter could be heard from the other side of the overlook. Smirking to himself, wondering about his impeccable timing, he changed direction toward the sound of your voice.

That's when he heard it. Another voice. A mans voice?

Daemon's playful smile quickly fell, something only to be described as a snarl taking its place. His pace quickened, turning the corner by the stables just in time to see you crest the hill with a vaguely familiar man.

He shook his head, making straight for you. Familiarity didn't fucking matter. These were his lands, his home and his wife. Who in the living fuck was mingling with his wife, all alone on the beach?

"Darling." Daemon's voice was loud and firm, the endearment sounding strange from him. "Are you alright?"

Your attention was on your husband instantly, smile radiating like the rising sun behind you. "Daemon! We were just coming to find you. This is the Doctor, he is.. visiting? I thought you would like to meet."

Daemon had come to stand right before you when his hand reached to grip your arm, pulling you firmly but gently to his side. "Visiting is it, Doctor?"

Eleven was as unbothered as they come typically, but he could not deny that the man standing across from him was his carbon copy. Sans the long, luscious white locks. Should Eleven grow his hair out? "Visiting it is, mate! Your lovely wife thought we might have a few things in common."

Daemon did not like the insinuation that they were similar, even if the appearance may be glaringly obvious. "Is your brother a king and your dragon as fierce as mine, then?"

Feeling his standoffish posture, your hand made light circles on his back while your gaze reprimanded him. "Daemon, he's just here to-"

"I'm sorry but did you say you have a dragon? That is probably the most badass thing I've ever heard, and I've been just about everywhere." Eleven was smiling like a kid in a candy store, gaze searching the sky above them like a dragon was going to swoop in at any minute. "How does one, uhm, see this dragon?"

Daemon's pride and ego battled each other for a split second before he bit out a reply. "I suppose we could go and see the dragon pits, so you know what the Targaryens are so feared for."

"Oh, wonderful! They're beautiful, Doctor, you'll love them." Grasping your husbands hand in your own, you began leading them across the clearing.

The day went similarly.

Eleven was so excited about the baby dragons that he thought he might have to come back in the dead of night to take one for himself, but quickly realized there had to be some karmic justice for stealing from yourself, right? Because Daemon Targaryen had to be some weird extension of him, they were basically copy-pasted.

Daemon did not like the Doctor one bit, almost specifically because of the smile on your face that he felt should be reserved for him. The stranger could sing praises about Dragonstone all he wanted but it wouldn't distract him from the fact that his wife seemed utterly smitten with the man.

You were having fun. The Doctor was a funny man, asking the strangest things. Like 'How do you spell Targaryen?' and 'How long have you been a monarchy?'

"What's a monarchy?" You didn't understand what was so hilarious about your husbands reply, but the Doctor was laughing like a giddy child.

It wasn't very often that you got visitors here, especially considering Daemon's nefarious past. It was a nice change, and so was the green encroaching upon your husbands face.

Every time the Doctor said something particularly funny and you couldn't help the full belly laugh you gave, Daemon's eyes narrowed a bit more. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy his jealousy. The tightness around his eyes as he assessed whether or not you were having just too much fun with the other man.

You made sure to assuage him with kisses throughout the day, small pecks here and there to show your loyalty. But you definitely didn't stop laughing.

By the end of your adventures, with the sun kissing the rolling hills of the island, the Doctor decided that he liked you very much. You reminded him of Amy, sure headed and sparky. You seemed like you had a good life here, full of dragons and fantasy. This was definitely one that Eleven was going to tell River about.

"Are you sure you have to leave?" Daemon stood a mere few feet away from their goodbye, refusing to budge another inch. "The castle has plenty of rooms that can be made-"

"My dragons eat strangers at nightfall."

"Daemon. He doesn't mean that, you'd be more than welcome." You rolled your eyes at his typical bravado, keeping your eyes on the ones that matched his.

"I unfortunately have other engagements that need my attention tonight, Y/N. But I had a lovely day. Thank you for showing me your home." Eleven's smile was warm, and genuine. He would miss this little corner of the multiverse, he was sure of it.

"Maybe you can come and visit again?" Daemon's scoff of disbelief was ignored by both.

"I will definitely pop by again. I need to see little fiery breath all grown up! I'd like to chat with your husband for a moment, before I leave."

With your eyebrow raised, assessing the two men, you gave a nod of dissent. "I'll meet you inside, my love." You gave Daemon a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth and smiled one last time at your visitor. "It was nice to meet you, Doctor, I hope to see you again soon."

Daemon was going over the pros and cons of gutting this fucker like a fish as soon as you were out of earshot.

Pros. He would definitely enjoy it.

Cons. You might end up crying. He hated that.

"You've got a lovely home and wife, my friend."

"Yes I do." Daemon had been confused by this Doctor's intentions all day, but right now the man opposite him only exuded a positive energy.

"You care for her a great deal, that much is obvious. Good. Never stop. Those kinds of women only come around once in a lifetime." Eleven gave him a conspiratorial clap on the shoulder as he walked around the man.

Daemon opened his mouth to bite back a retort but was quickly silenced by the appearance of a strange blue box mere feet from them. "What in the fuck is that?"

Eleven snorted and laughed, giving TARDIS a pat this time as he opened the door. "Oh, it's just my ride. Much bigger on the inside. Name your next dragon Doctor Jr, please."

And with that he was gone, Daemon's head spinning while the chiming of the TARDIS's leaving faded into the sunset.

"That was incredibly strange."

The Targaryen startled just a bit, turning to face you. "What happened to awaiting me inside, wife?"

Your smirk was playful while your hands wrapped around his waist, chin tilted up to gaze at him. "And leave you alone with some stranger? What if he had ran you through?"

Daemon growled low in his chest, the same possessive need filling him at your touch as it always did. "Do you not believe me to be the better swordsman?"

"You know I like to see you get dirty." Your voice was dangerously low, pulling at the strings you knew he had tightest at the moment.

"Seems like you wouldn't have minded seeing The Doctor get dirty as well." Daemon Targaryen was many things but bitter was certainly not one of them. Until right this moment.

"Daemon." Your lips met his once, quickly. "My husband." Your lips returned to his, lingering this time in the want you could feel radiating from him. "King of my heart. I will never want anyone but you."

He pulled your head to his then, mouth forcing yours open in a bruising, claiming kiss.

"Let's get inside. There was something I wanted to do earlier."

---------

I tried!! let me know how ya liked it

masterlist

#doctor who fic #hotd fic #daemon targaryen x reader #11 x reader #doctor who #hotd #my works #daemon targaryen x f!reader #11 x f!reader #11th doctor x reader

[aihoshiino]

chapter 146 thoughts

This chapter (and thus this chapter review) contains discussion of abuse, suicidal ideation and CSA, so if you're not in the headspace for that, skip this one and I'll see you next time.

we are so oshi no back

After last chapter left me fighting for my life to come up with literally anything to say about it, this was one of those chapters where I ended up having more and more to say about it the more I turned it over in my head. It still feels a bit disjointed and has that same issue of ripping through the events of the movie way too fucking fast that the arc as a whole has been having lately but this chapter was such a breath of fresh air I can't bring myself to care.

The chapter itself is more or less split in two, with one half dedicated to 15 Year Lie's in-universe events and the other focusing a bit on Aqua and Kana for, tbh, the first time in way too long. Admittedly, my enthusiasm for 15YL has waned given the reveal of just how much of it is completely made up but like. I'm still gonna over analyze this stuff. Sunk cost fallacy, don't fail me now!!!!

I joke, but the 15YL section of this chapter was legitimately bone chilling. That barrage of cuts following Uehara's attack on Airi…. fuuuuuuuck, man.

Airi herself is pure fucking poison this chapter too and I mean it in the best way. I continue to be incredibly impressed with how OnK understands the motivations of a person like Airi what her abuse of Hikaru is really about. When discussing this in 141, Miyako points out just how often victims of abuse can themselves go on to perpetuate their own pain out of a need to try and regain their dignity, but I think what Airi seeks in her abuse of Hikaru is control. We see how often she wields her power over him while pretending that he has as much agency as she does in their """relationship""" and it's repeated here, too; she throws the results of her own sexual abuse of him in his face as a way of permanently chaining the two of them together, all while tearing down his worth as a person as if to 'prove' he deserves to be trapped in her grasp. I've said before that Akasaka is unsettlingly good at writing toxic mothers but I think Airi has made it pretty clear that Akasaka understands and is thus excellent at writing abuse and abusers in general, and for someone like me who counts that as one of their favourite Themes (tm) in fiction, I feel quite well fed.

The abuse Airi hurls at him is also interesting from a perspective of paralleling Hikaru even further with Ai. We saw snippets of this in 140, of Hikaru characterizing himself as someone desperately trying to construct a version of himself that can be loved by others the same way Ai creates 'Ai of B-Komachi', a version of herself who can give and receive love in the way she thinks her authentic self is unable to. Airi puts this into more explicit words; Hikaru must construct this fake version of himself because there is no 'real' him and thus, he is inherently unlovable. Jesus Christ.

Knowing those words were swimming around in his head, it makes the HKAI scene that follows even more of a gutpunch than it already is. It's the most wonderful kind of miscommunication tragedy - with their respective traumas, there is basically no other way a talk like that could have gone and yet it's agonizing to see it play out. Ai's innocent cruelty in the face of Hikaru's pain and her suffocating smile… the worst part is, while I completely understand why this was so shattering for Hikaru, it's impossible to miss that this was, in a way, an expression of love from Ai; it was honesty, an admission of vulnerability. She herself even says she doesn't want to lie to him. But to Hikaru, what else could that have sounded like but a confirmation of his most godawful fear?

that said. the timeline here is very confusing. this seems to imply hkai were still dating all the way up to the murder-suicide, which seemed to be just before the dome concert but did the breakup really seem that recent during their phone call?? this whole timeline is penised beyond repair.

The art in this chapter in general is incredibly good but something in particular I want to highlight is how much and how often Aqua-as-Hikaru looks like Ai in these panels. I can't put my finger on what it is, but that similarity always makes me feel so warm and sad whenever I see it. For as much as he struggles with his relationship to her, Aqua really is his mother's son through and through.

and. man. what even is there to say about that scene in the rain and everything that follows. I was't sure if the murder/suicide was going to be featured in the movie but even the brief snippet of it that we got and that barrage of scene titles and Kamiki's silent scream… whoof. shit like this makes me really hope we get to see mengo illustrate a horror manga someday because i think she would absolutely kill it.

We cut back to reality to see Aqua reading the script and in perhaps the most interesting swerve in this chapter, we see that he has once again reverted to his double black hoshigans. And uh, am I going to sound like a terrible person if I say I'm really glad for this? LOL.

Obviously I would rather Aqua not be experiencing Suicidal Ideation (Bass Boosted) 24/7, but it's kind of a relief to see that one single conversation wasn't enough to totally shake Aqua out of that headspace. I've talked a lot about how frustrating I find it that 'Ruby finds out Aqua is Gorou' is treated as the finale to her black hoshigan arc and every ongoing thread, internal and external, attached to it was dropped like a rock with no further interrogation. It robbed Ruby of the opportunity for some really important growth and, imo, was just shitty for Kana and Memcho who were treated extremely poorly by her and got no apology for it. I was really worried this would be the case for Aqua as well and that his own dip into that rancid headspace would end on a wet fart which would really sting given just how little insight we've gotten into him this arc. But this chapter makes it clear that while some cracks have started to form in his armor, he's not in the clear just yet.

i mean, even if he was permanently back to one white star, aqua is such a little freak regardless………………………….

What this means in the long term is a little hard to pin down, both because we've had so little insight into Aqua's headspace this arc and because the exact nature of black hoshigan as a symbol has always been a little Calvinballed, but in this context and for Aqua specifically, I think we can read this as his conviction in the messy endgame of his revenge play being shaken up. I, personally, have been reading the black hoshigan as of late as an expression of the sort of futureless despair that can become suicidal ideation, at least for Aqua; since immediately after Ai's death, we have gotten incredibly strong hints that Aqua is suicidal, his guilt-fueled desire to die and his desperate want to experience a happy future at war within him. He more or less explicitly says as such in 106, expressing that this break in their relationship is necessary for Ruby to be able to live on 'after he's gone' - which strongly implies that Aqua's revenge play is intended to end with his death.

Knowing that Ruby is Sarina wasn't quite enough to shake his conviction, but their talk in 143 was. I do think Ruby just giving him some straightforward affirmation was a good starting point but I also can't help but wonder, with the context that his white stars were not indicative of a permanent change, if hearing just how deeply Ruby still relies on 'Gorou's' presence in her life struck a nerve for him. Paraphrasing her from 143, she straight up says Gorou is the one who gives her life meaning. And if that's how it is, what exactly will happen if he's gone again..?

Obviously this is all still speculation because even when I am begging on hand and knee Akasaka is refusing to give us Aqua introspection but at this point I have to make a guess at SOMETHING if i am going to say anything remotely coherent about aqua in this arc, so

ANYWAY!! AQUA AND KANA HAVING A NORMAL ASS CONVERSATION FOR THE FIRST TIME IN GOD KNOWS HOW LONG!!! Ngl, it did give me a bit of a chuckle to see Kana voice the question of whether Aqua was getting too immersed in his role, given that people were accusing her of that back during the first round of the RBKN conflict.

I was also really surprised to see Aqua just outright say that yeah, he is at least flirting with suicidal ideation. Like - that's the first time he's said that out loud, to anybody??? In 143 he voices the less damning but still not great sentiment that he feels guilty for being alive but this is to my knowledge the first time Aqua has expressed his suicidal ideation out loud, let alone to anyone else. And… fuck, man! That's an absolutely terrifying thing to hear a friend say. No wonder Kana reacts like she does.

Because of my powers of Claire-voyance (read: basic pattern recognition and being in fandoms for 15+ years), I'm pretty sure people are going to be Very Mean to Kana about the way she chooses to respond to Aqua here but honestly? Not only did this tough love response feel very IC for her, but the clumsiness of it felt very honest to me. I think a lot of people in fandom lately just want characters to talk like fucking therapists all the time and have the Correct And Unproblematic Response to… well, situations like this. But Kana is an 18 year old girl who has her own share of issues and her friend she knows is dealing with his own huge amount of baggage just casually dropped an "i wanna kms" on her. All things considered, I think she handles it surprisingly well.

Because like… look at what Kana really says to Aqua here. She gives him some of their usual banter to diffuse the tension but then makes herself very clear: she does not want Aqua to hurt himself and makes him promise that he won't. It's clumsy and rough in the way Kana often is, but I think the important part - her sincere care for Aqua as her friend - really does shine through.

also cute that other people caught: Kana squishing Aqua's face seems to be an intentional callback to one of their on-stage interactions in Tokyo Blade, right down to Aqua making a identical scrunchyface to Kana. Extremely cute. I love it when Aqua is cute <3

Kana also being a person able to shake Aqua out of his black hoshigans also leans into something I've been hoping is going to pay off for a while now; the idea that Aqua's salvation is not going to come from any one, singular character but from the many different people who Aqua has built relationships with coming together when he needs them to support him. One of the things OnK has continually highlighted is the way isolation and lacking support systems warp and damage people's mental health and I think it would play excellently into that theme to have Aqua's support net, so to speak, to be wide enough to catch him no matter where he falls.

the product placement was very stupid but i did laugh pretty hard at it and then immediately go buy myself some potato chips so i guess it worked. genius mangaka aka akasaka.

All jokes aside, the note their talk ended off on was so lovely too. Aqua being honest enough to admit that being with Kana is fun and Kana getting all dokidoki and then quietly admitting she feels the same when she's alone… cute! But more than that, it highlights something about the AQKN dynamic I think is really important, regardless of whether their relationship is romantic, platonic, in laws, mlm/wlw hostility or whatever else; Kana is his friend and he can just be a normal boy and have normal fun with her without any ulterior motives. It's something Aqua doesn't really have in any of his other relationships so getting a reminder of that and what it means to Aqua was really good.

honestly i think i am just so starved of nice things happening to my son that seeing him opening up to one of his friends and admitting he has fun (HIS LAUGH!!!!!!) was like a shot of heavenly ambrosia for me. please can hoshino aqua have just one nice day.

OR UH… BASED ON THAT LAST PAGE…. PROBABLY NOT ANYTIME SOON….!!!

this is what i mean about this chapter giving me 5000000 things to talk about. kamiki is TALKING TO RUBY IN THE FLESH FOR THE FIRST TIME and i almost completely forgor.

why is he dressed like a dad about to take her out on a fishing trip, though

Ruby looks unusually solemn while she's praying, which is interesting. She's been pretty bright and high energy since 141ish so I'm curious what has her looking so comparatively dour. She's praying at a shrine, too, which means there's probably something on her mind. Nik (@akane-kurokawa) theorized that she's anxious about the upcoming scenes in the movie (LIKE, YOU KNOW, HER MOM'S DEATH) and until we get further insight on that, that's what I'm gonna assume too.

putting aside how Shrimptresting it is that Kamiki turned up out of nowhere like that, I can't help but note a certain horrible parallel between Uehara meeting young Hikaru in the rain with a black umbrella and Kamiki doing the same for his daughter…

cannot wait for that entire talk to get offscreened. lol.

break next week……………………………

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #onk spoilers #chapter reviews #csa mention

[jadeittic]

Hi, so if your doing wednesday request ,may I request Xavier Thorpe x wednesday twin brother please?

DEATH OF ME

XAVIER THORPE + MALE!ADDAMS TWIN!READER

In which Wednesday Addams notices that her twin brother might have developed an interest to a familiar artistic schoolmate of theirs.

WARNINGS: swearing, really shitty bcs idk how to write but here u go anyway

YN Addams was known for lots of things. Number one was being Wednesday Addams' twin brother - and being her twin brother came with its pros and cons, but it was bearable (he once almost died due to lack of oxygen due to being locked in a coffin after he dropped a colored pencil on Wednesday's bedroom floor).

Nevertheless, people would expect YN to be a lot like his sister; gothic, obsessed with death, or just to simplify; a gothic sadist.

Gothic, yes, but not too much. YN would rather be naked in public than wear anything with color. One drop of anything other than black or white in the Addams' household and you're dead. Literally.

The obsessiveness with death was up to Wednesday, that's her job. YN Addams was almost the complete opposite. Black and white clothes still make an appearance all the time, but at first glance you wouldn't even spare a thought thinking he'd be an Addams.

One thing that Wednesday dislikes about YN a lot is how he doesn't act as creepily as she does. He was...sweet. Which was weird, considering he was an Addams. YN had this open personality which was just free and happy. He also has this side where if you mess with him, or just piss him off in any way, expect a Wednesday Addams male version. And let me tell you, you do not want him to get mad at you.

And Xavier never really cared about that. Ever since the Addams twins transferred due to...past stuff in the last school, YN caught the artist's attention. He just stood out in the family, is all.

--

FIRST DAY AT NEVERMORE

YN sucked at navigating. Wednesday left him to check out her room with her new roommate which she dreaded to have. YN's been wandering around, trying to find the principal, or just any student at all, when his eyes spotted a boy. this boy had his hair fallen down, almost reaching his shoulders. Blazer's sleeves rolled up with a paintbrush occupying his hand. He was painting.

YN walked up to him and looked at the ladder he was on and hoped that this mysterious boy would notice his presence without him needed to say anything, which didn't work.

"Hey?" YN asks, already seeming to be losing patience in a short amount of time (something the Addams have). YN failed to notice the earbuds he had on due to his beautif-- long hair. He seemed to not see the boy underneath him, until he saw a hand appear in his sight.

Taking off his earbuds and stepping off the ladder, he looked over t the person and took a good look.

"You new here? Haven't really seen you around," he asks, eyes wandering around YN's face. His eyes, which held some sort of emotion he couldn't really place a name on. His hair, plain black, yet so beautiful, such as his clothes and eyes. His lips, placed in a natural frown- Why was he looing at his lips?

"---where they are?" He was soon pulled out of his trance when he saw the soft lips he was just staring at move. Shit, had he been caught?

"Excuse me?"

"I was asking if you know where these classes are? I just transferred here and i have absolutely no idea where anything is." God, Xavier thought he was adorable. Wait, what? Xavier Thorpe, Nevermore's sappy teenager has found an interest to another person whose name he hasn't even known yet?

Xavier saw a chance and he took it. He wanted to know more about this mystery new student in his school. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to have a school crush again, am I right?

"I could give you a tour around the school, if you'd like. I'm free in about an hour." YN wasn't sure with what his answer would be. Would it be worth it? If he'd be honest, he thinks the boy in front of him was a fairly attractive man. Mind you, we get a school tour, and a chat with him.

"Sure. YN Addams.”

“YN Addams…like the Addams family?” Xavier wasn’t trying to be rude, let alone offend YN. He was just…surprised?

YN continued to ignore his question, as he waited for his name. The name he's been wanting to know since he first talked to him.

"Oh- uhm, Xavier. My name's Xavier Thorpe." Xavier Thorpe. It had a nice ring to it, if YN would be completely honest.

"I'll wait for you, Xavier Thorpe."

--

Ever since then, they've been inseparable. As so would say, "Thorpe and Addams, what an unusual pair", was now old news to them. Little did they know they've been yearning for love. Love for one another.

At this point, Wednesday had noticed. The long stares at each other when one isn't looking, their seats getting closer and closer by the day, And oh god, don't even make her think about the desperate gazes at their lips. It was like she was watching some romantic show, which she hated. A lot.

Wednesday wanted to talk to YN about this, but of course, he'd be busy because he'd be 'hanging out with Xavier at his shed', and that he'd be 'making it up to you soon, just don't worry about it, yeah?'.

Now was the perfect timing. Now with Enid gone somewhere around the school, Xavier busy being in detention, YN was just hanging out with his sister. Wednesday's been writing for the past hour, and just couldn't stop herself from asking,

"Do you find Xavier Thorpe intriguing?"

Looking up from the uninteresting book yn got from his sister’s desk, to her shadowed eyes, which held interest into her brother’s answer to her question.

“What?”

“Do you like him?” there’s no way YN is going to get away without answering her question, should he tell her? Not that she’d care, but YN was just worried. Which again, might not be an Addams trait.

“Tell him.” what?

"what?” YN repeated again. Wednesday never really took anyone’s emotions to heart, constantly just ignoring them and would sooner forget them. Why was she telling him to tell Xavier?

“Go. Tell him what he needs to be told.” it was like Wednesday was begging for her brother to leave and tell Xavier. She’s been there in the ups and downs of their friendship and she’s noticed their feelings develop into something bigger. She’d never admit it, but she really does hope it works out for her brother and her… friend?

After a long moment of silence, YN stood up from his spot and headed to the door. He could no longer feel the stare of his sisters while he walked through the empty room. A moment of gratitude was shared in the silence, they both will remember that forever.

God, YN didn’t even know what he’d say. What if he makes a complete fool of himself? Would Xavier hate him after he finds out? would he still even accept YN as a fr-

Knock, knock, knock.

YN realises he’s never left the room, he was just in front of the door, completely overthinking his whole situation. YN's forgot about Wednesday being in the room, until she pointed out that someone has knocked the door.

What YN didn't expect is that Xavier was at the door, Xavier Thorp, knocking at Wednesday addams’ room door. Why?

“Oh, hey. Figured you were here, can we talk?” Xavier wants to talk? about what? Was it the same reason YN wanted to talk to him about as well?

Walking out of the room and closing the door behind, the pair refused to look at each other. It was as if they were both nervous about something. Well, YN was. And Xavier didn’t know that, neither did YN know Xavier’s been feeling nervous ever since the start of the day.

“What’s up?” YN first spoke up. Fuck, the silence was deafening. YN just wanted to tell xavier how he feels and just kiss his soft li-

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a really, really long time, and I am so fucking sure you’re going to hate me for this. I just like you, like a lot. And its not just in a platonic and friendly way, I like you romantically and I just want us to be more than what we are now. You can hate me it’s fine, I just wanted to tell you-“

“Xavier-“

“About how I feel because it’s just so hard keeping my feelings when you’re being so stupidly perfect. your stupid hair, your stupid eyes, your stupid lips that I just want to fee-“

“I like you too.”

“See? I like you too! And I just hope, I just really hope that you’d- what did you just say?”

“I like you too, Xavier Thorpe.”

Wide grins were painted on the pair’s faces. So wide their cheeks were starting to hurt, but they couldn’t care less because of what just happened.

“You do?” Xavier’s eyes were going glossy, in disbelief that this is all happening. The love of his life-YN Addams, likes him back. YN nodded sheepishly, now embarrassed that Xavier knew.

“You’re going to be the death of me, YN Addams.”

#wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #tyler galpin x reader #xavier thorpe x reader #enid sinclair x reader #bianca barclay x reader #ajax petropolus x reader #jadeittic