#I'll probably update this if i think of anything else but yeah
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Intro post time ??
Name: I go by Cal or Nova online
Blogs: I interact from @in-the-starz (my toy collector blog), my dghda sideblog is @fans-of-wet-circles, and my misc fandom/writing blog is @some-holistic-master-thief
Very obsessed with the used and mcr, horse kid, sorta plays guitar, fashion lover, queer (all definitions of the word) loser
DNI: terfs, conservatives, anybody else of that sort
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Do the Thing! | Toilet Repair
logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.
series history; Previous Chapter
portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)
possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.
pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).
you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.
“I think my name is just Tony now.”
You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.
“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”
This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.
Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.
You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”
She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”
“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”
“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”
“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”
“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”
“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”
She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”
“Good things?”
“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”
You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”
“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”
“The connection?”
“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”
“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”
She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”
Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”
“Ah. N’ then…”
“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”
She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”
“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”
“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”
You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.
“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”
You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”
She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.
Off to fix an exploded toilet.
“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”
Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.
“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.
“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”
“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”
You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”
“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”
“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”
He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”
“Not a Chef!”
“Term of Respect, Chef!”
You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.
You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.
Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.
“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.
“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”
Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”
“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”
“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”
You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”
“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”
That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”
His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...
She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”
You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”
“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.
“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?
You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”
“Did they?”
Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”
You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.
“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.
She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”
This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.
It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.
But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.
On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”
They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”
He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”
“Really gonna practice your set on me?”
He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”
You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”
“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.
When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.
“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.
“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”
He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”
“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.
You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.
“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”
The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.
He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”
“I’m doing okay, yeah.”
Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.
You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”
He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”
Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.
He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.
“What the fuck?”
Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.
“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.
“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”
“In The Beef!”
“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”
He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”
He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.
“Well?” You start.
“Well?” He astutely adds.
You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”
“The thing?”
You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.
“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”
“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”
You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.
Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.
“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”
He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.
He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”
“What?”
“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.
He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.
He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”
“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.
“Huh?”
You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”
You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.
You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”
You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…
“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.
“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”
“Should get Fak on that, then.”
“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”
You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”
“If you’ll take it.”
“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”
“How’s that going?”
You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”
“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.
“How’s the second day open going?”
“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”
You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”
“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”
“You don’t seem happy about that.”
“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”
Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—
The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”
Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”
There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.
The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.
“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”
“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”
He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”
You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.
Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.
You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”
Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.
Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.
Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.
After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”
She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.
It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…
“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.
I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”
“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”
Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”
She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”
“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.
“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.
“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”
You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”
You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”
“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.
Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.
You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”
“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”
He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”
He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”
“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”
He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”
“Well?”
“Do the thing.”
You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”
“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.
“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”
He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”
Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.
“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.
He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”
You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”
He squints. “…How’re you—”
“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.
“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”
With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.
“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”
He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.
“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”
He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.
“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.
“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”
You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”
He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”
“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”
“Heard.”
You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”
He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”
“It is.”
“Oh.”
“But in a way you can fix.”
“How?”
“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”
“You can’t take yourself?”
“Bitch?”
“Kidding. Heard. What else?”
“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.
He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”
“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”
“The chaos menu? She said—”
“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”
He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”
“You’re reactive.”
“No shit.”
“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”
He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”
“It had been 23 minutes.”
“Oh.”
“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”
“…No.”
“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”
He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.
“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”
He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”
“I will not.”
“You just said I was a catastrophe.”
“Fully not what I said.”
“I read between the lines.”
“Carmen.”
You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”
He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”
“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.
“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.
You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”
He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”
“First restaurant too?”
He nods again.
“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”
There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.
“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”
“You’ll do better next time.”
He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”
“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”
“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.
“At what? Self-help?”
He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”
You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.
You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.
…
When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.
“Fucking Mikey!”
“What’d he do this time?”
You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”
She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”
“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”
“Oh.”
“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”
“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”
“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”
“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”
“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”
She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”
“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.
“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.
“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”
She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”
All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.
“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”
Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.
“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”
You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”
“Does it?”
“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.
She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”
Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?
“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”
You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.
“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”
You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.
“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”
You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”
You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”
“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”
“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.
“But?”
“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”
She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”
“It’s done. I’ll be there.”
“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”
Fuck.
Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.
Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!
Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!
Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!
Next Part
#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto#carmy x reader#carmen x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto#the bear fx#carmy the bear#the bear x you#the bear#the bear x reader#the bear fanfiction
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so today i tricked my very straight male friend into reading svsss.
okay look, i wasn't planning to at first and it's not like it was completely my fault. he wanted to read it!
i was showing him how badly they fucked up mu qingfang in the donghua by comparing it to the english novel design (he said that mu qingfang went from looking like a soft dilf to a predator registered on the epstein island list). and then, i showed him how different some of the other character designs were like gongyi xiao's ("he looks like he'd be a genshin character" -friend, to eng novel design) and luo binghe's ("lowkey, he kinda gives airbender vibes" -friend, to bunhe eng novel design)
so that was all i was gonna show him, nothing else. but after seeing them, he goes, "these designs actually look hella cool. what's the book called?"
now, do i:
A. tell him the name, eventually revealing that it's a danmei when he looks it up?
B. just straight up tell him that it's a danmei?
C: don't tell him the name just yet, spill the summary, get him interested, and tell him to not search anything up about it because there's heavy spoilers and it will reveal them the moment he types it up on the search bar
i go with C, obviously.
me: so, basically, some guy named shen yuan transmigrates into an incel harem male power fantasy novel where the protagonist, luo binghe, has hundreds of wives. thing is though, the guy pretty much took over the body of binghe's teacher he had when he was a teenager, who turns out to be a really scummy dude. and now he has to be nice to him so that the protagonist doesn't rip off his limbs and put him into a pickle pot in the future to suffer for eternity.
friend: that sounds hilarious and horrifying at the same time.
me: yes it is, and you should read it. it's like. my favorite novel at the moment. but don't search up anything about it because people spoil that shit. i'll let you borrow my novel
friend: nah don't worry, i'll just pirate it
friend: wait. does it have pictures?
me, my plan coming together: yeah, it has pictures. buuut, when you pirate it, it doesn't. trust me dude, i tried and was severely disappointed. plus, the physical copy is so much better
friend: fuck yeah ok thanks
me: hold on though. i'll text you later to see if my friend who's borrowing it rn is done reading it
he's hyped. he's excited. he craves a good book and a good transmigration interpretation. he's especially happy about the fact that it takes place in a chinese setting with cool powers and an actual good main character. "this sounds so good, god i wanna read it so bad."
i tell him that binghe is actually adorable, too. that it's pretty much found family! my friend then asks if shen yuan adopts him and becomes a father figure or something.
and i said "yes". you know, like a liar. (the father figure part probably isn't a lie though)
now i'm gonna give him the novel tomorrow! of course, i'm gonna cover the chapter 2 bunhe sexual awakening scene with washi tape and say that my baby cousin (sorry baby cousin, you would never <\3) scribbled all over that paragraph with her markers, and since i'm a neat book freak, i put washi tape and just wrote the scene! i don't know if that's really all too believable, but he didn't seem to care that much. just a simple "if my baby cousin did that to my book i would punt them into the sun"
i think what'll be more hilarious is the fact that you can't really tell that svsss is a BL. especially not volume 1. there's like, only a few lines indicating, but if you remove the baby binghe sexual awakening scene then you probably won't be able to know (...if you don't really read romance or anything. idk he's kinda dense anyways). so let's hope he gets attached and has a slow descent into the homo before i drop svsss vol 2 on him!
ok anyways i'll update you guys later with a reblog. maybe in about two or three days lol
(also don't worry, we already fuck around with each other on a daily basis like this. he's already tricked me into reading some manga i was unprepared for, and i thought that it'd be funny to mess around with him using svsss this time lol)
#greatest prank ive ever donee i think#manipulation 100 fr#absolute tomfoolery#am i a bad friend for this? perhaps. is it hilarious? definitely.#this is truly the most moment of all time#svsss#mxtx svsss#the scum villain's self saving system#luo binghe#luo bingmei#shen qingqiu#shen yuan
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injury ( seo changbin )
changbin x male!reader
changbin finds out his boyfriend was injured at a volleyball game.
content : 1.8k words, angst & fluff, idol!bin x athlete!reader, mentions injuries/hospitalization, crying
changbin patted his face down with a towel, panting lightly as he got up from his short rest on the cold studio floor. the other members were also taking a minute to relax before continuing with the dance practice for their highly anticipated comeback.
after changbin went over to his water bottle and took a sip, the group's manager busted through the door in hectic worry. everyone looked at the man in confusion, but his own eyes traveled the room in search of only one member. when he finally found changbin, he hurried over to him.
"is everything okay?"
"what's going on?"
their manager was more focused on changbin than the others' questions, which only worried changbin further.
"you didn't hear, i'm assuming?" their manager asked. changbin looked at him with furrowed brows, his gaze moving from the man in front of him to his friends around the room.
"hear about what..?" he responded.
"ah.. um, y/n got hurt at his volleyball game.."
changbin's chest tightened. fear began coursing through his body as the others gathered closer to the two of them.
"what?? is he okay? what happened?" changbin asked frantically. the other shook his head.
"i'm not sure what exactly happened. they were broadcasting the game and i just know he got hurt and he's been taken to a hospital."
"holy shit.." changbin took a second to process the information before hurrying to get his things. "i have to go see him.. um, where-"
"i'll text you the details about where they took him, go go!" their manager assured as he whipped out his phone. changbin smiled thankfully and rushed to throw his bag over his shoulder.
"i'll come with you!" chan cut in, going to get his own things to join his friend.
"keep us updated, please!" felix shouted after the two as they departed from the studio. changbin's mind was completely out of it, but chan made sure to give the members a confident nod.
changbin, with slightly shaking hands, pulled his phone out and went to call his partner as fast as he could. with the phone then pressed to his ear, chan led him outside to a car.
"fuck, he's not answering.." he mumbled as tears pricked at his eyes.
"they're probably just taking care of him at the hospital and he can't get to his phone right now. i'm sure he's fine, changbin, really," chan comforted, now rubbing his back. changbin nodded quickly.
"yeah, that's possible.." he trailed off. chan could tell from his face that all the worst possible scenarios were filling his head.
"hey, come on. let's go find him.. everything's gonna be fine," chan assured him as they finally got settled into the car.
while chan drove, changbin constantly checked his phone for something from his boyfriend. receiving nothing, light tears began leaving his eyes while he quickly swiped them away with his jacket sleeve.
"i feel so stupid.." he muttered, looking down at his phone in his hands. chan's head snapped over to look at him, going between the male and the road.
"what, why??"
changbin sighed as he wiped another tear the second it started trailing down his cheek.
"he's gotta be okay, right? game injuries happen.. so why am i getting this worked up.."
"the only thing you should feel stupid for is thinking you're stupid," chan stated. changbin looked over at him now.
"huh?"
"he's your boyfriend. your very longtime boyfriend, at that. it's okay and normal to be worried or cry over something like this," the older explained. changbin raked a hand through his hair and nodded.
"i guess so.. thanks."
before chan could say anything else, changbin's phone finally rang with the call he'd been waiting for. he quickly tapped the green pick up button and pressed the device to his ear.
"y/n?!"
"hi, babe.."
changbin's heart sank at the tiredness in his voice. at the moment, all he was worried about was y/n, but he knew one of y/n's biggest worries right now was probably his career. a bad injury that caused lasting effects could ruin things.
"are you alright?? we're on the way now, i'll be there soon."
"i'm alright, bin. i actually didn't think you knew yet so i was calling to tell you. i thought you couldn't watch the game this time because of your schedule with stray kids?"
"ah, no, i couldn't watch. we were practicing for the comeback but our manager found out and told me."
"ohh, okay. well, i'm okay for the most part."
"for the most part?"
"well.. i dunno, i think it might be serious but the doctors are still confirming."
"ah.. i'm sorry, babe. we'll be there in like twenty-ish minutes, okay?"
"okay, i love you."
"i love you too, so much."
changbin sighed as his phone left his ear and they ended the call.
"he's okay?" chan asked.
"i think so.. he said the injury might be serious. i know he's worried about volleyball more than anything right now," he answered dejectedly.
"hopefully it's not as bad as he thinks," chan encouraged. changbin nodded at this before looking out of the window.
the rest of the ride was silent with the exception of the radio playing softly. once the two arrived, changbin was quick to hurry inside and find his boyfriend. chan followed suit, soon being directed to y/n's room.
changbin entered in a rush, seeing his partner laying exhausted in one of the hospital beds with his left leg elevated a bit. changbin felt tears threaten at his eyes again, but gave it no thought as he rushed to y/n's side.
"y/n," he called softly. a smile lifted on y/n's lips at the sight of his boyfriend. he felt changbin place kiss after kiss all over his face, laughing a bit at the received affection.
"bin, i'm alright, see?" y/n teased while changbin pulled away now, smiling at his positive attitude.
"i was really worried.."
y/n nodded at this and took changbin's hand, the latter sitting in the chair placed by his bed. y/n's sights drifted over to chan, who was simply standing behind changbin letting the two have their moment.
"you brought a stray kid! hi, channie," y/n greeted warmly. being changbin's boyfriend for almost four years now, he'd gotten very close to the other members as well.
"hi, y/n! i'm sorry about the injury.."
y/n gave him a soft smile in response before looking back at his boyfriend. changbin's eyes were gentle and sparkling with small tears, making y/n frown.
"no no, don't cry. i'm gonna be fine, baby," y/n assured, his grip on the other's hand tightening in attempts to comfort him. changbin only nodded. he knew y/n would be fine, and yet the tears seemed to keep coming.
"alright, mister l/n!" the three boys turned their attention to y/n's doctor as he came into the room.
"we have your diagnosis now.. i'm assuming because of all your experience in volleyball, you know about acl injuries?" he asked. y/n sighed and nodded.
"acl injuries?" changbin repeated.
"an anterior cruciate ligament injury, unfortunately that's what we're working with," the doctor replied regretfully. changbin's eyes moved from his boyfriend to the doctor, still a little confused. y/n chuckled at his clueless expression.
"it's okay, bin. do you mind explaining it to him?" he asked the doctor, who smiled and shook his head.
"not at all. essentially, it's a torn ligament in the knee. the acl is the tissue that connects the thighbone to the shinbone right at the knee. it's actually a pretty common injury among athletes," the doctor explained. changbin nodded.
"well, so.. does that mean it's easily treated? where do we need to go from here?" changbin questioned. the hope and determination in his tone made y/n smile.
"unfortunately, it's not something you just heal from like 'that'," he informed the other with a snap of his fingers. "y/n will need surgery and physical therapy afterwards. often times, this can take up to a year, so i'm sorry to say you won't be able to play volleyball or anything else for a good while."
y/n looked down and nodded. changbin's lips thinned into a line as his thoughts ran around his brain in chaos. he knew this was what y/n was afraid of.
"the good news is that you should recover just fine with the therapy, and eventually you'll be able to get back at it again," the doctor added.
changbin looked at y/n again, who just nodded and gave him a weak grin in response.
"i'll leave you alone to process things and be with your friends. i'll come back with a nurse to talk more later, okay?"
once the doctor left the room, y/n's tears hit. changbin's heart broke at the sight.
"y/n, i'm so sorry," he comforted as he got up to hug him. chan looked at his friend a bit awkwardly before sending him a smile and pointing to the door. changbin only nodded at this, watching chan slip out to leave the couple alone.
after some minutes of continuous tears, changbin pulled away to see y/n a little better. he moved y/n's hair away from his face and smiled.
"it's gonna be okay, babe."
y/n nodded and sniffled lightly, not letting go of his boyfriend's hand.
"i feel like i let my team down.." he mumbled.
"y/n, no. you got hurt, you didn't do anything wrong," changbin protested. when y/n didn't answer, changbin gently lifted his chin to make their eyes meet.
"you didn't do anything wrong," he repeated. y/n finally nodded before releasing another sigh.
"bin?"
"hm?"
"can you come up here?.." y/n asked as he patted the bed.
"ah.. i don't know if i should. even if there's room for me, i don't think you should be moving a lot," he replied in worry. y/n frowned and nodded, which only made changbin more sad.
"alright, alright. but be careful, please," he gave in. y/n smiled in triumph before cautiously moving over to make room for his partner.
once changbin settled in beside him, he wrapped his arms around y/n tightly. a warm feeling filled y/n's chest at the other's strong arms and the sound of his steady heartbeat, eventually drifting off to the sound like a lullaby.
"rest well, my love."
#stray kids#skz#seo changbin#changbin#changbin x male reader#skz x reader#skz x male reader#stray kids x male reader#stray kids x reader#changbin x reader#kpop x male reader
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18 + Only, minors will be blocked, you are not welcome here
☆About Me☆
You can call me Rot. I'm 21, he/they, transmasc and this is my horny blog! This will be my general horny content blog where I'll post/reblog the stuff I like however I will separate some of my interests and kinks onto other blogs. I am pre-t and pre-op. Generally just queer but I like people of any gender however I do lean more t4t
My asks are open for anything! Send me stuff!!
My dms are openish. At this time I'm not looking to sext and heavily flirt. I'm going through a lot and will be slow to respond most times. I really only have the brainpower to hold conversations about my special interests or if someone infodumps to me and I get to ask questions.
I'm comfortable with most masculine or feminine terms when referring to the parts of my body, I don't usually have a preference. I'll update this when I find something I don't like! I should probably add on that I'm a switch/vers in theory, mostly a sub/bottom in practice as I'm not confident enough to fully dom/top quite yet.
(rest of this post is a work in progress, bear with me please)
Without any further ado; list of content/kinks I like that you may find here(list incomplete):
Absolutely Yes: Petplay, Degradation, Praise (giving) Bondage, Impact play, Breeding, Somno, Edging, Overstim, Oviposition, Humiliation, Primal Play, Intox, Light CNC, Mommy kink??
Sometimes/Maybe: Choking (receiving), Praise (receiving)
Hard Limits: Scat, Death/Slob Feedism, Inflation, Raceplay, Feet
Kinks that will be mostly likely on a separate blog that I still like: Hypno, Knife play, Heavy CNC
Outside of all that, I'm going to list my sideblogs and tags down below and any other information I see fit so this intro isn't too long! (ps: if you know me from my previously deleted blog, feel free to say hi, I'd love to talk to y'all again, I was going through a really rough patch and honestly I'm so sorry I just disappeared)
My tags:
- rotposts: original content
- rotbarks: answering asks
- rotspeaks: non horny, rambles, or unrelated content
My sideblogs:
- @barkandbarkandbark : vent blog, rambles, literally anything just me talking to the digital void
Just a little more about me:
- @boymommy-brainrot : Mommy kink blog, a mostly gentle softer vibe, pics of me will also be on here
*Mommy is mostly a title, I like taking care of people and being gentle with them and just making them happy through acts of service. My kink is in no way an incest thing and as much I may use certain terms/words it is also not a ddlg thing either
Major theatre nerd, musicals, plays, plays with music, don't matter I love them all! I've acted in a few local shows, I've ran lights, I've staged managed, done a few other things. I'm really into dungeons and dragons and other ttrpgs and board games, and card games like magic the gathering. I love to draw and I love my silly little ocs I've made. If you upload your ocs or your fursona on your blog, there's a chance I might draw them, I like making art for others when I have the time.
Uhhhh, idk what else. I'm currently playing palword, this war of mine, overcooked 2, lethal company, escape the backrooms. However I do have many other games and if you ever wanted to play, just dm me, I'm down to find sometimes as long as we've talked a bit first and we vibe! I have major brainrot for Dead by Daylight right now so so badly
Oh yeah I fucking love robots I absolutely love robots and puppets I'm surprised I'm not like into fnaf more but man I just want to scream they're so cool.
I'll probably think of some other things to put here idk lol
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I've been in a creative slump lately, and I think I finally figured out why, and I want to share because maybe I'm not the only one.
So AI is here. And fandom engagement is wayyy down. And it feels like there are a dozen different ways that you're devalued as an artist/writer/any kind of creative person who makes and shares stuff. I've seen people talk about the lack of engagement and positive feedback, and that's definitely a trend as well and doesn't help. But there's something else at work as well.
I thought I was just burned out, maybe a little depressed, but I actually do have creative energy. I do stuff all the time. I'm full of ideas. It's only when it comes to fanart and fanfic and basically anything I'd share online that I sit down to do it and immediately want to give up and fall asleep.
I think I finally know why. What happens is, I make a thing, I share a thing... and it's met not with hate, or silence, but with demands for more. Every fic writer has probably run into this, the comments that just say "more please" or "when will you update". We all hate it. It makes you want to never update again. But when it's only the occasional comment, you shrug it off, maybe complain to your friends, done.
But I feel like it happens way more nowadays. It's a general shift in attitude. People do it with everything now. I like this thing, give me more of it. And I kind of get it, but also, I don't. Not to the extent it's happening at the moment.
The textbook example for me is still Rogue One. People loved it... and demanded a sequel. For Rogue One. A movie in which every single main character dies at the end, and which leads literally directly into A New Hope. What would a sequel even be about? The five minutes Leia spent running from Vader? It makes zero sense. The sequel to Rogue One already exists, it's called A New Hope and it came out over forty years ago.
But they didn't think about that. They didn't give a moment's thought to what a sequel could be, they just wanted more.
And as the person who made it, that reaction tells me a) you didn't pay a single ounce of attention to what I made because you're asking for something that makes no sense and b) nothing I make is or will ever be enough. The reaction is always "make more".
And that is just demotivating as hell. If nothing I do is ever enough, why even try? I might as well give up. If posting something means I'll have people demanding more, it's better I don't post anything. There's also, I think, a part of me that has her arms crossed and is refusing to make any more stuff for those people. But that's a small part of it. Most of it is honestly just an overwhelming feeling of wanting to give up. Which explains why it feels so much like depression.
So we've got this environment where people just demand more and can never get enough, and don't even really appreciate what they have because they're too busy demanding the next new thing. And it's not flat-out hate, I know some people will even insist it's a positive - after all, would I ask for more if I didn't like the thing? - and that's what's made it so hard to notice what's happening. It's like the attitude just sneaks into your brain and poisons you from the inside.
So I think this how I got to where I'm at currently. I hate it here. I hate sitting down to draw or write and immediately going "meh". I'm going to work out getting out of it. I can't change people, so I'll have to find a better way to deal with the situation, a way to keep it from doing this to me. I don't know how yet, but that's the next step.
I just wanted to share to see if it resonates with anyone, if anyone else feels like this? I only started figuring it out yesterday when it sort of hit me, so maybe it doesn't entirely make sense yet, but yeah. That's where I'm at.
#idk how to tag this really#artist woes#would love to hear if anyone feels similarly#or has any solutions even#do NOT want to hear from anyone who insists it's meant with love#or whatever#because tbh it doesn't matter how it's meant#my feelings are my feelings#and i'm sick of people trying to argue them away
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goodbye :)
not really lol this was clickbait 🤠
BUT now that i have your attention, i am going on a semi writing hiatus tho. i feel like this is long overdue. i'd like to start off with a couple weeks, maybe a month, maybe longer, idk? we'll see how it goes.
i'll still be relatively active on tumblr - answering asks and whatever bullshit i usually do - and discord (bc let's face it, i have nowhere else to be lmao) so i guess this is mostly a formal announcement for myself so that my brain can process the fact that this! bitch! needs! a! f*cking! break! 👏 it's not like i even have a regular update schedule to begin with, so for most of you things will probably feel the same. but tbh for me, writing doesn't feel as fun as it used to. it hasn't for a while, and neither has being on tumblr in general (some days it fully feels bad being on tumblr but i'm still Here bc i do not know what to do with myself lol).
don't get me wrong, i still love writing and i still want to write. but i just want to be able to actually enjoy it instead of feeling pressured to do it, yk? so i just need to find the spark again bc right now it feels like a chore and we definitely don't want that 😕
also - i feel like most writers go through this at some point - i keep (unintentionally) comparing myself to other writers and a bitch just cannot stop lmao. i've noticed that whenever i feel stuck while writing, i'd look to others and i'd think "damn, why can't i do this or that?" and that'd just make me feel worse lol miss girl gotta work on that. i mostly keep stuff to myself and lately it's been a little More than usual and i don't want to keep going when i obviously need a break only to end up overflowing one day and impulsively deleting my account (i probably won't lol this is my permanent address)
i'll use the time off to get back into reading too - god knows i haven't been reading fics as much as i used to. apologies to all the writers whose works i've been dying to read for so long but just haven't had the energy to sit down and dig in. reading is one of my main sources of inspiration (i made this blog bc i loved reading so much that it inspired me to write my own shit!) so hopefully that'll help the process too ✌️
unrelated to the writing bit but i also kinda want to use the extra time to start working on a professional portfolio and maybe jump back into my wack ass redbubble shop lmao
sooo yeah. i'm not gonna pull a one direction and just ride off into the sunset for good lmao. if anything, i hope i'll pull a bangtan and bounce back with even more content and vigor than before. maybe this is jeonqkooks chapter two 😎
maybe this was a bit dramatic lmao but anyways, sorry to anybody who thought i'd be leaving. unfortunately, you're stuck with me until tumblr gets swallowed up by the sun <3
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You know, one thing I don't like when I digitally color sketches is that the colors end up looking a little desaturated because of the paper. It doesn't look bad, I guess, but I have to eventually find a way to "fix" it eventually.
Anyway, today marks 6 years since BATIM Chapter 4 was released. Damn. I know I say something similar every time I recognize the passage of time, but it's hard to believe that it's been more than half a decade since this chapter came out. Time passes, I get older, it's crazy!
And I wanted to do something to celebrate. I've never been able to do anything to celebrate this chapter's anniversary since 2019. Which is a shame because "Colossal Wonders" is my favorite chapter in BATIM. Some of my favorite moments from this game are in this chapter.
And every year I try to do something to celebrate the anniversary, but I never manage to do it and it sucks! And as usual, what I really wanted to do this year didn't end up happening. I'll probably do it at some point later, but there was no way I could execute the idea I had in mind in such a short amount of time.
But I still wanted to post something today, so something small will have to do.
In this case, oh hey! It's Bertie and Lacie!
In recent times I've been going back to old designs of mine of the human cast of the Bendy universe, and since CH4's anniversary was coming up, I thought it would be good to update my designs for both Bertrum and Lacie. It's been so long since I last drew them, so it's about time. I liked the general idea of the last versions of them that I did in the past, so I tried to keep those ideas still, in a way, but at the same time giving them new life. Lacie falls more in this case, tbh. Bert still maintains some of the previous idea, but I had to change a few details. He still looks good, tho.
I originally wanted to put Jack Fain here too, because,by all accounts, Jack Fain only came into existence with the release of CH4 and the remasters of the other chapters. As much as you can put him on CH2's anniversary,he, at the end of the day, was only introduced on April 30, 2018. Problem is, I didn't like the drawing I made of him. I don't know, it wasn't that good in my opinion. And I didn't want to redo the drawing again (this would be my third attempt) and I wouldn't have enough time to redo his part. So today we'll just have Bernie and Lacie. Sorry Jack. Maybe next time, when I show my CH2 cast designs in one place.
Once again, happy anniversary to Chapter 4! This is my favorite chapter of the game to date. It includes some of my favorites from the story, it has several surprises that caught me the first time I saw the chapter, it brought new updates to previous chapters that added things that I still like to this day (and this goes especially for CH2)
And overall, it's a pretty cool chapter me thinks. 👍
That one day we can hear more from Bertrum and Lacie again.🙏 (Especially Lacie. Seriously, don't you guys think it's wild that Lacie is the only one of the human cast of BATIM who hasn't appeared in practically anything since the first game. Like, yeah, she's mentioned in the Handbook, but other than that, she's not mentioned in nothing else after, whether in games or books. I think about this from time to time. Truly one of the Bendy characters of all time)
#bendy and the ink machine#batim#bertrum piedmont#lacie benton#batdr#bendy and the dark revival#crookedsmileart#if you want a fun fact: The first design I made of Bertrum; which was in 2019 in I believe;#I wanted him to be similar to his model that we saw in the game;#at the same time taking a little inspiration from his VA;Joe J. Thomas#I think the design actually worked? but I wasn't happy for a while#so I ended up redesigning him; moving away from the canon accuracy a little; and doing my own thing#and this ended up continuing with subsequent updates#I think this current design is a bit of both ideas; details based on how we saw him in the game; and my own details#and yeah;the monocle has been around since the first design#and yes; the bow tie is kinda weird with that shape#but I think the great Bertrum Piedmont is allowed to wear ties of any type of shape; even they are a bit strange#Lacie's design hasn't changed much in recent years; the main idea has remained the same#The most changes she went through were changes in the color palette#the one I ended up using in the end is what we see above#I think it's what suits her the most (at least; it suits my design of her)
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reading update: January 2024
as long as I'm talking about The Gargoyle's Captive, let's discuss what else I've been reading this month.
Maeve Fly (CJ Leede, 2023) - I really liked this slender debut novel, which follows the titular Maeve Fly as she prowls LA like a homicidal alien, playing an unnamed ice princess in a certain theme park by day and indulging her murderous tendencies by night. Maeve is in a downward spiral; she's 27 years old and is preparing to lose her grandmother to illness and her only friend to a blossoming acting career. she sees no future for herself beyond losing the only two people she cares about and has no further goals, contenting herself with alcohol and porn while she rereads the same books, rewatches the same videos, and listens over and over to her playlist of Halloween music. Maeve is, it must be said, an abysmal loser, and I like her terrible melodrama a lot. I do think some of the hype is perhaps overstating the feminist credentials of this book; it sort of reminds me of when a college friend told me their favorite feminist movie was Suicide Squad (2016) because Harley Quinn was in it. Maeve talks a lot of big game about how women are always expected to have some tragedy to be deranged serial killers, while men are allowed to just do it, but it hit me as a little tryhard. there are a lot of books trying to be "the female American Psycho" right now - Eliza Clark's 2020 novel Boy Parts is frequently described as such - but it feels a bit too on the nose when Maeve's ultimate climactic rampage is directly inspired by a glimpse of the American Psycho novel. it's not that deep, but it is a gross, captivating read told from a fascinatingly cracked POV. check out Maeve Fly.
Laziness Does Not Exist (Devon Price, 2021) - yeah Devon Price is still following me (though my days are numbered, I'm sure) so it's a massive relief to say that I did like this book. Price has sort of become my self-help ride or die, mainly because a.) he's so much more self-aware than the average self-help writer that it feels kind of insulting to call him one and b.) he's actually dealing with topics that are relevant or interesting and providing actionable advice. while LDNE didn't engross me quite as hard as Unmasking Autism (while I am, famously, not autistic, I do believe in their beliefs, by which I mean I'm the token allistic among my close friends and I vastly prefer autistic company) it hit me hard in several unexpected pressure points. I'll happily admit that I can't relate to Price's interviewees who willingly work 50+ hours a week for jobs that hate them and are destroying their minds and bodies, but I still struggle to escape the perpetual sensation that a moment at rest is a moment wasted. It probably didn't help that I was reading this book while on vacation at my mother's, where I visited the beach almost daily and was so work-averse that we didn't even bother going grocery shopping because I didn't want to cook. and yet, despite getting dummy chill in some aspects of my life, I am still constantly possessed by a malevolent ghost insisting that I'm wasting my time and have never actually done Enough. maybe Price's next book, Unlearning Shame, will finally fix me; it's out in four days and god knows I'll be getting my hands on it as soon as humanly possible.
Patternmaster (Octavia E. Butler, 1976) - y'all know I love a messy political fantasy, and this is just... god, the absolute messiest. I thought Mind of My Mind was bad, but it turns out Mary's descendants are going to full-on reinvent feudalism with psychic powers, treating non-psychics as chattel and causing technological advancement to regress since they refuse to handle their problems with anything but psychic powers. and it's even got two brothers duking it out for the throne that will give them power over every bitchy psychic on earth! you love to see it. if I can be 100% honest I do think it's straight up bananagrams that this was the first book released in the series even though it's chronologically last; I genuinely cannot imagine caring enough to figure out what the fuck these people were talking about if I didn't have the previous four books for context. and even "context" may be generous; Octavia still has absolutely 0 interest in explaining what's up with the fucking outer space werewolves who are the psychics' #1 enemy. if I could have brunch with any person living or dead I would summon Butler up in a heartbeat to explain what the fuck her thought process was in plotting out this series over some mimosas, and I would take extensive notes on every word she said. an absolute genius and the uncontested queen of freak shit forever.
Thirsty Mermaids (Kat Leyh, 2021) - I purchased this graphic novel in November 2023 at a conference where I bumped into Queer Comics Peddler, my very favorite queer midwestern pop-up. running into them is always a delight, and this time I came with a question: could they give me a recommendation? the very nice people working offered up Thirsty Mermaids, which was the PERFECT companion for a long airplane ride. it's cute without being overly sappy, and avoids the trap of sacrificing a plot for the sake of checking off as many representation boxes as possible. the story is simple: three mermaids use a spell to turn into humans and go ashore in search of booze, only to realize in the morning that they don't know how to turn back. taken in by a generous bartender, they're faced with the reality of having to make money for the first time in their lives. hijinks ensue, but also a very sweet and warmhearted story about the friends looking out for one another as they try to figure out exactly where they belong and what home even means. also the artwork is GORGEOUS, with the mermaids' extremely memorable character designs being a real standout. if you're a graphic novel enthusiast, definitely check this out 🧜♀️
Sugar, Baby (Celine Saintclare, 2023) - Sugar, Baby came to me in a very similar way as Thirsty Mermaids: while visiting a witchy little bookstore that I was immediately charmed by, I asked the cashier what they would recommend. they offered up Maeve Fly (fab) and this novel, a stack of which was on the counter advertising an upcoming event with the author. neither have disappointed, so shout out to that one employee with the great taste! Sugar, Baby sees a young cleaner named Agnes, one of the only biracial women in her unnamed English town, befriending the daughter of a wealthy client and getting whisked away to her new friend's London lifestyle: crashing in an apartment with fellow models, staying out all night to party, and making money by going on dates with extravagantly wealthy older men. Agnes starts out having a swell time, but the cracks pretty swiftly start to form as she realizes how much more dependent she is on these men than her wealthy new friends and she begins to wonder exactly how much she's willing to diminish herself to get the bag. it's not a perfect first novel but it is a compelling one, a perfect airplane page-turner that crashes from glitzy to ghoulish and back with breakneck speed.
The Gargoyle's Captive (Katee Robert, 2023) - my full review is over on patreon for my darling supporters who want me dead (and picked this book in the first place, damn them to hell), but suffice to say this is a fun book to read if you like the sensation of your brain melting out of your nose, if you're really turned on by baby's first bdsm, you are not particularly concerned with trifling matters like "plot coherence" or "character motivation" or "writing that is complex and artful," and/or you've ever wanted to have sex with a dude whose penis is so big that you feel genuinely fear. also, hey, I forgot to include this in my patreon write-up so fuck it: Robert REFUSES to tell us what kind of food the protagonists are eating, ever. whenever they have a meal it's just "the food was placed on the table" "I took a bite" etc. drop me a HINT, man, come on! is it a protein? grain? starches? the only thing I know for sure that they're consuming is wine and a single marshmallow, and god does it show. it's just a very weird and distracting omission and it's absolutely not the worst thing about this book but it is a hill I'm willing to die complaining on.
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Chapter 6 - The Tour
This is gonna be a big one, so buckle in. Also there's a weird perspective change in the middle that I wasn't sure how to do so there's just three dashes (---) instead because that was the best I could come up with, and it didn't feel right to split it into two parts.
I can't promise any updates for the next two weeks because I'll be on holiday and I have no idea how much access I'm gonna have, but I'll try and get the next part out (there's only 2 or 3 more probably) as soon as I can after I get back :)
Please let me know if you wanna be added to or removed from the tag list as well!
Warnings: past trauma (they're actually gonna talk about it now so please be careful my lovelies), implied past rape
Word count: 6.7k (I don't know how this happened)
Series master list here!
Tag list: @kentucky-criedfricken, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @kateswone, @historianthesecond, @polli05927, @ell0ra-br3kk3r
This tour was going to be the death of Nikolai, and it had only just started.
While he and Y/N had built up some sort of relationship over the second part of their honeymoon and the following few weeks, the carriage rides were still a little awkward. Neither of them had said anything about when she had kissed him on the cheek that night (which he could swear he still felt sometimes), and now they had to spend every hour of the day for the next few weeks together trying to prove to everybody that they were completely in love. Nikolai wasn't finding it as difficult as he thought he would, but then he'd always been one to fall hard and fast. He knew he was definitely on his way to being hopelessly besotted with her, especially after the coronation. He had no words to describe how beautiful she looked that day, and seeing her in a crown only gave him further proof that she would be perfect as Queen of Ravka. He had probably looked like a lovesick fool that day, staring at her with unmasked awe, but he found that he didn't care. He was mostly trying to figure out how in the name of all the Saints he got so lucky to have her as his wife.
But this carriage ride was awkward.
She'd agreed to sharing a room with Tamar while Nikolai roomed with Tolya (since back at the Grand Palace they were sleeping separately anyway), but the night before Y/N had seen Zoya going into his room. The inn was small, only really large enough to house the touring party, but they'd put Nikolai as far away from everyone else as possible, just in case something happened. Tolya had been busy securing the perimeter when Nikolai had gone to bed, so Zoya had come to chain him in for the night, but neither of them accounted for the fact that she might be seen by Y/N. His wife had gone to bed over thirty minutes ago, so they had assumed that she was asleep.
When she then appeared on the landing after apparently needing a wee, she'd frozen, then disappeared into her room.
Breakfast that morning had been slightly tense, especially since Y/N had refused to meet either Nikolai or Zoya's eyes.
It was obvious that she thought that the two of them had slept together in the more... intimate way, but Nikolai hadn't had the chance to explain that that wasn't the case yet, since they had all been too busy packing and getting ready to go on the road.
So now the two of them were sat in the carriage, tension filling the air, and Nikolai thought that this might be the death of him. He didn't think he could just say "Oh, by the way, Zoya and I aren't having sex, she's just chaining me to my bed every night and sedating me so that the demon that lives inside me doesn't get out and kill anyone."
Yeah he definitely couldn't do it like that.
“Is there something wrong with me?”
The question shocked Nikolai, and he couldn’t help but jump in surprise a little at the sudden loudness in the quiet of the carriage.
“Not at all, darling, why would you think so?”
“Because you ran away on our wedding day, and you ran away that night - which I know we've sort of talked about, but still - and you said that you ‘definitely didn’t want this marriage’, and you haven’t visited me in my chambers the entire time we've been married, but Zoya has visited yours for all of them, including last night which I did see, by the way, which is fine if the rumours are true, but I want to know if there’s something wrong with me. And don’t call me darling, I don’t like it.” She was slightly out of breath when she’d finished, and Nikolai immediately felt horrible for not giving her the reason as to why he’d left her, but he also knew he still wasn't able to tell her the truth, despite how close they had become the last few weeks. His next words were quiet, almost whispered.
“There is nothing wrong with you, at all. I am the one who has something wrong with them. And I’m not... Zoya and I aren’t... they’re just rumours.” He had been looking her in the eye when he said it, hoping that she would see how sincere he was being, but now he turned back to look out the window, contemplating whether to say more or not. They were both quiet for a moment, before Nikolai spoke again.
“The war was... horrible, to put it lightly. The things that people went through, well, I’m sure you know. I don’t think a single person that went through it has come out without some sort of scar. Mine are... they uh...” he took a shallow breath, trying to fight back the memories of being under the control of the Darkling’s creature, to fight back the memories of being powerless. He shut his eyes, squeezed his hands together, bit the inside of his cheek. “What happened to me, in the war, that’s why I left that night by the lake. I know it’s a crappy excuse, but I don’t think... to be honest? I'm scared. I'm scared that if you know the truth you'll leave, and I think I care about you too much now for that," his face went warm at the confession, but he kept going. "I had to leave because something was happening to do with what happened to me in the war, and I was trying to keep you safe. I know, I know, that it’s not nearly enough to make it up to you, and I realise that I hurt you, but it’s the best I can do for now.” He hoped that what he had said was enough, that she would let him further into her heart past the barrier that he had helped create, and when she nodded and said a small “Okay then” he could have jumped for joy.
He deflated slightly when her brows furrowed, scared about what would come next.
“So why did you run away on our wedding day then? Was it the same thing? And is it also why... why you haven’t... you know?” She blushed slightly at the last part, her voice getting smaller as she went on, and Nikolai could guess at what she meant.
“It’s why I haven’t visited you, yes. But our wedding day it was just nerves. Truthfully, I was scared that you had run away, and that was what was taking so long, and I lost my nerve and went and hid in the workshops.” She let out a breathy laugh at that, and Nikolai felt hopeful for the days ahead.
“You really do love building things, huh? Definitely not a very kingly thing to do, running away to go build things.”
“I’ve always loved making things. It’s more of a ‘Nikolai’ thing than a ‘King of Ravka’ thing, like you said, but it’s where I feel at home. There or on-” he cut himself off, not sure if he should reveal that part of himself.
Ah, what the hell. She needed to know something true about him, even if it wasn't about the demon.
“There or on the True Sea. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours about where I went for those years when nobody could find me.”
Her eyes went wide. "Wait, you're Sturmhond?"
"Yep," altering his voice back to the accent he had used as the privateer. "The one and only, and just as handsome in the flesh." He laughed then, realising something. “I guess I have a habit of running away from things. Although running away from University was because I didn’t think they could teach me anything new or that I couldn’t teach myself, so- Saints, sorry. That probably sounded really arrogant and like I think I’m better than them and I don’t, I just read a lot when I was a child because I like learning, so I-”
“Kolya! It’s fine,” she giggled, and Saints, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. “I know you didn’t mean it in that way, and honestly you were just digging yourself further and further into a hole there.” All he could do was stare at her, though.
“You called me Kolya.”
“Oh, would you rather I didn't? It just sort of slipped out. I don't have to call you that if you'd rather I didn't?” She was panicking slightly, so Nikolai reassured her, making sure she knew that it was fine to call him by the nickname.
The air between them turned comfortable again, when all of a sudden the carriage went over a dip in the road, jolting them and sending Y/N flying.
Into his lap.
His hands automatically went around her, one on her back, the other gripping her thigh, holding her in place so that she didn't fall, while both of hers landed on his chest. Their faces were so close he could feel her breath against his mouth, and their noses were brushing against each other. She was straddling him, legs on either side of his thighs, and his heart was beating so fast that he could have sworn she would be able to feel it through his jacket.
"Uh... Kolya?"
Saints, he needed to get her off of him.
Luckily she did it herself a second later, levering one of her legs over to the other side so that she was sat next to him. The carriage was small enough that they were squished in sat like that, and her thigh was pressing into his. He was sure his face was burning, and looking at her, she wasn't doing much better. He clenched his hands into fists in his lap, trying to ignore his reaction to having her sat on him.
"You okay? I can move back over if you want?" Y/N's voice was quiet, and as she got up to sit back where she was, he grabbed her wrist. She flinched slightly, eyes wide, and he quickly took it back.
"Sorry, I just... you don't have to move, darling," his voice was lower than he'd hoped, and he could tell that she'd noticed. Damn it. She sat back down, still next to him, and he cleared his throat.
The atmosphere was back to being awkward.
They spent the next ten minutes in silence, glancing at each other then quickly looking away when caught. Nikolai was glad when they came to a stop just outside the next town and he could breathe fresh air. He helped Y/N down, flushing when she put her hand in his. She stumbled slightly on the step, falling into him for the second time that day, and he heard her breath hitch in her throat.
"Alright?" he asked, hand on her waist again. She nodded in response, righting herself. They turned around to see the twins and Zoya watching them, Tamar with an eyebrow raised.
"Come on, lovebirds. Let's get you on the horses."
The aim of the tour was to show off the new Queen to the people, so Nikolai and Y/N would ride horses through the main roads up to the inn they would stay in for that night. It was bringing back memories from when he did the same thing with Alina, and although he had had feelings for her, he knew that what he felt for Y/N was far stronger.
This town was far more inviting than the previous one had been, with people lining the streets, cheering for the newly crowned monarch. Nikolai hadn't had the time to do this for his own coronation, and most people knew about him anyway, but he was pleased to see so many happy that they were there. He looked over at Y/N, smile wide on her face as she greeted people like she'd known them her whole life.
They had barely made it to the market square where they would dismount when a woman came rushing towards them, pushing through the crowd.
"Y/N! Y/N!!"
Her head whipped around, searching for the voice, and when she found it she squealed - actually squealed - practically leaping from her horse, running to the woman (who looked weirdly similar to Y/N) and throwing her arms around her. Nikolai realised with a jolt that she did know these people, and that the woman was her mother (which he'd like to claim as his observation skills, but really it was when she greeted the woman as 'mother'). He climbed off of his own horse, handing the reigns to one of the stable hands and thanking him. Y/N was still embracing her mother when he walked over to them, and they were talking so animatedly he wasn't sure how they were still hugging.
"Ah! Moi Tsar!" Y/N's mother curtsied, which both he and her daughter went to rectify.
"Oh, there's no need. You're Y/N's mother?" he asked, and she nodded in response. "Then family doesn't need to use formalities. And Nikolai, please." He flashed one of his smiles, hoping it would help win her over, but he clearly didn't need to worry as she launched herself at him, flinging her arms around him in a hug. He was surprised momentarily, but quickly recovered, wrapping his arms around her with a chuckle. When she pulled away she introduced herself, then promptly dragged Nikolai and Y/N over to a group of people at the back of the crowd. At the delighted sounds and cheers they gave, he assumed they were more relatives, and when they introduced themselves they confirmed his suspicions. The two of them spent the afternoon with her family, and he found that he was thoroughly enjoying himself, learning lots about her childhood and her family, baby pictures being brought out at some point (much to Y/N's dismay - she tried to wrestle them out of her mother's hands). Dinner was wonderful, cooked by Y/N's mother (who refused to let either of the monarchs help, even though they tried multiple times), and the conversation was easy.
By the time they were collected by Tamar, Nikolai felt far more like himself than he had for months. The last time he had felt this free was when he was Sturmhond, sailing on the Volkvolny.
It was nearly dark now, the sunset casting a glow over the town, and Y/N slid her arm through his, closing her eyes and basking in the warmth.
"I didn't realise this was your hometown. We should come back sometime, visit your family again," he said.
"I'm sure mother would love that, she was practically head over heels you the moment she saw you!"
He laughed, saying "I do have that effect on people, it's truly a blessing having a face as damnably handsome as mine. But don't worry, I won't start anything with your mother." She wrinkled her nose, then pretended to gag, and Nikolai laughed even harder.
"Saints, I did not enjoy the image that just came into my head, ugh." Y/N shuddered, clearly completely grossed out.
"We're here, let's get inside, there's a bed in there with my name on it," Zoya called out, and they followed her through the door of the inn. It was small, but homely, a fire in the front room warming the area and making Nikolai feel cosy here. Room keys were given out, but when Tamar handed Nikolai his, that was the last one. He frowned in confusion, since Y/N hadn't received hers yet.
"What about me?" She was also confused, but Tamar just said:
"You're going to have to share tonight. Don't worry, there's two beds, so you'll be fine." Nikolai stared at her, thinking she'd lost her damn mind.
"Tamar, a word?" He shot Y/N an apologetic look, then herded Tamar, her brother and Zoya into a separate, empty room. "Why are we sharing?" he demanded.
"You'll be fine, Nikolai. We'll give you the stronger sedative, you're in separate beds, and the twins have offered to take turns keeping watch outside your door, so if anything happens, they'll know, and we can hopefully stop it before it gets bad," Zoya explained, a small smile on her face. He couldn't help but feel that they had planned this.
"What? Oh, no, I'm not worried about that, I'm sure it'll be fine. I'm more concerned about the fact that we are sharing a room for the first time in a small room in a small inn!" He got dangerously close to shouting, calming himself down with some deep breaths. The three of them had to know that Nikolai and Y/N had not shared a room at night before, so why was it happening now? And why did it have to happen on the same day as having her in his lap and meeting her entire family?
"Like we said, there's two beds, so it's not like you're going to be sleeping on top of each other. Just calm down, and it will all be fine," Tamar soothed.
It was not all fine.
Tamar had lied.
There was only one bed.
"I'll sleep on the floor, I've slept in worse conditions," he said once he found his voice, both of them stood stupidly in the doorway.
"No, no, no, you take the bed. You forget that I have also slept in worse places than this. I'll sleep on the floor."
"What sort of husband would I be if I let my wife sleep on the floor? No, just give me a pillow and the throw and I'll be fine." He was panicking slightly now; he hadn't accounted for the fact that there might only be one bed, and that put Y/N in far greater danger if the demon came out because it was uncomfortable on the floor.
"Ugh, okay. A compromise. How about we both sleep in the bed?"
"Wh- uh... Are you sure? We haven't... we haven't even shared a room yet," now he was panicking because she had just offered to share the damn bed, and he wasn't sure he would ever get to sleep when the memory of her sat on him, cheeks flushed, came back to him.
"I mean, it's not like we're going to be naked or anything, right? And we're both mature adults, so I'm sure we can make it through one night together. That and we are actually married? Not sure if you remember that, but..." she was teasing him now, easing the tension.
"You know what? I do vaguely remember some sort of ceremony, lots of people, a beautiful girl..." he winked at her, getting braver as he went. He internally cheered when she blushed, scoffing slightly.
"Flirt."
"I don't need to flirt, we're already married, darling."
"You didn't propose, though, so maybe you do need to flirt. Since the whole marriage was arranged?" Was she outright asking him to flirt with her? He didn't mind if she was. Apparently he was getting his charm back when around her, so he wasn't opposed to it at all. She also hadn't told him to stop calling her 'darling' this time, assuming that she actually enjoyed the pet name and pocketing that piece of information away. They spent the next ten minutes getting ready for bed, swapping halfway through to take turns using the small bathroom that joined onto the main bedroom. Nikolai had gone in first, so now he was sat on the edge of the bed (they had picked sides already, although it was more Y/N had picked a side and he'd had to go where she wasn't), vial of sedative in hand. He couldn't decide when to take it, since it knocked him out pretty fast. Should he take it now, and avoid any questions? Or should he wait until she was asleep? His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, Y/N stepping through. She was dressed in her nightclothes, and once again Nikolai found himself thinking about the carriage ride that morning.
"Are you okay? You look... not upset, but not happy," she asked, worry lacing her tone.
"I'm fine," he replied, and Y/N scoffed.
"Yeah, as a woman I can tell you that whenever someone says 'I'm fine' they're not fine. But if you don't want to talk about it I won't pressure you, okay? Similarly I'm here if you do want to," she said, the worry being replaced by something softer. She moved around the room, packing away her clothes from the day and brushing her hair.
"It's a sedative. To help me sleep."
She stopped brushing, turning her head to look at him in confusion. Placing the brush down, she walked back over to the bed, sitting down beside him.
"The thing you're holding? Do you get nightmares?"
"Yes to the first one. Technically yes to the second? But that's not why I take it." He was taking a risk, telling her this, but if today had told him anything it was that he was completely in love with Y/N, and that Zoya was, unfortunately, right, and he would rather the words came from him directly than Y/N found out through rumours, which she clearly hadn't heard since she'd been underground during the war. He would take it slow, reveal the truth in pieces to give her time to process it all.
"Oh. Do you have insomnia or something?"
"I'm possessed by a remnant of one of the Darkling's nichevo'ya and every now and then it wakes up at night to eat something."
So much for taking it slow.
He grimaced, looking over at her face. Her eyes had widened, mouth open slightly, and while he knew it was completely the wrong time he couldn't help but think about what it would be like to kiss her.
"You... what?"
"During the war, the Darkling attacked the Spinning Wheel, have you- you know about it? Alright. It was awful, so many good people died. His nichevo'ya ripped a man apart in front of us. When one of them headed straight for me I thought it would just... kill me." He paused, taking a breath and fighting back the memories of what came next. "I had been wounded, and he sent one of them... into me through the wound? That sounds stupid, actually, but I can't think how else to put it. It took over; I couldn't think for myself, couldn't read, couldn't talk. He'd stripped me of everything I pride myself on." Another pause, another breath.
"You don't have to keep going, if it hurts too much," she whispered, and he was grateful for her calmness to the information that he was possessed.
"No, it's... it's alright. I'm just trying to think about it as little as possible."
"Okay then. So why didn't it just... disappear when the Darkling died? The Fold did."
"Honestly? I'm not entirely sure. We've theorised that because he used merzost to create them, they're outside the laws of nature and therefore outside the law that if he dies, so does his power. But for about three months after the war it was dormant. Something triggered it, woke it up, and now I spend every night wondering if I'll wake up back in that body."
"So the sedative helps? Puts you deep enough under that it stops the demon?"
"Supposedly. Normally there's chains as well, but given we're sharing a bed I think we'll forgo those tonight."
"...Chains?"
"Yeah. That's why Zoya comes to my room, by the way. We're not... she's locking me up for the night to try and stop me escaping, which I think she enjoys a lot more than she should."
"Right."
He took another breath before taking off his gloves.
"Nik..." she gasped slightly at the blackened veins of his hands, reaching out to touch them, but hesitating.
"Even when the demon wasn't awake, I had this. Nothing we tried got rid of it. It won't hurt either of us, if you want to touch," he said, and he could have died a happy man when her fingers brushed his bare ones for the first time since they met. How are they so soft? It didn't make sense, especially given her upbringing in fields and having training sessions in the Little Palace, but he wasn't going to complain. He was feeling her skin for the first time, and he couldn't help but lean into her slightly. They sat like that for a while, her hand tracing over both of his.
"Thank you, Nikolai. That can't have been easy for you. So really, thank you."
"If there's a chance it might wake up and eat you tonight I'd rather you had some idea of what you were up against." She started at that.
"Will it eat me? Like is that a genuine worry I should have? Because I'll get someone else to sleep next to you if I might die, no matter how much I care about you." His heart skipped a beat knowing she cared about him, and he couldn't stop staring at their linked fingers.
"Hopefully not. So far it's satisfied with just livestock, but the twins are taking turns outside the door just in case it comes out so they can get you to safety. Obviously we don't want that to happen, but we've planned for every eventuality. Although I won't lie I didn't know there was only one bed in here. I'm convinced that they did and they're just trying to get us together." She laughed, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Well if you don't chew my arm off in the night, then I'll call that a success and their plan worked."
They spent another few minutes in comfortable silence, laying with each others' fingers.
When she spoke, it took him by surprise.
"I was 13 when I got left. In the dark." She was quiet again after that, for so long that Nikolai thought she'd gone to sleep on his shoulder. "I never usually stayed the night at the Little Palace, but it was somebody's birthday or something, and Zoya said I could share with her, so I did. He - the Darkling - was there, he'd uh... he'd always chosen me and Zoya to go on missions and things, since we were the most powerful, and he said that we'd both done so well on our last one he wanted to give us something as a show of gratitude."
Nikolai was frozen where he sat, mind racing at all the possibilities of what could have happened, and desperately hoped that none of them occurred.
"I went with him, of course I did, he was like an older brother to me, and since I never had someone like that it felt nice. I was tired, though, didn't notice when we left the path and headed into the woods. He-" she broke off, and Nikolai's heart clenched.
"You don't have to keep going, my darling. Not if you don't want to."
"I want to. I trust you." Those six words made his heart swell, and he kept his mouth shut, letting her continue in her own time. She took a shaky breath before speaking again.
"He told me to close my eyes, said he didn't want me seeing the gift too early because it was a surprise. I never noticed him leave. When I opened my eyes because I couldn't hear him anymore, I was alone in a clearing somewhere in the woods. I knew nobody would hear me, but I also knew that I had no idea where I was, and I could get more lost by just running blindly. I tried using my powers to find something to help me, but I was scared, and that made me weaker. Someone came up behind me - I won't say who - and grabbed me, and I was still too scared to do anything. I couldn't even hit him, I was just... lying there, frozen. He uh... he just..." she was blinking back tears, and Nikolai wrapped his arms around her, letting her sob into his chest. Part of him wanted her to say who it was that had hurt her, done such a thing to her, just so that he could hunt him down and kill him, but he understood if she didn't want to. She was already telling him so much. They sat like that for Saints knew how long, her crying into him and his hands stroking her back. At some point she sat up, eyes puffy and red from crying, and Nikolai didn't resist the urge to wipe away her tears.
---
His fingers were gentle, and his eyes were watery and filled with worry and care, which only made Y/N want to cry again. Knowing that the reason he had left her on their wedding night was because he was possibly going to eat her alive allowed her to feel safe enough to trust him with her trauma too, and she felt like she owed it to him to tell him why she'd been so upset about it. Seeing him with her family today had helped, especially since they had all taken an immediate liking to Nikolai, but even her mother had said what a wonderful man he was, and Y/N couldn't help but agree. Her mother had also said that he was probably incredible in bed, at which point Y/N had walked away from the conversation.
Of all the reasons why her husband hadn't had sex with her though, she hadn't expected it to be because he might eat her. Literally.
As he wiped the last of the tears off of her face, she studied him in the candlelight. She knew he was handsome, sure, but she didn't think she'd actually been this close to him before (apart from the carriage ride, but she was trying desperately not to think about that and how good it had felt to be sat on him). He really was gorgeous, golden locks neatly styled on his head, although as she looked she realised a few strands had come loose, resting against his forehead. She brushed them back, pushing them to join the rest of his hair, and his breath caught in his throat.
The mood wasn't right to kiss really, given what had been shared, but Y/N felt lighter knowing that they trusted each other. That the reason he had left was the complete opposite of what she had assumed; even when he'd known her for less than a day, he'd wanted to protect her, not hurt her.
"Kolya?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
"Of course, darling."
He rested his forehead against hers, and she let her eyes fall shut. Their fingers were still linked, and she couldn't help but marvel at them. They were rough, obviously from his time in the army and multiple years at sea, but somehow still soft? Given how much he cared about his appearance, she wouldn't be surprised if he had some sort of special Fabrikator hand cream that made them feel this way.
"What are you thinking about?" It was a murmur, quiet enough that it didn't disturb their peaceful moment.
"You." He pulled his head away slightly, and she opened her eyes, worried that she'd gone too far. But then he had been flirting with her earlier, so surely she could do the same with him?
"Saints, the things you do to me," he breathed out, and she got butterflies in her stomach from how he sounded. Part of her wanted to kiss him, kiss every inch of him head to toe and let him do the same to her, but the other part knew that it hadn't been that long since she'd dredged up the memories of what had happened, and to do anything now might scare her and close her off again. She really didn't want that, desperate for this relationship to evolve into something more.
"We should get some rest, it's been a long day and tomorrow will be even longer," she managed, and he nodded, retracting his arms from around her. Y/N was disappointed at the loss of his warmth, but when they got under the covers and he pulled her closer, whispering "Is this okay?" into her ear, she decided she didn't want to be anywhere but in his arms.
"This is okay. Do you need to take the sedative?"
"Yeah, probably. Let me move my arm, hang on."
They spent a few moments shuffling about, since in his haste to have her close to him he'd trapped one of his arms under her body. He sat up slightly, and Y/N watched as he tipped the liquid down his throat, placing the vial back on the nightstand and lying back down. She was already mostly asleep, and apparently the sedative didn't take long to kick in, as a few seconds later she felt his breathing even out. The soft rise and fall of his chest lulled her further in to sleep, and she let it claim her.
~~~
The next morning, Y/N woke to the sunlight pouring in through the window, her head resting on something warm. Lifting her head slightly, she realised that she was lying on Nikolai's chest, the warmth of his body seeping through his thin shirt, one of her legs slung over his. His hand was holding her leg, bringing back the memories of the carriage ride, and an arm was wrapped around his waist. Now the warmth she felt was radiating from her face, blushing at the position they were in. Pushing herself up slightly, Y/N studied Nikolai.
He looked peaceful, blond locks in disarray from sleeping. Lifting the hand that had been resting on his chest, she traced the lines of his face, fingertips gentle as she did so. He had freckles, something she hadn't seen before, and she tried to count every one she found. His eyelids fluttered before opening, and Y/N held her breath. Blinking a few times before settling his eyes on her face that was only a few inches from his own, he smiled, whispering "Good morning, darling." His own hand reached up, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear, lingering there for a few moments.
"Morning, I take it you didn't... you know?"
"No, I didn't. At least I don't think so. I'm pretty sure someone would have put you in a different room if I had, to keep you safe," he replied. Nikolai hadn't taken his eyes off of her since waking up, and his hand was still by her face, thumb stroking her cheek, a soft smile still playing on his lips. Y/N couldn't help it, leaning in closer so that their noses brushed against each other like they did last night. He pushed himself up a little, breath fanning over her face. She closed the gap, gently pressing her lips to his, and his hand cupped her cheek, pulling her further into the kiss. The butterflies that had been building up over the last few weeks exploded, taking flight in her stomach. His lips were soft, melding perfectly to hers as if they were made for each other. They pulled away for breath, eyes lidded as they looked at each other before diving in again. Where the first kiss had been slow and gentle, this second one was deeper, Nikolai wrapping his free arm around Y/N's waist and bringing her closer as she levered herself further on top of his body, straddling his hips. She moaned into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head and slipping his tongue in.
They were interrupted by a loud knock on the door, startling them both as they swivelled to look in the direction of the sound.
"Wake up, lovebirds, it's breakfast time. Make sure you're packed up and ready to go afterwards as well," Tamar said, footsteps fading away as she left to go wake up the next room. Y/N turned back to Nikolai, still lying on top of him, and blushed at his own flushed face, eyes dark. His voice was hoarse when he spoke.
"We should probably listen to her, she gets cranky and throws the axes when people don't."
She couldn't help the feeling that grew when she heard him, voice low and rough, and could only nod in response, starting to lift herself off of him.
They spent the next few minutes getting ready, swapping use of the bathroom like the night before to get dressed. Stood in front of the mirror, Y/N tried cooling herself down with cold water, using her abilities to make the water colder. There was a soft tapping on the door, and she opened it to see Nikolai, fully dressed, not a hair out of place.
"You alright?" she asked.
"Hm? Oh yeah, yes. I just..." he was holding his gloves, fiddling with them but not putting them on. He looked uncertain, nervous, and Y/N couldn't help but think how strange it was, given how confident he usually was. "That wasn't a one-time thing, right?" The question surprised her, and she quickly shook her head.
"No! Uh, I mean, if... I'd like it to happen again," she trailed off, not looking him in the eye. He stopped fussing with the gloves, one of his hands coming up to tilt her chin upwards as he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on her lips. She chased after him as he pulled away, already missing him, and he smiled, a small one that somehow she knew was reserved just for her.
"Alright then. Are you ready? We should probably head down soon."
"Yeah, I'm ready."
She slipped her arm through his, and he put his gloves on, covering up the black veins of his hands. Nikolai opened the door just as Tamar raised her hand to knock, her expression changing from angry to surprised.
"You took your time, we've been up for ages. Come on, I'm starving."
Breakfast was taken in the small food hall of the inn, and Y/N didn't leave Nikolai's side the whole time, keeping one hand in his. Zoya noticed, shooting a questioning look, but Y/N refused to answer her at this point in time, hoping the general would leave it for now and pester her later. Nikolai kept pressing small kisses to her temple or the hand that he was holding, making her blush, but she didn't hate the attention he was giving her.
By the time they had finished breakfast and packed up the carriage, Y/N was sure that everybody in the town had made note of the difference in how the married couple were acting, and as she said goodbye to her mother the woman leaned in and said "Make sure you're using protection, sweetheart. Unless you're trying for an heir already!" Y/N choked on air, quickly waving goodbye and promising to come back and visit soon. Getting into the carriage, she was still coughing slightly, and Nikolai looked up, concerned.
"Are you alright? Is something wrong? Do you need me to-"
"Nikolai! I'm okay, I just..." she paused, and his worry only seemed to increase. "My mother thinks we had sex."
"Oh. I mean... she's not far off, is she? Ow!" He clutched his arm where she had (lightly) punched him, and she couldn't help but giggle. Y/N moved next to him, and he automatically shifted so that she could rest her head on his shoulder.
This is nice, she thought as the carriage started moving. This is really nice. Waving goodbye to everyone gathered, she sunk further into Nikolai's body, letting him wrap an arm around her in a hug. The ride passed without incident, although when Tolya came to collect them to get them on the horses he had to tailor them a little to make it less obvious that the two had been making out most of the way there.
That night, Y/N and Nikolai shared the bed again, savouring the slight domesticity and kisses that came with it. They shared the bed the next night, and the one after that as well, sharing kisses and stories of their childhoods before falling asleep in each others' arms.
Chapter 7
#grishaverse#netflix shadow and bone#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lanstov x reader#nikolai x reader#nikolai lanstov x y/n#nikolai x y/n#king of scars
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life series smp winners playlists part 2
we're back! for those who don't know, i'm putting together songs that i think fit each of the life series winners, and they're either songs i've seen work really really well in animatics already or songs that would probably work really well, but are less popular or not associated with this fandom (yet)
i'll be linking+listing them here as well as providing little snippets of explanation for why i think the song fits, but i don't feel like making actual spotify playlists or smth, so if anyone else wants to do that, be my guest.
i still had trouble finding good songs for some of them (this one especially)- if anyone seeing this has a good idea that i missed, lmk and i'll update these posts (no promises tho)
pt 1 (3L!Grian)
pt 3 (DL!Pearl)
Last Life: Scott
Boss Bitch - Doja Cat: alright, kickin it off strong! picked this song for the gaslight gatekeep girlboss energy and little else
Yeah, ain't tryna be cool like you
Wobblin' around in your high-heeled shoes
I'm clumsy, made friends with the floor
Two for one, you know a bitch buy four
And two left feet, you know I always drop
(this line because of this post and this post alone)
I'm a bitch, I'm a boss
I'm a bitch and a boss, I'ma shine like gloss
(need i say more)
Said, I took it and I ran for it
I won it then I stand on it
(NEED I SAY MORE)
2. Two - Sleeping at Last: as i mentioned i had some trouble finding songs for scott since i dont watch his pov too often, so some of these are less exclusively last life and more just his character in general. that being said, i do feel like this still fits to an extent for LL!Scott
Sweetheart, you look a little tired
When did you last eat?
Come in and make yourself right at home
Stay as long as you need
(this is scott's total eldest sibling energy, always helping and trying to be friends before anything- ex: taking in cleo, being friendly to scar)
You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat
(this applies more after last life, see: the many many many times he offers to sacrifice himself, but also the fact that he refuses to betray his friends as the boogeyman)
Like a force to be reckoned with
A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss
I will love you without any strings attached
And what a privilege it is to love
A great honour to hold you up
(very representative of scott's trust and loyalty to his allies in every series, through both chaos and peace)
3. Constellations - The Oh Hellos: at first this one was only here for the star symbolism, but after listening to it a couple more times it does fit pretty well (also the oh hellos is very scottagecore)
'Cause like constellations a million years away
Every good intention, every good intention
Is interpolation, a line we drew in the array
Looking for the faces
Looking for the shapes in the silence
(despite all his efforts to maintain alliances throughout the series, everything inevitably falls apart in the chaos of the finale)
Like constellations imploding in the night
Everything is turning, everything is turning
The shapes that you drew may change beneath a different light
And everything you thought you knew
Will fall apart, but you'll be all right
(LL was really the only series in which they made a point to isolate the reds- in DL, there was always a pair, and alliances stayed solid despite name color in LimL and SL- but in LL, alliances could be torn apart so quickly, loyalties constantly changing which made it hard to trust others and that shows why scott's loyalty stood out)
4. How to Be a Heartbreaker - Marina and the Diamonds: this is another one that isn't exclusively LL, i just had to put one in abt scotts many ex's.
Rule number one is that you gotta have fun
But, baby, when you're done, you gotta be the first to run
Rule number two, just don't get attached to
Somebody you could lose
(i see these "rules" kind of as lessons learned from each season instead, like things he tells himself he'll do next time, but because of his loyal and caring nature, never can)
How to be a heartbreaker
Boys they like the look of danger
We'll get him falling for a stranger
A player, singing I lo-lo-love you
At least I think I do
(really like i said, a play on the ex's)
5. The Garden - The Crane Wives: here it is, the obligatory crane wives song
Put your ear to my heart or set your teeth against my throat
Give me something pretty to wear beneath my blood-stained clothes
(something abt this line is just very scott to me)
Lay me down
Pour the dirt into our bed
Tell the crows
They can have their pound of flesh
The ghosts at the window echo all our quiet prayers
When they come for us, they'll come with hammers and nails
My darling, the devil knows my name
My name
My name
(this comes from the things i've seen about how the watchers hate scott, the watchers here symbolized as "the crows" and "the devil")
6. A Terrible Ride - Lizard Boy: this one is an animatic recommendation! here's the animatic -also i think this is applies to most of the winners very angst
I used to be calm
But now this ticking bomb is gonna go off
(the way he goes after ren for revenge after pearl's death)
I fought and fought hard
And I could've died
But I got scarred
A terrible ride
Ride
This game was not fun
I thought it was right
Because I won
Was it worth the fight?
Fight?
(WATCH THE ANIMATIC)
Written in the starss
This could have been ours
(what can i say, im a sucker for the star symbolism)
and that's all for scott! DL!pearl coming soon!
#life series winners#traffic smp#trafficblr#life series smp#pearlescentmoon#the life series#gtws#grian#scott smajor#martyn inthelittlewood#life series spoilers#last life#last life smp#3rd life#secret life#double life#limited life
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I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name |
Part Five
A/n: Two updates in a day?? I honestly couldn't help myself, this series is practically writing itself at this point.. Going to start on the next part soon x
Thank you to everyone who msged and enjoying this btw, it means a whole lot!!:)
Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.
The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.
Masterlist
--
Matty was waiting outside the bathroom for me once I’d finally managed to pull myself together.
I probably looked a right state, having had to wash off the majority of my makeup in the sink, eyes still puffy and red from crying. He still smiled though when he saw me, kicking off the wall to pad on over.
“You alright?”
I shot him a sarky sort of look that likely said a thousand words.
“Yeah okay, stupid of me to ask.” He backtracked with a breathy chuckle. “You need anything else then? Just started lashing it down, so I don’t think that cab of yours will be coming anytime soon.”
With a glance over my shoulder at one of the hallway’s large arched windows I saw that he was right. Perfect way to end my birthday I supposed.
“A change of clothes?” I answered him with a wry smile, suddenly feeling far too overdressed. He dropped his chin at me.
“'Course. Hoodie and joggers do you fine?”
I was quick to nod at him and was gifted a bright grin in turn before Matty started to lead me towards his bedroom.
“So, how much did you hear?” I found myself asking him as we wandered inside, him heading straight towards the dresser whilst I took a seat on his bed, glancing about.
“Not much, mostly just the end.” He told me honestly, riffling through a drawer.
Matty’s room wasn’t what you’d first expect upon meeting him. He had this sort of chaotic messy kind of vibe you either loved or hated, but his bedroom was a total contrast to that. He was a total contrast to that, really.
It had light colour-washed walls with pretty sconces that warmed the room’s entirety, even with the rain pouring it down outside. His bed was neatly made, lined with light soft linens and a plethora of heavy blankets.
His chest of drawers was the only place of clutter, it was where his songbook resided alongside a bitten down pencil and pen. He kept a stash box up there too, beside the tv for nights when he couldn’t sleep, as well as a couple of other miscellaneous items. I smiled at the photo he had framed of us all.
“Here.” Matty said as he tossed me a bundle of clothes. I peered down at them and grinned at the large tour hoodie he’d found for me, alongside a soft long-sleeved tee and a pair of trackies.
“Thank you.”
He rolled his eyes at my manners, “Just get changed then come find us, yeah? Reckon Carls might be passed out by the time you get there though, so don’t hold out any hope for her singing you a happy birthday.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, “You wouldn’t dare.”
Matty’s amused laugh merely carried him out of the room though and he shut the door behind him.
I released a loud sigh as the quiet engulfed me once more and contemplated just following Carly’s supposed lead, falling back into the comforting cocoon that was Matty’s sheets.
It truly was a hard task getting myself to move again.
—
“Now, I know you said you didn’t want any fuss-”
“What she actually said was, that if we sung her a happy birthday she’d string us up by our balls and leave us to the pigeons.”
“Yes, thank you, Ross.” Matty quipped with a hefty huff, swatting Ross’ big head away from the cake he was currently holding. Five lit candles taking up the middle. “Anyway, happy birthday, love. Hope you get everything you wish for.” He added as he held it out towards me, prompting me to blow out the rapidly dwindling wicks.
I swallowed and tried for a smile, one that I found I could actually muster surrounded by all of my closest mates. I took a second to look around at them. At Adam and Carly who were smiling happily, the latter tucked up under the arm of her husband, eyes bleary with sleep. Then towards a grinning Ross, who seemed overly eager to tuck into the iced dessert. I reckoned we were both hoping for a gooey chocolatey centre. And back to where Matty, my current favourite of the lot, was beaming, face lit up by the flickering flames.
I chuckled quietly to myself.
Then finally there was George, who was slumped slightly in his seat, elbows sat on his knees, wearing a tiny smile whilst he watched the rest of us almost from the outskirts.
Even with everything that had happened between the pair of us earlier, I couldn’t find it in me to not want him there. It had always been the five of us, six now with Carly. And I really didn’t want to look back on this moment, my first proper birthday celebration in years, and not have him there.
He glanced towards me then too, as though he'd felt my stare, his eyes full of an odd mixture of emotions. I offered him a hesitant smile and tried not to pay attention to the way my stomach whirled at the sight of the one I received in return.
I closed my eyes as I leant in. Taking a deep breath before making my birthday wish.
Laughing lightly, I reopened them, listening and watching on as they all whopped loudly around me, clapping heartily in cheer. I snorted when Matty almost dropped the cake on its top, him scowling at Ross who had bounded a little too close, and in that moment I’d never felt so incredibly wanted.
—
I stood by the front door now, saying my final goodbyes to the last remaining two. Adam and Carly had left a little while earlier, once the rain had died down somewhat, wanting to get back home before Carly conked out on the settee. We’d all shared a few hugs and kisses then, making promises to get together again as soon as possible before they’d jumped in the awaiting cab.
Ross and George had stuck around for a while longer, sharing a joint between us and finishing off the round of beers that had just been brought in. We spent that time reminiscing, reliving the old days. Which had been a little tough at first but also wonderful at the same time. During it, George and I had shared more than a few too many fond looks for my heart to handle.
I blinked now that it was just him and I stood in the entryway. Ross out in the driveway, trying to spot their Uber in the dark. I peered up at George, but he was already looking back. Something that hadn’t seemed to have changed in the time we’d been apart. His eyes darted between mine in the dim light.
“You'll be alright?” He questioned and immediately I knew what he was referring to. We knew each other best after all.
I nodded, toeing the door's sill plate. “I’ll be okay. I’m that tired, I don’t think I’ll have much time to think about it, about her.”
He gave a faint hum in return. “She said anything then?”
My gaze was stuck on the floor tiles I was mapping out with my foot. I shrugged a shoulder, “Not that I know of. Sent a card in the post earlier this week, haven’t opened it.”
It surprised me when his hand found mine then, it slipped right into place as though it had never even left. I inhaled sharply and looked up. He gave a hesitant smile, eyebrows knitted.
“She never deserved you.”
It’s what he'd always told me, whenever the past played on my mind. Whenever something got dredged up or another holiday passed us by.
“Still hurts though.”
He drew me in for another hug, this one more natural than the last we'd shared. Under no scrutiny from the others.
I let him hide me from the world for a long moment.
He still smelt the same. I'd noticed it earlier, so I knew that he was still using the same aftershave I’d always bought him. It made me wonder if it was the same bottle I’d gotten him, or if he’d had to go out and buy a new one himself. If he’d thought of me whilst doing it.
Ross called out for him then, the car was here, and I had to advert my eyes away as we pulled apart.
George threw a reply over his shoulder, whilst his hand took mine once more before he finally had to go.
“Happy birthday, Birdie.” He murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek and squeezing my hand. Then he was gone. Disappearing down the gravelled driveway and into the dark.
The wind rippled around me then, forcing me to step back inside and shut the door, but still I couldn’t quite seem to catch my breath.
—
Matty was attempting to tidy the bombsite we’d made of his house when I found him. I paused in the doorway to simply watch him for a minute and grinned lazily when he glanced up, catching me.
“Heading off to bed, need any help in here?”
Matty looked around at the room only to then shake his head, waving me off. “Nah, you’re all good. Might need a hand or two in the morning though.”
“Don’t even have to ask.” I assured him, my smile tired as I propped my body up against the doorframe. “Fry up too?”
He hummed happily at the sound of our post-hangover ritual. “First one up has to order." He grinned, then jerked his head over at me, "Go on, head up.”
“Alright, night, and thank you for today, Matty.”
“Don’t mention it, darling. Glad you had a good time.”
“Love you.” I murmured still.
He spared me a warm smile. “Love you too, birthday girl.”
I had to chuckle.
“Not my birthday anymore!” I called out to him as I started my retreat, smiling softly at the faint laugh I heard echo behind me.
And as I wandered through the rest of the quiet house and up into the guest bedroom I’d since claimed as my own, I felt my phone vibrate in the pocket of the hoodie I wore. It was early morning now, so I guessed that the timer I’d set on all my notifications must’ve have ended hours ago.
I tugged it free before crawling under the sheets, too tired and still a little too drunk to bother with the faff of getting myself ready for bed. With the table lamp dimmed, I settled, tugging the duvet up under my chin.
It was then that my breath got caught in my throat. Taken aback, I peered down at my phone screen, seeing the most recent message I’d received.
G💋:
Hope you had a good day, Birdie
You looked so happy
I sat up slightly, staring blankly at the message that had just come through whilst I toyed with my bottom lip.
The last text he’d sent me was over six months ago now, one I hadn’t even bothered replying to. A simple 'sorry'.
I could only swallow down the sudden anxiety I felt when those forsaken bubbles popped up at the bottom of the screen, a couple more messages shortly followed.
Was wondering if we could meet, tmw maybe?
Want to talk again, explain it all properly
Tonight made me realise so much
Fuck. I squeezed my eyes closed. All the tiredness I’d just been feeling eradicated by the mere thought of seeing him again, so soon.
Another buzz.
The screen had since dimmed but I could still make out the last text that had come through. My eyes welled.
Sleep tight, Birdie x
I threw my phone down by the foot of the bed and groaned into my pillow, not even giving myself the chance to reply.
Still, I tossed and I turned all night.
—
“Wow, dead sexy.” Matty welcomed sarcastically, smirking at me from behind his coffee mug as I trodded into the kitchen the next morning. “Tell me, this look you’re going for, is it avant-garde or a grunge kind of chic?”
I gave him a tightlipped smile, rubbing at my bleary eyes before scowling.
“Ha ha. Hilarious. But this is actually what running on zero sleep looks like.” I retorted as I sunk into the bar stool opposite him. “Fucking hanging too.”
He snorted and so I glared up at him.
“How’re you so chipper anyway? You drank more than me.”
Matty shrugged at me with a smug smile, “Yeah but I wasn’t the one throwing back vodka shots with Ross at two am.”
I winced, I’d sort of forgotten about that. I currently had much more pressing things on my mind.
I slumped across the island and let out an annoying groan. Matty combed the hair that had fallen from out of my face as he proceeded to chuckle.
“Breakfast’s on its way.” He reassured me, then pushed a tall glass of water as well as two paracetamol across the counter.
Thank the world for small mercies.
“Want a brew?”
I raised my head at Matty's question and smiled up at him when he stood, “You’re the best.”
“It's what they all say.”
I rolled my eyes in retort, fingers finding my phone again, just as they had been doing ever since it had woken me up with its constant ringing this morning.
When Matty puttered back over, he raised a brow at me in question and pushed a warm mug in my direction.
With a sigh, I put the phone down and cupped it in my hands. “Thank you.”
“Welcome. So you gonna tell me what’s got you all wound up now? Feels like I might have to talk you off a ledge here.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Nah not just yet, but hold out hope- my hero. Today feels like it’ll be a tough one.”
“Why, what’s happening today?”
I toyed with the rim of the mug, watching as the steam danced up and over its edge. “Just, George messaged me after he left last night.”
“Right…” Matty drawled out, “And that’s a bad thing?”
“Not necessarily.” I shook my head, then shrugged again. “I don’t know. He just said he wants to talk, properly.”
“And you don’t?” He asked me, watching or waiting for my reaction.
I inhaled slowly, pulling away from the cup to rub at my face. “I’m just so confused. I don’t want to fight with him. But I don’t want to lose him all over again.”
Matty’s expression was understanding but I was relieved when he walked around to give me a much needed hug. He rocked us slightly, left and right, my face buried in his shoulder.
“I think you should meet him.” He murmured above my head, “It’ll do you both some good. Might even be able to sort shit out.”
We parted and I looked back at him from under a furrowed brow. “And if we don’t, then what?”
Matty sighed, “Then we cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Part six>
#the 1975#george daniel#the 1975 band#george daniel fic#george daniel the 1975#george 1975#george daniel x reader#matty#matty healy#matty 1975#george daniel x you#adam hann#ross macdonald#carly holt#1975 band#fic#series#ao3#multi part fic#angst#fluff#humour#drinking#birthday#breakups#reader#x reader#x you#y/n#best friend matty
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hello it's me again! (the one with the J names lmao i'll sign off with anon name at the end. since i'm sure i'll be back often) this isn't going to be as long as the first one but hmm. regarding the lastest update, reading the comments so far etc, I feel like I'm alone in this lmao. but, I just felt a lil iffy at the way Pocket was pushing Sam to spill. But then again, I don't blame her because she just needs that extra reassurance that Bucky wasn't lying since she obviously doesn't trust him and rightfully so.
But also, the thing about Bucky not telling her outright about this part, I don't think it necessarily has something to do with Pocket or his trust with her, but more, his own insecurity? because I would argue, Sam, Steve and even Judas don't exactly hold the same level of importance to Bucky compared to how Pocket does. So maybe he's more comfortable sharing that part about his past because if there was judgment involved, he could learn to shrug it off and deal with it. But when that judgment would come from Pocket (not that she ever would) it'd hurt SO much worse and it'd be something he couldn't live with. That's probably the reason why he was so embarrassed and scared to tell her, because of the "what if she thinks low of me" even if that will NEVER be true, but he's insecure with himself. He already thinks she can do better than him, and this part of him won't make him look good. and to add, a man from the 40s where vulnerability common etc etc.
And I get Pocket is angry right now, so I can see where she's coming from with the way she's taking it personally why he never told her. Because that can be hurtful. But I don't think it has something to do with her at all (and i mean that in a good way), and its more on Bucky's fragility and insecirty than anything else. Also, and I'm probably reaching here, she seems to lack empathy about it. or maybe just, looking at things in Bucky's perspective sometimes. Maybe were not seeing yet because she's running on anger at the moment, but after finding something like that out, especially since she still loves Bucky, you'd think she'd feel a little sad and hurt for what he went through? but yeah, she's angry so idk, maybe that's just me being too much of an empath lol. ANYWAYS, love the short and sweet update. can't wait for more!
— Jnon 🤍 (i couldn't think of anything else lmao)
Jnon,
DO YOU LIVE IN MY BRAIN?!?!
Because YES TO ALL OF THESE THINGS!!!
Pocket definitely does feel horrible about what Bucky went through— or, at least, she will, once she’s able to look past her own anger. She’s suffered her own sexual abuse, so there’s the double pain for her that 1) he seems to have told everyone else but her and 2) as she thinks in Chap 14, she was open with him about what she endured since day one, but she feels he didn’t trust her enough to offer her the same level of openness, and that hurts. She never, ever would have judged him for it, and would have absolutely been supportive, but he took that option away from her and instead left her in a position where she had no choice but to doubt he was even being honest with her. There’s a part of her (and I should have made more of an effort to include it in her thought process; that’s my bad) that wondered if he was bringing up sexual assault as an excuse because he knew that was a sensitive topic for her, and he was using it to garner sympathy. She’s just lost so much trust in him that she can’t think straight anymore and is second guessing everything.
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“I’m not dead,” he says, but it still almost sounds like a question.
“Not according to your vitals. Do you think you should be?”
Katsuki seems to consider that for a moment, eyebrows creasing as he tries to think back. He winces. “Yeah. Probably.”
A long and convoluted Bakugou-centric angst fic nearly a year in the making. Featuring Aizawa and Yamada in their parental roles as well as a slow-burn relationship between Bakugou, Kirishima, and Midoriya. The first part of what will inevitably be a long series of angst and love. Remember: no matter how badly it hurts, it will turn out in the end.
Tags will be added/altered as needed. Content warnings will be provided in the notes of each chapter. Please heed the warnings provided if you are sensitive to triggering content.
IT'S FINALLY HERE!! it's finally here. i'm really not sure i have anything else to say. i'll let the fic speak for itself.
if anyone wants added to the tag list lmk. pls
(tag list for updates and also help me reblog this pls: @vesterport @nielution @pancakemoment @wintosavesavetowin @sunflower-anatomy @kamiiin @epickiya722 @finnthemann @peternumber4 @justtorzaplease )
#bnha#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#incipient fic#combat fatigue fic#incipiupdates#incipient fic updates#combat fatigue fic updates#league of villains#spinner mha#mha fanfic#bnha fanfic#my hero academia fanfic#boku no hero academia fanfic#kats updates
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Re: art trademarks (except I know Nothing so this will probably be... abstract)
- obvious answer is the panelling, you get extremely creative with it and you're the first person I've seen doing all that ! You've been going especially crazy with it for the last updates and honestly I'm living for it. You just raised my standards so much, now I'm disapointed in everyone else for not unlocking the Full Potential lmao.
- Okay here I can't figure out how to explain myself. I'll do my best :'D The lineart. Is sharp is what I wanted to say, except it'd actually not ? So I guess what I meant is that you are decisive with your strokes. Like you know what you're doing. Determined.
- Still, i think there's a lot of softness in you work. It's very nice (as in "kind")
- the eyes (i can't explain further but. The eyes)
- CRAZY ATTENTION TO DETAILS. IN DESIGNS, THE ACTIONS, SETTING, EVERYTHING. YOU ARE ANYTHING BUT LAZY. WOW ???!!!
So yeah, I love it. Your art makes me think of when it's winter and its almost night so everything is blue even though it's only 5pm and also I'm like 7 in this scenario. (<- this doesn't mean anything but it's late here so my brain is starting to do pirouettes. Like a bellerina.) I'm going to sleep and hopefully tomorrow I'll be coherent. Have a nice day !
WOUGHH thank you for such a detailed answer!!! I think simple, effective paneling is its own skill worth admiring, but I really enjoy going full maximalist with it :D if you like that style, I can’t recommend Shirahama Kamome’s work enough if you haven’t checked it out already, she’s the absolute blueprint and a huge inspo for me
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Hi. And brain dump.
I started a hey-i-missed-tumblr-snd-life-update post yesterday. I'll probably come back to it later. Maybe.
I don't know where else to put this. Tumblr feels like the best, safest (as in "few ppl irl will see it" vs IG or FB), and most understanding place to put this.
Let me start with this: I'm safe and I know (ok, maybe right now hoping more than knowing) that things will get better, but right now...things are not good.
Ramsey is fine. My family is fine. My friends are fine. I have a safe home. I have food. I have reliable transportation. I have a job. I have a therapist I really like. But yet, I just feel so....empty...so...hopeless.
Do you ever just think, "How the fuck did I get here?"
And/or, "This isn't how things were supposed to be. How do I course correct? Is it even possible?"
And/or go back and replay every decision that you feel led you to where you are at - even if, at the time, the decision seemed right, but now all you can hear is the critical self-talk and feel every ounce of your body fill up with self-hatred?
I feel like a shell of myself. I used to be so strong and resilient. Most days, I feel weak & fragile.
What the fuck happened to me? Yeah, failure is never fun, but I'm so terrified of failing - hell, even making a mistake - that I don't even try. Anything. Ever.
It's like I'm so afraid that after a setback I won't ever recover from it that I don't strive for anything better. Ever.
Goals? Dreams? What are those? Plans? I used to make plans upon plans upon plans, but took little action, if any action at all. Now? I don't make plans at all.
I am constantly on edge. So many things cause intense anxiety. Most days it feels like I'm worrying about things that might happen and trying to anticipate how to handle said things (that likely will not happen and/or are completely out of my control) from the minute I wake up in the morning until the minute I drift off to sleep at night.
Do I know, deep down inside that I am worthy of and deserve a better? Yes. Do I feel like I am strong enough to build a life I want? No.
I'm hiding from the world. And I have been for a really fucking long time.
I feel slightly better just getting that out. Thank you, tumblrs.
I guess that's all...for now.
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