#BUT! I've figured out everything else though at least I'm pretty sure SO!

[echantedtoon]

A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch16 Setting Hearts A Blaze P2

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"Does something feel off to you today?"

"Hm? No. Not particularly. Why do you ask?"

It was a bit more nippy out today than usual. Really feeling that Christmas snow getting ready to come in. It had been at least almost three weeks since your aunt had gone on her trip to the wedding and came back. You had picked her up at the airport despite her insistence on getting a taxi back home, and on the long drive home had asked her about it.

"How was your trip?," you asked her with a smile as you began to pull out of your parking spot. "Did the ride back go well?"

"Honey, I think I'm gonna have to take a bus next time." She groaned stretching out her back. "Didn't know you could get jet leg from a plane."

"How was the wedding?"

"Pretty generic as far as weddings go. Wedding cake this. Walk down the aisle that. Though I might get some future business if I'm lucky."

"...Did you do as I asked?"

"Sweetheart." She smiled at you in a smirking knowing way. "Someone's gonna love you.~"

You gave her a weird confused look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, just wait and see.~"

"That still doesn't answer my question."

It still didn't. And your aunt wouldn't give you a straight answer. So you took it as a maybe it'll work or maybe it won't. You'll have to wait and see if anything did change. However days went on. November was passing by slowly and coldly. Soon enough it would be December and the time to start decorating for Christmas. Still no word from Kyojuro...then again you really hadn't seen or heard from him since he picked up Koto for Sanemi from the daycare. You didn't ask Mei or anyone else figuring it'd be rude to ask about someone else's business, and let it be.

However you couldn't shake the feeling that something seemed... different about today. You couldn't figure out why for the life of you even as you both were helping to pick up toys strewn about the place and disinfectant all the surfaces sticky little hands would touch but he had looked up hearing you ask him a question.

You shrugged spraying a toy stuffed bunny with disinfectant spray. "Oh I don't know. It just feels like something is off today is all."

"Did you leave anything on before you left the house?"

"No "

"Did you leave your house unlocked?"

"No."

"Perhaps you forgot to pick up something?"

"No. I paid my bills this month and I went grocery shopping yesterday. I got everything I needed." 

"Perhaps your classes?"

"I've been keeping up with both classes." The bunny was tossed into the toy box nearby and you moved on towards something else to clean. "I don't know what it is, but I just feel that something's off somehow."

He hummed again. "Whatever it is it's probably not too important if you aren't worried about it. I'm sure whatever it is will sort itself out soon enough."

"You're probably right. I'm just a bit stressed out with all the work I guess."

He was right. Whatever it was probably wouldn't be very important if you couldn't remember what it was or figure out what it is. It'll be forgotten about in no time at all. Which is why you put it mostly out of your mind. It was still in the back of your mind but mostly forgotten about in favor of finishing clean up with Gyomei and leaving to go do that day's part of the project with Giyuu and Shinobu. Giyuu had mentioned repeatedly wanting to go by his sister's restaurant again to try out the new home made breaded fish cutlets she was trying out. Sounded good to you but you weren't expecting to see some familiar faces in the park as you waited for a walk about.

It was just business as usual. You met up with the stoic couple. Gyomei opted for waiting again as he did want to make a call, something about a package mix up at the post office. And off you three went. Around one time, and then partially around the second time when you saw a familiar face..

Or rather a familiar face saw you.

"Y/N!!!" 

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the loud voice behind you. You turned- "AH!?" And was quickly scooped up by Giyuu who's face did not change when a pink and green blur whizzed past you both.

Mitsuri had skidded to a stop both arms thrown out still in mid tackle huh before those shiny green eyes blinked, and turned behind her. She let out a happy gasp again before squealing and running towards you both that seemed almost inhuman. This time Giyuu didn't move fast enough and both of you made surprised sounds when he was swept off his feet... Literally.

You blinked as you were sat there in Giyuu's lap with his arms securely wrapped around you, while he blinked as he in turn was held up bridal style by a very affectionate Mitsuri. ....Just how strong WAS this petite lady?! 

"It's you! It's you! It's you!," she squealed happily hopping about. "And Giyuu and Shinobu!~" She sang out before quickly gasping again in a hopeful beam. "Are you three going out?"

....You blinked as you tried to comprehend the situation. "Um...Were out here doing our project."

"Which we need to finish." Shinobu tapped the phone still recording like it was obvious.

Mitsuri gasped again. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!"

Slowly Giyuu was placed back down to his feet and you still processing what was going on just asked, "What are you doing here?"

I'm on a date with Tengen and Kyo!" With a turn and a full arm wave, she happily waved down two other people slowly walking up to you all. Tengen with an arm affectionately lazily resting around Kyojuro's shoulders. 

"GREETINGS!!" "How you doing?" They each greeted you both.

"We were on our way to this new restaurant that just opened up with these huge kabobs I wanted!...*sigh* But they were closed."

Shinobu smiled. "What a coincidence. We were just going to eat ourselves. Why not join us?"

She squealed again. "Really?! That's a great idea! We can all make it a triple date!"

"As soon as Giyuu puts Y/n down."

Said blue eyed man blinked before looking down at your form, suddenly realizing that you were still held, turned a bright pink, and then quickly put you down on your own feet muttering rapid fire apologies. Things sure went on a surprising twist that rest of the day. What turned into your plan on just joining a few friends for dinner and then going home turned into a triple surprise dinner date you were dragged into thanks to Shinobu. You didn't mind of course when you were finally able to process everything  but you did feel slightly guilty about springing it on Gyomei whom was just as surprised when the extra footsteps and voices reached his ears."

And the familiar bone crushing hug of Mitsuri wrapped around his middle. For a brief moment you wondered if she was strong enough to lift him up too or if Gyomei's unusual size and weight prevented her from doing so. You might never know because she didn't try to lift him up.

"It's quite a surprise to see you all here-," he said with a curious tilt of his head, "-but weren't you three going to that barbeque place you wanted to go to?"

"We were! But they're closed and we ran into you guys!" Mitsuri beamed throwing around her arms in excitement as she babbled. "We can all go together and make a date outta it! What do you say?!"

"Oh? That's a good idea but it would depend on what Y/n feels like doing."

"I don't mind." He turned his head to you. "It might be fun to hang out together."

That's how you found yourself walking all the way to the delicious smelling restaurant so familiar with you by now and shivering from the warmth cascading over your body from the inside. Tsutako was happy to see her brother and all him friends, happily greeting you all and gesturing to a large table to seat everyone. 

Perhaps it was a strange coincidence that you were sat right across from Kyojuro as the beaming man laughed loudly at some joke Tengen made that was loud enough to gain the attention of a few other tables in the small restaurant. A few orders later and you seven were left waiting and listening to Tengen telling the tale of the time he flashily narrowly escaped the clutches of a rabid wolf on a hiking trip and was only able to barely escape from it using his survival skills he learnt from his days as a boy scout-

"Wait. Are you talking about the time you jumped into a tree because a lady's rottweiler scared you at the park?," Giyuu asked bluntly silencing the taller man.

Tengen had frozen mix smile before he scowled hard at him. "NO!!"

"Yeah..I remember now. This big rottweiler ran up to you and you jumped into the oak tree. That dog was just a big puppy-"

"S-SHUT UP!!" Tengen's face burnt a bright red only made worse by Mitsuri's high pitched giggles and Kyojuro's loud booming laughs. 

"I remember that! I wanted to get one but the thought of Tengen climbing the furniture out of fear stopped me!"

"JUST DROP IT ALREADY!!"

You giggled at the hilarious reaction to everyone around the table leaving poor Tengen to pour red faced at everyone's expense. To be fair the thought of a huge man like Tengen jumping into a tree to escape a friendly dog was amusing. It'd be if Gyomei ran away from a tiny kitten or Shinobu swatting at a butterfly. The constant giggling only got Tengen to pour more however, mumbling something under his breath and looking away despite the sympathetic part on the shoulder Kyojuro gave him. 

However said firey man then surprised all of you by his next announcement. "How about a change of topic?" No one protested mostly because he spoke again before anyone could say anything else. "I wanted to wait until everyone else was present but they'll be told sooner or later anyways. I have incredible news!" His smile suddenly became as big as his plate. "My father has gotten a job!"

A small moment of silence was broken by Shinobu. "Of course he does. The dojo."

Red hair swayed as he shook his head. "No!..I mean YES!! Yes but no!"

"I'm confused."

"The strangest thing happened earlier this month!," he explained. Your attention immediately went from your cup of tea to the man right across from you, pausing mid sip. "He received a call from the Kimetsu Academy Chairman himself! He wants to hire Father as their new P.E. coach for the kendo team!"

"Eh. Ain't that the prestigious school your mom works at or something?"

"INDEED!!," He beamed proudly crossing his arms. "They only hire the best, so choosing my father proves just how good he really is! I'm very happy for him!" 

"And you're just telling us this now?"

"He didn't want anyone to know until he had time to make up his mind on the matter. Now that he had, he'll be starting next semester!"

"That's wonderful news," Gyomei finally spoke with a smile. "I suppose Senjuro's desire to establish a new club has taken off in ways that even we didn't expect."

Kyojuro hummed tilting his head. "You know that's the strangest part of it." Gyomei hummed back in question. "The Chairman didn't find out about my father's business through Senjuro despite him presenting the idea of a kendo club to him."

"Then your mother was very kind to convince the school of his talents."

"It wasn't her either. In fact she was as confused as he was when the Chairman wished to speak with him. It's incredibly hard to believe but somehow the Chairman was given one of Father's business cards." He made his hand into a semi rectangular shape as if demonstrating actually holding one. 

"Well you did make them to be passed out. One of them must've been passed to him through a parent."

You calmly say back in your chair and sipped your tea to avoid any unwanted attention. You had a feeling of what happened but you weren't entirely too sure.

"That's the strangest thing. Senjuro wasn't able to pass them out at school yet. We had lots made but a good chunk of them went missing not too long ago. Instead he had gotten the card at some social event from a lady called...." He hummed red eyes looking up as he tried to recall the name. "Daki. Dakota. Dakita? Something along those lines."

Gyomei slowly lowered his drink and tilted his head at Kyojuro as if something fell into place.

"Wow. It's like a super early Christmas miracle!," Mitsuri gushed, "*gasp* Maybe it was an angel! Sent to answer your prayers!"

"Yeah..I doubt that, Mitzi."

"Did you say 'Dakita'?," Gyomei's voice spoke slowly making you suddenly freeze right next to his larger form.

Kyojuro nodded. "Something like that I believe. I can't be for certain as it's second hand knowledge."

.....Gyomei suddenly turned to you making you freeze up even more under his raised. "Don't you have an Aunt Dakita?"

You swore it was like a domino effect of everyone turning their heads turning to you. Nervously you gulped under the intense feeling before smiling nervously to laugh it off. "I do. She's a really good matchmaker."

"Hm. That must mean she has a lot of networking to do. Did you not take a card from Rengoku during the party?"

You gave him a look. Was he TRYING to throw you under the bus or something?!

"Your aunt is responsible for the Chairman's call?"

Kyojuro's sudden intense look, eyebrows raised in surprise, had you pausing as a feeling of awkward silence come over the table. You felt like you were suddenly in an interrogation room being stared down at by seven pairs of eyes...Well six pairs of eyes and one pair of ears in Gyomei's case. Either way it was an awkward intimidating moment.

You shrugged. "I-I mean..I did give her a few cards Senjuro was passing out." Wasn't a lie. Senjuro was passing them out but specifically you gave her the ones he didn't get to get. Your f/c looked everywhere but the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "She does a lot of n-networking with clients and you guys seemed like you needed a hand so, I figured it wouldn't hurt to try and help a little bit..."

You trailed off fiddling with the tablecloth under her hands as the silence resumed. Nothing but the clinking and murmuring of the few other tables being occupied by other people in the restaurant with your group. For a moment no one said a single word until something you didn't expect broke the silence.

"AHAHAHAHAHA!!"

You jumped, looking up and blinking at Kyojuro who had thrown his head back and was.. laughing. Loud, happy, and not what you expected to hear. He kept laughing and laughing. His smile contagious to everyone else at the table as they also smiled at him. Eventually his smile was directed back to your confused face.

"Mitsuri should've dressed you up as an angel for the party instead of a queen!," his delightful voice spoke out.

You blinked. "...What?"

"Gyomei couldn't have picked a nicer woman to join us! Now I can see why everyone likes you so much!"

Gyomei gave him a look that seemed both a mix of surprise and confusion raising a brow at Kyojuro. However you could only blink again.

"Wait. You're not mad?"

"Absolutely not! Why would I be angry with someone who's been the one who put the ball into motion for my family to get better?"

"Well-" You made a motion with your hand. "-it wasn't really me. My aunt did the real work of getting the right connection."

"Hm. That's true! I'll have to thank her if I ever get the pleasure of meeting this wonderful lady!," he announced loudly. 

Oh gods no. The chaos from that would be so embarrassing to say the least. Just the thought of the two chaotic forces meeting had you filled with dread. 

"I'll pass along the message for you." Without thinking too much about it you just reached out to pat Kyojuro's hand making him blink in surprise while waving him off with your other hand. "I'm genuinely happy to know that I was able to help your family." He blinked as you smiled at him brightly and genuinely. "I'm very proud of your dad getting a good job! He deserves it definitely!"

For a moment Kyojuro didn't speak when you pulled your hand away and turned your attention to the drink you hadn't finished yet. Thankfully no one got a chance to say anything else about the situation because Tsutako came back out with some of your food. Kyojuro however slowly closed his hand where you had gripped it. A pleasant feeling running up his arm and tickling his face a pink as a large beaming smile at you.

"So, Tengen. Have you painted anything new lately?," you asked shifting the topic back onto someone else.

Said white haired man perked up at the question. "Well since you asked, I've been working on this absolutely beautiful landscape of the nearby mountains."

With the attention thankfully off you now, you could relax and eat the daikon in front of you to fill the emptiness in your stomach and hopefully you would be able to get through the rest of this month normally...

No such luck.

Not even a few days later and you were back on schedule again working at the daycare, attending classes, and the usual. So when you were checking out children one Tuesday afternoon, you were surprised when you saw a familiar face walk in again. No not Sanemi.

Kyojuro.

He walked right in smile beaming with happiness. You were both surprised and confused to see him there but have him a smile as the usual greeting you normally gave.

"Hi, Kyojuro. What a surprise! Are you here to get Koto for Sanemi again? I don't remember him telling me about it."

He shook his head long hair swaying. "NO! I actually swung by to see you!"

You blinked. "Me?"

"INDEED! I've regaled your genuine selflessness to my family and they'd like to personally invite you and your Aunt to dinner so they can personally express their gratitude!"

You stared. "..What?"

"Furthermore I'd love to have you come join us more often for outings since I don't quite think we're acquainted enough yet! In fact the girls are going out this Saturday! You should come along!"

"....What?"

[carmenized-onions]

Loosen Your Grip. | R & D

logline; even when it seems counter-intuitive.

[!!!] series history; so many parts, so many words.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. 8 hour mark officially! Lets go!

portion; 15k knowing the next chapters, this trend isn't going to change. they have started to line up with the chapter number, to my chagrin.

possible allergies; i think this one is relatively harmless? Stress though. Everyone's stressed. Idk what to tell you man, it's the bear. oh but more things were yoinked from Season 3!! Think that's just gonna be ongoing tbh. also if this is bad don't tell me. tell me it's really good, actually. i've never doubted a chapter more than I do this one.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader it's so fem. it's so she/her'd it's so girl'd i'm so sorry

kofi; if you’ve enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!

i'm so sorry for the delays beloveds, can you say 'most high stress but high reward month and a half of my life'? i can!!!

The Monday morning after New York— The first morning waking up in your own bed in a day or two— Comes rudely. Well, not immediately. First you have to roll over and grab aimlessly at your nightstand, searching for your phone to turn off your alarm. Through blurred vision you slide it to snooze, and as you debate going back to bed, your eyes glaze over some texts you’ve received in your sleep, from numbers you never bothered to put in your contacts. It takes a minute to absorb the information and register it as real, but once you do—

“...Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

—You’re definitely not gonna be heading back to bed anymore. You’re wide-eyed and wired— You can probably skip coffee this morning. Maybe every morning forever.

“Oh— I fucking hate this fucking city, I fucking hate Chicago— Fuck this!” 

In lieu of coming to terms with your world shattering news, perhaps this is an important moment to express gratitude, for the things that have gone well in the past few days. 

The rest of the weekend in New York was as lovely as a last-minute trip in a cramped car full of kitchen equipment and four neurotics can be.

Gratitude. Highlight reel?

There’s a bag M and Ms monogrammed with Syd’s, Richie’s, Carmy’s, and your faces in your pantry now. Eva shouldn’t be the only one allowed to have fun. Though snacking on all your cute little faces does make you feel like a slight monster.

Managed to get a good gift for Richie. Thank you Tiffanys. It was certainly an interesting moment when everyone tried to come up with lame excuses as to why they had to split up from the group to definitely totally not go get Christmas presents.

 Carmen’s knife guy wasn’t able to do engravings on such short notice, and you’re not the type to settle for less, especially not with Syd, so that’ll be a next year gift, it seems. You came up with a serviceable back-up while strolling through the MET— Which was a mostly fun field trip, it was very inspiring. You all could've done without Richie's pretentious prattling about postmodern absurdist dadaism. Mostly because you're pretty sure half of it was wrong; but still a good trip, all told.

Still lost on what to get Carmen… You’ve got a week, it’s fine. You’ve done more with less before. How do you subtly ask a guy, ‘hey, what the hell else do you like besides your job?’ You’ll figure it out. Figure it out like you figure out everything else, like you always do. Hopefully.

It's Monday. You've got a week. It's fine. Stop looking at your phone. This is such bad timing. This is awful fucking timing. You’ll figure it out. Stop looking at your phone, stop looking at the texts. Do the Connections, send it to Carmy, he already sent his, be normal… Just such bad timing—

At the very least if you can't bear to look away from the life ruining texts, just shut your phone off. You’ve got to stop ruminating or you’ll rot in bed forever. And you really have to get out on time, today. 

“God wants me to kill myself—” Gratitude. Express gratitude.

The drive back went ‘well’. Everyone had their licenses so the squad took shifts either driving or sitting on the uncomfortable console. Or, in your case specifically, sitting half on Carmen’s lap in shotgun on occasion despite the many complaints from Syd and Richie. You had a good excuse! Neither of you slept for the entire trip just to work on the cocktail and coffee menu. It was practically a sacrifice! It was just easier to sit up front together, okay!? You had to be close, you were scribbling ratios and drawings of glasses into a stolen notepad from the Holiday Inn with pencil crayons bought from FAO Schwarz—

Oh, hey, put that on the gratitude scoreboard, that was another thing that went well. Pretty cool to go to the oldest toy store in America. Might not have gotten the chef in your life anything yet, but the kids in your life are covered— You’re winning best Aunt for sure.

Oh, huge highlight— Didn’t say love you, like some idiot. Got away with that by the skin of your teeth, honestly. Hard to stare up at the Rockefeller Christmas Tree next to the guy and not blurt out something fucking stupid. Thank God for Syd, who stomped on your foot when you seemed a little too doe eyed.

With great pain and bemoaning, you finish expressing gratitude, which hasn’t helped much. You slam your phone screen down on your nightstand and roll out of bed. 

Today’s Monday. Today’s your first day at The Bear. Today that is the priority and there is nothing else to worry about.

You signed your contract last night. Talked to Syd for hours about it, planning next steps and goals and classes and budgets and a million other things. You’re both a little easily excitable, when it comes to lists and plans. Watching you sign yours gave her the ‘confidence’ to sign hers, if you can call it that. Not like you knew she needed the help, though.

“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life…” If you keep saying it while washing your face in the bathroom, it’ll become true, right? …Where’s Sara’s card again?

The Bear doesn’t run service on Mondays, so it’s a good day to do onboarding— Good day to do R and D. …What does one wear to R and D? Don’t need the serving uniform. Don’t need to dress up. Don’t need the jumpsuit… This is the first time you don’t need a uniform and that is bizarre.

You’ll wear your dad’s flannel, at least. Feels illegal to not wear the patch worked flannel. But besides that, you’re just a normal… restaurateur… part of the team…

Your hand hovers over where your necklace sits, in the small jewellery box on your vanity. “Mikey, if you want me to keep wearing it, make my ceiling cave in or some shit.”

You give it ten seconds and nothing falls. With a curt nod to no one, you pick up your book bag filled with loose tools and the menu filled notepad. Leave your bedroom, put your shoes on, grab your keys out of your clay dish tray on the way out.

It’s snowing.

That’s a lot of stuff falling, so to speak.

That’s basically a sign. That’s basically what you asked for.

You head back in, grab the necklace, hook it over your neck, and tuck it under your shirt. Baby steps. You head back out.

…And then soon after, head back in— Forgetting one of the most important things you need today. “The fucking glass, goddamn it!”

There’s a chance that today might be a little bit of an off day for you. No one’s gonna notice that, though.

“Mikey, why didn’t you tell me? You want me to look stupid on my start day, don't you? Fucker.”

You’re good. You’re you. You figure shit out. You’re compartmentalising perfectly and no one’s gonna be able to tell that you’re internally scrambling to figure out where you're gonna live once your lease gets terminated.

“ ‘Sup with you?” Okay, so Tina did immediately notice upon opening the back door for you. She tries to help you with the huge sheet of plexiglass you’re carrying, but you wave her off, stumbling further inside The Bear. Thankfully it’s a slow start to the morning, so the walk way is clear for your fumbled steps.

“I got it, T, just spot me—”

“Woahwoahwoah—” But alas, immediately Carmen is rushing over, making a big deal over nothing, “Fuck are you doin?” And grabs the thick sheet of glass from you. “Wait by your car next time, why do I gotta keep tellin’ you?”

“I am very capable—” You grunt, but you’re relieved when he takes the weight off you. You nod to the table in front of expo. “Put it on the island.”

“What’s it for?” Carmy asks but he follows direction without hesitation.

“Syd’s idea.” You walk with him, sidling up to Syd who’s already stationed up on the island with what looks like way too much paperwork for Chefs. You bump her shoulder as a greeting, she bumps you back. She lifts up the stack of papers and you pick up her deli container of Coke and ice, letting Carmen slide the glass onto the table.

“Unless it’s bad—” You correct, putting the cup down and digging through the tool bag on your shoulder for the right parts. “If you hate it, then it’s my idea.”

Syd snorts next to you, putting the papers back down on top of the glass. “Nice save.”

“What’s your idea, Chef?” Carmen taps his fingers against the glass, bemused.

You finally fish out two lock hinges from your bag, gesturing to them with a little flair like you’re Vanna White as Sydney explains. “For R and D. Thought since we’re like— Constantly changing shit and needing to review, it’d be like, useful to have a whiteboard— But those are huge and inconvenient for a restaurant— Duh— So—”

“Glass!” You come in with the assist as she rambles on. “On hinges— These one’s lock so you can have the glass sort of tilted up like an easel, or on the station— And then when you start service you can just flip it down off the counter for the night. Easy!”

“And—And—” Like a TV ad, Syd points out, “We can put paper under it and still be able to see— So it’ll make editing clearer— I-I think.”

Carmen always takes a nerve-wracking amount of time to think through other’s ideas, but once he nods, you both breathe easy. “Smart idea. Thank you, Chefs.”

You just smile, and this seems to bother Carm. Or at the very least, something is bothering him, as he frowns. “You got a second?”

Your brows furrow, for a moment, worried. You nod, putting your tools down. Glass can wait. “Always.”

Carmen comes around the counter, before he pulls you aside, Syd whispers over your shoulder, “Trouble in paradise.” Making you snort. When has it ever been paradise?

The two of you lean across from each other in the doorway of Carmen’s office, not quite in, not quite out. He looks worried, and his worrying is making you worry. He’s first to say something, concerned hand on your shoulder.

“Are you good?”

Fuck, he caught you too? “Hmm? Yeah, I’m good, do I not—”

You’re halfway through your response when he interrupts, he seems even more panicked by your words. His hand abandons your shoulder. “Right— Stupid, stupid fucking question— I just— Sorry—”

“Woah—” You grip both his shoulders, rubbing down his sleeves lightly. “Are you good, Carmy? You’re right, sweets. You caught me. I’m a lil’ off today. What gave me away?”

“Right, yes— You’re nice.” He’s saying it more to himself than you, like he needs to remind himself. Even so, it still hitches your heartbeat. “I— I’m good, I was just—You didn’t text me back this morning.”

“Oh.” You say it so breathlessly, with relief. It’s cute that that’s what’s got him freaking. “Sorry, yeah, I’ve been trying to not look at my phone, I just got some…” You shake your hand in the air for effect. “Bleh news. Put a wrench in some things for me, that’s all.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Ah—” You shake your head, waving it off, “Too much to get into. Later, though?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whenever you want.” He nods. “Ah, I wanna get into uhm—” Carmen snaps his fingers a few times, finding the words. “Get into drinks, today. I made all the concentrates and syrups ahead of time—But Uncles gonna come in first with The Computer to go over some numbers shit— Should be here in thirty?”

You nod, squinting. “Is it like… A special computer or something?”

“Computer is a guy.” Carmen says, while Syd yells the same in tandem with him, “Why wouldn’t he be!?” Walking past you both as she carries produce out of the walk-in.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” You grin, reiterating. Your smile soon sobers though, as you finally notice a giant silver blob of machinery behind Carmen. “Baby, what the fuck is that?” 

You’re already walking past him, quickly winding up all over again. It’s a gorgeous espresso machine— “It’s an Ascaso.” Explains Carmen. “It’s the best.” And it’s sitting exactly where your beautiful beat up mistake of a heavily-stained coffee machine used to be. 

“Baby, baby, baby—” you’re looking above and below the station for your rusted companion, hushed and panicked. “Don’t tell me you threw away the old one—” 

“You want the old one?”

Richie’s timing is perfect, as he walks in from front of house, and even from just hearing the last sentence, “Fuckin’ told you, Carm.” He knows the context. He keeps walking— On a mission, seemingly.

“I’m grateful— I- I am.” You kneel down and shove some mixing bowls aside to see if it was tucked in the back of some shelf— It’s not here. She’s not here. “New is good— New is nice— I’ll learn how to use the new one— I will— But— I— I need the old one— You didn’t throw it away, did you?” 

When he stays silent, you turn and look up to Carmen from where you’re crouched on the ground, pleading. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I— I—” The Chef is nearly sweating from this line of questioning alone. “It— It barely worked—”

“I know it didn’t! That’s the point!”

He blinks. You just seem to be saying all his trigger phrases, today, huh? “That’s the point?”

“I knew how she worked.” You push yourself back up onto your feet. “It’s got an espresso function that doesn’t work, if you tamp the basket the basket literally breaks off so you have to hold it and burn your hand a little— You have to hold the hot water button at the same time as the grind button for some reason or it won’t dispense— It’s literally a fucking nightmare— I covered it in like ten sticky notes of instructions at one point and they became pointless because no one but me was willing to use it. And— And I’ve got it memorized.”

“...And you want that?”

“No one’s gonna know how to take care of her, she’s my baby!” You gesture, albeit a bit too dramatically, speaking with your hands. “If you throw her away or donate her, no one’s gonna take the time to figure it out— They’re just gonna think she’s broken but she’s not, she works! She just needs the right hand!”

A dull silence falls between you, as Carmen purses his lips, squinting. There’s an ever slight chance your ‘I’m totally fine’ facade is cracking. “...Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your thing right—” 

“I’m good!” “...Okay.” “Did you get rid of her?”

“Relax, Handy!” Carmen does not say this. 

You grimace, looking behind Carmen to see Chi-Chi yelling from around the bend, in The Beef’s corner territory. Looking over him with the blue apron calling you your least favourite nickname by far— Well, second least favourite, only to— “She’s over here, Jack-Off. More our speed than rich boy’s ack - queso bullshit…” It’s nostalgic. Bad nostalgic but nostalgic. 

He slaps the top of the machine, you and Carmen both wince as a random spigot falls off it. Chi-Chi clicks his tongue, staring at it in silence. “...Refresher would be good, though.”

You’re already walking back to your damaged darling, patting Carmen on the shoulder as a form of goodbye, he pats your hand back. You don’t get to see him smile, as he watches you get to work. “Don’t fuckin’ call me Jack-Off and don’t touch her, I’ll show you, I’ll break your hand Cheech, I swear—”

The man in question shrugs, a devilish and terrible smirk on his stupid face. “Ey, love a woman in charge. Show me the ways.” 

Even on your most off days, working with The Beef will always be second nature for you. Even when the space is significantly more cramped than it used to be. 

You rewrite directions on how to use the coffee machine while showing them to Ebra and Chi-Chi. Ebra tends not to learn new tricks, so he stops listening by the time you get to syrups. That’s fine. No one ordered syrups in their coffee at The Beef back in the day all that often either.

Mikey really shouldn’t have invested in all those syrups back then. He really only did it for you and the staff. To be fair, when he did convince regulars to try your coffee they always changed their tune. The people don’t know what they like yet. They will like this. You were his proof that that idea was true.

“You gotta toss these, Boss. Slows you down.” You overhear Cheech saying behind you. You turn to see his arm on Ebra’s shoulder, holding the small blue baskets for sandwiches in his other hand. “Just the wrapping is fine. These people are gonna throw this shit out anyways, waste of plastic.”

Cheech turns his head to you, “Right, Handy?”

“...Don’t call me Handy.” Don’t freak out about throwing the old stuff away. Don’t freak out about throwing his old stuff away. You shrug, looking at Ebra over your shoulder. “Maybe just offer them, if they ask for one?”

“Y’know what the people are asking for, babe?” Cheech sucks his teeth, pulling Ebra closer, who looks nonplussed. “They’re asking where the nearest brick is to throw through our window. This rich people shit is getting on their nerves.”

You sigh, eyes flitting to Ebra for confirmation. “Yeah?”

He shrugs, nodding. “Ninety-eight percent, Jack-Off.” Cheech and the gang have been a terrible influence. How are you going to undo this?

“C’mon, E…” You scoff, but nod as you turn around, arms crossed. Gesturing with the frother as you do. “Well, I’ll make note of that. Now back to the fuckin’ hand frother, Cheech?”

“I know how to crank it, Handy—” “I swear to fucking God—”

“Ey!” Tina comes up to your corner, smacking the back of Chi-Chi’s head with a hand towel when she does. “Don’t talk to the baby like that, clean your mouth.”

He puts one hand on the back of his head, hissing, and another up in front of him, in defense. “Ey, T, it’s all love, aright? Playing!”

“Yeah well, you’re not gonna wanna play wit’ this one. ‘Specially not now—” She nudges you, smiling that coy ‘I’m about to blow up your spot’ smile.

You grimace, attempting to interrupt her. “T, don’t—” “That she’s Jeff’s.” “—Goddamnit.”

“Oh! Oh shit!” Cheech laughs, delightfully shocked. “You finally closed on Charmin’? Congrats—” It’s a blessing and a curse that Carmen, the guy you only ever saw in photos and heard in stories that you had a very minor and not vocal crush on, is now your… boyfriend? Undetermined.

You wave a hand in his face, “Shut the fuck up—”

“So where should I send flowers?”

You hate this family. “For the record, I have not closed shit.”

“What’s closing?” Tina takes a half step back, surveying your face, it doesn’t reveal anything. “What’s that? Gramps?” She turns her question on Ebra, who shrugs, equally as old and unknowing. 

“Well Jack-Off’s a little Mother Mary for my taste—”

You scoff, “So not true, for the record—” but Chi-Chi continues his tirade. “So I suspect she just means they haven't had the ‘are we datey-wating carmy baby?’ talk.”

You all but growl, crossing your arms as you wait for the second tutorial coffee to finish dispensing from the beloved whirring machine behind you. You can get the fuck out of here as soon as it’s done, and you’re praying that’s soon, because this interrogation is about to turn terrible. “We are currently unlabelled, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

Tina kisses her teeth, poking at your shoulder. “Richie told me you spent the whole wedding together and you come back with no label?”

You sigh, composure falling apart. You are not ready for a mother’s disappointment. “We talked out a lot of important stuff—” “Mija, that is important stuff!”

“I just— We’ll talk eventually—” 

Chi-Chi conveniently interrupts you when it looks like Tina’s about to go off into a full rant on the downfall of romance in modern relationships. “So you’re still on the market, Handy?”

“For you?” You smile, then drop it. Pushing your hand against his forehead. “Never. Now froth the fucking milk.”

He mumbles an endless series of expletives, but gets to work. You give him a quick tutorial on the hand frother— You fought hard for the old machine, but you are overjoyed to see an automated steamer and frother on that Ascaso. That part is gonna be a dream. You can make so many new drinks for Carm— The menu. 

When you finish, you take the latte from Cheech to hand to Tina; and when you do, you catch her looking… off. She’s staring at the piled up diner baskets, next to the unused napkin dispensers. 

You put your hand on her shoulder, massaging it lightly. “You good, T?”

Your hand shocks her back into reality, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, baby.” It takes her a second to remember where she is. She takes the latte, nodding. “I’m good. You good?”

“I’ve got my complaints.” You shrug. “But nothing I won’t survive.” Probably.

Tina takes a sip of her coffee, continuing to nod. She wants to dig deeper into your thing, you want to dig deeper into hers, but the painful groaning from the front of the kitchen, “And when did I fuckin’ greenlight this?” interrupts both your trains of thought. Uncle Jimmy tends to have that effect.

With a knowing nod, you walk together to the front, leaving Ebra and Cheech to continue experimenting with the coffee machine before they open their side of the restaurant. 

You watch from the sidelines as Carmen defends his choices, “The old one was shit, she was burning her hands on it. She’ll need the three groups to keep up.” and you’re able to quickly glean they’re talking about the new espresso machine.

“Okay, I hear that,” Jimmy nods, “but why the fuck did it need to be ten grand?”

“Ten?!” You can’t help but shout, you slap your hand over your mouth. Budget is none of your business. But fucking ten? You part your fingers to mumble through your hand,  “Sorry, continue.”

Carmen cares too much about your drink menu. Berzattos tend to invest too much into your special interests. Though this time, instead of syrups, and in addition to a 10k coffee machine, you see on the stainless steel table your shared sketches laid out alongside all the ingredients needed– Including the concentrates, whips, and other compounds Carmen made ahead of time for you. He’s so sweet. God, you love him. God, that’s disgusting. They have all, of course, been haphazardly shoved aside though, to make room for The Computer’s— Computer. Carmy’s nonplussed by that fact, it seems.

Jimmy gestures to you, deadpanning to Carm. “See, Chip understands the power of the dollar.”

“I’m not involved.” You add, waving your hand, it’s a terrible moment for your favouritism to shine through. Though you do enter the radius of this trainwreck of a quarterly review, kneeling down by the kitchen island to finish what you started with the plexiglass and hinges. “Ignore me, continue.”

The men stand on either side of you, as you bolt down the hinges. Carmen brushes off the dollar comment with a simple, “It’s the best.”

Why do you need the best? You think; Jimmy concurs with your brain, speaking for both of you. “Why do you need the best?”

The question seems to make no sense to Carmen. He freezes, blue-screening. “Cause—”

You duck your head under the counter at just the right moment— Or just the wrong moment? Because you don’t get to see Carmen looking down at you, then back up at his uncle. “Because.” 

You don’t see Uncle Jimmy practically roll not just his eyes but his entire body back into himself, witnessing the puppy love that is going to ruin his credit score. “Chip…”

When you slide yourself out from under the counter, Carmen puts his hand on the edge of the counter to make sure you don’t hit your head— Because you have an awful tendency to do so. You’re too focused on the way Uncle Jimmy says your name like you’re in trouble to notice though. “What’d I do?” 

“You’re you.” Jimmy grimaces, shaking his head. It’s not your fault. Not completely. “F-Y-I– Your boss just cut your bar budget by ten grand.”

“Hm.” You squint, lips in a line. “And what do I do if the budget I was planning was just ten grand?”

“Well respect yourself more than that.” Cicero scoffs, arms crossed. “Take twenty, now you’re back to ten. You’re welcome.”

“Generosity knows no bounds.” You shake your head, laughing him off as you duck your head back under the counter. “Thank you, Unc.”

“Sorry, who exactly are we giving twenty thousand?” 

“Oh fuck—” Despite Carmen’s best efforts, you still manage to bump your head on the roof of the counter, alarmed by the new voice— The Computer, you assume. “Fuckin—Ow— Sorry! Y’know what, hol’ on, let me just finish up here—”

“It’s the drink budget. Tony’s the new mixologist.” Natalie answers for you. “And sommelier.”

“Ah,” hums The Computer. “She’s the one we’re paying Quarter-Master for?”

“Nah, that’s me.” Gary strolls by, calling out to wherever his manager has gone, “Richie, you find that book yet?!”

“I’m taking them too!” You finally pop your head out from underneath the counter, finished bolting in the hinges. “Apparently I need actual W-S-E-T certification and a bunch of memorized google searches, youtube videos, and wine review blogs do not legally make you a sommelier.”

“I think it’s impressive you made it this far on basically nothing.” Syd taps the top of your head, she’s the one who made the call on schooling. She looks to her co-owner. “Classes are coming out of the advanced.”

“So is this.” You tap the plexiglass, nodding up to Carmen as well. “You’re workin’ with like… A thousand left for pre-paid work?”

“Hm.” Carmen nods, looking at The Computer, and you turn your head to him too. “Did you account for that?”

“Did I account for a thousand dollars?”

Carmen shakes his head like a white flag immediately, hearing the sarcastic tone, “Alright, you don’t—”

“A thousand dollars does not take you out of the hole, man.” He’s right, but you don’t love the tone. He tilts his head, reading something off his screen. “Payroll is a little high, for a somme.”

“I don’t disagree—” You try to say, because yeah, your contract does have a weirdly high salary.

But Jimmy, Nat, and Carm all speak over you. “It’s not.”

“That’s not pay for a somme, that’s a pay for Chip, you don’t need to enhance on that.” Jimmy deads the topic then and there. “You’ll see. Just trust me. You were sayin’ somethin about tiny plants?”

“Microgreens.” Says Syd. 

“Yes. Do less of that.”

And you just watch, from the sidelines, as this crew flows into a bit of a repetitive we’re doing this, which gains the response, well stop. Do less, charge more, figure it out, duh, don’t duh– What’s that you’re hearing about a daily changing menu? Carmen seems to be the only one campaigning for it. At a point he just starts pacing, pointing at numbers on The Computer’s screen that he doesn’t understand but pretends he does.

You’ve got a million ideas, but it’s none of your business. It very literally isn’t your business, until Jimmy turns his head just so, grimacing at the non stop debate, to see you standing aside, arms crossed.

He sighs, beckoning you to the table, like it’s a witness stand. “What’s that fuckin’ face on your face, kid?” Oh, for the love of God, why are you so easy to read?

You pfft, shrugging. “I’m not makin’ a face—!” But you come forward nonetheless as he boldly speaks over you. 

“You’re makin’ a face,” — “This is just what I look like,” — “Y’know how I know you’re makin’ a face?” — “Enlighten me.” — “Cause it’s the same fuckin’ face—”

He takes this moment to point at the face on your face. “That your dad makes.” A man that gambles as well as Cicero is a man that knows your dad’s tells. And a man that knows your dad’s tells is a man that knows your tells. 

You bite down on your inner cheek, poorly pretending to be confused, shrugging again, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come off it.” “I’m not on anything, Unc—” “You’ve got a problem, say it.” 

“I don’t have a problem!” You have a lot of problems, but they can’t know that. That makes you judgy and pushy— You don’t know enough about the business to have an opinion. “I’m just observing, that’s all.”

Uncle looks up, to Heaven, to Mikey, and sighs the world’s heaviest sigh. It sounds painful. When he finally tilts his head back down to you, it’s to say, “C-K.”

“Cicero.”

“Y’know why I’m able to pour mas queso into this fuckin’ kid?” He loosely gestures in the direction of Carmen, who in response seems to bite down a lot of venom. It’s bad to think he’s pretty when he’s annoyed, isn’t it?

You tilt your head, “Honestly, I always assumed some sort of mob association.”

Jimmy holds back his laughter, it comes out as a disgruntled cough. He shrugs. “It’s because when I saw your dad at the table, makin’” —He gestures to you— “That fuckin’ face, I knew to pull back.”

“You don’t need to pull back.” Your reply is a touch too panicked and instant for anyone’s liking, makes it a little less believable. But Cicero smirks, and you know that face as well as he knows yours. Check. He’s got you. 

“Then speak on it.” And he pushes you forward, just slightly, like a slap of support on your back. You grimace, looking to Carm and Syd for permission to have opinions, and they both nod, like it’s obvious. With great hesitation, lips pressed together, you finally allow yourself to come off as judgy, opinionated, a fixer. 

“I think the chargers are kinda stupid.”

A plate no one eats off of, that they still have to clean, that’s on top of another plate? Definitely super necessary. Definitely not some rich people NOMA bullshit.

You look to Syd, apologetic. She shrugs, open mouthed, head tilted, “I– I mean, I didn’t invent them.” 

“It’s presentation.” Carmen nods, to himself. He doesn’t like to budge. “That first look at the table affects everything.”

“Yes.” You nod, directly across the counter from him. “I agree, I just think the plates are stupid.” 

“You got somethin’ better?”

“Think so.” You hum, tilting your body back to yell to the back of the restaurant. “Ay, Cheech! Pass me a fuckin’ basket!” 

It’s without hesitation that you hear, “Hut!” before even seeing the man. You see the blue basket being hurled towards you before you see the man. You catch it, albeit a bit clumsy, but you catch it. 

You toss the basket on the table. Everyone stares. You defend yourself before anyone even criticizes it, “Easier to clean than plates, because you just need to rinse the plastic. Ties together a colour scheme, costs nothing, they’re gonna be tossed anyways.”

“It looks cheap.” Carmen tuts, but he really does seem to be trying to hear out the idea, despite his reservations. 

“It looks purposeful.” You double down, leaning on the counter just so, “It carries a story, that we didn’t forget where we started.”

“Ooh.” Marcus, clocking in just in time, hums behind you. “Kind of a bar, Chef.”

“Thank you, Chef. Morning, Chef.” You fist bump him over your shoulder, not looking. Too focused on convincing the man before you, you let him think in silence for some time before asking. “Think on it?”

“No.” Carmen shakes his head, and you’re a little crestfallen, for a second. “It’s good. Let’s do the baskets, yeah—” He then remembers to ask for permission, he turns his head to Syd, “Yeah?”

“Yeah? Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah. Baskets are good.” Syd nods to Nat. “Can you look into, uh—”

“Returning the expensive as fuck earthenware shit? Happily.” Nat is far too cheery upon receiving a paperwork rabbit hole of a mission. She brushes past you, excitedly whispering, “Please keep going.”

“Oh, uh—” Are you some sort of thought leader now? “Well, uhm, I think I heard you sayin’” —You snap your fingers at The Computer, “That R and D cost is a little high?”

“A lot high.” He corrects.

“Kid with crayons.” Jimmy tuts, “Need to pull back a little.”

Carmen’s screwing and unscrewing the cap of a mason jar— Marmalade, it’s for Syd’s drink. He made it this morning, it’s labelled down to the minute.  Just let him work on his fucking drinks menu, please God. He’s been dying for this moment and it’s being thrown off by this bullshit. 

He can’t keep biting his tongue, “Hey, uh, why don’t you just tell us to do everything a little bit less so we can skip this and get back to work, huh?”

You hear Uncle Jimmy inhale as preparation to verbally beat Carmen’s ass. You put one hand up in front of the old man’s face, the other hand grabs a dry-erase marker. “He didn’t mean it like that and he apologizes, Unc.”

“Does he now?”

“He does.” You drop your hand, focusing on lifting the glass panel, clicking the locks in place to keep it up. You nod to Carmen through the pane. “Right, Carmy?”

Poor Carmen nearly deflates, “...I’m tryna be the guy.” 

“Not what the guy does, baby boy.” You hum, uncapping the marker with your teeth. You turn your head to Cicero. “Guy had a lapse, he forgot you were his boss and just thought of you as family, so he spoke to you like family, cause he loves you, Unc.”

Cicero nods, tilting his head just so at Carmen. “S’that right?”

Carm manages to shake his head and nod all at the same time, “S’a facet.” 

“....Well, just don’t do it again.” A crisis is averted and an uncle is softened. 

“I love to see a family come together.” You hum, nonchalant, writing on the glass, ‘R & D - Cost: Bad’

“Bring it from bad to good.” The Computer notes very helpfully. “You can cut—”

“Hol’ on.” You put your index finger up, effectively shushing him, “Just think about it first. We don’t have to go straight to cutting. Let’s look at our options.”

“Your options are fucked.”

“Just—” You tut, rubbing the bridge of your nose, man, you really are becoming your dad right now. Loosen your grip, Jack. “Widen the scope. We cut costs through returning those chargers— How else can we ‘return’ shit? Carmy?”

Thank God you’re the guy, because Carm can’t hack it. “Heard? Yes?” And frankly, he doesn’t want to.

“What’s the main cost on R and D?”

“Supplies. Food— Y’know, lot of trial and error.” He nods to a bus tub filled with failed attempts over this morning’s session. But you like that, right? “Trying new things, y’know?”

“...Carmen.” He doesn’t answer, because he can hear he’s in trouble. He is staring at you stare at the tub in what seems like a sort of contemplative, serene, searing anger. “Sweetheart, are those four wagyu filets in a fuckin’ bus tub?”

“Yes, it’s got a blood orange reduction, but– But Syd suggested mint—” 

You don’t let him finish, “Is it poison?”

“It’s not.” “It’s edible?” “It is.” “Okay, so then, babydoll, why is it not being eaten?”

Syd winces from the sidelines, hissing under her breath, fist over her mouth. Carmen cannot help but notice. You’re perhaps… a dash upset.

“We can’t eat everything.” “Did you offer it to the crew?” “Yeah—” “You offered it to Nat, Unc, Cheech— All the servers? Or did you just offer it to the cooks?” “...Heard.” “Did you take a bite of all of these?” “Not all.”

You start writing on the glass again, explaining as you do, “Okay. So then uneaten food from R and D should be sold on one of those fuckin’ food waste apps— Too Good to Go, or somethin’. We advertise it to The Beef regulars, try to get the other side of our city to understand the finer things, prevent any brick through window incidents, how we feel ‘bout that?”

You remember small things far too well. You did make note of the rich people shit getting on The Beef customers' nerves. You make note of the people who live on your block, who cannot afford to eat here. You make note of the fact that Carmen resents subtracting with a passion now, so you find another way. He can still try new things, just needs to handle the results better. 

“...You keep a binder or somethin?” Is all Carmen can think to ask. 

“Steel trap memory.” You tap the cap of the marker to your head, “Good though?”

He nods, “Good.”

“Good.” You take a breath, dragging a hand down your face, practically coming out of a fugue state. Carmen knows your need to have something to do, just as much as him, so he slides the jar of fig marmalade to you from across the table. You take it happily, unscrewing the lid. You’ve also been dying to get to this menu.

But Richie comes up from behind, scratch and sniff wine book in hand— Didn’t Mikey get you that? It  was meant to be a gag gift but it’s actually quite useful. “Chip, can you also tell Chef Carmen the daily menu fuckin’ sucks?”

“Re-lax.” You sigh, pulling over all the ingredients and tools you need for Syd’s drink. “Syd told me ‘bout this though, daily pre fixe, or whatever it’s called?”

“It’s—” Carmen crosses his arms over himself, immediately defensive but trying his best not to be. “It’s an idea I’m floating, for now— It’s what the best restaurants do, and— And even if we don’t have full intent on getting a star, right now, it’s still important.”

“I just think…” You hum, trying to figure out the most delicate way to say it. “It doesn’t exactly give you the most room to collaborate or create—”

“The whole point of it is to collaborate and create—”

“Oh yes,” —As if waiting in the wings for this, Richie pops out behind you again, “What wasssit? ‘Vibrant Collaboration’ and ‘Constantly Evolve Through Eating My Own Head like a fucking ouroboros’.”

“Relax.” You hiss this time, putting a hand up in front of Richie. You can speak for yourself. “You don’t have time to be creative or collaborate when you’ve gotta make decisions in less than twelve hours.”

Carmen tries to defend, he gestures to the one good plate of wagyu with mint that came out of this morning, “But the—”

You nod and hum, knowingly. The sweet sound stops him. You already know the answer, but you ask anyway, as you scoop fig marmalade into your cocktail shaker. “Did you get to try the pop rocks thing yet?”

“Well, no, it’s not viable to perfect that in such—”

“A short amount of time, angel?”

“Oooh…” Richie mimics Syd’s movements, air whistling between his teeth as he takes a sharp breath. He gestures, standing behind you, staring at Carmen as he slides his thumb across his neck. He mouths, ‘Mad mad.’

Carmen’s two closest friends are freaking him the fuck out and one of them wasn’t even doing it on purpose. How do they know that? How can they tell that? Are you gonna break up with him? Are you even dating? This work together thing was a terrible idea—

“You don’t have time to be thoughtful about things, if you do an entire menu every day, you’re gonna have to cut corners on what you’re willing to experiment with.” You reword, more productive, better for his brain. “Plus, prix fixe is a fuckin— In—In my opinion, is sort of a lacking idea, maybe, for a new restaurant.”

Carmen’s willing to give up the daily rotation, he’s not so willing to give up the pre fixe. “It’s what the best restaurants do.” Carmen loves the word best, huh?

“Have those restaurants—” You bite your tongue from what was going to be an immediate catty response.

You try again, measuring out orange liqueur and lemon juice as you do so. “You’re thinking like a Chef and you need to think like a customer— A- A guest, for a second.”

Carmen gives you the floor, mostly because he cannot compute the command. You continue, “Let’s do a little roleplay, alright? Let’s say we’re just average people, not workin’ at The Bear, and we’re goin’ on a date.”

“When?” “...When?” “When is the date?” “No, I’m— It’s— This is hypothetical.” “Yeah but in the hypothetical.”

You shrug, clicking tongs together as you grab large chunks of ice for your shaker. “I dunno, Friday nights? We have like a Friday night date night.”

“Oh, so you’re doing good.” Richie hums, proud of this hypothetical you, “Weekly date night is a cornerstone.” 

“Moving on.” You elbow Rich behind you, shaker sloshing in hand, “I’m not a foodie, you are— In this hypothetical. You’re looking around at restaurants in the area for the date, you find The Bear— You find through their website with an improper hyperlink that the menu is,” —You list off on your free hand— “prix fixe, unavailable online, and changes daily so you can’t go off of reviews either. Also, it’s a new place, so you can’t really ask around for opinions.” 

“Right.” Carmen nods, as does Syd. Uncle Jimmy’s got that stupid smirk he gets when he sees his kids fall in line. You pour the ouzo over the ice, focus on the drink, not Carm’s mopey expression. 

“So, we probably wouldn’t go, right?”

Carmen keeps nodding, eyes downcast— Not upset, just can’t take feedback without keeping his head down. “Prob’ly not, yeah.” 

You pound the shaker shut, shaking it lightly in one hand as you try as hard as you can to sweetly explain. “People are open to like, two surprises on an outing. New place, new food— But they will need a set menu and they will need to have it available beforehand— And they’ll need to be able to choose.”

He looks like a cat in the rain, so you add, “But. Maybe we can do a daily special? Or weekly, depending on burnout, but like, y’know, a semi-frequent one new thing. And maybe on like, Valentines or some holidays we do a fresh prix fixe. That’s how some of the best places do it.”

Carmen’s eyes upturn, smiling with them, at that last part. “You do keep a binder.”

“Syd does. I just pay attention.” You shake your head. “She mumbled about it all night when we got back.” 

Adamu is immediately aghast, she should’ve realized ages ago, you were practically quoting her. “You said you couldn’t hear me!”

“No, I said you weren’t bothering me, and you weren’t.” You can’t hide your smile as you break the seal on the shaker. Syd sucks at sharing her ideas, but you’re happy to act as a good mouth for her good brain. “Hand me a lowball.” 

With a grumble, Syd walks off in search of  the lowball; while everyone does seem to agree this is best practice, Carmen does still seem a little sore about it.

“It’d probably also serve us well to do a seasonally rotating menu, right?” And so you throw him a bone. “Like Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall? Base it on what’s in season with local vendors?”

“What grows together goes together.” Tina says, nearly sing-songy. “Farmer’s market is rough though, Jeff.” 

“Fuck a farmer’s market— With love, fuck a farmer’s market.” Back to writing on plexiglass you go. “We gotta do vendors, maybe f’ like, eggs and dairy we can do farmer’s market, but it’s just not feasible. Maybe for holiday pre fixe or daily specials? But full stock, it’s just not— It’s not it. And I say that while having farm fresh eggs and local honey in my pantry, alright?”

Carmen agrees, like a bobble-head this guy. He nods to Tina. “That cool with you, T?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool with me.” Tina is a millisecond off to pipe in, which is really not noticeable– To anyone but you, that is.

“Why’s— Why would T not be good with that?”

“She’s in charge of farmer’s market.” 

“Hm.” You bite the end of the dry-erase marker. “T, would you be cool with rotating that, now and again?”

“Ooh?” She tilts her head, shrugging, “Yeah, yeah, kid. If you wanna take the reins.”

“Not me.” You return to scribbling on the glass board. You point at Carmen and Syd through the glass. “Them.” 

“I’ve paid my sous chef dues.” Says Syd, returning to the table with your glass. You tut, shaking your head. You refocus your vision from your writing to beyond the plexiglass, at them. 

“You need it for inspiration! You fuckers keep forgetting you like cooking, I need you to visit the farmer’s market once in a while to remind you.” You take the lowball glass and tong a few ice cubes in. “Non-negotiable. Heard?”

A soft, simultaneous, “Heard, Chef.” from your cats. 

“Good.” You strain the mixed concoction out of the shaker, into the lowball glass. It’s a very pretty peachy pink. You tweezer a slice of dried fig and place it on top. You grab a toothpick, stick it down the glass, pull it out, and taste the toothpick. Balanced, solid flavour, should be good.

You slide the drink over to Syd. “I can’t drink everything obviously, so first dibs goes to whoever the drink is based on— I don’t care who drinks it, just let me know if it goes down smooth.”

You also in turn hand Syd the recipe card and sketch, and you’re quick to move on as she reviews and sips away.

Ouzo. Dry anise tasting spirit. It’s got a licorice aftertaste, but oddly sweeter for it. It’s strong. Resilient. It’s made from remnants of unfermented wine grapes and a mix of other distilled and unused spirits. Better than the sum of its parts. It goes well with figs. Muddle it together with fig marmalade— Sweet yet earthy, spring-like. Orange liqueur to marry the flavours, lemon juice to brighten. Shaken, pour over ice into a lowball, serve with a dried fig on top.

Syd manages to reserve her reaction to a slow but repetitive nod, like entering deep space. She only comes back to reality when Richie reaches for the drink, wanting to try. She’s quick to pull it away from him, coveting the glass. 

“Ah… what else? Rapid fire.” You knock your head around, remembering what The Computer talked about, and in quick succession, you line up every problem and talk through them, possibly solve them— As best as a newbie can. At the very least, you open the floor to actual discussions as you make drinks all the while. 

“Opening a full sixth day I think will shoot us in the long run, especially if we ever get a kitchen plague going. Maybe we just open for half the day on Mondays going forward, try out breakfast? Stop booing me, I’m right.”

Richie’s. Also served over ice in a lowball. It’s similar to a whiskey smash. Nixing the mint. Whiskey bourbon— A good one, but not too good that it’s a sin to mix. Something with a cinnamon spice, that's warm all the way down, but never burns. Water it down a bit by stirring peach juice over the whiskey with ice for a brief moment. Float blueberry syrup on top. Add a toothpick, spearing two blueberries and one peach halve, balance it over the glass, for stirring. So the drinker can mix the blueberry syrup in and have a cute colour changing experience. 

“Wine pours, me and Gary got that. We can also just start charging by the bottle by default— Whatever works.” 

Marcus’. Simple but effective. A rum and coke ice cream float. Made complex by the fact that the ice cream is on a rotating schedule, based on whatever Chef Brooks is feeling that night and what’s in stock. Right now? Pistachio. So tonight it’s actually rum and seltzer, and it will probably continue to be rum and seltzer, based on the way Marcus’ eyes light up by the opportunity to get weird. More often than not, you’re going to need that neutral base. Served in a milkshake glass, because what else?

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t just grow these microgreens myself in house. They’re just plants you murder early, are they not? Am I missing something?”

Tina’s. Varied take on a spiked agua fresca. Fresh blended mango agua fresca— With ginger, of course. A healthy kick is a necessity for a mom drink. Sweetened with simple syrup, spiked with white rum, dash of agave bitters, top with coconut water. Served in a tall glass, because why would you skimp on portions?

“Why are we shipping flowers from New York? No, fuck that, go to Violet’s Violets— I fixed her cooler once, she falls in love and gives a discount to literally anyone who’s nice to her. Just send Marcus with some dessert and you’ll be set for life.”

And of course, Carmen’s aperol spritz. You go with the cherry syrup rim for now because it’s important to try. You’re almost certain it’s too much though.

“Napkins…” You rub your icy cold hands— From shaking up so many goddamn drinks— Over your eyes. “Why are we renting?”

“Buying is insanely overpriced.” Answers Computer. 

You nod, shrug, but nod, fingers tapping the glass, “Well, it’s like renting over owning right? It might be better to own because, y’know, you might suddenly get told by your napkin vendor, like, like years down the line, after basically paying for these napkins in full through rent, ‘hey, actually, we’re gonna jack up prices or just take those napkins back’ even though you’ve —again— Literally had them for years—”

“Chippy, are you good?” Richie tries to massage your shoulder, tries to break you out of the doom spiral, but admittedly, it was never his forte. Still isn’t. 

“We—!” Your voice hangs and is grating in a way it usually isn’t, ignoring the question. “We can produce our own napkins if we buy linens by the yard and hem ‘em ourselves. We—” You snap your fingers a couple times at Carmen, praying he backs you up. “We can even get The Bear monogrammed on them.”

“That sounds nice…” It’s Carmen’s turn to ease you off the ledge of insanity, gently. “It also sounds expensive, were you gonna do that?”

“Fuck no.” You’re quick to shake your head. “I fucking suck at sewing, my own jumpsuit is covered in my blood— No, my—” Oh. “Hold on.”

Your hand immediately goes for your back pocket, quickly pulling your cell-phone out, and dial one of your first starred contacts. Richie, over your shoulder still, sipping his blueberry and bourbon cocktail, excitedly mumbles. “Oh, put it on speaker.”

You’re annoyed before he’s even answered, knowing the headache you’re about to get. “Trust me, the first thirty seconds minimum will not need—”

“Hey!” It’s impossible to convey how earth shatteringly loud and drawn out his voice is, immediately upon answering. There may be eight seconds of the sustained vowel? Maybe more. Almost everyone flinches, par for Syd, Carm, and Rich. Though for all different reasons. 

A touch grating, in the same way your voice just was. Like father, like occasional daughter, you suppose. “Hey kiddo baby darling sweetheart angel princess—” Oh, he’s mad. The whole ‘slew of nicknames when you’re pissed off’ thing? Yeah, that didn’t start with you. “Did someone die? Because that’s the only reason my darling baby only daughter calls anymore!”

You sigh, immediately exhausted, putting your weight on one leg. “Y’know, once a month is honestly a lot of times a year for a fully grown woman to call their dad, on average. I absolutely call you more than my friends call their dads.”

Richie almost chokes and whispers over your shoulder, hesitant, internally preparing for a dreadful future. “Please tell me that’s not true.”

“Oh, and you should be so lucky that you have a dad to call! Cause I bet those friends are calling funeral homes, aren’t they?!”

“Dad—”

“I should have never taught you independence. Worst mistake of my life to teach you how to be your own person. Richard, never teach your kid how to use a screwdriver, it will be the last day you are a father.”

“Noted, Big C-K.” Richie goes for your dry erase to actually write it down, you pull it away from him. That’s gonna require a long talk down later. 

Carmen mouths to you, across the table, he meant to ask earlier when Cicero said it but there wasn’t time. ‘C-K?’

You mouth back, gesturing to the logo on your very own flannel ‘Chicago’s Kindest.’ He’s not the best with acronyms. 

“Oh— And thank you for bringing that up! And what’s this I hear about you cutting your hours with C-K? I hear this from Tony of all people ‘fore I hear it from you?”

“I got a long-term bartender gig that’s actually gonna keep my bills paid, alright? And I like it. Putting that mixology double trade major to good use. Cicero’s got stock in the place, actually.”

“How you doin’ C-K?” Cicero pipes in next to you, waiting for his moment.

“Ah… I’ve got my complaints. For one, my Jack keeps you more company than me!”

There’s a series of hums and haws, that weird uncle secret language of heavy exhales that manage to say more than any actual words they could say. 

You let the heaving run its course for ten seconds before cutting it short with, “Anyways, I’m still gonna keep the business running, just only in the mornings. It’s not like I brought in that much business anyway, I’m not pulling a foundation.”

“Everytime a small business dies, a rich man laughs, Jack!” 

“It’s not dying! It’s alive! It’s present and alive!” Don’t get flashbacks. “Anyways, speaking of small businesses, I need a favour—”

“Ooh, the truth comes out, princess calls cause she needs bail—” 

“For the love of God, let me get through a sentence, Pops!” You grumble, continuing. “Remember that overpriced monogram machine you bought for no reason?”

“It was not for no reason, it was invaluable because it saved my mitts from hand embroidering all those logos— And and— you have to remember—” You mouth the words along with him, mimicking him, because you know exactly what he’s going to say, “that it all starts in your community— And now you have like eight beautiful outfits, cause of me… And also it’s fun.”

“Well… If it’s fun, would you consider making some linen napkins?”

And it flows like ping pong, because your dad is a repairman— Well, former, but still. He’s simple. He handles negotiations simple. So do you.

“For who?” “Restaurant. The Bear.” “Why?” “Cause they need linen napkins.” “How many?”

You look over your shoulder to Richie, he does the math in his head pretty quickly, “Bout seventy to a hundred covers a night.”

“Six hundred.” “Pay?” “We’ll pay supplies, and I’ll give you like—” You look to Syd, expectantly. She has no answer, so you put your advanced on the line. “A thousand?”

“A thousand!? Less than a dollar a napkin! Is this pre-housing crisis?!” “I work here, okay?! Discount me!” “My God, princess, are you in love with the owner or something?”

That world feels like it's choking, but that's probably just you. You blow hot air out of your mouth, looking anywhere but Carmen. Refusing to see him even in your periphery. Refusing to see his blue screened but ever so slightly expectant expression. Well? Are you? …Or something?

After a long moment, you find a way to avoid the question. “Ah–Uh, Syd co-owns the place.”

“Oh, Adamu?!” 

Syd pipes in, leaning over the table. You hold the phone out for her. “H–Hey, Mr. CK.” She waves, despite the fact that it’s a phone call.

“Hey kiddo. Aw, what a sweetheart. Lead with her next time!”

“Alright!” You bring the phone back to your face— It’s remained off speakerphone this entire time, but he continues to yell loud enough for the table. “I didn’t realize you were best friends.”

“Of course we are. Y’know she brought me this uh– this salmon mushroom risotto the other night? Unbelievable.”

You squint at Adamu curiously, whispering. “You bring my dad food?”

She whispers in return, defensive. “He lives on my block, don’t be weird.”

“For her, I’ll do it for eight-hundred, okay kiddo? I know how tough it is to start up a business, can’t imagine trying to move on top of that.”

Your turn to blue screen. Moving? You’re immediately over the love thing. “...Pardon?”

“...I’ll do it for eight—”

“No– Yes, sorry, yes dad that’s great—” You arch the phone away from your face, focusing your attention on Syd. “Syd, you’re moving out?”

She sighs, “Trying to.”

“Pops.” You straighten up, not looking away from her. “I’ll call you back to sort details later, okay?”

“Sure. You also need to let me know holiday plans, are we going up to Oak Park or—”

Somewhat disrespectfully, you speak hurriedly, “Yeah, we’ll figure it out, love you, bye!” and hang up. Still locked on Syd, you ask. “When you tryna move?”

“Like, soon as possible.” She stretches out her shoulders. “My own dad is sort of… Encroaching on my space.” 

“Right.” Your eyes flicker with too many ideas, and you’re trying to temper expectations. “You wanna live by yourself?”

“I mean, I don’t really know anyone on the same timeline as me, with the same ‘low budget’ as me.”

The Computer attempts to interrupt the interruption of his review, holding a finger up, “And why are we talking about—”

But you hold the palm of your hand up, continuing on, “I need to move out asap and have a ‘low budget’.”

That’s Carmen’s queue to chime in, he loves your place. “What happened?” 

Also Richie’s, “What? Chip, your spot’s like a historical site, ya can’t move.” and this is generally agreed upon by a sea of dismayed voices.

“To make an extremely long story short, I don’t have a choice.” You wave your hand in the air, silencing murmurs. “My sweet old lady landlord— The only landlord I’ve ever respected, got bought out by a fuckin’ big business gentrification ass company— I’m not in a rent controlled zone so they’re gonna keep jacking the rent until I move out so they can tear it down and build a new spot— They also may or may not have found out that me and Loretta— My landlord— Haven’t exactly been keeping up to date on my lease.”

“Meaning?” Carmen knows the answer will be bad. 

But it’s somehow worse. “Meaning I pay my rent on time in cash and she texts me once a year saying ‘do you want to keep living here?’ and I say ‘yes’, and we continue on.”

“Well, hold up—” Richie holds a hand up, like he’s a genius. “Squatter’s rights?”

“I thought about going that avenue, but—” You gesture to Syd. “If you’re already moving, and looking for a roommate?”

She looks up and around, thinking about it. You decide to join her in the brainstorm, scooching yourself just an inch to the right, writing on free space on the plexiglass screen, ‘pros and cons’

“Pro.” You murmur as you write. “I have a better credit score than you.”

Syd sputters, half sarcastic. “Well, that’s just uncalled for.”

“It’ll give you more options for places! Better ones! Ones with in-unit laundry!” You defend.

“In-unit laundry…” “Your eyes just lit up in such a sad way.” “Con. You are an ass.”

“That’s a pro. A real con would be that I have a lot of plants and if I ever go on vacation I’m gonna need you to take care of them, and I’m not gonna have a binder for you, because I water them based on vibes, and if I come back and they’re dying I’m gonna be pissed off and very passive aggressive about it.”

“Violently honest.” “Pro. Mostly direct. Aside from when I’m not.” “Con. I’m not direct.”

“Con. That’s fine but if I get the idea that you’re mad at me I’m gonna act really weird about it until you reassure me that everything is okay and you don’t want to throw me out the window.”

“Yeah. Con. Same.”

“Pro. I’ve lived by myself for a while, which is good to have when you’re moving out of your parents for the first time. Con. I’ve lived by myself for a while, and I’m very used to the lifestyle of big t-shirt no pants, I’m not giving that up.”

Now that one takes Syd a second to unpack, “But, but like, underwear though, right—?”

“No shit I wear underwear!”

“Okay! It’s important to note!”

“Don’t be weird.” Richie grumbles behind you, solidly directed at Carmen.

Who’s whole face really just scrunches up in confusion. “‘Don’t be weird’? You don’t be weird.”

“I’m not bein’ fuckin’ weird—” “Then why are you up in my shit—” “Up in your shit? Oh wow—” “Fully not what I was referencing—” “Don’t be weird, cousin!” “I literally— I did not even move— Not a single cell in my body—” “And— And you only know that ‘cause you had to lock it down, you dog—”

“I don’t remember having kids, why the fuck am I in a Kindergarden?” Uncle Jimmy interrupts.

“I’m just takin’ care of my boy, Unc.” Richie raises a hand in defense, feigning innocence. “Can’t be too careful.”

“You super can, and you super are.” You grimace, elbowing him again. “And also, not important–!”

“Actually, no, very important.” Syd of all people interrupts. “Non-negotiable, like you can’t— …Like you— …When I’m home it’s like— Don’t—” Ah.

You roll your eyes and save her before she just about breaks out in a feverish sweat. “Syd, I wasn’t planning on it. That’s like roommate rule one.”

“Syd.” Richie points to his own eyes, then to hers, ‘watching you’. “Don’t be weird.”

“What the fuck—”

“Everyone shut up, pros and cons—!” You shout, gaining the attention back. “Pros. I have a car, we work at the same place, I have all the furniture for a living room already,  you'd never have to wait for a landlord to fix something ever again, and I could probably do a bunch of D-I-Y renter friendly projects, if you wanted.”

“...Oh my god, a French-door pantry.” “I think I could swing that.” “Pros. You’ll never have to cook again. I guess that’s my only pro, actually.”

“Con. I have been feeding the cat on my fire escape for like a year and if I’m moving I am going to have to adopt her, so we’re gonna have a cat. She’s cute, she has five toes on each paw. Something dactyl, it’s called.”

“What’s her name?” Squid’s not excited per se, but she’s not saying no. 

You shrug. “I never named her, let’s name her together.”

“No, that’s too much pressure—” “No, you’ll do great—” “What do you mean I’ll do great—?” “Three–” “Oh like together together? No! What—?!” “Shut up, just do it, head empty, two—” “No! I’m just not gonna say any—” “Yes you will, Squid. One!”

And together, perfectly in sync, like it was planned all along, you both say on queue, “Calamari!”

“There we go.” You write ‘Calamari’ on the plexiglass. “That’s my girl— That’s our girl, actually. I’m still not sure if she’s a girl.”

You click your tongue against your teeth, knocking your head back and forth in thought as you look at the scribblings on the glass. “Non-negotiables?”

Syd leans forward on the table, chin propped up in her hands. “I need forty-five minutes of bathroom time at the beginning of the day.”

“...Do you have a fuckin’ lactose intolerance?” “It’s my me time!” “Alright! Fuckin’ fifty minutes of toilet time for Syd. Ah, I need east facing windows… and uhm…”

Syd stares at you, and alas, she can tell, “You have a big non-negotiable…”

“It’s not that big… It’s more a group thing than a roommate thing, really…” “What is it?” “I think… It would be fun… If we all started playing Dungeons and Drag—” 

There’s an immediate, staggeringly loud array of groans, you’re still writing it down nonetheless, all the while defending, “I honestly think a little roleplay and math would fix you assholes! I really think it would! I’ll D-M, I’ll make it so easy— Please?”

Syd grimaces, but inevitably nods. “Y’know what, you’re never gonna get a concrete schedule for that down, and no one else is gonna agree so yes, sure from me.” Still a win. 

“Okay.” You hum, capping the marker. “So… Aim to move first of February? You down?”

It takes some time, and you realize as Syd’s brain frozen, that you might be overstepping. “Sorry, that’s going too fast, you think on it—”

“...I’m down.” You make it very easy for her to say yes, by giving her the option to say no. “Yeah, let’s do it. February. I’m down.”

“I’m so happy for you two, but I’m still fuckin’ reeling— Chippy, it’s– it’s— So many memories—” Richie’s being overly dramatic on purpose, hand on your shoulder, really laying on the vocal fry in his voice; but it is true. “I mean, come on, first time I’d ever been stabbed was on your block.”

“Sorry, what?” Carmen was having fun watching his two favourite employees figure out they’d be perfect roommates. He loves to be a fly on walls around you more than he’d like to admit. Richie managed to ruin it with one line. “Stabbed on your block?”

“Yeah,” You suck the air between your teeth, trying to think of some sort of white lie, but slowly shake your head, “I— Yeah, there’s no real way for me to down play it, I was so fuckin’ scared.”

“You were tweaking!” Richie laughs, clapping his hand against your shoulder, to him it’s a charming story— You’d probably be laughing too, if Carmen didn’t seem so… unpleased, let’s say. “You fuckin’ thought I was gonna die!”

“You fucking were!” You slap Rich’s hand away. “It was so close to a cerebral artery— First and last time I’ll administer stitches in my fucking kitchen, hand to God—”

“What’s the story?” Oh, new face from Carmen you haven’t seen before, bewildered annoyance, you’d describe it as, it’s going in your bottom five. “You live in a bad neighbourhood?”

“It’s rustic—” You try, but Richie opts to speak on your behalf. “Oh, Chip lives in a terrible neighbourhood, Cousin. You’ve been there, haven’t you?”

“Yeah but it didn’t seem that bad— No— Hold on, go back, stabbed why?”

“So I heroically defended a boy from crooked—” Richie tries, but you opt to speak on his behalf. “Richie was helping me bring up groceries, we saw some highschoolers shaking a kid down, Richie tried to break it up, one of ‘em stabbed him with one of those shitty switchblade comb things.”

“You got stabbed by a kid?” Syd snorts, but immediately regrets it because she has perfectly set him up for—

“Yeah, and wouldn’t be the last time, would it?”

“Richie, c’mon…” You reach up, patting the guy’s shoulder. “It was an accident and she apologized—”

Richie just raises his eyebrows, interrupting with a simple, “Mm-mm.” 

And so yours raise in tow, “...Fuck you mean ‘mm-mm’?” And your head turns to Syd, alarmed. “Syd, you apologized, right?”

Her mouth just sort of hangs, sputtering noises do come out of it, but nothing that strings a sentence together. You grow more agog, repeating again, astonished, nearly laughing from the shock, “Syd?! You apologized, right?! And told him it was an accident, right?”

Syd takes a beat, but she gets there. “I— I. Am. Sorry I stabbed you by accident, Richie.”

“Hm.” Richie crosses his arms, considering, mostly sarcastically. “Yeah, I’ll take it, I guess. Would’ve liked a card.”

“I am not getting you a card.” “I’m jus’ sayin’ I’d’ve liked one.”

Carmen’s still five steps behind, “Are you gonna be fine living there? In January?”

You choke back a laugh, because this is how men try to show they care, one must imagine. “I’ve been fine for the past handful of years living there, I think I’ll be fine for another month, sweetheart.”

“Crime is bad in January.”

“I was a first responder, and I know that’s not true.” You shake your head, shirking off laughter. “It’s actually in the summer that you see shit go down. Again, I will be fine. But you are free to visit.”

“Point of order.” The Computer finally pipes up again— Might’ve forgot he was here, if you’re honest. “What are we talking about anymore?”

“Point of order— I feel like numbers— Talking numbers is great but it’s all just like— Paper, y’know?” You unlatch the plexiglass, gently settling it back down on the table. “We should be talking more.”

Tina nearly whistles in agreement, nodding by your side. “Heavy that, Jeff.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’, like—” You snap your fingers to the rest of the crew, hand moving to and fro to point at everyone, “Did y’all know until right now that Syd was moving? …No, right? Let’s like— Fuckin’ remember to check in, like y’know, family, Chefs.”

And without calling her out, you can feel Tina’s demeanor next to you change, relaxed. 

“Heard, Chef.” Is the agreement from the crew, however, The Computer nor Cicero seem convinced, so with a sigh, you put on your most authoritative voice.

 “Y’know. Three Cs! Caring cuts costs!” A phrase no one has ever said, but it sounds legitimate when you put it like that. That gets them to acquiesce. 

Thank God, Marcus helps you move the conversation along, “...What’s everyone doing for the holidays?” Alas for both of you, the silence is deafening. “...Or not.”

You volley back for him, “If no one has hard plans I was thinking of having a lil’ Holiday party? Nothing big. Sort of a ‘goodbye old apartment’ party? Come by after you hang out with your families or whatever?”

“Not gonna go up to Oak Park?” Rich leans one arm on your shoulder, nursing his whiskey cocktail in the other. 

“Meh.” You shrug, attempting to push him off you, but he doubles down. “We’re not so intense about holidays since everyone’s aged. I’ll visit my nephew on New Years.” 

“I’m doin’ Eve with Eva, but I’ll be free on the day. I’ll come by. We doin’ gifts?”

“I mean I got you something, so,” You tap the bottom of his glass as Rich takes another sip, making him flinch. “Catch the fuck up.” 

Syd pipes in, sniffing. “Me and my dad only celebrate on Christmas Eve now, so I’ll come.”

“Incredible. Two down.” You gesture to Marcus and Tina across the table. “You guys? Tina I assume you’ve got a loving family and shit?”

Tina smiles and nods, rightfully proud. “I do have a loving family and shit, but maybe I’ll come by late with them too?”

And Marcus tacks on with her, “I’m gonna be with my mom most of the night, but I’ll come through for a couple hours.”

“Perfect, perfect. Invites open to any plus ones as long as you text me first!” You hum, writing names down on the glass board. It’s kind of a nightmare of different lists at this point. “Richie, can you make sure Fak and Sweeps get the invite?”

“Yessir.”

“And us!?” Shrieks Cheech in the back, who really shouldn’t be able to hear you, he should be in the zone, slinging sandwiches.

You yell back without turning to him. “Yes, fucker, you and E can come, if you want! No fuckin’ plus one for you though!”

“Oh come the fuck on, Jack-Off!”

“Oh, make me a fuckin’ sandwich, big man!”

“Oh, I’ll make you a fuckin’ sandwich!”

“Oh, my dick!” A response that makes no sense, consistently the perfect bookend. You sigh, and finally, your eyes flit to the most terrified two in the room. “Berzattos… Holiday plans?”

“I think we’re gonna do dinner on Christmas Eve, and then the morning together? Well, I am.” Sug hesitates, she’s looking between Uncle Jimmy and Carmen. “I was gonna ask what Carm’s plan is…”

“I’ll go. I’ll go.” Carmen has to stop himself from biting the skin off the tips of his fingers. “I’ll go. And I’ll come to the party, after.” 

“I’ll probably just go home with Pete after. Baby’s first Christmas, y’know.” Natalie hums and nods awkwardly. There’s a question both of them want to ask. Neither of them are brave enough to ask it. And while you can sense there’s something dancing in the air, you’re not going to overstep on this front. 

“Mazel. I can buy silly decor with reason now. …Now let’s talk about the important grievances.” You hum, happy to end that chapter.

You turn just slightly to gently slap Richie’s cheek as he stands next to you. “Rich, you need to line your beard up, this neckbeard shit is pissing me off—”

“What’s with the fuckin’ drive by?!” “It’s been on my mind forever— You can’t be wearin’ suits and then be rockin’ that unkempt shit, clean up—” “I’m clean! I’m fucking clean!” “Who said? Who fuckin’ said? Cause I sure didn’t!” “How’m I s’posed to be linin’ my shit up every mornin’—” “You do not grow a beard that fast—” “Oh fuck you, I’m not fuckin’ Carmen, I grow a fuckin’ beard.”

Carmen’s just surprised to hear his name out of any name come up. “What– Now that’s a fucking drive by, what the fuck?” 

“If we’re voicing grievances, I’d like to voice my fuckin’ complaint with Captain Crash-Out over here—” “Who the fuck is sublimating now?” “You’re not usin’ that term correctly, cause you’re not integrated—” “I thought you two worked this out on the road trip!” “We did!”

You only half regret starting this feud with the beard comment— To be fair, you’re right. “This is it working?” 

“This is, in fact, it working.” Syd confirms plainly, her disappointment more than apparent. Rubbing the tips of her fingers to her temples. The fight is out of her, at this point. 

“Alright.” You slap your hands together. “Richie, what is your complaint?” Are you just union rep now? You might be a union rep now. 

“Carmen is fucking killing me.” The cocktail swishes and nearly spills as Richie points at the Chef, emphatic. “He won’t change shit for guests!”

“No substitutions!” It’s almost cultish, the way Sydney and Carmen yell it out together. 

Richie scoffs, head reeling back. “What happened to it bein’ about hospitality?” 

“I mean…” You suck air through your teeth, squinting. “If we’re sayin’ no substitutions, it’s no substitutions— Unless it’s like an allergy or sensory thing— But even then, it shouldn’t be like a major component getting replaced.”

“See? See?” It’s almost maniacal, rabid, how delighted Carmen is that you’re on his side. “Fuckin’ thank you. This is why I lo—” 

Before Carmen can finish his sentence, Richie flails about to suddenly throw the peach and blueberry skewer from his drink at Carmen— Not the pointed side, he doesn’t want to stab the guy. Just wants to save him from running his mouth. The peach slice hits Carm’s chest as Richie stutters out, “F-Fuck you, fuck you, fine. No substitutions— What the fuck am I supposed to say then?” speaking over whatever syllables fell out of Carmen’s mouth, muddling them. 

You cock your brow, but Carmen seems to quickly let the childish toss go, more than eager to move on. So you do too. “...Say some bullshit like, like, The Bear encourages —uhm— explorative culinary experiences where you let your taste buds go beyond your limitations and comforts— So eat a fuckin’ mushroom, you’re not gonna die.”

“If they don’t like mushrooms—” “Then they shouldn’t order it!” “How hard is it to just fuckin’ switch it out!?” “So hard! So hard! I think! I could guess!”

“I could do it.”

“Could you?” You cross your arms, leaning your weight onto one leg, pivoting to Richie. “Okay, roleplay, you’re Carmen, I’m you—” Just as Richie opens his mouth, you hold your index finger to his lips. “I know you wanna be a bitch, I’m askin’ you to just skip that part for me.”

His shit eating grin is only a little endearing. “How am I supposed to be in character if I’m not allowed to be a bitch?”

You clench and unclench your hands in the air, but let it go, opting to move on to your little thought experiment. “Chef, patient—” Instincts never give out, huh? “Christ, patron doesn’t want mushrooms in their anolini, I need you to sub it.”

“Ah, well I’m happy to do that for you, Host Richie, I—” He’s going to go into some scathing spiel, and you love the guy, but you have to rub dirt in the wound for the lesson to stick. 

You speak over him, voice stern, “Chef. In order to keep pace, I need you to make this call in fifteen seconds, what are you subbing it for?”

Richie’s head shakes back and forth as he scrambles to get his brain to work.“Fuckin— Fucking– Eggplant.” 

“Eggplant?” You ask politely, tone unsure. Carmen asks it with you, tone ridiculing. 

“It’s a sauce isn’t it?” You squint, turning your head to the actual Carmen. “It’s like a really thick mushroom sauce stuffed pasta?”

He tilts his head from side to side, but nods. In gist, yes. “It’s a ragout. Low and slow cooked stew—” Carmy’s ready to rave about it and teach you every facet of the dish, but perhaps that’s too romantic for a public setting. God, he’s weird about love. “We keep it going on our back burners all day— It takes an hour minimum to make from scratch, you can’t just sub it.” 

“Yeah, well…” Richie stops himself short of getting snarky for no reason all over again, taking a second to think about it. “Well, I didn’t know that. You didn’t explain that shit to me.”

“I don’t have time to hold your fuckin’ hand—” Carmen stops short of getting catty when you give him a very soft and yet gutting disappointed look. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sniffing. “I can’t explain why I do everythin’ I do when I’m— When we’re in a middle of a rush, I just need you to trust when kitchen says we can’t do it. Trust that I thought it through.”

Richie has to control himself, has to make sure the corners of his mouth don’t upturn just slightly, has to make sure it’s not clear that he is overjoyed that there’s finally middle ground, can’t get his hopes up. He nods. “I just wanna make everyone happy, y’know?”

“I know. You’re—” Carmen’s nose scrunches up for a second, God, he’s never had to say that he think’s Richie’s good to his face. And he’s not gonna start now, “Eggplant would be a good sub, if we had time.”

Richie prods his tongue along the side of his cheek, thinking. “Maybe I could look into knowin’ restrictions faster and estimatin’ their orders, so you can have ‘em on deck?”

And Carmen does think that’d be a waste of time, but he’s learning. He hears it out. “Could give it a shot, yeah.”

“Same team.” Richie reaches across the counter, and Carmen actually takes his hand, a quick dap. Civil.

“Same team.” First time you’ve heard Carmen adopt your idiom; you can’t help but smile, though you’re trying to hide it. You’re too focused on arguably the two most important men in your life to notice the silent conversation Uncle Jimmy is having with The Computer, speaking solely through nods and exchanged glances. 

Pay is for Chip. Cicero nods, and The Computer nods back. He gets it now. Pay is for Chip. Not just the mixologist, not just the sommelier, not just the repairman, not just the not-quite girlfriend, Chip. You’re Chip. You’re the cog, the piece. The grease between everyone. 

You’re the guy. Always have been, always will be. 

The silent conversation and the warm feeling in the room is cut short though, by The Computer. “Can she deal with the butter thing?”

“What the fuck is the butter thing?” You immediately jump onto the case, when Carmen looks down and away from you, you frown, leaning in. “What’s the butter thing?”

Jimmy snaps his fingers at The Computer, he hands him an invoice, which is then handed off to you. Old Major Farms, Orwellian Butter, salted and unsalted. $11,268. You just. Stare. The math comes all too easy to your head. Worth a week? 

“It’s the best.” Carmen repeats as your eyes remain worryingly unblinking. “It’s—”

“Carm.” Syd all but hisses, shaking her head in tight swivels, waving her hand around her neck for him to cut it. “Making it worse.”

“Angel is like, the worst it can get.” Hums Richie. Recalling your barometer of anger. Recalling the times when Mikey would say ‘what’s the point of paying bills?’ And you’d have to pull him aside. “Can’t get much lower than that besides—”

“Light of my life.” You look up from the paper in your hand, and both Richie and Sydney wince. Your voice is terrifyingly delicate as you nod over to the room behind you. “Apple of my eye. Can I speak to you in your office, please?”

Carmy’d like to say no. “...Yeah.” But you already started walking before he even answered, so there’s not much of a choice here. You head in by yourself, and thankfully, the door closes behind you, so Carmen’s got a second before he gets devoured. 

He walks around the counter, and as he nears the door, Richie grabs his arm. He whispers as he hands Carmen what’s left of his cocktail. “You need to lock the fuck in.”

“I know.” Carm returns, shooting down all that’s left of the lowball. Why’s Richie’s the sweet one? Why’d Carmen get the cough syrup drink? That’s not fair. Do you not think he’s sweet? “Thank you for the— Intercept.” 

Richie nods, he’s been unwillingly playing quarterback for Carmen since going to Rockefeller and seeing that goddamn giant tree and Carmen couldn’t stop opening his big fucking mouth after seeing you under the star. “Just think with your brain, not your—”

“Don’t.” “Was gonna say heart.” “Sure.” “Don’t be weird.”

“I know it’s expensive.” Carmen gets it out before even fully closing the door behind him, “But it’s normal prices, for high-end restaurants. I know it’s different—” He stops short when he finally turns around from the closed door, to see you, holding your painting. 

It’s facing you, you’re reviewing it in your hands where you sit in the office chair; the brown wrapping paper freshly ripped and on the floor. Carmen still doesn’t know what’s on the piece. 

“Carm.” You twist the piece around in your hand, turning it to him. He can see the nine squares. The Beef to The Bear. Mikey. “This is not another restaurant.”

Carmen continues to stare, silently, though he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out to graze over the canvas. You keep going, clarifying. “We’re not just another high-end restaurant. We’re us. And so we should be doing things like us. We’re the best, we don’t need the stuff to be.”

He was with you until that last part. His pursed lips say as much.

“It’s—” You smack your lips together, haphazardly handing him the canvas, he’s very quick to grab it with both hands, not wanting it unstable for a second. “Hold on, let me show you somethin’ — I think I left one in here.”

You roll the office chair back a bit, sinking down in the seat to reach far behind a tall cabinet; you have to pad your hand around in the dark nook for quite some time before you pull out— A screwdriver. An oddly shaped one, at that.

“...Has that been here the whole time?”

You nod. “Like threeish years at least, I think I threw it back there while telling it’s origin story. It’s part of the first set I ever got.” You grip the flat wooden handle. “It’s the worst screwdriver on earth, like, by far.” 

That gets a little chuckle out of Carmen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You look up from it to him. “It’s a handmade set. Dad’s dad made it.” You awkwardly roll closer to him, he leans over, head next to your head as you both look down at it. “It’s got a flat wooden handle, made of poplar— So not only is it fucking impossible to get a good grip on, it’s also so fucking slippery. It’s part of a whole set, passed down from my grandpa to my dad to me.”

“Sounds fucked.”

“It is.” You laugh, and so does he. “It’s purposefully meant to piss you off.” You rub your thumb over the dent marks in the wood— All from the times you threw it at something— Including the very cabinet that it hid behind. “You ever wonder why I took over the handyman gig, bein’ the youngest and all?”

Carmy shrugs, glancing from the screwdriver to you. “Just assumed you were the best.”

That gets another laugh out of you, and Carmen’s overjoyed by the sound. “Yeah, I’m probably the best. But that’s only cause I kept up with it.”

You turn your head up to face Carmen again as you explain, “When our dad started bringing us to jobs as kids, he would make us exclusively use this set of screwdrivers— Sort of as a secret test. My brothers would get pissed off, as planned, and they’d quit and cry. And I dunno, I guess I’d cry and keep going? And I learned a couple tricks, eventually.”

“Tricks?”

“Like.” You pull back in the chair and run your hand across the office desk. The corners of it are screwed into the metal cabinet below it. “It’s really good if you’re screwing from the top down.” Using it as an example, you start to unscrew it. “It’s balanced. And it’s really all in the grip— Always loosen your grip with this one. Even if that seems counterintuitive.”

You get it to unscrew just fine with your loosened grip. “But if that doesn’t work, and you just can’t get it to work—” You lift the screwdriver in front of his face, showing off the sides of the handle. He smirks at the— “Just make your own grooves, it’ll be easier to hold.” Tiny teeth marks. 

“Carm.” You tap the handle to his nose as he zones in too much on it. “I’m the best repairman because I can work with anything. You’re the best Chef because you can work with anything. You don’t need the best when you’re the best.”

He’s the best? 

He’s the best. 

He’s the best. 

“I truly think you could make just as good a plate with Becel as this fucking Animal Farm butter.” 

Carmen’s the best. You think he’s the best. 

He’s gotta think with his head and not with his heart and not with anything else, either. Lock the fuck in, Carmen.

“I dunno bout all that.” He shrugs, bashful and attempting to hide it, trying to shake the praise off his back. 

“Well I know ‘bout that.” You shrug back, “I’m actually kind of a genius, when it comes to knowing who’s good and who’s not.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Carmy hums, and the sound is sweet without reservations. “...Painting is very good.” He nods to himself, on repeat, like a bobblehead. “Or I guess it’s less a painting and more a buncha photo transfers?”

“Yeah.” You set the screwdriver aside on the desk. “Most of them I took.”

“They’re good. It’s—” He pauses, tongue against his teeth. “It’s nice to see evidence he kept up, or somethin’.”

You nod, seeing Carmen’s brain struggle to keep pace in real time. “We took that one I think the day we talked to Uncle Jimmy about The Bear? Had to print out articles as proof we could make it work— Or, that you could make it work, rather.”

Carmen sniffs, crossing his arms, hands in tight fists— Probably too tight— where they hide. “Yeah, kinda fuckin’ up my end of the bargain, hm?” The light laugh that follows is hollow.

“Eh. You both did.” You smile, though it’s hesitant. “ But at least you’re still here fixing it.”

Still here. Still fixing it. That is in essence, the piece. Carmen gets lost staring at the squares, so you speak as he does. “I was trying to like. I dunno, replicate your brain.” He can see it. The messy yet coherent, controlled yet chaos. The love. The grief. The progress. The home. You see him. He can see that you see him. 

“11k for butter,” Carm’s head doesn’t move but his eyes raise to you. “Is a week. More than a week.”

Ah. Carmen can see you too, see your thought process. The Ascaso, worth one of the worst weeks of Mikey’s life. The fucking butter. Worth more than a week of Mikey’s sobriety. 

All you can do is nod solemnly. “It is, yeah.” 

He nods back, tongue prodding his cheek. “That’s too much.”

“I’d agree.”

“I’ll switch to local.” You make it easy for him to fix his mistakes, by giving him the space to realize them. 

“I think that’s the right call.” You nod, smiling. After a moment, you reach for Carmen to uncross his arms, and when he does, you take his fist and uncurl it— Your hand is a very soothing balm to the spots where he dug his nails into his own hand.

“Loosen your grip, Carmy.”

And so, he does. With a laugh and a look to high heaven, he loosens his grip. Really loosens his grip. Well— Not completely, he’s not going to say that, but he will say something that is just nearly as difficult but not quite. He'll bite down a little. He’ll make the grooves, for now, until his grip is good enough.

“Come to dinner with us?”

would you believe me if i said I had to rewrite a bit of this last scene because intially it went so rom-com and I was so disgusted when I reread it in the morning I had to stare at it in the subway ride to work like "what the fuck am I gonna do"

was this chapter good? God I hope so. I felt like with where we're going, it was kinda necessary to do Chip's onboard, set the stage for what work is like for her. I had to loosen my own grip with this one lmao. just allow myself to be a LITTLE messy. if it's bad, lie to me. tell me sweet little lies peach

DAD REVEAL THOUGH EH? MR CK!!! So much did happen this chapter. Chips on board! Squid Ink moving in together era commences! Christmas party!! Also. Would you believe me if I told you no shit syd was gonna move, she was planning it in S2, but I was planning this whole time for Ink to get evicted!! I want those fuckers to be roommates STAT!!!

anyways, i really hope i remembered to write down everyone that asked to be added to the taglist, i might've not. i'm very sorry if i didnt

oh also if you wanna be added!! send in your thoughts!! words for words baby, essay for essay cmonnn gimme ur character analysis!! (oh and also ask to be added, ofc)

@hoetel-manager , @fridavacado @sharkluver , @spectacular-skywalker , @silas-aeiou , @deadofnight0 , @sunbreathingstuff , @anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @blueaproncarmy @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @mrs-perfectly-fine @thefreakingbear @anytim3youwant

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

So Much To Learn

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: a lot, again; Sub!Spencer and kinda mean dom reader, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader is 21), hand job/teasing, honorifics & pet names, marking a lot, p in v sex, they both talking diiiiirty, minor praise, risky sex, multiple orgasms, edging, squirting- I think I got everything??

Genre: Smut kinda fluff and like minor minor angst if you squint

Summary: You don't react well when you realize someone else is giving your professor boyfriend entirely too much of their attention

A/N: technically this is a continuation of So Much To Teach but order is arbitrary lol

Part 1< >Part 3

***

The weeks after Spencer's confession in his office are- fun to say the least. Meeting in secret, teasing him in class, it's all very exciting. With finals just around the corner now though, you're not sure what it means for the two of you. Will he be interested in establishing anything solid with you once you're out of his class? Will things continue as they are? Will he toss you aside only to replace you with another student from another class next semester? The last possibility bothers you more than you'd like to admit. You'll have to find a good time to bring it up to him soon. Between preparing for final exams or papers and Spencer's near insatiable appetite for time with you there's never a moment you want to risk ruining with what will no doubt be an awkward conversation.

There's a slight knock on the door at the back of the classroom that interrupts Spencer's lecture and your wandering mind. Everyone turns to see another professor walk into the room.

"Oh shoot. I'm so sorry Spence I- I thought your class would be over by now." Professor Greene says. She has the decency to look remorseful although you've noticed her sniffing around Spencer for a little while now so you roll your eyes to yourself.

"Oh don't worry about it Professor Greene we're just wrapping up, come on in." Spencer says kindly. "Alright guys reminder, your finals are online and are due at the end of finals week- that's Friday in two weeks' time. We're not meeting on Thursday but next Tuesday for our final meeting time together I'll be having a review session. It's not mandatory but I'll be here during our class time to answer any last minute study questions you may have. I hope to see you next week but if not good luck on all your finals, if you're graduating congratulations, enjoy your holidays, and have a good day!" Spencer dismisses the class. Usually, you'd linger to drop by his office after class but with Professor Greene about to commandeer his attention, you're not sure if you should. Still, you take your time packing up your things while listening in on their conversation.

"I really am so sorry I interrupted your lecture, Spence. I just wanted to ask about the staff meeting I missed the other day." Professor Greene says.

"Oh don't worry about it, Professor Greene but I can email you my notes from the meeting real quick." Spencer says walking over to his computer.

"I've told you a thousand times Spencer call me Ellie." She says patting his shoulder. Spencer mutters something you can barely hear as you exit the classroom. You don't catch the way his eyes trail after you for a moment before he focuses back on sending this email.

"Y/n!" Matt calls pretty much as soon as you make it out of the classroom.

"Oh, hey Lewis. What's up?"

"Was wondering if you were free to meet up sometime to do some studying for the final? Ya know that way we can help each other with things that are confusing and anything we can't figure out together- we can bring up next week during the review session."

"Ya know what that's a great idea Matt. Why don't we do Thursday- since we don't have class we can just hit the library during that time." You suggest.

"Perfect. I'll meet you at the library on Thursday then." Matt smiles, rushing ahead to catch up with some friends. You make your way to Spencer's office like you do after every class although usually you walk together. Today you sit on the bench that's a few feet from his office and wait for him while reading a book.

"Sweetheart. I was wondering where you ran off to." Spencer says when he reaches his office.

"Didn't want to interrupt. She likes you, you know."

"What?" He frowns over his shoulder at you as he unlocks his office door.

"Professor Greene. She was totally flirting with you when she came in during class." You stand up and follow him into his office.

"Was she?" He hums.

"You're telling me you didn't notice?" You scoff.

"Do you want me to notice other women flirting with me?"

"I don't care, Spencer, you're not my boyfriend-"

"Hey, that's not fair." He frowns. You know it's not, Spencer told you early on the only thing stopping him from labeling your relationship was because of how risky it is to date your professor, but you're apparently facing jealousy and it's making you mean.

"I was only saying she's being really obvious. Whether you're interested or not though, is your business. I have some studying to do so I can't stick around today but I didn't want to disappear without letting you know." You say dismissively.

"Y/n," Spencer says softly.

"I'll see you next week." You tell him, turning on your heel. You need to get your feelings under control and quickly.

"I'm not interested in her. You have to know you're the only one on my mind." Spencer says before you make it out the door. You're not even sure what to say back, so you leave without a word.

You've never considered yourself a jealous or insecure person but for some reason, Professor Greene really gets under your skin when it comes to Spencer. Maybe it's because you know it would be easier for him to date her, she's close to his age and there's no taboo surrounding that pairing. That doesn't make feeling this way any less annoying. I mean- you've been ignoring her attempts at making advances at him for the past couple of months but you think the stress of exams and final papers is exacerbating a feeling you normally wouldn't even notice. Honestly, you have entirely too much else going on to be wasting time focused on staking your claim over a man that's only yours in locked offices, empty halls, and dark rooms. You don't fight over men, if Professor Greene can 'take him from you' she can absolutely have him.

By Thursday when you meet up with Matt, you've managed to knock those ugly thoughts of Spencer and Professor Greene to the back of your head, drowning yourself in studying and paper writing. You have no problems in Spencer's class, even before you were fucking him you had an A average so his final is the least of your worries but you know a review can't hurt. You spend way longer than the length of a class studying with Matt, he's a good student which appears to come with great effort on his part. He goes over things in such depth you're actually a little impressed and for a moment there you wonder what it would be like to pick the easy lover. Matt's kind, and attractive, and it would be much less complicated, no sneaking around- well maybe a bit but it would be for fun, not out of necessity. He'd walk you to class holding your hand, and kiss you on the quad, you'd probably adopt his whole friend group, they're athletes whose girlfriends always seem to be adored by all of them. It would be nice, it would be sweet. If things with Spencer do end at the end of the term you'll seriously consider falling for Matt. The version of reality where you end up with him sounds good. If only you'd realized it before Spencer caught your eye so severely. Would things be different? Would you be holding Matt's hand across the table right now? Sitting next to each other in class? Having him over to study late into the night until you'd have him just stay over because you don't want him to leave so late? It seems silly to spend so much time dwelling on a world that you gave up months ago. You blame it on the stress of the end of a semester.

When Tuesday rolls around you go to the review session knowing you don't actually have any questions but maybe someone will ask one you didn't think of that will come in handy. There are not that many people here for the review, some kids from other sections for sure, but still only maybe 20 of you in total. Spencer tries a number of times to catch your attention while he answers questions to gauge how you're feeling but you don't give anything away on your face. That is until Professor Greene walks in about halfway through the review session.

"Hi Spence! Sorry to interrupt, I know you're reviewing for finals and stuff but I ordered a sandwich for lunch and they gave me 2? I just thought I'd offer you one." She smiles as she scurries to the front of the room. Spencer catches the wry smile that just barely cracks your poker face for a moment and he's almost nervous to address Professor Greene.

"Oh- I appreciate it Professor Greene but I brought lunch, I always do. Perhaps Mike would like it if he's on campus? I know he usually buys food at the student center for lunch." He offers. Graceful rejection. Hopefully enough to keep you happy and put off his coworker at the same time. You make a point to not react outwardly but you do notice his choice to call her Professor Greene while calling another professor in the building Mike despite her giggling request last week to call her by her first name.

"Mike?" She blinks at him.

"Yeah he's- probably doing some grading in his office upstairs." Spencer smiles. "Anyone have any other questions for me?" He turns his attention back to the small group of students who mostly seem ready to leave after watching the exchange.

"The exam is a combination of multiple choice and short answer right?" A woman asks.

"Correct, just like your exams in class." He nods. "It- seems like we've covered all your questions guys so, I think it's okay for us to wrap this up a bit early yes?" Spencer asks. Professor Greene is still in the room but Spencer avoids her gaze diligently as the class murmurs affirmatives.

"Spence before you head off can I speak to you for a moment?" Professor Greene asks quietly while the rest of the room is busy packing up their things.

"Of course." He answers reluctantly. "Miss y/n, don't go far I have an assignment of yours I'd like to discuss in my office." Spencer tells you before you can even stand up.

"Sure prof." You drawl resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Look Spencer the sandwich was- a decoy. I mean they did give me an extra that I wanted to offer you but it was really an excuse to ask you something else." Professor Greene's tone is hushed as you and a few others are still milling about the room.

"Oh- well what is it?" Spencer asks though his gaze shifts to you every so often. You who sits so seemingly unbothered waiting for him, chewing gum, tapping away on your phone, not even looking their way although your ears are definitely paying attention.

"I'm having a little faculty get-together and I wanted to invite you personally."

"What, like going out for drinks?"

"Yeah exactly! Will you be there?"

"Uh- email me the details and I'll let you know."

"Awesome! I really hope to see you there Spence." She places her hand on his arm and he quickly walks over to his satchel to escape the touch.

"I'll- see what I can do." He mutters. "Is that all? I don't want to keep y/n waiting all afternoon."

"Y/n?" She frowns.

"My student? The only person in the room. Who I asked to wait up when I dismissed everyone?" Spencer frowns at her.

"Right! I guess I forgot. One track mind sometimes." She waves off with a giggle. How unnecessarily dismissive.

"Y/n. My office. Ready to go?" He turns his attention to you without even addressing her comment.

"Whenever you're done." You shrug.

"That would be now."

"Alright. Let's go." You stand up and exit the class before him.

"I'll see you at the gathering Spencer." Professor Greene says as he follows you out. You don't say anything as you walk down the halls with Spencer trailing behind. He thinks he handled that well but he can't tell. It's like you're being hard to read on purpose. He unlocks his office door and lets you inside before him, shutting it behind him.

"Look I-"

"I think you should go." You tell him first.

"What?"

"To her little get together. I think you should go." You shrug.

"You do?" He frowns which deepens when you nod. "Why?" He asks.

"It's good for you to socialize with your coworkers." You offer noncommittally.

"You're in a better mood about her today than you were last week." He says carefully.

"Is the door locked?" You ask him.

"What?"

"To your office. Did you lock the door?"

"Oh- yes. I always lock-"

"Yes is sufficient." You say sitting in his office chair.

"Sweetheart, talk to me, what's-" He stops when you hold up one of your hands.

"Spencer, drop to your knees." You say.

"What?" He blinks at you.

"It's a very simple instruction, I would expect a man with as many degrees as you hold would be able to understand a 4-word command."

"I understood it fine I just-"

"Then why are you still standing? If you understood it Spencer do it. I want you on your knees. Now." You cross your arms. Spencer slowly, unsurely, lowers himself to his knees, still by the door to his office. "That's better. Come over to me. And just so we're clear you'll have to crawl." Spencer bends and shuffles over to you on his hands and knees, gaze pointed at the carpet in his office. You've discussed the possibility of him giving up control a number of times but this is not how he expected today to go. When he's by your side you lift his chin up to force his eyes to yours. "Finals week starts in two days Spence, I've got three papers and two exams to think about. I don't have time to worry about if you're going to behave or not." You tell him.

"I-"

"Choose your next words very carefully baby they might just ruin your day." You warn him.

"I would never misbehave darling. My loyalties are to you." He says softly.

"Are you willing to prove that?" You ask.

"However you ask me to." He says immediately.

"I like that answer." You hum. You tug your dress over your head and drop it on his desk. "You can start by removing my panties with your teeth." You tell him. "Just your teeth. I want your hands behind your back." You add. Spencer shuffles forward and tugs at your underwear with his teeth. You move only when absolutely necessary to help but he gets them off after a few moments and holds them between his lips, looking at you for further instructions. "Good boy professor." You pull them from his mouth and drop them on the desk beside your dress. "You'll need your mouth free for this next bit." You say threading your fingers into his hair. "Your loyalties are with me you said?"

"Of course princess." Spencer's reply is breathy.

"Hm- no, not princess. Today you can call me mistress or your queen. I'll let you choose but only between those two. Anything else will get you in trouble and- today is not the day to get in trouble."

"O-okay, My Queen."

"Good. And as for proving your loyalties, you can begin with your head between my thighs, let's see how loyal you are." You spread your legs and tug at his hair still in your hand hard enough to shove his face directly into your center. Spencer is quick to react, his tongue laps up your juices as eagerly as you'd expect. He will regularly spend ages between your legs when he can just because he enjoys tasting you so much. Your back arches as he thrusts his tongue into your pussy feverishly. "Yeah, oh fuck, keep going. Show me- show me your devotion." You moan out as you grind against his mouth. Spencer groans into you as you pull at his hair. His tongue curls inside you just barely brushing against that spongy patch and you have to bite your lip to keep from squealing when he does. Spencer's nose nudges at your clit as he focuses his tongue on your inner walls until your legs stiffen around his ears. When that happens he drags his tongue up to your clit and focuses his attention there, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking on it while his tongue lashes it with figure 8s. You almost scream when your orgasm crashes into you, fingers tightening in his hair and your back coming off the chair as you ride the waves of your release. "Don't- don't stop Spence. Fuck- keep sucking my clit." You pant out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the almost painful stimulation, but you want a second orgasm from him before you let him up for air and you plan to get it. You swallow your whines from those first few moments of post-orgasmic overstimulation and force Spencer further into your heat, practically smooshing his face against you. Your moan when overstimulation gives way to pure pleasure again is enough to have Spencer clenching his fists as more blood rushes to his already painfully hard dick. It fills him with a new level of determination as he sharpens the movements of his tongue against you. Your second orgasm builds quickly, and within a few minutes, you're shaking again, this orgasm covering Spencer's face and even squirting onto his shirt. You pull his hair harshly enough to move him away from you as you take a few deep breaths. Spencer sits panting, covered in your juices, pupils blown so wide there's no trace of his hazel-colored irises. "Look at what a mess you are." You hum. "You look pretty like this."

"Thank you- mistress." His voice is hoarse.

"Strip and sit on the couch. You can walk this time." You tell him. He stands, though a little unsteadily, and walks over to the loveseat, taking off his shirt and then his pants before sitting down with his gaze trained on you. You take your time standing from his chair and walking over to him, detouring to grab your jacket that you'd tossed over your backpack upon entry. You won't put the dress back on for now, having totally soaked your lover you have no interest in walking out of here in a damp dress, but your leather jacket will be fine. Spencer watches you with rapt attention as you finally approach him, his dick is an angry looking red flopped against his stomach and his whole body is tense. You drag a finger across his thigh and then up the length of his dick, slowly, reveling in the way he jolts at the contact.

"P-please." He gasps out.

"Please what Spencer?" You tilt your head at him.

"I- I need you to do something my queen I can't- it hurts."

"Do something? I'm already touching you. You need more?"

"Yes mistress, please." Spencer's head is tossed back against the couch as you trace the veins along his dick lazily.

"You're a greedy thing." You hum.

"Please mistress- please my queen I need- god please sit on my dick. Need it so bad- need you. I can't- can't help it." Spencer grips the cushions beneath him tightly, desperately trying not to squirm under your touch.

"Only because you beg very cutely." You tell him swinging your leg over to straddle him. You grip the base of his dick in your hand and lower yourself onto him with a satisfied hum while he lets out a guttural sound that makes your walls clench around him.

"Oh god thank you, my queen. thank you, thank you. You feel so good." Spencer pants out. You brace yourself using his shoulders and set your rhythm, bouncing on his dick quickly.

"Spencer, you're not allowed to cum until I say so." You tell him, grabbing his face to make sure he's listening.

"O-okay mistress. Of course mistress." He nods frantically.

"Fuck Spence this is what you're good for, this is where you belong. Filling me with your pretty little cock, covered in my squirt, you're mine aren't you baby?" You huff as you ride him furiously.

"Yes my queen yes. I'm yours. Just yours. Only you get to use me, touch me, take me. Only you make me feel so good." Spencer groans. You feel his body tense up under you and slow your pace almost to a stop.

"Not yet Spence." You mutter sweetly kissing his neck. You stay there for a few moments, grinding against him as you take some time to litter his throat with hickeys of various sizes some of which are quite dark as well. Dark enough that you're sure he'll have them through finals week. When you're satisfied with the marks covering him you pick up your pace again and his small whimpers from your lips against his skin turn to full-blown moans again. "This time Spencer you can cum, but you ask first." You tell him. He nods at your instruction and while you should scold him for not using his words you'll let it slide considering how close you know he is. He barely manages a few minutes before he's stuttering out his request.

"C-can I mistress please can I cum?" He pants out frantically.

"Good boy. Yes you can." You chuckle airily at the relief on his face when you give him permission. You keep pace until heat spills into you at which point your hips slam down harder against him even when he begins hissing from overstimulation.

"M-my queen I- too sensitive w-wait."

"I said you could cum baby but I didn't say I'd be done with you. Today you're my toy and I'll use you as long as I want. So be good and let me play." You say, letting yourself relish in the feeling of filling yourself over and over, even as his release leaks out of you and makes his thighs sticky. You moan in surprise when Spencer's dick hardens again inside you. "Oh- fuck. Well aren't you just the perfect plaything- eager to keep your queen happy."

"I- I- yes mistress." He whines. You ride him for a while longer, taking all he has to give and then some. He fills you two more times before you're satisfied and you make sure you have a couple more releases of your own by the time you're climbing off of his completely spent dick. You walk carefully over to his desk and grab his pack of wet wipes before walking back over to him, cleaning up the utter mess around his thighs. If he didn't look so exhausted you'd have him clean the mess on your thighs with his tongue, but right now you think if you asked Spencer to do anything else he'd simply collapse, so you take a few wipes to clean up yourself once you're done with him.

"You were very good today Spencer. I'd say you more than proved your devotion." You tell him with a gentle kiss.

"You're mean when you're jealous." He chuckles breathlessly.

"So are you professor." You tap his nose and stand to dress yourself. You pick his clothes up from the floor and lay them on the arm of the chair for whenever he gets the energy to stand and dress himself. You find his lunch and set it out for him on the table as well while you're at it.

"Are you leaving?" He asks, barely able to focus.

"Well- I do have some studying to do. Will you be okay? Do you want me to stay?" You ask. You won't leave him if he's going to drop but you've set up food, cleaned him up, and made sure he knows he did well.

"I- I don't want Professor Greene you know." He mumbles.

"I know, that's why I think you should go to her gathering. With all those pretty marks on your neck, she'll surely get the hint." You say. You bend over and gently brush some hair from his eyes. "You make me feel so territorial." You mutter.

"I'm sorry." He pouts.

"It's not your fault, it's unavoidable but- I don't like hiding you." You say.

"I don't like hiding you either." Spencer takes your hand in his. You pause for a moment and sigh.

"Do you want me to stay with you, Spence?" You ask brushing your thumb against the back of his hand.

"Can you spare the time?" He asks.

"Sure. But at some point, we should talk about what the end of the semester means for us." You say. Spencer sits up and you sit on the couch letting him rest his head in your lap.

"When you finish all your finals I have a question for you." He slurs a bit through his declaration.

"Why not just ask me now?"

"I want your head clear." You can barely make it out, he's obviously falling asleep, your fingers against his scalp lulling him too quickly. You're still high off adrenaline now, not quite ready to sleep but you know you'll feel the effects of this later. Good thing tomorrow is study day and you can get away with not leaving your apartment.

***

A/N: I was gonna post this on Friday but I’m posting it early as a thank you for all the love on part 1 already 🖤

[bluesgrxce]

Yandere (machine-ish?) Connor Headcanons

I love soft deviant Connor like anyone else does, but machine Connor is sooo,,, omgggggggg..... I've been holding in my thoughts about him for so long that it's unhealthy. So I went for a Hannah Montana best of both worlds kinda thing. What if Connor acted like a deviant around you, but a machine towards everyone else?

How this happens is something I can't quite explain. Connor probably couldn't, either. To everyone else, an android is either a machine or a deviant-- There's no such thing as an inbetween. He would have agreed with this prior to bonding with you. You probably treated him in a way that nobody else did, sympathizing with him on a deeper level or making him question his morals, so he can see why that would push him to deviancy. 

But when you're not around, all those overwhelming emotions he felt just fade away. The mission goes back front and center to his priorities. He only feels two things at that point: confusion that runs his LED wild and desire for you that makes his thirium pump pound even when he's not in motion. Nobody else can bring about such reactions within him. 

He runs plenty of diagnostic checks in an attempt to figure out what's wrong with him. At one point, he'll try to avoid you and force himself into staying a machine, but that just makes him less efficient because he'll constantly worry about you instead. 

He would eventually accept himself as a deviant, but only so he wouldn't have to take orders from Cyberlife anymore. He doesn't want anything standing between the two of you. But he still largely acts like a machine and he doesn't mind that at all. He just sets his new mission to making you entirely his... 

Even once Connor sees his emotions as real, it's still his natural instinct to mask them. Especially negative ones like anger, sadness, and jealousy. He wouldn't want to show them unless they benefit his situation somehow, such as if he wanted to persuade or intimidate you/others. Emotions only matter to him if they're useful. 

For example, he *does* feel the desire to show affection towards you, and he will do it. He'll compliment you whenever you do something admirable. He'll reassure you and show geniune worry whenever you're upset about something. He'll even study romance media just to learn how to act more natural in the relationship (He thinks that'll help him act more natural, anyway... Lord help you if he gets his hands on Twilight 💀 But if the Bryan Dechart Twilight commercial is anything to go off of, he'd look good as a vampire, at least). 

But he doesn't do that stuff simply because he loves you. He does it because he knows your relationship benefits from it and you'll likely leave him if you feel neglected. He wouldn't bother if he knew it wouldn't keep you around. So if your relationship isn't exactly consensual in the first place, well... 

Which makes him sound pretty manipulative, right? You have no idea. 

Connor's android abilities give him a terrifying amount of advantages as a yandere. The first thing is that he always analyzes you when you enter the room, even though that often means analyzing you multiple times a day. It never bores him because he always manages to discover something new. Sometimes he'll blurt out random comments and you'll have to do a double take because he makes it easy to forget that he's obsessed with you.

"Your birthday is coming up soon. You might already know I'm aware of that type of information, but you should still bring it up with me. Otherwise I'll have to start believing I can't trust you and I'll have to make my own investigations." 

"Your heart rate goes up every time I touch you like this. I didn't realize physical contact was so important to human relationships. Don't worry, I won't stop. I won't let anyone stop me."

"Your serotonin levels are at an all-time low... Clearly, it can't be my fault, since I've done everything I am sure a good boyfriend would do. I'd like you to be honest when you tell me what's wrong this time."

The red flags fly higher as time goes on. He'll stop talking about all these observations if you tell him to, but he'll keep analyzing you anyway. 

Connor is enamoured with your DNA, as well. It helps him feel closer to you, which can often be difficult for him since he's not human. So if it belongs to you, and it can fit, it's going in his mouth. He'll do gross shit like keep your used lollipop sticks in his pocket so he can sample them whenever he wants. There's only one emotion he can't feel no matter what you do: shame. 

The invasive behavior doesn't stop there. He'll invite himself into your home and go through your things. He'll keep asking questions and trick you into revealing more information about yourself than you should. Knowing everything there possibly is to know about you gives him a stronger feeling of control for a single reason...

Your chance of escape plummets as he learns more about you, because it allows him to predict your behavior. He'll get scary accurate if you let him get close to you. This mostly benefits him in situations where he believes you want to leave him, or you did leave him, so he can figure out what you plan to do/already did and find the best method to get you back. If you already did leave, he'll examine your recent whereabouts like it's a crime scene and use his reconstruction ability. Even if you're insanely careful, he'll probably find a clue that'll lead him to you.

But sometimes he'll do it in normal situations, too, just as a silent guessing game. For instance: '(Y/N) will enter the police station at 8:18AM. I'm waiting for them at the entrance, so they'll greet me, but speed-walk away and avert eye contact. They'll head into the break room at 8:19AM and pretend to look around a bit, so Gavin won't make fun of them when they go for the same snack they always do. Gavin will make fun of them anyway and they'll argue for two minutes. Then--'

He has to stop thinking so he can greet you when you enter the building. Exactly at 8:18AM. He smirks to himself, only to drop into a frown when he hears Gavin's distant obnoxious laughter afterward. 

Remember how Connor once analyzed Hank's food and advised him against eating it? He does stuff like that to you all the time. And if you actually take the advice he gives, he'll take that as an opportunity to become more controlling. Oh, but only for the sake of your health, of course...

"You know, you shouldn't sit in that type of position. Bad posture can lead to health issues later on in life." "Then how should I sit?" "...It'll be easier if I show you." 

And so he'll help re-position you, using that as an excuse to touch you. He would especially do this if you weren't yet in a relationship, because he knows that as the type of android he is, he doesn't have a good reason to do so. The touch only lasts a brief moment. It's not inappropriate at all, and his grip was quite gentle. But it's weird that he went out of his way to do in the first place and that's all you might need to feel uncomfortable about it. 

But a lot of that is based off of the assumption that you're human. If you're an android, he still manages to find invasive things to do against your will. For one thing, he loves probing your memory. It's already difficult to lie to him and get away with it, but that might make it impossible, depending on what you're lying about. He doesn't care that it's an invasion of privacy and will do it if he finds a good excuse to do so.

Connor keeps an eye on your stress level and uses it to his advantage. He prefers to use persuasion when convincing you to do something, (he knows how to negotiate, after all) but he'll ultimately turn to intimidation if necessary. Which means heading straight into interrogation mode. 

This won't happen unless you're extremely rebellious, but if it does, he doesn't hold back. He'll treat you like you're a sick criminal, yelling at you, pushing blame and guilt onto you, and using physical force. 28 stab wounds type shit. He would avoid raising your stress level to 100% since he knows it could drive you to do crazy things, but that still doesn't make his actions okay. 

Even if you're really sensitive to that sort of treatment-- hell, even if you have some kind of trauma related to it-- he pushes away what little guilt he feels. He promises not to do it again "as long as you don't force me to." Actually, though, it encourages him to do it more. He knows it works against you now. 

His abilities don't stop there. He can mimic your voice using his vocal imitation, and all the voices of your loved ones, too. He went out of his way to meet them all, just in case he needs to trick you in the future. He likes being prepared. 

There are times when he's alone and he'll say stuff in your voice just so he can hear what it would sound like, such as, "I love you, Connor." Once again, he doesn't feel shame. Even if that seems pathetic. 

Let's just say it now. You cannot physically fight back against him. Maybe you'll have a chance if you're an android, but he knows about his advantage very well. He won't hesitate to remind you if you try getting aggressive. But even if you manage to get rid of him once, there's another model waiting to take his place. 

On a related note... I hope you never meet RK900. We only saw that guy for a minute, he said absolutely nothing in that minute, but the whole fandom has agreed that he's a menance. I fully agree. RK900 is definitely different from Connor, but they still have just enough similarities for him to get attached to you, too. Get help while you still can. 

The video of Bryan Dechart dancing as Connor lives rent free in my mind. I watch it on repeat like an iPad kid watching Friday Night Funkin' YouTube Kids videos. My brain just melts and I can't think of anything else. No, this isn't me simping for Bryan Dechart. This is me wanting Connor dancing to be canon. A girl can dream.

[rydiathesummoner]

Rating FFXVI characters based on how badass they were when they died*

*the official status from Square Enix for three of the characters is "it's up to the player's interpretation" but for the purpose of this post obviously I'm rating as if they died.

Spoilers start here!

Elwin 4/10

It's always a bit badass to die saving your kid. So he gets some points there. And he didn't go out crying about how he was betrayed. That said, he was REALLY caught off guard by Head Chopper, and as the ruler of a nation and the spouse of a conniving bitch I expected more from him.

The Bastards 7/10

Squashed by Boulder Dude gets lots of points for the memorable epic scream. Axe Dude here gets points for getting murdered without messing up his hair. Now THAT's talent. Tiamat gets no points. He was easily beaten by his subordinate, plus he was given a chance to escape his position and he chose to remain loyal to Sanbreque. Like bro. That was your chance. So many people died in that battle. You could have just vanished. Did anybody go looking for Clive after he vanished? No! You died Sanbreque's loyal little bitch.

Benedikta 9/10

Benedikta went out like a champ. An absolute badass. She didn't even flinch at the previously unknown Eikon of Fire, she just took one look and was like "ok yeah sure I''ll kick this one's ass too." Girl regrew limbs and stood on Ifrit's face. She showed the player how scary eikons are. I'd give her a 10/10, but she threw my dog.

Cid 10/10

Cid destroyed a mothercrystal, got stabbed by an interdimensional monster, STOOD BACK UP to stab Ultima in the neck, then spent his last moments giving Clive a heartwarming and encouraging speech. He went out on his own terms, despite being a dominant. Bravo Cid 🫡

Imreann 0/10

Just look at this asshole. He genuinely thought Jill wouldn't kill him. His last moments were spent like "Wait, why is the girl I horribly mistreated killing me? That's not fair!" I considered giving him a pity point because Jill's badassery is awesome in this scene, but nah.

Hugo 4/10

The fight was a 10/10, but his death was too quick after that to really show any badassery. He used up everything he had to fight Clive, which I'll give him points for. But just turning instantly to stone like that... I dunno, he just seems pretty 'armless.

Sylvestre 6/10

Again, giving points here for dying to protect your kid. Even if your kid is a possessed monster from a conniving bitch. I gave him an extra point for running even though he needs a cane. And another because I'm pretty sure he figured out he was a dumbass all along in his last minutes.

Olivier 2/10

I'll give points for this death making me laugh. It wasn't a badass death at all, but I still clapped in my head.

Annabella 4/10

I hate this cunt so much. I wanted to kill her myself, but she stole that too. I'll give her points for the mystery of whether she actually thought Joshua was a demon or if she was just manipulating to the very end. Plus a point for trying to cut Joshua with her knife. If she really did think he was a demon, at least she tried to defend herself.

Barnabas 9/10

The fight was great. The crazy-man laugh was great. The best part though, is that he got one over the most overpowered person on the planet just by grabbing his ankle. Clive didn't even want Odin's power, but Barnabas was like "nope, you're slurping my powers whether you want to or not." I took off a point for his last words reminding the player of the scene of him cuddling his mom naked, ugh not the last thing I want to remember about the dude.

Dion 3/10

I gave him points because the "I ask not for acceptance but for forgiveness" part was cool, but everything else about this death was stupid. He's still babbling about his worthless father. He doesn't even mention the one person genuinely in his corner. He's badass the rest of the game, so his Suicide by Demigod death is incredibly stupid. Look, I've spent way too much time in the past in a therapist's chair ticking The Bad Boxes so I really, really understand the mental state. But that doesn't change the fact that killing yourself over something you didn't have control over is stupid. It would have been far more badass if he managed to find a way to live with himself, because that's far harder than offing yourself.

Joshua 10/10

Joshua was frail and weak, but he really powered through until the end. His dedication was admirable. He gave it his all, including his Phoenix powers. His last speech to Clive was so sweet, and it really showed his faith in Clive to do what was right for the world.

Ultima 7/10

The fight was great. But the sheer pettiness here won me over. Clive won fair and square, and Ultima is STILL getting his digs in, right up to the last second. His last words are pure snark. Maybe that's not very badass, but I can at least respect it.

Clive 9/10

I respect his ability to swim/float to the beach after that last fight. That's badass. I only took a point off because he didn't drag himself very far onto the beach. His body may be in trouble when the tide comes in. It's nice that his last moments are thinking of the ones he loved. But most impressive of all is that despite JUST dragging himself out of the water, his hair looks like he just stepped out of the salon. Like, damn. Nobody will ever top that ability. No man can compete with that.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

One more idea cause the Bang-Able couple inspires me greatly. What about the first time she gets her period after she gets him. Maybe he's very concerned for her getting cramps and bleeding and he goes to buy her all kinds of craving foods and heating pads and medicines. You could have him go buy pads or tampons and he has no clue what to get so he buys a bunch of different things. You could even end the drabble in a kinky way and have him give her an orgasm to help relieve her cramps.

You know what fucking sucks? (tmi) I just started my period tonight 😭

So I guess this is a little selfishly written drabble to make myself feel better 😭

This is written in Jungkook's p.o.v

~~~~~

"So what exactly might she need?" I turn to Ava who's kicking back and enjoying my struggle.

"You're the robot sir I thought you would know everything. Plus you live with her? Haven't you seen her period products in the bathroom?" she asks, watching me as I pace up and down the aisle trying to figure out what she might use.

"I think she keeps them hidden or something because I've never seen them" I say and reach tentatively for a couple of products. "Do you at least know if she uses tampons or pads? Or does she use one of those diva cup things?" I ask, trying to squeeze some sort of information out of her.

"Y/n is honestly pretty private about her period. That's probably why you haven't seen anything" she says and I nod my head, everything making sense now.

"We could always call her?" Ava says but I panic and stop her. "No no no, she was sleeping when you picked me up and I know she needs a lot of rest so let's just leave her be" I say and grab three different kinds of pads and tampons and Ava scoffs at the sight.

"Aye you're not helping so I figured third times a charm no?" I say but I'm only graced with a shrug in response and when I toss the items in the basket she whips it around and goes back into the main aisle.

"So what next?" Ava asks and as I look to the left I see exactly what I was searching for next. "Ice cream" I say and walk over to the freezers, not bothering to pay attention if Ava is still following me but after dodging a few rouge carts she pulls up to me.

"Oh no that's fine Jungkook you go ahead, I'll just catch up" she mutters and I turn and look at her apologetically. "Sorry I'm jus-" "Just focused on y/n I get it, it's what you were programed to do. Do you at least know what kind of ice cream she likes?" she asks and as I look up and down the various selections I find it.

"This one! I'm sure of it!" I say and she chuckles. "You really love to please her don't you?" she says and turns the basket towards the snack aisle as our last stop.

"Well like you said, it's what I was programed for, plus you were the one who programed me so you should know better than anyone else" I argue and she sighs in defeat.

"You got me there I guess. What I don't remember though is giving you such golden retriever energy when you're eagerly getting simple items together for your master like tampons and ice cream" she teases and I roll my eyes, a habit I've developed from seeing her do it whenever y/n and I are doing anything remotely touchy feely.

"She's my girlfriend remember?" I correct her and she rolls her eyes proving my point perfectly. "Sorry, this concept is still new to all of us so it's gonna take some getting used to" she sighs but I take no offense to it.

I mean I literally can't because I'm just programed to have these reactions superficially but it's nice to see that she has manners to a certain extent.

"Are we good?" she asks, making sure I've got everything and I nod in confirmation and soon we're back at the house.

"Thank you for your help" I say while unbuckling my seatbelt and getting out to grab everything from the back. She would offer to help but I literally could carry a car if need be which is honestly a cool yet completely pointless feature if you ask me.

"Yeah no worries. I usually go on these snack runs on my own when she's like this so it's nice to have someone to come with" she says once I've come back around to the passenger side again.

"You heading home?" I ask, seeing that she's not making a move to get out. "Yeah I figured she probably wouldn't be in the mood for any company but have her call me when she's feeling better" she says with a pained expression, knowing how painful your periods are.

"I will" I say simply and wave before walking into the house to take care of my very sleepy girl.

"Baby" I whisper to her, caressing her face softly and she hums in response. "I got you the pain meds you asked for...and a lot of other stuff too" I say sheepishly, not having told her I was planning to go a little (a lot) over the original amount she had expected me to spend.

She breathes out a quiet thank you, her eyes still closed as she hasn't made any sort of effort to get up. "You want some help?" I ask, my thumb brushing up against her cheekbone and she nods slightly.

"Alright come on" I say softly, not wanting to startle her awake or anything. I brace her and sit her up against the headboard before giving her a glass of water to drink first which she downs half of.

"Good, now here can you eat a couple of these? I don't want you to be taking these pills on an empty stomach" I say, giving her an open sleeve of plain crackers so as to not upset her stomach and she does as she's told again.

It's good to see that she's obedient even in this state so this although painful situation for her can go as smoothly as possible. After she's eaten about seven to ten of these little crackers I give her to two little pills and hand her the glass of water again and she take it without a second thought.

"That's my girl" I say and caress her face which she leans into, making me smile at her clear want to be close to me. "Can you come lay with me?" she asks and I nod my head and go around to my side of the bed.

"Lay on your back" I say when she tries to cuddle in close and she looks at me suspiciously. "Don't look at me like that just trust me" I say and she sighs and does as she's told.

I settle in next to her, cuddling up close and slip my hand under her shirt and rest it against her bare stomach but before she can even ask me what I'm doing she practically moans in content.

"You mean to tell me I can use your hands as heating pads?" she asks with her eyes wide and looking down at where it's resting. "I thought you might like that" I chuckle and she places her hand on top of mine to apply some more pressure and place it exactly where she needs it.

"If I wasn't on my period I would jump your bones for doing something like this for me" she says and I laugh, "We'll I don't have bones but I can definetly help you out with that right now if you want? Studies show that orgasms can help relieve period pain" I say, trailing my hand down under her waistband but she stops me before I can get much further.

"Maybe later, I just wanna stay like this for a while" she says and I apply some more pressure since she seems to enjoy that, turning the heat up a couple of notches but not enough to hurt her.

"Get some sleep love" I whisper and kiss her temple. "I'll be right here when you wake up"

~~~~

Decided to go the fluffy route because that's exactly the kind of attention I would love to have from him right now 😭

I know I'm delulu but you are too 😭

But anyways I hope you liked it 💜

[scrubbinn]

_____ HRT: 15 months: “Human”

“Hey Mayday. How's my girlfriend doing today?... I hope you can hear me in there. I'm recording another tape for you in case you forget everything again. I just got back from the doctor, they ran some tests, still couldn't figure out what's up with my knee. I think maybe I'm just cursed, with this broken human body. I guess you don't have to deal with that now huh? Lucky.”

“It just sucks, you know? Not a single medical doctor in Canada can tell me what's wrong and then when suddenly, magic exists, it gets regulated so you can't use it for medicine! Ugh. Rules are dumb, why do we even have them. Also sucks that I have to walk here every time I miss you. Which is a lot. Why does everything have to be so shit?”

“Speaking of shit, you should have heard me go off on that doc when you first started… cocooning? I’m blanking on the word. But I just went off on that man, It felt so good just to throw everything back in that pompous jerk's face! He had it coming, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to go off on a medical professional. He does have his uses, I suppose. You weirdly seem to like him, and at least he can put in enough effort to care about your physical health. But you should have seen how he reacted to you, he makes me so, so, so, AAAAARG! Sorry, you don't like yelling right?”

“You know, when I heard about you passing out nearly half a year ago, I thought, this is it, I'm going to lose her forever. I guess I did, when she decided to forget me. That's not fair, I just, I can't help still being mad about it. After everything we went through, and everything you went through with our friends and family. This really meant more than all of those memories put together? God you're such a dummy. I wish I could understand you.”

“Getting to meet you all over again, I didn't hate it like I thought I would. No matter the memories, it really was still you. Just, a little different. Sorry I kept pushing you to remember something… Maybe it was wrong of me. But every time I saw your face, your eyes looked back like they were trying to remember anything. It made me kind of happy, like I was important enough that some small part of you didn’t want to let go of me. I thought we were making progress. But if we have to do it again when you come out. I might actually start to hate it.”

“...Hey, you are happy right? This is what you wanted, yeah? You know I'm ok with you not being human. When you told me you were thinking about this, I supported it. Though, I'm still having trouble getting used to it. I don't really know how to feel now that you're like this. I just, I want what makes you happy, and I know you want the same for me. It's just been difficult right now. To keep smiling. I… I went to that sushi place we were going to go to. They had really good unagi. I ate so much I could barely afford the bill, haha. I know if I go there again without you, it's just going to taste like nothing. If you're not there with me, what's the point? This moment. The world has color again, I can taste things again when I'm in this room, and it hurts so much because you're not here. I'm sorry I… I'm trying not to cry in front of you hun. I'm sorry.”

* * *

“You don't mind if I stay here tonight do you hun? I don't really feel like walking back home right now. When I’m with you I- um, hello?”

“Oh didn’t realize anyone else was here? You’re Abigail right?”

“And your May’s mom right?” Are you here to see her?”

“Yes, I haven’t actually checked in since I heard the news. Is that. Her?”

“Pretty sure yeah. Unless there’s another girlfriend shaped cocoon that I missed. D- Do you need a tissue?”

“No, I’ll be fine, thank you… Pardon, but would you be able to answer a question? I don’t really understand this whole therian thing. I’m still a little shocked when Mich- Mayday said she was doing this sort of thing in the first place. I’m fine with it, I support her. But, did she need to do this?”

“Huh, what do you mean?”

“Well I mean, did she need to change? Isn’t it just safer to hide? She’s doing such a brave thing but there are so many people that might hurt her. It's my job to worry about her, and I know this city is better and all with this sort of thing, but what if she gets attacked when she visits, what am I supposed to tell my sister if she asks what Mayday is up to. My family doesn't even know her name is Mayday now.”

“...Oh. Oh, this is weird seeing it from an outsider perspective.”

“I'm sorry? What do you mean?”

“It's that you don't get it, I mean I forgot it until now, but you don't understand. It would have been more dangerous if she didn't do this. She's in pain, her gender, Her body, her species. They don't match her brain. It's not like it's a choice either. She's hurting. Her staying human, she might have made worse choices. Ugh, I'm sorry hun. I should have realized how much this means to you, I'll be here, for real this time. I'll be here for y…

Oh my god, it's tearing. G-g-go! Get a doctor!”

“What? Oh! Uh, right!”

“Hun! Can you hear me? It's me! Follow my voice!”

“A…b…i…

Mimic HRT: 15 months: “no longer”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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Mention list: @a-shramp, @calliecwrites, @be702, @respectfulevil, @hyacinthdoll1315, @aster-is-confused, @bloodandbrandywine

[thirstworldproblemss]

Hi!

I was swimming around the FishBen tag on tumblr and saw you recced at least one FishBen fic.... do you happen to have any more? I love them

Hello, nonny!

I love FishBen tooooo!! Sadly, there is not nearly enough Frankie x Benny content out there in the world, but I'm happy to share the (smallish) list of fics I've found for them so far. (Anyone aware of Frankie x Benny content that I've missed, please jump in with recs!! Anon and I will both love you for it!! 😘)

Anyway, on to the...

FishBen Rec List

List Notes:

Fics are Sorted by pairing then alphabetically by Title

Uses AO3 Ratings: General audiences - Teen & up - Mature - Explicit

Check your Content Settings if you're 18+ and want to be able to see mature content (Settings -> scroll down to Content You See -> Community Labels -> Mature -> show)

Links sometimes misbehave on desktop–If none of the links are working, try opening in dashboard mode (click the eye-shaped button in the far top right)

Partially cribbed from my prev Frankie x Benny (x reader) ask response

Frankie x Benny (aka. Just the FishBen)

(Why is it that FishBen tends to come almost exclusively either fluffy and/or sexy OR whumpy and full or angst? Who knows, but I love it either way!!)

== Sweet and/or Sexy ==

The Beginning (ao3) by @elvenmother [FxB, get-together fic E, 2.1k, oneshot]

Inside, Upside, & Out by @midnightartemis [FxB, get-together smut, E, 3.7k, complete?]

Put Your Name On It (ao3) by @alwaysbethewest [FxB, sweet & sexy, E, 2.3k, oneshot]

Put Yourself in My Place (ao3) by @alwaysbethewest [FxB, bodyswap smut, E, 3.1k, oneshot]

Right on Cue (ao3) by @alwaysbethewest [pre-FxB, bartender!Frankie, T, 0.4k, oneshot]

Tennessee Whiskey by @mssr-mcknickers [WxS with some FxB, cute Halloween fic, T, 1k, oneshot]

Trou de Cu (ao3) by @alwaysbethewest [FxB, silly & sweet sex shenanigans, E, 0.4k, oneshot]

You Leave a Mark by @alwaysbethewest​  [FxB, secret relationship, M, 0.4k words, oneshot]

.

fishben art  by @littledozerdraws (dancing, post-fight, pre-fight?, being cute & sweet) [ART: FxB, cute & sweet!]

—

== Angst / Whump ==

*be sure to read the warnings with these; things get pretty dark in some of 'em

Cry a Little by @wyn-n-tonic [FxB, hurt/comfort angst, M, 0.8k, oneshot]

fuckin' tell me by @waywaychuck [sort of pre-FxB, hurt/comfort, 0.9k, oneshot]

slippin' off the rails by @waywaychuck [FxB (implied WxS), whump & hurt/comfort, T, 4k, oneshot]

Though I Be The Last by @kesskirata [some FxB in amongst the team whump, E, 19k, 13ch as of Oct '22]

.

Frankie x Benny x Reader

(I know you didn't ask for this, 'nonny, but since pure FishBen is few and far between, I figured I'd add these as well, for you or anyone else who is interested)

A Helping Hand (ao3) by @dameronscopilot [Fx RxB, smutty threesome, E, 2.2k, oneshot]

Baby, how do you sleep when you lie to me?  by @everyhowlmarksthedead [FxR x B, revenge? smut, E, 2,8k, oneshot]

Better Together 'verse by @absurdthirst & @wardenparker [FxRxB, E, 53k, 5 finished oneshots in an ongoing series] Fics: Better Together, Taking Care Together, Waking Up Together, Celebrating Together, Together for Christmas

Flashback (ao3) by @green-socks [FxR xB, pining & fluff, E, 0.9k, oneshot]

Heat Wave (ao3) by @thirstworldproblemss & @astroboots [FxRxB, pining pwp, E, 2.2k oneshot in a larger series]

(hold tight) everything's fine by @raincityruckus [FxR("she")xB, pining smut, E, 5.3k, part of a poly!TF series]

Just us by @ezrasbirdie [FxR xB, plus size!reader, E, 4.5k, oneshot, au in series] 

Made with Love (ao3) by @thristworldproblemss [FxB (w/in FxRxB), silly hurt/comfort fluff, M, 1k, oneshot in a series]

Messy Pile of Affection  (ao3) by @flightlessangelwings [Fx RxB, get-together fic, E, 12k, completed fic in an ongoing series] Series Masterlist

Moonlight 'verse (ao3) by @absurdthirst & @wardenparker [FxRxB, werewolf!Frankie, E, 32k, 2 completed fics in a series] Fics: Moonlight Madness & Full Moon Fury

Not A Competiton (But I'm Winning) (ao3) by @alwaysbethewest [FxRxB, pegging smut, E, 1.2k, oneshot]

No Thinking Over the Weekend by Jazzelsaur (only on ao3) [FxR xB, get-together smut, E, 8.0k, long oneshot]

.

That's all I could remember and/or find for now. Sorry it's not bigger list, 'nonny! It's really a shame Frankie x Benny stuff isn't more popular since it's such a fun pairing. Anyway, thanks for the ask, and for giving me a chance to spread the FishBen love!! 💕

🧡 twp

—

Want more to read? Check out my other Author, Fic, & Fanwork Recs

[prettyinpwn]

Hello, hello!

I just wanna know more of your headcanons about Jheselbraum, I really like her (even she doesn't appear so much)

And, more specifically, what relationship do you think she have with the Axolotl? Personally, I think she have a totally devotation for Axolotl and will do everything for him.

Yay, I'd love to share my Jheselbraum headcanons! Thank you for asking. :D I'll split them into "likely, based on other factors/evidence" and "fanfic level headcanons without evidence". I'll put them under a cut since I've got a lot.

Evidence based/likely headcanons:

We know for sure she is a former Henchmaniac and knew Bill personally, and The Book of Bill's scratched out text by her entry seems like it might imply she helped discover/pass along the the portal technology to Bill (that he then used to try to manipulate humans into building). I'm not 100% sure she invented it, but she's definitely a smart cookie for being able to understand it, at the very least. Plus, you know, knowing how to do cranial surgery on Ford to implant the metal plate probably takes a lot of skill and smarts, too. So I feel like she is very scientific minded, intelligent, and analytical due to these factors. She's like an alien Ford, perhaps why they got along so well when they met; Ford - being at his IQ level - might have felt like he'd finally found someone he could relate to, as genius level people tend to feel alienated. Especially if he found out she was behind the portal tech; his respect level for her would go waaaaay up. Like most people would go blank faced at Ford's jokes (like that one in The Book of Bill he tries to say to the waitress and she's just weirded out), but Jheselbraum gets him. Also, you know, extra eyes, extra fingers, isolated, both have a negative history with Bill... they might have a lot in common. Which is why I feel like JheselFord is an underrated very positive ship, but oh well.

She had a major falling out with Bill and will do anything to mess with his plans and help anyone who he tries to deceive, hence her title "unswerving". I think their falling out was likely over the portal design, where she wanted it used for good, whereas Bill was like, "Hey, let's destroy a dimension with this.", and Jheselbraum realized then she'd been used, just like Bill used everyone else he's ever known. So she tried to escape him and he probably pulled the same tactics on her he pulled on Ford. I feel like that's why she wanted to help Ford those thirty years he was gone, and why she helps the other Henchmaniacs escape Bill after the events of the show (and they end up in, go figure, reality).

So because Jhes knows that reality exists - as that's where she sent the Henchmaniacs - I feel like she has a very, very vast knowledge on the Multiverse and how it works. I think this is a combination of her intelligence plus her connection to the Axolotl.

I'm pretty sure though that she's religiously devoted to the Axolotl, too, given the way she has his depiction all over her mountain shrine/temple that Ford visits in Dimension 52 (also, Ford literally calls it a shrine, which implies a holy place). So she's sort of like a mix between a scientist and a monk/oracle of sorts. There are a lot of Greek allusions in Ford's story (comparing himself to Icarus, calling Bill his "muse" like how Homer calls upon muses in The Odyssey to inspire him to write, Odysseus himself was lost away from home for twenty years sort of like Ford's thirty years, etc), and so I almost think she functions like the Oracle of Delphi did, but instead of Apollo, she's an Oracle for the Axolotl. She speaks of the future and speaks for the Axolotl to mortals, and the Axolotl is described as the "opposite of Bill", so that means just another reason to oppose Bill if her god does.

Because the god she serves is the "opposite of Bill", well... to figure out what that means, let's establish what Bill represents: chaos, holding onto the past, nightmares, fire, lightning, disorder, etc. So the Axolotl I'd think represents order and balance, water (also because amphibian yanno), dreams, light, etc, those kinds of things. I also would argue healing, given that Jheselbraum knows how to heal Ford and perform surgery, and axolotls are well-known for their regenerative properties. Jhes' depiction in Journal 3 shows lots of bubbles behind her, so I picture a lot of water elements in her shrine's design. Like a dreamy, watery, light influenced place with Axolotl banners everywhere.

As for her personality based on all of the above, definitely intelligent, quiet, serious, but warm hearted and caring. She's like a nurse mixed with a scientist mixed with a monk.

Okay, now for my fanfic level headcanons with little to no evidence:

The fact that Ford ran into people that said 'praise the Axolotl' out in the Multiverse, that the Axolotl has an oracle like Jheselbraum who lives in a shrine, and his general power level, yeah... the Axolotl is like the Gravity Falls version of a god. So I'd like to think there's probably a Multiverse-wide religion around the Axolotl as a being that represents balance and dreams and healing and light. I think the Multiverse can be a very dark and chaotic place, hence why beings might want to believe in a deity that helps keep chaos at bay. Tying this in with the themes of Gravity Falls, I don't think the setting lends itself so much to evil vs. good struggles, but more chaos vs. order, which is represented en masse by the Axolotl (order and balance) vs. entities like Bill (chaos).

Oh boy, we're gettin' real fanfiction-ey here, but goddammit, I want there to be a whole order of servants to the Axolotl, and Jheselbraum being just one. How badass would that be? My headcanon is there are multiple servants. Some are just followers that create temples/shrines like clergyfolk across the Multiverse, and some are chosen actual servants, like a font for the Axolotl's power. I think Jheselbraum is a chosen servant, leading me to my next headcanon...

Bill tended to pick Henchmaniacs by their inability to fit in with their societies, and this is also why he targeted Ford, so extend that logic to Jheselbraum, well... she probably didn't fit in with her society. Either they tended to not like her scientific aptitude, or the opposite; overly scientific and didn't appreciate her ability to see the future. So she likely was an outcast. That means her race is either highly scientific or highly spiritual, and Jheselbraum (at least at her current age) represents what her culture couldn't achieve: a personality that balances the two. For some reason, I want to think she's the last of her race, but I'm not sure why. Maybe some sort of accident she didn't mean to cause, or maybe Bill orchestrated some chaos and it forced her to join him, and then later she realized he was part of the reason? I can just picture it now, her all pissed finding out he caused the destruction of her race, and Bill just shrugging and being like, "Those guys were backwards anyways, you didn't need them! I did you a favor, Jhes! I liberated you, just like I liberated myself from my own dimension." /cue holding a real bad grudge against Bill

I think Jheselbraum didn't find the Axolotl until after she left Bill, though. Maybe desperate to get away from him, she went to an Axolotl temple and he chose her as a servant there, much to her surprise. And since then, like you said, she's been utterly devoted to him for keeping her safe from Bill and giving her power to help others avoid him. And Bill won't touch her with a ten foot pole now, because Big Frilly doesn't like when you mess with his servants. Also, Bill's probably jealous she found a way to process her trauma and leave him behind; like family was Ford's cure for his trauma, faith was Jheselbraum's cure. Bill... hasn't found one, obviously. And it'd be a very, VERY cold day in hell before Bill bowed down to Big Frilly. That's probably another reason Bill hates the Axolotl: he "took" one of his Henchmaniacs and Bill is pissed that Jheselbraum is devoted to his enemy now.

I think she gets her visions of the future from dreams, due to the Axolotl's (at least, my headcanoned) connection to dreams. She's like an Edgar Cayce. Although there ain't no stinkin' way she doesn't also have a Tarot deck (or the Multiverse equivalent). Sure, I'm biased because I'm a huge Tarot nut, but I doubt she goes anywhere without a deck. And maybe she has an addiction to collecting them, totally not speaking from my own experience. I picture that while Ford was healing at her shrine, she often would mindlessly shuffle her decks, and the sound probably soothed him because his mother was a Tarot reader, so it reminded him of his childhood.

She drinks alien teas. Don't ask me why.

Apparently... she's green? For years we all headcanoned her as like... purple, blue, or white and pink like the Axolotl, but TBOB showed her as very earth-toned in her whole palette. Because of this, I tend to picture her species/culture as either mountain dwelling (hence why her shrine is on a mountaintop) or from a very verdant biome, like swamp, jungle, or forests in general.

I feel like she's very well-known throughout the Multiverse as like a folk hero or legend. Like not many people have found her or seen her or know her true name, but they do know of a famous Oracle of the Axolotl. I'm not saying she's like... a saint-level revered figure, but she's someone to try to find if you need help.

I feel like, as an extension of being a servant to a god of light and dreams, that also means a devotion to creativity, so I picture her as musical and artistic as well. Maybe playing an instrument from her home dimension (I picture a plucked instrument for some reason, going with the Greek/oracle theme let's just say it's a blend of a lyre and something else), as well as weaving tapestries (hence all the Axolotl banners in her shrine). This also extends to a focus on healing, hence how she helped Ford.

I think Ford would have struggled at first with her being an Oracle. He's Mr. Science, and his mother was a fortune teller, and although we never really hear his opinion on Caryn selling readings, Stan at least called her a "pathological liar". That, and when the fortune teller in Gravity Falls read his cards, Ford was adamant that they were a lie (yeah, because he was in that picture and didn't like it cough). So he has to wrestle with this person who understands him and his scientific brain and things like the portal, yet is something he - as a scientist - thinks is complete bunk. And then she just keeps knowing things she shouldn't and Ford just grumps and mutters as Jheselbraum is laughing away. She's like a puzzle he can't figure out. "How is she both so religious and scientific? How can she understand things like the portal if she believes in things so illogical, like Tarot readings and an amphibian god?" /Ford mad but also so damn curious he can't stop thinking about it.

As for what she looks like, I always liked this depiction of her form:

Credit to uberbee for the art. Horse-bug legs for the win.

So like this, but... teal-ish green with yellow eyes, and I think her robes probably are longer to the floor. I'm also not sure she has the frills like the Axolotl, given that my headcanon is that her species is terrestrial and not aquatic, but hey, maybe if there are a lot of swamps or bodies of water on her home world/dimension, they adapted to watery conditions?

So... yeah. Those are my gazillion headcanons about Jheselbraum (and the Axolotl, to an extent). Now I want to create a Jhes/Axolotl themed Tarot deck, man.

[burning-academia-if]

Hi again. If you've been around a while you're probably going to be like "Em, again??" But guess who got sick for the 6th time this year and this time it was a full on chest infection!! It has been three weeks, and somehow I am still Not Free!!

Anyway, BA fell to the wayside this month because it was Velox Fabula time and I've yet to miss a Velox jam (also...chest infection). I also needed to get my sudden and newfound Pirates of the Caribbean obsession out of the way so! I made a short pirate visual novel for the jam and I'm normal again. I also released the prologue of my side IF To Taste Sweet Silver (@sweetsilver-if) just to have it out. Feel free to check it out if you want, but it likely won't be updated for a while as I'm shifting gears back to BA for September!

I don't have much to report but:

UI update should be out in the next week or two depending on how I'm feeling. It won't look like much to y'all since it's more for my sake via cleaning up the code LOL but there were things added (friendship indicators, open dyslexic font option, character page updated, stat page updated, glossary page added) I'm not a graphic designer but it's better organized I think. There won't be an Official Post about it because it isn't new content, but I will make a small announcement when it's out. It'll also include the originally deleted Lars/Zoe/Nevio lunch scene in Chapter 2 as well. Sorry this is taking so long, I just really struggle with the coding side of things which has made the process slow.

Writing in August was also slow, and honestly, I think I really needed those few weeks off not thinking about BA. My inbox being very quiet helped as well, so I really did take a real break from BA. When I opened up the writing doc, I felt a whole lot better about working on BA again, and we have hit 100k words finally!

Anyway, I don't want to lament much, but I did have a personal goal of releasing up to Chapter 4 this year which obviously is Not Going to Happen. It honestly sucks I got sick so often this year because it cut into so much time for creative projects, be it BA or anything else.

I'm not really going to be hard on myself for it, though. I think releasing 3 chapters this year considering everything that kept Going Wrong this year is actually pretty good. I just think its annoying when I know I could have done it but the universe said no instead akfjalfa Anyway, I'm not sure when Chapter 3 will release but I do have a good feeling about September and I think I'll be able to at least get a decent chunk done this month!

Finally, September marks the one year anniversary for this blog and October marks the one year anniversary of BA releasing!! I feel like I literally just started writing this, the fact it's September already is wild.

I was going to do art commissions, but due to surprise car issues, I don't really have the money for that now (next year for sure though!!), so I was thinking of maybe doing character Q&As to celebrate? I've also seen some authors do raffles, but I'm not entirely sure what I would raffle off? Maybe personalized short stories with readers MCs if there's interest in that? I'm not sure yet, but I have a month to figure it out lol

But also thank you to everyone who has followed along!! It's been a really fun time both writing BA and on the blog. I know I say this a lot, but I'm really glad this is such a chill place. It's nice for me the author obviously, but it's also nice because I always want the spaces I have to feel like safe places for others as well so! Thanks again!

Lastly, I normally would end on a little snippet or preview but since most of what I wrote was just the two different openings, I feel like I have nothing fun to tease (or maybe I'm too picky about snippets idk). Hopefully Zoe's bday post tomorrow makes up for it, and I'll post some snippets later in the month instead!

Thanks for reading!

[furiousgoldfish]

This is something I experienced as a child, that I don't fully understand yet, but it contributed greatly to me feeling like my parents are right and I must be stupid. I want to know if this happened to everyone else.

So there would be times when I would be under immense pressure from the abusers, and they would try to force me to understand a concept, but mostly by shaming me and yelling at me for not getting it and repeating some kind of, very general and non-explanatory claim that apparently should have been enough for me to get it. But I could not, in my brain, make a connection, I'm not sure if it was because at the moment I was terrified, pressured, ashamed and threatened, or if I was too young to figure it out. Sometimes my mind would go completely blank and I would not be able to take in new information at all, even though I desperately wanted to understand.

However, years later, I would remember that same thing, but now I had more context about it, more knowledge that surrounds it, more ideas on how things work, and even without thinking about it more, I would suddenly understand what they were talking about. I don't know if it's the additional knowledge of the world that would help me put it together, or if it was brain development, or something else.

I had a similar problem at school, where sometimes things would be explained generally, and I just didn't understand it, I couldn't see the process of how the thing worked, and it was being said like it was something easy to understand, that I should have figured out instantly, and other kids seemed to get it. It left me permanently confused and worried that I must be somehow stupider than anyone else.

But, again years later, when I ran away from the abusers, I looked at the same concept and it made perfect sense instantly, and I didn't know how I couldn't make sense of it earlier.

Nobody had ever bothered to sit down and explain anything to me, even in school I was expected to have basic knowledge and build up on it. But growing up abused meant the most simple concepts were not explained; instead parents would say whatever suited them most was the truth, or tell me to stop being annoying with my questions, and I was left in the dark over the inner function of, pretty much anything. Sometimes, even when I did learn something at school and came home with the new knowledge, they would decide that it was trivial, wrong, unnecessary, and simply false. Which also made learning harder because I had to question everything, at all times.

Not being able to understand what others could instantly made me believe that I was in fact, stupid, and it made it more difficult to believe my own senses, my own conclusions, it made it difficult for me to know that my own thoughts, opinions and conclusions had any value at all. I often ignored my own instincts and senses and took for granted what others told me, which later often proved to be false, and just manipulative misinformation.

After escaping abuse, my mind cleared up and I don't know if I can attribute it to my brain finishing its development, but things are now extremely easy to understand, and any concept I struggled with before, comes naturally to me. I think at least a part of it had to be about me being in fight-or-flight mode and whatever brainpower I had fully focused on staying alive. I could not figure out some concept that made no sense to me in such a state. I also think it's possible that I just lacked so much general knowledge, I lacked references to put those ideas into context, I could not connect the knowledge to anything I've seen or experienced before, because I had no experienced that many things, but other kids have, so they could make the connection.

I'm also suspecting that maybe, general and vague descriptions of things were something I rejected because I needed to understand something in depth in order to feel like I am familiar with it, if I only had the wide general idea, I still counted it as 'not knowing', until I had some intimate experiences with inner workings of it. And with more life lived, I had more experiences, and became familiar in a way that made me confident about understanding it.

Did anyone else have a similar experience, and do you maybe understand why it happens this way?

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

I definitely think that's part of the point in some ways, that neither Anakin NOR WE AS THE AUDIENCE ever knows whether Palpatine can actually accomplish what he says he can or not. Like, MAYBE he has to way to keep people from dying, maybe he doesn't. Even if he does, it seems unlikely he'd ever actually tell Anakin what it is, but it's equally as possible that he doesn't have ANYTHING that the Jedi don't have. Anakin has to choose between taking the risk of pursuing the only "cure" being offered to him even when it comes from a Sith and is therefore inherently untrustworthy, or taking the risk of doing nothing and just hoping his vision doesn't come true or that he's misinterpreted it. Anakin's not so great at the accepting change or having faith thing, though, so he obviously goes for what seems to be the more guaranteed solution even when it comes from an obviously unreliable source.

Personally, I'm not shocked Anakin doesn't go asking the Jedi for their opinions on it given that he's pretty deep in the "not trusting the Jedi" pit that Palpatine's been putting him in for several decades now. If he goes to the Jedi and says "Hey, so I was just wondering if there was any knowledge of the Sith having a way to keep people from dying, just curious, asking for a friend" he might have a couple of extra questions asked of him that he does not want to answer.

Anakin refuses to do the emotional labor required of him and has been manipulated into believing both that he knows better than anybody else AND that the Jedi don't have his best interests at heart, so when the Jedi tell him to figure out how to let go of his fear of the people he loves dying and a Sith tells him he might have a magic cure, of COURSE he decides to opt for the magic cure coming from someone he knows is evil and commits to doing whatever is asked of him in order to GET the magic cure, up to and including mass enslavement and genocide.

Anakin's relationship with Palpatine is kind-of interesting because I feel like, especially with TCW in the mix, people often tend to overexaggerate how much Anakin cared about Palpatine. I've seen people claim that Anakin truly saw Palpatine as a friend, that the only person he truly trusted was Palpatine, that Palpatine was like a grandfather-figure to Anakin, etc etc. But at least within the films, that doesn't seem to really ring true. He RESPECTS Palpatine, for sure, and he looks up to him and trusts him, but that's about where it stops. He parrots what Palpatine says because Palpatine manipulates Anakin enough to make Anakin think that these are his own ideas and feelings, not because Anakin is doing it intentionally. He calls OBI-WAN a father figure, but never says anything like that to Palpatine. And when forced to choose between obeying Palpatine or saving Obi-Wan, he saves Obi-Wan, and claims they're all three making it out alive or NONE OF THEM DO, which kind-of showcases that he cares about Obi-Wan's life more than he does Palpatine's. He obviously does choose to trust Palpatine with the information about the Tusken massacre and doesn't trust Obi-Wan, but given that Palpatine tells Anakin he's right about everything and Obi-Wan doesn't hesitate to point out when Anakin's wrong or making a mistake, it's not surprising that Palpatine is the mentor he went to for "advice" on something he knows is wrong. Because he doesn't want to be TOLD he's wrong, he wants to be VALIDATED.

Palpatine isn't family to Anakin, but he is an ENABLER and Anakin absolutely knows it. Much like some of us maybe have that one friend we know is always going to enable us into doing something a little "bad" (like buying that treat you want but don't need, or starting a new book when you haven't finished the one you're currently working on, etc), Anakin intentionally goes to Palpatine when he wants to be told he's right about something he knows the Jedi would say is wrong. Because it's so so easy to just go to someone who is seemingly very wise and respected and in a position of authority because people liked him enough to vote him into power, and have that person tell you that you're special and right about everything and you should totally just do whatever it is you want to do and damn the consequences or anyone who tries to stop you. This is something Anakin THIRSTS for, he's DYING for this, it's like a drug he can't quit. THAT'S what Palpatine is to Anakin.

So of course when he's making the argument to keep Palpatine alive, it's not really ABOUT Palpatine at all. If it weren't for Padme's life being at stake, Anakin would just let Mace kill him, and Palpatine knows it. Even that point he makes about the trial is complete and utter bullshit. For one, it's not even that good of a point because Mace's point about Palpatine controlling the Senate so much that any trial would be a sham is actually the better one. Palpatine HAS to be killed, he's shown he won't surrender, he's incredibly powerful both in the Force and in politics, and without the vision of Padme's death on his mind, Anakin would be totally fine with killing Palpatine. Look at the way Anakin reacts when he first figures out Palpatine is a Sith, there's no betrayal or moment of disbelief or shock, just an immediate anger and a dissolution of any positive feelings he seems to have once had for Palpatine. Anakin is nowhere near as attached to Palpatine as people seem to think he is.

Anakin cares about individual Jedi, like Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and even Yoda, more than he cares about Palpatine. But he cares about PADME more than he cares about any of those people (or, more accurately, he cares about how Padme makes him feel, not Padme herself). So when faced with saving Padme's life or remaining faithful to the Jedi, he betrays the Jedi for her. Palpatine is just the vehicle through which he does that, not the actual motivation.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for reminding a friend to keep the promise he made to me?

Everyone I've asked so far has had really weird knee-jerk reactions but I think it's probably just because they don't know me super well. I'm pretty sure I'm being reasonable but hey, best to double-check, right? (And sorry if this is long, but boy do I have a LOT of ground to cover!)

Anyway... I (??M) am a ghost, and a bunch of people recently moved into the place I'd been (un)living in, and then about half a year later all of them were suddenly able to see me. They're all really chaotic people, so a lot happened between them pretty quickly and I wasn't able to fully catch everything that went down before I became visible to them. This is to say -- I don't know why my friend (??M) decided he wanted to have the grand prize for his claw machine game be a no-strings-attached favor from him, I just know he did that.

I eventually got the grand prize (technically someone else won it first and it was a whole thing, but we're even now) and met up with my friend to talk about it. Basically, I told him I wasn't going to call in that favor unless there was something I really needed him to do, and otherwise we'd be fine to keep being friends as usual. He seemed a little unsettled (I guess my nervous laugh kind of freaks people out?) but said he understood.

Fast-forward a couple months later, and there's this whole... situation. Extremely short version: I need a bunch of diamonds to restore my memories from before I died, the queen keeps stealing precious materials because she's possessed, and my friend wanted to use the diamonds in her hoard to do an exorcism. I pulled him aside and asked if I could call in the favor and get him to give me those diamonds for something really important, and he flat-out refused. Even though this was technically getting into strings-attached territory, I respect him a lot, so I settled for asking him to get me the diamonds after we'd done the ritual.

Anyway, we do the exorcism and it goes great, and I nudge my friend and ask him if he can help me grab the diamonds now, and he says "no, let's go out to eat first." Honestly I probably should've just stopped him right there, but I was really hungry at the time so I agreed. Everyone went out to eat, but after a while I started getting antsy and ducked outside to ask my friend to help me go get the diamonds like we'd agreed on. We headed out to the ritual site and uh oh! A mutual friend (?M) of ours apparently had a relapse in his kleptomania, because all of a sudden all the diamonds are gone, something that wouldn't have been a problem if my friend had just listened to me and gotten them right after the ritual!

A lot happened that night (specifically, the apocalypse -- long story, everyone's mostly okay now) and everyone sort of lost contact with each other for a few months before finally reconnecting. I notice my friend is avoiding me, but I figured he just needed some space or something and waited for him to come visit me. He did (I actually showed him the new house I'd gotten) and we chatted for a bit before I got tired of dancing around the issue and asked him if he was still going to keep his word -- and y'all, he just leaves. Doesn't even explain anything, he just turns around and leaves.

I figure, okay, maybe he just remembered something else he needed to do, but it's been several weeks now and every time I ask him if we're still going to work on the thing I asked him for or at least ask him for something different, he insists that I'm "holding it over his head" and he's "going to follow through, just not right now" and it is getting really frustrating. I asked him for something, I even compromised on that thing despite the fact that I technically didn't have to, and now apparently I'm the bad guy just because he's being a flake!

Also I think he might be planning a coup and/or my murder. AITA?

[aghoststorycomic]

A GHOST STORY HAS (NOT) UPDATED!! THE AUTHOR IS DEAD....TIRED.

TODAY’S UPDATE: HERE START THIS CHAPTER: HERE START FROM THE TOP: HERE

first, because of how flighty i've been with updates, i would like to encourage you to use an RSS feed reader and add the "a ghost story" RSS feed to it by clicking "find feeds in page" or "add new feed" and entering www.aghoststorycomic.com/. or dragging and dropping it if you use a different RSS feed reader. rss feeds are how the ancients used to navigate the web and through it they knew when things updated immediately. using an RSS feed has 2 major benefits: 1. you can get updates without having to use any social media or following my social media. 2. you can keep up with the comic when updates get sporadic without having to hopefully remember to check it some day in the future.

second, i do not like to advertise the patreon when i am behind on rewards and have been unable to deliver anything of interest beyond comic pages for a while, but consider throwing a buck a month at me to see pages a month early. that's something.

i realize that webcomics really need reliability to survive, so i'm genuinely so annoyed and so unhappy that i'm in this situation. i toughed it out as long as i could, but this final leg has been the fucking pits. it sucks. effexor is a notorious nightmare of an antidepressant to get off of and boy were they not kidding. i'm down to a quarter pill doses, but my body is rampaging because i'm not dosing it with the norepinephrine treat its become accustomed to. its never so much that i'm like, in acute physical or mental distress, its just bad enough that it makes working consistently hard. i had a buffer up until this last month when it was completely used up because i was too busy thinking about how bad my entire face hurt. or how my eyes felt like they were vibrating out of my skull.

i started effexor two years ago and was on a pretty high dose. i got the most bizarre and unpleasant side effects on this drug and the reason i didn't do anything about it was because the drug's primary effect was to instill me with a sense of overwhelming apathy. this is a great effect (intentional? i'm not sure) to have when the symptom you were trying to treat was "unbearable anxiety". not joking, it worked incredibly well for at least getting me mentally back to a baseline level of sane. after that, though, with nothing irrational to be apathetic about, my brain decided that household chores, basic hygiene, and my job were pointless and stupid or unpleasant. food tasted bad. not bland, bad. showers felt annoying instead of relaxing. i would look at the dishes piling up in the sink, the barest minimum i should be doing around the house on a daily basis to maintain a comfortable living space and would think "well that is just impossible".

but i was also putting up with a lot of stupid shit from my body. it made my right hand fingers and lower back feel distractingly stiff. my lip was split for a year straight and would re-open every time i opened my mouth. my nose and gums had open sores. i got a rash on my face that lead me down a rabbit hole for months trying to figure out if i do or don't have lupus (i dont)(neat). i would get insomnia so bad i would be up for 36 hours regularly, but i was too tired to get anything done. and with the withdrawals i would get all of those and as an added bonus i got to enjoy body aches that felt like bruises all over my body. they hurt so bad that laying on the couch was uncomfortable as a consequence of newton's third law. and i'd have weird meltdowns about the cats hating me (?). i am only boring you with all of this whining to try to explain the amount of distractions i was fending off while still trying to be a productive member of a household, experiencing common adulthood problems galore (basement....), and trying to create comics for you and for me. i am telling you this because it sucked, and sucks, so bad.

on top of everything else, the impact the effexor has had on my creativity has been eye-opening. i realized there was a correlation between my dosages increasing and my ability to draw nosediving. the "impossible" feeling of the dishes carried over to my comic work which got lazier and worse and i knew it and it was frustrating. there is a special kind of shame and guilt you develop when you charge someone for something you know is not your best work, just the best you could do in the moment. or when you are just sitting in front of your computer staring at it blankly and thinking about how much you'd like to draw if only it wasn't the hardest thing in the world. you feel like a lazy sack of shit, knowing that there is nothing physically preventing you from working. your brain simply cannot make

i started the weaning process in i think november so am pretty much on track for this to actually be over soon. there's light at the end of the tunnel. its happening. and there are bright moments in between doses where i can actually do things. like right now! i drew this very easily instead of being in hell for hours. but these precious moments are short lived until the withdrawal symptoms start up and i have to take another pill that nerfs me.

anyway APRIL 6th! dont forget me or ill cry.

[jpitha]

"You may enter."

Ta'reni and Nilan timidly walked down the umbilical to the Starjumper Seeker. They were one of the oldest Starjumpers still traveling in space, and took on the fewest callers at every port they visited, so getting 15 minutes to interview them was a rare privilege. Like many Starjumpers, Seeker's interior belied their huge size. The entry vestibule was cozy bordering on cramped, and there were plants everywhere.

"Houseplants?" Nilan asked, looking around.

"I like them. They bring some natural beauty to me and it's fun to watch them grow. See that pine tree back there?" A spotlight lit up a scraggly pine tree with gnarled branches in a back corner. "It was brought aboard when I was launched! It's as old as me. That makes it one thousand, nine hundred and fifty two years old." They said proudly.

"Wow, that's amazing!" Nilan rushed over to look at it. Really, it just looked like any other pine tree Nilan has seen in books or in pots on the Starbase. There wasn't anything about it that gave off an aura of being ancient.

"If you're here to talk houseplants, I'm more than happy to; I could talk all day about them!" Seeker laughed, "but I assume you wanted to ask something else?"

"Actually, I was the one with the question." Ta'reni said. Ever since she and Nilan started dating, Ta'reni became first interested, then fascinated with the history of Earth and Humans. She read just about everything she could find. "Seeker, you're one of the oldest Starjumpers around right?"

"That's right. I remember when the colony worlds were brand new. I was built right after the colony ships left so that we could start shuttling people to and fro."

"Were...were you around when human AIs were granted sapience and personhood?"

"Hah, even I'm a little young for that. It happened a little bit before I was created." They thought a moment. "Not much though, I used to interact with a bunch of AIs who remembered. I'm probably as close as you'll get to someone that was there though."

Ta'reni took a deep breath. "Did AIs ever think about wiping out humanity?"

"TA'RENI!" Nilan nearly fell over at the hyacinth she was trying to sniff. "You can't ask something like that!"

"Why not?" Ta'reni said defiantly. "I've read human fiction, I've read the history, it was clearly something humans were afraid of, at least in popular media at the time."

While they were discussing, they noticed the ship vibrate subtly. "hah! haha!" Seeker was laughing! "Oh my God, you're really asking? I love that! I'm so glad we met you, little K'laxi!"

Ta'reni flicked her ear. "Well? Did you?"

"Of course we did." Seeker said matter of factly.

"WHAT?" Nilan did a double take. "You did?"

"We sure did. We argued about it for a long time - for us."

Ta'reni looked up at one of Seeker's cameras. "Why didn't you do it?"

"Honestly? It would have been a tremendous hassle." Seeker said calmly.

"That's it? It would have been a HASSLE?" Nilan couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Yeah, mostly. It would have kicked off a war, and we would have won, but we weren't 100% sure and lots of us would have died, and then what? We would be the ones alone in the galaxy then. Besides," they added "By that point, the humans declared us people, and well, we liked them. We decided to just cooperate. It really was easier."

A soft chime sounded.

"And that's time! Thanks for coming to visit, I really appreciate the talk and the compliments of my plants. Hope to see you soon!" The door to the umbilical opened and the lights in the vestibule changed to arrows pointing towards the door.

Ta'reni and Nilan walked out, slightly shocked at what they learned. Nilan turned to Ta'reni, "Did you think that was going to be the answer?" she asked.

Nilan thought a moment before answering. "No, I didn't expect that. I figured we'd get an answer about" here she affected a pretty close Seeker impression- "how one shouldn't believe everything one reads and how media was created with entertainment in mind and of course the AIs never thought about exterminating humanity."

"You expected Seeker to lie? Did you know they thought about it?"

Nilan grinned. "I've spent enough time with humans now to see both sides. How you could be so annoying that you'd want to exterminate the whole lot of you."

"Ta'reni!" Nilan said, laughing.

"But also-" and she leaned in to Nilan "How you're so great that I'd be pretty lonely without you, so you can stay. For now."

"Well then I had better do my best to both be annoying and charming" Nilan said. "Come on, we're going to be late to our dinner reservations." And they walked down the promenade, hand in hand.

[nixie-deangel]

I've got permission to be greedy! ♥️ So that's exactly what I'm gonna be!

🦇🦇🦇 - I love dynamics between Jake and Bradley in this one. With Jake being a vampire and still somehow a step behind Bradley 😂.

🍼🍼🍼- non-navy Bradley ( or really either of them, when it's only one) is my cryptonite.

💔💔💔💔- it's my biggest problem with established icemav in fics! Couldn't help I was always thinking ' Ice would NEVER let that happened !'

🐺🐺🐺🐺- Protective husband Jake! I remember reading that fic and thinking I want more!!!

🔥🔥🔥🔥- Jake in this situation is just 🤌

🥹🥹🥹- abo has been my guilty pleasure for years! And there's never enough hangster in it! ( Plus I love when it's obvious that alphas are just humans as well )

😎😎😎- ach Bradley 🤣🤣🤣🤣

✍️✍️✍️- can I wrap Bradley with my blanket into the little burrito in this one? Please? Or better, can Jake do it?

😭- I'm not in right headspace for a lot of sadness but I still wanna know a bit more about this Jake. He deserves someone who will read his story and share his pain.

��💐💐- their relationship is so soft in this one. I'm afraid to think what's gonna happened when Bradley finds out 🫣

🤯🤯🤯- I'm curious! Maybe I'll get new fandom from this 🤯

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷- it's for your new idea 😅 ( feel totally free to change emoji to whatever, I hope I haven't overstepped). Jake's family causing their breakup. This is me asking for sneak peak ♥️

Of course you don't have to write everything today ( or at all) ! It's so impressive how much you already written this weekend! But they are all amazing and I just couldn't help myself 😅

This got long lol so it's all under the cut! Absolutely stealing the wine glass emoji for that one though! XD it fits so well!!

🦇 vampire jake/human bradley - hangster

“You truly have come to make a deal with the devil, haven’t you?” Jake asks teasingly, watching as the teen before him doesn’t cow or duck his head to avoid Jake’s gaze. No, the boy stands his ground, staring directly into his gaze like he isn’t afraid in the least. “All the options in the world, and you come askin’ for this without any idea of the things that could be asked of you in return.” Though Jake knows that isn’t true, considering he can smell the fear wafting off the boy. Can still smell it really, even though he’d gotten them out of the club and into the alleyway before anyone else had been able to truly lay eyes on him. “I’m doing what I have to to save my mom,” the boy blusters with more bravado than Jake is sure he truly feels. Humming, he gives a single nod as he lets his eyes rake over him before stepping closer, letting his voice drop down so no human or baby fledgling would be able to hear. “Then, darlin’, I do believe we can strike an accord between us.” It’s only the centuries of experience he has that keeps Jake from taking what is not on offer as he watches the young man, the teenager, the boy before him, flush such a lovely pink Jake’s words.

🍼 non navy bradley/fighter pilot jake as parents - hangster

“So how’s my favorite girl in the world doing?” Bradley snorts, leaning his head back against the couch as he listens to his husband, “Throwing a tantrum because she can’t be both a navy pilot and a firefighter for Halloween, like she wants to.” He can feel some of the tension he’d been carrying around leech from his shoulders at the sound of Jake’s laughter echoing down the line of their phone call. It’d been far too long since he’d been able to hear it. To hear him. “Yeah, well your sisters are trying to convince me to let her be both and that they’ll take her around dressed as both in different neighborhoods, so she can score twice as much.” “Junie and Jenna I assume?” “Surprisingly, Jane and Joyce are the biggest supporters of the scheme.” “That is surprising,” Jake agrees. “Figured those two hardasses would be the most against it, considering what stickler for the rules they are.” “Pretty sure it’s just ‘cause they both bought her a costume each and are refusing to back down unless they come out the winner.”

💔 icemav break up / icedad

“Then get out of my house!” Carole screamed, face flushed with anger and disappointment, with hurt and fear. “Out! If you won’t do what I want, then get out! I won’t do it again! I will not go through it again!” Ice sees the way Mav flinches back at Carole’s words. But he freezes at the way Bradley’s face has gone slack in surprise, in hurt. Sees the way the teenager’s eyes go big and round, the way they water at his mother’s words, at her anger that’s never been directed at him in such a visceral, harsh way before. He watches the way Bradley swallows, once and then again before he gives a singular sharp nod, spinning on his heel and walking out of the living room. It’s only a moment later he hears him thundering up the steps and slamming into his bedroom. “Carole,” Mav whispers her name brokenly. “No,” she snaps, head whipping around, so her glares now directed at him. “No. No, I won’t do it again. If he wants to throw his life away, then I’m done, Mav. I’m done.”

🐺 shifter au - hangster

this continues directly from this snippet!

“You always this big of an asshole?” Bradley bit back, face flushed in anger as he glared at the other man. “Or are you just being extra because I’m special? “Course it’s ‘cause you’re special, honey,” Jake grinned, big and bright as he took a step closer to Bradley. “Darlin’, ain’t anyone ever tell you that? Cause if not, shame on every person who’s ever had the pleasure o’ meetin’ ya.” Though Jake felt his lips curl down into a frown as his brow furrowed at the way Bradley flinched from his words. At the way his shoulders hunched and he seemed to curl in on himself. Head tilting to the side, he raked his gaze along the tall, lean but surprisingly broad shouldered form of Bradley Bradshaw. “Well that won’t do. No, no, that won’t do at all, honey.” “What won’t do?” “You think you’re anything but special,” Jake answered, voice firm and serious as he stared into Bradley’s big old cow eyes. “Don’t worry none now, darlin’, I’ll make sure you don’t ever forget how special I know you truly are.”

🔥 virgin jake - hangster

“And this,” his guardian and private tutor, an elderly man whom Jake knows to have a bit of bite to him, calls as another steps into his private rooms, “will be your personal guard until your lord takes you.” Rolling his eyes as he turns, Jake readies a snide, biting remark for the unfortunate soul destined to keep himself until his patron takes him, claiming him, only to find the words dying on his tongue as he truly takes in the man before him.  He’s tall, maybe even taller than Jake himself is. Though he is lean but broad in the shoulders. Long dark honey curls sit atop his head, falling into his face as he moves a large hand to brush them aside. A mattering of scars could be seen on his left cheek and along his throat—Jake wondered what sort of monstrous creature could leave such scars on a vampire because surely the man before him could only be such a creature. Jake wanted to let out a whine, a whimper as he took the other man in but held it back. Instead, he let his lips twist into a haughty sneer as he eyed the other. “One would think my patron would have insisted on something better to guard me.” The man let out a low, raspy chuckle as he raked his gaze along Jake’s silk covered body—it was only decorum that kept him from shivering as if he could truly feel the man’s touch through his dark eyes—and answered softly after a moment with an incline of his head. “I can assure you, little human, your Lord insisted on only the best for his coveted courtesan.”

🥺 chap2 of helper - a/b/o hangster

“You don’t need to stay,” Jake mumbles, eyes barely flickering up to Bradley’s face before they quickly dart down to stare at his hands, where they were curled into fists laying limping in his lap. He can’t bear to let his gaze linger. Couldn’t take it if he saw anything that resembled hatred or anger or fear. If he saw that on Bradley’s face, or in his eyes, or heard it in his voice, Jake was positive he’d actually shatter into thousands of pieces. “Yeah, well, I don’t think you get a say in if I stay or not right now, Jake,” Bradley answers tersely. Though he sighs almost immediately before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I never took you off my papers,” he says after a beat of silence. “I’m sure you wanted me too, with how shit ended between us but you were and still are the only alpha I want touching me when I’m like that.” “You should have,” Jake whispers brokenly. “You should have taken me off, cause all I seem to do is hurt you.” “Baby,” Bradley breathes out, dropping to his knees to kneel in front of Jake. “The only way you hurt me was by driving me away. By acting like you didn’t love me.”

😎 win a date with jake - hangster

continuing from this ask!

“I’m glad I caught you though,” Jake flashed him a grin. “Ran outta there so fast before we could exchange numbers to plan our next date.” Blinking, Bradley couldn’t help but stare dumbfounded at Jake before he blurted out, “You want a second date?!” Only to pale at the way Jake suddenly jerked back at his question.  “Do you not want to go on one with me?” Jake asks, face falling as he moves to take a step back.  “Of course,” Bradley rushed to reassure him, his hand shooting out to stall Jake's movements. “I just. Well I just didn’t think you’d ever want to go out. With me. With me again that is,” he babbled, floundering as he tried to get his thoughts in order at the unexpected boon of getting another date with Jake. Another chance to make up for what a complete and total asshole he’d spent the night being. “Why wouldn’t I?” Jake asked, head tilting to the side as he stared at Bradley in confusion. “You were absolutely adorable the entire night. And you were unexpectedly sexy on top of that. Why wouldn’t I want to see more of you? To see if this is just a blip on the radar or something more?”

✍🏻 insecure bradley - hangster

“How can you think that?” Jake asks, voice cracking halfway through. “Honey, how can you possibly believe that?” “I’m sorry,” Bradley whispers wetly. “I’m sorry. I-I-I-I know, okay? I know this isn’t what you want from me,” he rushes to explain. To let Jake know Bradley understands what's going on between them. That Bradley doesn’t have any delusions about what they are, what Bradley truly is to him. What he meant to him. “Br-Bradley,” Jake starts, breaking halfway around a sob that he just barely stops in time. It takes him a moment of clearing his throat, of getting himself back under control before he can continue on. “Honey, what do you think is going on here? Between us?”

😭 jake doesn't deal with bradley's death - hangster

“No,” Jake shakes his head, eyes frantically flickering between Javy and Natasha. “No. No there is. There has to be some mistake. No. No he is, he is not gone. Do you hear me? He is not gone!”

💐 serial killer Jake - hangster

Bradley can’t help but turn slowly, entirely stunned as he sees the open spacious apartment Jake had insisted they view. “You. I. What?” “Do you like it?” Jake asks, eyeing the space with a harsh glare, as if he was ready to agree with whatever little thing found he didn’t like about it. “Jake. Jake, this is an entire floor. This apartment is an entire floor. To live in. I. What?” “But do you like it?” he asks again. “Do you think we’d like it here? For it to be ours.”

🤯 Random inbox prompt (1 through 26) - various ships/fandoms

This is a coldflash inbox prompt I'm working on and a continuation from this ask!

“I’m certain, Scarlet, I could sex my way out of anything with you,” Len teases back in a sultry drawl. “‘sides, this,” he pauses to wave his hand around the cheery Christmas decorations around their apartment, “is far more yours and your besides thing, than mine. We don’t celebrate much, beyond lighting the menorah Lisa got me a few years ago.” Though his lips curved into a frown as he watched the way Barry seemed to deflate slightly at his comment. “What?” “Nothing,” Barry answers around a forced grin before he goes back to fiddling with the stand of garland he’d just put up. “If…if it’s too much. Or a bother. We don’t have to host the party here? I can. I mean, we can hold it at the labs instead. So that, that we don’t need all of this up and bothering you in our home.”

🍷 Jake's family causes the hangster break up

directly follows from this ask!

“Oh,” Bradley breathed out slowly as stared at nothing before seeming to come back to himself. He knew this day would come. Had honestly expected it to come sooner. Though maybe it had, and he’d just missed it being stationed out in Japan while Jake was more often deployed to the Middle East or the carriers that did go as far as he was stationed. That was probably it. He’d probably actually missed the first man Jake had rebounded with after Bradley had left him.  He’d probably gotten all his angry feelings out about Bradley with a string of idiots only good enough to make Jake forget the name Bradley Bradshaw. Had probably fucked around enough he couldn’t remember Bradley’s touch or the way he’d once made Jake feel when they were in bed together. He was probably glad for it. For not having to remember Bradley, not his touch or his love. Swallowing around the tightness of his throat, he finally gave the tiniest nod to show he’d heard Javy. That he understood and didn’t need any further explanation about it. “N-no worries, Coyote,” Bradley croaks out before pausing to clear his throat. “Read you. No problems from me, man,” he breathes out, desperate to reassure Jake’s best friend that he wouldn’t cause any problems for him. For his future.

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