#Tax deductions for families

[styelforever]

Maximize Your Savings: A Free Guide to Child Tax Credit 2024

Discover how the Child Tax Credit for 2024 can significantly reduce your tax bill and boost your savings! This free course is designed for parents, guardians, and tax professionals to help you navigate the new updates, eligibility requirements, and filing tips to claim the full benefits for your family. Learn step-by-step how to unlock additional credits, avoid common mistakes, and make the most of this crucial financial resource. Enroll now for free and start maximizing your tax savings today!

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[tfincareer]

Unlock Financial Relief: Tax Benefits Every Family Should Know in 2024

Introduction In 2024, families have access to essential assessment benefits that offer assistance with spare cash. These incorporate the Child Assess Credit, Child Care Costs, and the Earned Pay Assess Credit. This direction will clarify how these credits work and illustrate how families can take advantage. Understanding these charge breaks can assist you with more cash in your stash, whether…

[rainywithachanceofstars]

look I don’t know how incentivized it is compared to the US or if it is even possible in Japan but I just. really want kazuki and rei to at some point consider getting married for tax reasons

[littlemuppetmonsters]

they love to do these silly little charity things at work where they ask us to bring in donations of food or pet supplies or whatever it is that month and i just can never bring myself to participate bc of all the food and pet supplies and everything else we throw away on a daily basis

[fairuzfan]

I'm watching two documentaries of one of my familys' villages and Palestinian and 'Israeli' witness accounts from the Naksa and a Jewish tour guide comes to one of the villages (which were the 3 villages side by side, all of them affected) and points to a bathhouse with gravestones all around it. The area of all three villages is now completely demolished and the Jewish National Fund built the "Canada Park" (funded predominately by Canada! Through tax deductible donations!), as well as an Israeli settlement, on top of it. An Israeli woman sits, eating from the trees that my ancestors planted, and she says "this is war. I dont feel the pain from these places, the pain of the people. This is what happens in war." Can you imagine? She sits, eating from my ancestors trees and she says "it doesn't matter to me." The level of selfishness to be so confident in your theft!

In the documentary, a Palestinian elder from Yalo says, holding back tears, that her dream is to go back to Yalo and die and be buried in her home, where her husband died. That was my great grandmothers' dream that was never realized, just a few years ago in a village not far from Yalo.

They talk about how this was a war crime, a crime against humanity. Since '67 we have been having these discussions. Since '48 we have been talking about war crimes committed by Israelis! These are the same discussions we keep having! The same facts we keep repeating! Even Yitzhak Rabin says the same things, that this is war, this is what happens in a war! It's the same things over and over and it's happening in Gaza!

There are people still alive who participated in the ethnic cleansing of these villages. They participated in demolishing these villages. They participated in killing those village members. They participated in the generations of poverty that Palestinians experience. They're still alive and just walking around in Israeli society, encouraging the genocide in Gaza. How can I trust a society like that? Knowing that these people are lauded as heroes for erasing these villages. How can I trust them when barely anyone in this society acknowledges the violence done onto us? Abhorrent violence that they let happen so willingly!

Here are the documentaries. These three villages were ethnically cleansed in '67, and it's shocking to hear the same sort of stories we hear from Gaza today. The same playbook, the same places.

Villages: Yalo, 'Imwas, Bayt Nuba

[techminsolutions]

Understanding India's New Tax Regime: Benefits for Earners Above Rs 15 Lakhs

In the past few years, India’s tax laws have changed a lot. These changes were made to make the system easier to understand and to offer lower tax rates and fewer exemptions. According to Nitin Gupta, head of the Central Board of Direct Taxes, the new tax regime, which is now the default option, is expected to provide numerous benefits to individuals earning more than Rs 15 lakhs. In this…

[frownyalfred]

Picturing Martha and Thomas- especially Thomas- as shallow aristocrats who just don't quite understand everything that Bruce has become. Why he has so endeavored to stopping crime, to adopting children, to throwing all that he is to "fix" Gotham. Their idea of activism is typical- galas and programs that can be deductible on taxes. Not whatever Bruce has gotten mixed up with, with no sleep, saving people they don't see as valuable like addicts and people who 'got themselves into their own mess" with familial cycles. and they REALLY just don't understand his children at all. (this applies more to Thomas overall, because of some depictions in the comics. I should really just write my own story but I LOVE the idea that Bruce has glorified his parents much, and thought that his goodness came from them, when it really came from himself.)

*resists the urge to write this fic too* oh my god what if they're only good in his memory. what if he and everyone else idolized them because they were dead. what if they were flawed and sometimes selfish and don't want to help Gotham like Bruce does. what if Bruce has to reconcile his mission with their current beliefs. what if they don't like his kids? WHAT IF THEY DON'T LIKE HIS KIDS??

[dailyrothko]

So here's the deal:

I just want to be transparent with my tumblr Rothko lovers. I applied and got fiscal sponsorship as a non-profit through Fractured Atlas.

Sadly, "Fiscal Sponsorship" is not what it sounds like, I pay them, they don't pay me. What it allows me to do is take donations and make them tax deductible and secure. I hope it's worth it.

I don't expect my poor pals on tumblr to donate, I don't think most of us have any money or we probably wouldn't be here, however, I am letting you know this because there's now a donate button on the blog.

I'm very poor and needed to do this to realize certain projects Rothko related projects. This is just a voluntary thing, i'm not going behind a paywall. Nothing is changing.

I mention this because their tacky donate button makes it look like I made a deal with the devil, but in actuality it's just for everyone's security.

I hate doing this at all but I am spread very thin. I spend a lot of time and money on this project and that's fine when i can do it, it's a labor of love. But some of it is just becoming impossible for me to maintain and so it goes.

Future projects include-

-I am writing a series of (three) articles I would like to publish about Rothko's impact in the modern world. Scholarly material on Rothko from art historians is good and I don't wish to retread old ground. However, there are some sides of the Rothko legacy I would like to cover based on my experiences, including interviews I have done with people on how they have come to the work (some of you guys), coverage of fakes and misattributions, and biographical impressions based on numerous interviews I have read with his family and friends.

-A bigger and ongoing project would be to create a website and central database that art enthusiasts can use to locate travelling Rothko exhibits and find which paintings are in which museums. Many people ask me these questions personally but if there was a place where all this information lived and someone to update it, people could look up available Rothko works in different cities they are travelling to.

We are living in a troubled world with many humanitarian concerns that should rightly take precedence over my little project, but I am trying to survive myself and lately it's pretty hard.

Thanks to all for 9 years of Rothko love.

(I realized no one can donate on the mobile app, so if you wish to, use this link below.)

[mishacollins]

It's an honor to stand with the Ukrainian President and people, but we need you to stand with us, too: https://donorbox.org/collins_demining

People back home keep asking me, “What can I do?” This is something we can all do. Please help us clear land mines from civilian areas of Ukraine to prevent thousands of senseless deaths.

This demining effort will save the lives of thousands of innocent Ukrainians. Every dollar will go to the effort with zero administrative costs.  This is something you can do to really help Ukrainian families. Please give the most you can. It is tax deductible. 

Contribute whatever you can & then please share this as widely as you can so we can make a real material difference for the Ukrainian people.  Thank you. https://donorbox.org/collins_demining

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Vapor

This is Part 2

You can read Part 1 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader 

Summary: An accountant helps Carmen organize his not-so-shit-restaurant and gets invited over for family dinner. 

Word Count: 10k

__

The sky was blood orange and the reflection on the store window was mesmerizing. Y/n was supposed to be in the office getting ready for the full day ahead of her but she couldn’t resist slacking off for a bit, it was nice to finally enjoy the restaurant with no one inside. Y/n needed to be here early when a potential vendor came by to give some quotes. Carmen’s initial reaction was to stand his ground and act like some faux bodyguard because he couldn't fathom why some “sick fuck” would want to be alone with a woman in a restaurant at the ass crack of dawn without them having bad intentions—said it wasn't safe at all. Y/n had to inform him that the, “sick fuck” was a woman. And as soon as Carmen heard that, and realized they were going to be talking numbers for a while, he ran off to the farmer's market, wanting no part in that snooze fest. 

Y/n grabbed her laptop and started reviewing the binders she organized. Just as y/n was about to check her phone for any messages, she heard a knock at the door. A pretty blond woman looks at y/n with a bit of confusion. This woman wasn’t expecting to see y/n and y/n wasn't expecting to see this woman. Y/n walked to the door and opened a crack. 

“Who are you?” Y/n questioned. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” The women laughed but y/n wasn’t finding this funny.

“Natalie…” Y/n shook her head like a bouncer sending a teeager away without his fake ID.

“Natalie Berzatto.” She clarified and y/n recalled the name as a co-signer for The Beef, now The Bear. Y/n opened the door a bit more to let her in. 

Y/n gave her name but she didn’t know what else to say but Natalie was already filling the space. 

“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you, Carmen won't stop talking about you. You really saved our asses. Especially with the file organizing stuff, I found the old payroll stuff in like a minute, you're a real savant with stuff like that. Carmy is a real sticker for cooking but he is a real shit-”. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Natalie was nervous.

Y/n knew that Natalie was a part of Carmen’s family but she didn’t know how they were connected. One plausible scenario was that she was Micheal’s widowed girlfriend or wife, which would explain why anyone would co-sign the disaster that Micheal had created and promptly left. Y/n wondered why Carmen would be getting so chummy with his widowed sister-in-law, but then again men have done worse. 

Y/n bit the bullet, “How do you know Carmen?”

“I'm his sister… Sugar?” Y/n was starting to feel like a real idiot for not being able to piece these easy deductions together, she was losing her edge because it was to fucking early in the morning.

“Yes, Richie told me that “Sugar” was going to stop by this week. What can I do for you?” Y/n didn’t mention that she thought Sugar was going to be a stripper because of the name. 

“Actually I came to pick some old tax stuff… Micheal’s tax returns.” Y/n guided her to the office. Even if she didn’t look back she knew that Natalie was spying on her binders and laptop laid out on the counter, trying to find out a bit about y/n. 

“So, Carmy tells me that you two used to work together back in New York.”

“Yeah it was only for a few years.”

“Were you close?” Natalie probed. 

“We were…strangers at best.” Y/n chose to leave out the messy parts of her and Carmen’s origins. 

Natalie shook her head in disbelief. "That can't be true, he actually came to my place one day, pretty late. You know why?" Y/n, not knowing the answer, simply shrugged her shoulders. 

"He said he needed to make an important phone call, someone from his old job. He said that he wanted to ask for a bit of help." Natalie continued, her voice tinged with wishfulness "I thought maybe he was finally going to therapy or something." Y/n felt a strange sensation, like she was staring directly into the sun, hope gave Natalie a beautiful glow. 

Natalie's smile softened as she added, "And you know what? He made that phone call right on our porch." Her words carried a touch of warmth. "Well, at least he's reaching out for help. It's a good thing, right?"

“I recommended therapy to him too but I think we would need to put a gun to his head for him to actually go." Natalie let out a humored exhale. 

There was a lull of silence after she handed the tax returns. Y/n could sense that Natalie wanted to talk some more so y/n directed her to the bar stools out front. She checked her phone and saw that her vendor had a family emergency and needed to reschedule. After shooting a quick ok, she directed herself to face Natalie. 

"You can ask me anything. I've got plenty of time to kill." Y/n offered, feeling generous considering the recent kiss shared with Natalie's brother just a week ago.

“I was here a few times but I never had a chance to meet you?”

“I was probably apartment hunting.” Natalie looked like she was debating asking her next question.   

“What did you think of Carmen when you guys were back in New York?”

“He was like every other chef.”

“Nothing else? No pulling force?”

“No pulling force.”

“You moved state lines for him and you're saying there was no pulling force?”

“He asked me for help and I gave him some.” 

“You chose to stay. There had to be a pull.”

“The restaurant spoke to my soul, I had to stay.” Y/n was bluffing. 

“Bullshit, there was a pull.” Natalie said with a self fulfilled smirk like she had won a point in their imaginary game.

Natalie continued, “You know, he won a Michelin star. A man who cooks…is not too bad.”

“I don’t eat gourmet food. It’s pretentious.” Y/n didn’t want to make too much out of the kiss and make Carmen panic.

“I'm sure he can make something you will like.” 

“I have yet to eat something of his that would warrant him having a Michelin star.”

“You don’t like his cooking?”

“I don’t like anyone’s cooking.” Natalie couldn’t come up with something else. Point to y/n. A smile spread across y/n’s face and Natalie was relieved to realize that y/n wasn’t being serious. 

“What do you like doing?” Natalie probed. 

“I spend most of my time working here but I also read.” 

“Why did you leave New York?” Natalie blurted out.

“I don’t like working with other people, my boss was all over me. I thought Chicago would be a nice change of pace.” 

Y/n saw Natalie unlock her phone to respond to a text from someone named Pete, who had a pink heart near his name. Y/n knew that memorizing people’s passwords was an invasion of their privacy but it was fun to be a bit nosy. 

Y/n was also tired of getting the third-degree, she was hoping for a few fun questions asking if she ever murdered anyone or if she ever was contacted to be a part of a bank heist. She would be lying if she wasn’t a bit afraid that whatever she said would be relayed to Carmen so she didn’t want to say anything too damning. 

“You read romance?” Y/n saw the book peeking out of Natalie’s bag, it was one that she had read before. 

“Yeah, they’re my guilty pleasure.”

“Mine too. I liked that one.” Y/n pointed at the book peaking out.

“I hate it, it's filled with miscommunication. I’m only finishing it to justify the 12 dollars I spent.” Natalie said with a fake pout. 

“I love miscommunication because I suck at talking to people too. Much better than the one I just finished.”

“What killed your book?”

“Third-act break up.” Natalie nodded her head, it seems like they agreed. 

Y/n couldn't help but feel relieved; while the nature of Y/n's relationship with Carmen remained uncertain, it was evident that Natalie would become a more integral part of the restaurant. Carmen's recent discovery of three hundred thousand dollars hidden in tomato cans had sparked ambitious plans for renovating the place. Even if she ended up being nothing serious with Carmen, she needed to secure a stable support who wouldn’t completely hate her if shit hit the fan. 

They continued to talk about a few books that they had read, a few so trashy that they had to hide their faces in embarrassment from each other when reading the summary out loud. 

The door chimed and both women looked over to Carmen who was holding a few bags of produce and baked goods. Y/n went over and plucked the receipts for the top of one of the bags, she didn’t bother helping Carmen because he wouldn’t have let her help anyways. Carmen was gracious enough to put all the receipts together so she wasn’t digging to find them, she kept a record of them to write them off as a business deduction. 

“Nat, you’re here early?” Carmen spared a glance before opening a box of croissants to share and then disappearing to the kitchen to put everything away. 

“Yeah I had to pick something up, y/n was so kind to help me so early in the morning. Isn’t she just the best?” 

“Yeah…How did it go with the vendor?” Carmen mindlessly mumbled while busying himself with a notebook of recipe ideas. 

“Rescheduled.” Y/n didn’t look up, engrossed in cataloging some expensive mushrooms for record keeping. $268.43 for some mushrooms was honestly so ridiculous y/n needed to squint to see if she was seeing this right. 

“I need to return the favor.” Natalie started.

“It was just a few folders, you really don’t-”

“Why don’t you join us for dinner on friday?” Y/n felt like she was performing front and center.

“I couldn’t-.” 

“Please, Pete never wants to talk to me about…” Natalie was raising her eyebrows in the most unsubtle way possible so she didn’t expose y/n's softer side and her penchant for reading romance novels. Y/n couldn’t help but hide her face in embarrassment, “Yeah…fine. Just tell me what time.”

Observing the exchange, Carmen couldn't help but wonder if this was how dogs felt when humans engaged in their own incomprehensible conversations.

Y/n was starting to feel like she was edging closer and closer to Carmen’s limit. Kissing in the back alley of a restaurant and on the car ride to and from work was very different from being invited to his sister’s house for dinner. It carried a weight of intimacy, commitment, and solidity that made Y/n slightly uneasy, wondering if this was too much for Carmen. She waited for the other shoe to drop, Carmen would subtly show his discontent by telling Natalie that she shouldn’t force y/n to go to that dinner, which was just an excuse to create some distance. Y/n was surprised when Carmen asked what type of desert he should bring instead. 

Y/n kept her cool and excused herself to go to the office so she could get back to work. 

Carmen and Natalie moved to the kitchen where Carmen would experiment for a bit. Natalie sat on a stool next to Carmen who started washing produce. 

“She is very smart.” Natalie whispered. She took a glance at the closed office door.

“Yeah. Great with the books.” Carmen peeled and diced some garlic. 

“Nice too.”

“She is very nice.” Carmen started cutting some nepitella. The additional “very” caused some alarm bells to ring in Natalie’s head. She hid her smirk. 

“Everything about her is nice,” Natalie made sure to pay close attention to Carmen’s face, “Nice personality, nice face-” Carmen took a worried glance at the office door and then looked up at Natalie with wide eyes.

“Why, why, what are you-?” He was flustered. 

“I’m just sharing my observations. You don’t think she has a nice face-?”

“This is a business, we try to keep professional.” Carmen hid his fumble with fake professionality, unfortunately Natalie saw right through it. 

“Try?” Natalie teased. Carmen looked away to pretend to look for some dried porcini. He felt like an idiot. He understood why people used to see him as an easy target when he was younger, he basically showed everyone his buttons, and asked them to get pushed. Carmen continued to chop in silence. 

“I'm sorry, I just got a bit excited. I won't push.” Natalie gave her brother the benefit of the doubt, she always thought he would never get into a serious relationship but he liked y/n and y/n seemed like the serious girlfriend type. Natalie couldn’t help but nudge Carmen in the right direction. 

Carmen chopped in silence for a few minutes, debating if he should tell Natalie about the kiss. In his mind, he didn’t know if it was too soon for him to introduce his girlfriend to his family. Calling y/n his girlfriend felt unreal, past him wouldn’t believe it even if he saw it.  

He handed his notebook to Natalie so she could read measurements to him, he wanted her here for just a bit longer till he gained the courage to tell her about y/n. 

Tagliatelle with porcini mushrooms was the first test item of the morning, and he had to soak the dried porcini for 30 minutes, he was bummed that the market didn't have the fresh kind but he knew he would get the real shit when y/n got a hold of that vendor. He looked up at Natalie and tilted his head to indicate that they should leave. Carmen avoided the alley because he knew that y/n would look there first and he didn’t want her to overhear anything. They walked over to a nearby supermarket and started roaming the aisles. It was nearly empty because it was six in the morning. 

“I did something…and I need you to not…just listen and don’t make it a big deal.”

“I got it, Carmy.” 

“A while ago, I…” Carmen looked at all the different types of instant noodles they had on display. “So, we were in deep shit with these pre-orders and I was a mess and y/n and I were talking after…” Carmen moved over to the boxed pasta, he didn't intend to buy anything but he did read the nutritional facts.

“I umm, asked her to…” Jesus, Carmen wondered, why he didn’t make more friends so he didn’t have to talk to his older sister about something like this. Richie didn’t seem capable of giving any advice that wasn’t, “Just Do It���.

 “We ki…” Natalie kept her face hard but the second that Carmen turned around to look at a box of elbow pasta, she couldn't help herself but let out a small, barely audible squeal of delight. Her eyes widened, and a grin threatened to break through her determined facade. Natalie quickly covered her mouth with her hand, trying to contain her elation, making sure not to let Carmen catch a glimpse. She stifled her excitement with every fiber of her being, preserving the illusion of calmness for when Carmen turned back around, none the wiser.

“It’s been a while, and we k…” Carmen didn’t know how he was supposed to maturely ask for advice when he couldn’t even say a kiss in front of his sister while cringing. Carmen couldn’t do this, it was too open, too vulnerable. 

Nat cut him some slack and started asking questions instead, “Was it a one time thing?” Carmen subtly shook his head no. Her lips parted as she squeezed a jar of Pego to contain herself. 

“Do you regret it?” Carmen didn’t respond but that didn’t mean no, that ment that she was getting closer to the root of the problem.

“Do you think she’s going to regret it?” Carmen’s shoulder’s raised slightly, bingo. 

“Why don’t I gauge how she is feeling at dinner.” Nat knew he was about to run away from her for exposing too much and she had to give him an incentive to not follow his instincts. 

She continued, “We talked earlier, she said she hates your cooking.” Carmen’s head snapped up, Nat knew that y/n was just joking but it was still a bit funny to mess with Carmen. 

The look of shock transported her back to when she was eight sitting next to Carmy and watching Micheal convince him to finish a glass of milk or else he would lose all of his teeth to a calcium deficiency. This wasn’t the time to reminisce but it made her heart warm knowing that even after going through so much, there was still a part of young Carmy that persevered. She was feeling the burning in the back of her eyes, her hormones were making her sentimental. 

“Yeah she said that your food fucking blows.” Carmen caught on and let out a small laugh.

They both roamed in the aisle moving on to juices. Sugar free, diet, pineapple, orange. Carmen’s eyebrows raised when he saw the price of orange juice before putting it down and deciding to just make his own. 

Carmen started, “She isn’t the type of person who changes her mind easily,” but if she can make that shift to see him in a good light, maybe she'll stick around and eventually see the real Carmen—a pathetic, insecure loser. All he did was make a promise to her but he knew it meant nothing without actions, and he was unsure if he could control his anger or keep his obsessiveness in check when something especially difficult happened. If another shit storm made its rounds in the kitchen, would he really be able to be the bigger person? Carmen doubted it. 

Carmen just ripped off the bandaid, “I don’t know how to…I want her to not hate me. I know I'm going to..” Carmen waited till a child next to them moved to the other end of teh aisle towards his dad, “..fuck it up, but I dont want that to happen.” 

“What makes you think she is going to hate you?”

“When we were talking…she told me that I should have done better. And that I…needed to be “stable”, but I don’t know how to be that for myself, let alone someone else.”

“She isn’t asking you to do it for her, she wants you to do it for yourself.” Natalie offered. 

“Its like having to solve a word search to answer a stupid fucking puzzle. I don’t…” Carmen sighed in defeat. Nat knew that he was strong and it was impossible for her to fix this for him but that still made her palms itch seeing him struggle like this. She racked her brain, desperately seeking any glimmer of a solution that could offer him even a shred of relief. 

They both walked out the market towards the restaurant. “It's really hard…and it's not that I don’t want to, it just feels impossible.” Carmen muttered, he was close to giving up. 

A burning sensation welled up in the back of Natalie's throat, and she instinctively placed her hand on Carmen's shoulder as a gesture of support and to her surprise Carmen looked at her, saw her glassy eyes and hugged her. The shock knocked a few tears from her eyes.. 

Carmy was not a selfish person but Nat noticed that he was becoming a bit more aware that he takes up much more space then he originally thought he did. He now knew that his presence was big enough to be able to tear people down but was also big enough to offer meaningful support. He had come to understand his own significance, and this realization struck Natalie like a tidal wave, causing her to burst into uncontrollable sobs. 

“Does crying mean I'm fucked, Sugar?” Carmen asked, his voice tinged with humor and uncertainty, as he gently rubbed Natalie's back for comfort. Nat shook her head no.

“You'll be okay. You always are.” Nat wiped her face before continuing to walk back to the restaurant. 

Carmen snuck a few glances to see what was making his sister a sobbing mess, she wasn’t the type to break down like that, “Are you good?” Natalie nodded her head.

“Everything good at home?” It felt strange to say the word home, even after visiting multiple countries and living in many different apartments, Carmen couldn’t really call any place home. Home was supposed to be a sanctuary of warmth, Carmen's closest experience to that feeling was back in his family house—a place where the warmth was scalding and suffocating. Where it was a constant waiting game, anticipating the intense heat to escalate and cause everything, and everyone, to boil over. 

Carmen was acutely aware that he would never have a home quite like Sugar's. He couldn't help but wonder if he had what it took to be like Pete for someone else—always helpful, kind, and perhaps a little too accommodating. He questioned whether he had the capacity to fulfill that role and maintain his own sense of self. Granted, what about his “self” was worth preserving?

Natalie nodded her head but Carmen wasn’t convinced. “It's just a lot, you know. Seeing the place getting renovated. I used to hate that place, but..” She sighed, “...I picked up Micheal’s tax returns, I didn’t even need them for anything…I just wanted to see them to know what he was going through towards the…'' end. She didn’t need to finish for Carmen to know what she was talking about. They were in front of the restaurant and Carmen gave her a side hug and against his better judgment he tried his hand in verbal reassurance so he could be there for her, fully. 

“I think he tried his best to make everything look fine, and it’s nice to know that he was at least able to pretend till the...end.” Sugar looked up at him and didn’t comment on his successful attempt to be her support, not wanting to scare him. 

They wordlessly walked in the restaurant and Carmen finished up his dish. He made enough for one plate because he was expecting to have to remake it a few times. He grabbed a small plate and served a separate plate for y/n before knocking on her door. She looked up at him, not hearing him and gave him a “hmm” which echoed in his chest. She sat with them in the kitchen, taking her laptop with her. They all took the first bite together. Carmen watched both women’s reactions to gauge their uncensored reactions. Natalie’s eyebrows raised and she gave him a nod of approval. 

Y/n took a bite and looked up from her plate so see Carmen staring at her. “Why are you staring?”

“Do you not like it?” 

“It’s good.” Y/n put her fork down and propped up her head on her hand. 

“But, you didn’t-”

“I’m not really a foodie, so food is never like…” Y/n made an explosion sound and flicked her hands open, “Good, is the best you going to get out of me.” Natalie wondered how a chef and an anti-gourmet foodie were going to work. 

“Is all food just ”good”?” Y/n looked up and tried to think of food that was better than good.

“I like mom's cooking.” 

“What is her food like?”

“Intense…subtly in food doesn’t mean anything to me because I don’t taste the difference.” Carmen was waiting for more for y/n.

“I ate a lot of spicy, sour and bitter food growing up. My mom didn’t think that kids should eat different things than everyone else, so I guess pasta and mushrooms will always be just “good”.” Y/n felt like she was just shitting all over his profession but he asked for her opinion so he couldn’t get offended now. 

Carmen nodded his head before walking away. Y/n pierced her lips and looked over to Natalie wondering if she hurt Carmen’s feelings. Natalie looked just as bewildered. Just as y/n was about to find Carmen, he came out with a few more ingredients.

“What are you making?” 

“Something you will like.” 

“I liked what you made-” 

“Good is not enough.” 

“Come on, Carmen, it's something that everyone will like, it’s going to kill opening day.”

“But you have to like it.” Y/n sighed before indicating that he should continue. 

“You won’t be able to serve the food I like to eat, it would be considered a biological weapon.” Y/n was warning him but Carmen thought she was teasing him. He would learn to listen to her warning in the future. He put the porcini mushrooms to the side before getting started on some penne all’arrabbiata. 

Y/n laughed at him knowing that he wouldn’t have the courage to spice up a dish to her standard before grabbing her laptop so she could get some work done and also talk to Natalie about contractors. 

While Carmen chopped and stirred, y/n subtly glanced up at his flexing back and strong arms. She thought she was hiding it well but when she went to check if Natalie noticed she saw that Natalie was already watching her. Natalie snickered as y/n hid her face behind her laptop to hide her embarrassment. Carmen turned around to see what was so funny but was just met with the view of both of them with their faces hiding behind their hands. 

Y/n felt someone pass behind her and knew it was Sydney without having to look up. “Hey guys, what are we making?” She took a bite out of the pasta, which was slightly cooled but she still nodded her head. 

“It’s fire, chef. It would be great if it was hot, I want to remake it to see what it was supposed to taste like.”

Y/n couldn’t say that she completely forgave Sydney but y/n did respect that she went to Richie to give some type of apology after a while. Y/n could accept that the two of them wouldn’t be best friends, they just needed to be able to work together. 

Y/n went to Carmen’s locker before pulling out a few Tums for everyone, it looks like today was going to be pasta day because of her and she didn’t want to send everyone home with a stomach ache.

Carmen continued with his pasta, and served it in front of y/n. All the women took a bite,

“It’s got a kick to it.” Natalie said while reaching for a food container filled with water while wiping sweat from her brow. Sydney gave Carmen a, “This is fire, chef.” Y/n couldn't help but cringe inwardly at the comment because she knew she couldn't quite match their shared vernacular and the ease with which they expressed themselves with food. What private passion did y/n and Carmen share?

Carmen stared y/n down as she took a bite.

“It’s good.” Carmen waited for her to elaborate. “It’s too subtle.” 

Carmen smirked, “Yeah, next time I'll just make you a ball of fire for you to enjoy.” Y/n gave him a shit eating grin, it was just too fun not to mess with him, and when she saw him smile back she felt a bit of imaginary nostalgia, this was what she longed for back in New York. 

The restaurant was still closed for renovations and after a while a few other crew members came by to do some demo. Y/n was stuck on hold with the inspector's office when she was approached by Natalie, “I’ve got a doctor’s appointment so I've got to go, I’ll see you on Friday at eight.” 

The rest of the week flew by because they were on a very strict time crunch to open in a few months. Y/n wasn’t very worried but she could feel the nerves from everyone else and she knew it would be in bad taste to tell them to toughen up, so she let them be grown ups and deal with their own anxieties. 

On Friday, y/n left early to get ready for dinner, she opened an old moving box and pulled out a dress that she wore to an old work function. It was very tasteful because it was freezing outside. Y/n grabbed her gifts before running into Carmen’s car. Y/n took one look at Carmen and had to do a double take to make sure that she went into the right person’s car. Carmen’s hair was lighty slicked back, probably with pomade, and he was wearing a deep blue sweater with a white collar. 

“I didn’t know you had clothes other than aprons and Dickies.”

“You look..” Carmen marveled at the way her eyes sparkled with an inner radiance, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He knew he wasn’t able to get the full picture yet because they were in a dark car but he could only imagine what she would do to him when they went to the well lit house. “..great.” Carmen wanted to punch himself for being so unoriginal but he couldn’t focus on anything. 

“Thank you, you look good too. Blue is definitely your color..” Carmen’s fingers loosened around the steering wheel, compliments had always made him uneasy; he spent the majority of his life trying to make himself as small as possible and now he was pushed into the spotlight and he wondered if he even liked it?

“Carmen, can you look at me for a second?” And when he swiveled his head towards y/n, she squished his face lighty before giving his puckered lips a soft kiss. Just as she was about to lean back into her seat, Carmen, unable to resist, slipped his hand beneath her hair, grasping the back of her neck and drawing her in for a deeper, more passionate second kiss. 

Yeah, he liked it.

“We are going to be late.” Y/n whispered before giving him one last peck. Carmen, still in a daze, fiddled with the radio so he could get his head straight. The ride to his sister’s house was quiet barring the soft jazz. Y/n was very nervous, they never had that conversation that said that they were official and for all she knew she was just a friend that Carmen kissed from time to time. She resisted the urge to ask right now because she was scared to find out that they were nothing more. She would savor the few minutes before she was inevitably introduced as a friend, or worse a co-worker. 

They pulled into Natalie’s driveway and got out of the car, y/n grabbed the bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine and they rang the doorbell. 

"Why are you holding the tray like that?" Y/n asked, noticing how Carmen clung to it like a shield. Before she could receive a response, Natalie opened the door with a warm greeting, inviting them inside. Y/n handed over the gifts, but Carmen still clung onto his belongings. Just then, Peter descended the stairs, seemingly about to approach Carmen for a hug before his gaze landed on Carmen's protective tray. He hesitated and stepped back, realizing it was acting as a barrier. Y/n stifled a laugh, biting her cheek to prevent herself from laughing at Carmen’s immaturity.

Carmen greeted, “Pete.” Y/n could feel the dislike and she felt bad for Pete because he seemed nice.

“Carmen, it’s good to see you, man.”

“This is my girlfriend, y/n.” A sense of numbness overwhelmed her. It was like when people get run over by a semi and say that they don’t feel anything. Y/n extended her hand to shake Pete's, and she followed him into the living room. 

Carmen went into the kitchen to help Natalie and y/n made pleasant conversation with Pete, he seemed a bit soft but she could understand why Natalie might want someone like him. Y/n pretended to be interested when he showed her his Cubs memorabilia, she initially thought the Cubs were a fictional sports team made by the New Girl writers. 

Y/n and Pete walked over to the kitchen and asked if they needed any help. Pete looked like he wanted to actually be helpful but y/n had her fingers crossed hoping she didn’t have to do any cooking. It was weird to see Carmen let someone else take the lead while he watched. Even with Sydney, he still watched over everything like a hawk, not because he didn’t trust her, it's just because he wouldn’t let her fail. 

Y/n watched as everyone spoke and she wondered where she fit in. Natalie and Carmen were obviously close and Pete was doing his best to get close to Carmen, trying to bridge the obvious gap between them. Y/n had to stop herself from telling Carmen to either be nicer or for Pete to drop it.

Other than being Carmen’s new “girlfriend” and sharing small talk, what else was there for her to talk about? Y/n didn’t know them well but she could tell there was a lot of subtext between the three of them that added weight to their interactions that she wasn’t privy to yet. She was a flame trying to suck in any bubble of oxygen so she could ignite, she needed more information before she could actually join them.

 It felt like she was reading Dune for the first time, being dropped in the middle of an already moving plot and she was scrambling to play catch up. Carmen had a lot of triggers and she wondered if Natalie was the same. Even if they acted completely differently, y/n could tell that they were sidestepping something, like they were avoiding talking about a gaping bullet wound, and if siblings were acting like that it means that it's a problem with the parents. Despite the fact that they were in the kitchen, the three of them weren’t talking about the food. Y/n made a mental checklist of a few rules; 1. Don’t bring up parents 2. Don't mention food because it's a trigger 3. Pay attention to Natalie because she was not as good at hiding her feelings as Carmen. 

Dinner was served and they all took a seat, y/n took slow sips of wine and saw that Natalie’s wine was slightly darker than hers. Y/n was sitting across Natalie so she recognized the smell too, apple. She was drinking sparkling apple cider. Y/n hid her smirk by talking another sip, she would be a spy or something because she was killing it in the recon department. 

Dinner was starting to feel stiff, y/n took a deep breath and turned to Natalie, “Your cooking is to die for.” Natalie tucked in her lips but couldn’t help but hide her smile, y/n never told Carmen anything like that, barring the first day she got to Chicago, it was a petty way of getting back at him for blindsiding her by calling her his girlfriend. 

“Thanks, It's a family recipe.” Y/n wanted to stab herself with the fork, she just broke rule one and two. Just as y/n was about to make some asinine comment to change topics, Carmen did it for her.

“Can you pass me the bread, Sugar?” Y/n found her opening.

“Sugar, that’s a nice nickname, what’s the story?” 

Natalie paused and y/n had a feeling she fucked up, “We were having this Chrismas family thing and I added a cup of sugar into the gravy instead of salt. The name just stuck.” Y/n definitely fucked up, she was breaking rules left and right. Y/n scrabbled to put herself in the same level as Natalie.

“I’ve been there. My parents were having a few co-worker over for lunch and they brought a box of these expensive mangos and I was told to make some smoothies because it was boiling that day. I filled up the sugar container with salt without noticing and made them smoothies with a ton of salt.” Y/n saw that all eyes were on her and she didn’t allow herself to be nervous because she was trying to get a deeper point across.

Y/n continued, “I have never heard that many people gag all at once.” Their faces broke into a smile.

“What did your mom say?” Bingo, looks like the taboo parent could be narrowed down to their mother. 

“She didn’t say anything bad, she and her co-workers just laughed. I mean I was a kid and we all make mistakes. I ended up making lemonade instead.”

Natalie’s eyes lit up,“It’s a shame that all those mangos went to waste.” Natalie joked. 

“Waste?” Y/n had a fake offense, “I drank the rest to prove that it wasn’t that bad.”

“Was it that bad?” Pete asked.

“My blood pressure was through the roof. It was the first time I ever got a headache.” 

The rest of dinner was a bit more relaxed, y/n was expecting Carmen to talk a bit more because these were his people but it looked like she would have to do the talking for the both of them. They finished up dinner and y/n got up to help them clean up. It was y/n and Carmen alone in the kitchen while Natalie went upstairs to check on something, aka she needed some rest and Pete went to check up on her. 

As Carmen washed the dishes, Y/n stood by, towel in hand, drying them. The domestic scene felt comfortable, yet she couldn't determine if she truly enjoyed this newfound domesticity. She wondered if in Carmen’s eyes she was merely playing the role of the perfect partner – someone who could effortlessly navigate his family dynamics, fix his business, and be his own manic pixie dream girl. 

A selfish thought crossed Y/n's mind. What was she truly gaining from this relationship? She had been too afraid to make a move with Carmen after the kiss, fearing that one misstep could lead her to being shut out completely. She hesitated to voice her preferences about his food, to ask about the nature of their relationship, or to discuss their future plans if this relationship fell through. Y/n wasn't one to dwell in discomfort, except for her previous job, and she felt frustrated that she had to jump through so many hoops just to ensure that Carmen wouldn't leave.

They finished the dishes and y/n could tell that Carmen wanted to check on Natalie but he didn’t want to leave y/n alone. Y/n being a supportive girlfriend, practically pushed him up the steps before walking out the front door and leaning on the porch. Y/n grabbed her jacket and walked out. She underestimated the frigid Chicago air which felt like a sharp slap to her face, serving as a wake-up call. It reminded her that the warm and fuzzy feeling she had been battling within herself was merely fleeting, and that the reality of the world could be much harsher and more painful. 

Y/n couldn’t help but wonder why Carmen was even bothering with her, they had nothing in common but the restaurant. Work was everything for him and Sydney, their shared connection always pulled them together despite both of their volatile personalities. What pulled y/n and Carmen together? They both worked in the restaurant but Carmen didn’t have a passion for running said restaurant, it was a mere obligation that y/n took from him. If she stopped working there, what else did they have in common? 

Y/n came to the daunting realization that Carmen picked Sydney because he saw potential in her, a chance to let both him and her grow. However, he didn’t pick y/n because he saw something deeper in her, it was an act of embarrassed desperation. 

Was she just a means to help Carmen get his shit together? The restaurant meant a lot to Micheal and after he died Carmen stopped seeing the restaurant as something that was out of his reach but as something to connect him to his brother, a small thread connecting the estranged brothers. Y/n was there to hold up the connection in the vaguest of ways, she kept the restaurant afloat so Carmen could come to terms with Micheals’s legacy, good and bad.

She was lost in thought when she heard the door close, she turned her head to see Carmen was already lighting a cigarette. It was difficult for her to be objective when Carmen locked eyes with her with such intensity. Y/n ripped her eyes from him and faced forward looking at the neighbor's yard, they had nice shrubs. 

“I thought you left.” Carmen started as he leaned on the railing with y/n. He looked forward to see what was so interesting that y/n couldn’t look him in the face, it was just some trees.

“I needed some air.”

“You could catch a cold.” 

“I don’t get sick, sick is a mindset.” Y/n was obviously joking. 

She lowered her head so that she could feel the cold metal on her forehead, maybe a different type of pain would make this conversation easier. Her forehead landed on something warm, the back of Carmen’s hand. She turned her head to its side but remained connected to Carmen’s hand. The warmth radiating on her cheek was making her stomach do backflips. Even if she knew she shouldn’t be indulging like this she couldn’t help it. He felt too good and y/n was getting more and more greedy. 

“Hey, Carmen?” Carmen was still staring at y/n. “What do we have in common?” He looked taken aback.

“We like each other…” He was starting to feel the slow slitter of nausea because he knew the other shoe was about to drop.

“If we don’t have much in common, what do we talk about?” 

“We can talk about whatever we like. It’s nice to…be with someone who isn't wrapped up in the same things as me.” Carmen expressed a genuine warmth in his voice. Carmen wanted to say that she made him feel like the roof wasn’t going to collapse on him and that the small things weren’t going to destroy him but it felt selfish to describe how much he cared for her based on how she made him feel and not on facts about her. 

“I don’t care about fancy food.” Y/n blurted out.

Carmen chuckled, “You know about the vendors, where the supplies are sourced, how much they cost, and a bunch of other stuff. You do care, just in a different way than I do.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It gives me perspective. It’s very realistic and grounded.” Y/n knew he was calling her realistic and grounded. 

“I like hearing you talk about my food.” Carmen offered.

“Even if it’s just “good”?”

“Especially if it's just "good". That means you're telling me the truth.” Carmen recalled a ninth grade world history lesson about the Rosetta Stone, an artifact written in three different languages and made it possible to translate some ancient language. Though he hadn't fully paid attention during the lesson, Carmen now saw the parallel. If Y/n had the courage to express her opinions on his food, it meant she was being honest with him about everything else. 

Y/n cracked a smile before covering her mouth and started laughing. It was a jarring sound, Carmen couldn’t pinpoint what the laugh was meant to convey but he knew it wasn’t good. 

“What?” Carmen asked, Y/n rubbed her face with her cold hands. 

“You said that you were scared of me a while back but now…” Y/n's laughter softened into a smaller chuckle, conveying a mix of amusement and irony.

“I’m scared of you.” The weight was lifted off her shoulders and slammed down on Carmen's. Y/n wondered if this is how the rest of their relationship was going to be; one person transferring their hurt to the other till the weight became too much to bear. 

"It's... I want to bring so many things up to you but..." Y/n wondered if this counted as an accusation. "..you’re so flighty. I don't know what to say that won't make you..." Y/n struggled to find a word that didn't feel so definitive, but the only word that felt honest was, "...leave."

The porch fell into an uneasy silence, both of them grappling with the weight of Y/n's vulnerability.

"I...I didn't realize..." Carmen stammered, his voice betraying his inner turmoil. "I would never just... leave." They both stared in silence, they knew that wasn’t true. Y/n lifted her head leaving the warmth behind, she knew this wouldn’t work if he made false promises. And against everything telling her to just accept his promise as law and ignore any doubts, she couldn’t fool herself like that. 

“That’s such bullshit.” Y/n lighty giggled. It felt as though a shark had promised to stop swimming—it was ingrained in their nature. In that lighthearted moment, a mischievous thought crossed Y/n's mind: What would happen if Carmen actually stopped running away? Would he cease to exist, like a fish in space? 

Her playful musings, though immature, offered a brief respite from the weight of their conversation. It was a temporary escape, a way to diffuse the tension. Y/n noticed that she brought all this shit up to comfort herself but she was giggling to make him feel safe. Even when she knew she shouldn’t, she couldn't help but try to make him feel better. 

As the laughter subsided, Y/n met Carmen's eyes, she forced herself to ignore the emotions he was conveying and instead tried to match his eyes with things she had seen in the past. If this ended poorly, she would miss his eyes the most and she wanted to know what else could match in intensity in case she never got to see him like this ever again, nothing came to mind.

Carmen felt like he was backed into a corner, he couldn’t promise her anything without her, justifiably, doubting him. 

"I don't want to leave you," Carmen offered, his voice carrying a mixture of sincerity and vulnerability. It was the most honest response he could offer at that moment. He couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't feel the urge to run, to escape when things got tough, but he had a genuine desire to stay. 

Y/n's eyes met Carmen's, her expression softened. She knew it wasn't a perfect answer, but it was a step forward. It was enough to know that he acknowledged his own complexities and still chose to be present with her.

They stood in the quiet watching neighbors turn off their living room lights and go upstairs. She wanted to test out whether, “They could talk about whatever they wanted too.” 

“What do you think they’re doing?” Y/n asked, Carmen parted his lips and turned his face to look at y/n so see if she was serious, she was.

“I think they go to bed and she has this super long night time routine and he is already asleep by the time she gets to bed. You?” Y/n knew that if they ever slept over at each other’s place, that’s exactly what would happen between them. 

“She probably got home from a shit day and she starts reading an easy romance book…Do you read any books?”

“They are mostly cooking stuff.” He took a drag from his cigarette.

“You read cookbooks for entertainment?”

“Sometimes, it's a part of the craft.” Carmen realized how fucking pretentious he sounded and was a bit ashamed but seeing y/n refrain from teasing him by bitting her lips made him not want to crawl into a hole and die of shame, her smile was addicting. “…but there is a lot of history and science too. '' Carmen knew he sucked at conversation but he would do anything to keep talking. 

“What was your last book?” 

Y/n and Carmen kept talking till they lost track of time and eventually when they had reached a comfortable lull, y/n could confidently say that they were in fact capable of holding a conversation about mundane shit. 

Against every fiber of her being telling her to end their conversation like this, she couldn’t help but ask, “What happens…if this ends?” Y/n didn’t know if she was supposed to use “if” or “when”; one was cautious, the other was a prophecy. 

Carmen didn’t look back at her, instead giving her, “You’ll still have a job…I’m not a dick…all the time.” Y/n lips curved upwards. 

“Will you be able to work with someone you’ve been in a relationship with?” 

“Yes.” Carmen wondered if the answer could ever be anything other than yes. 

Y/n knew that if this ended badly she would be allowed to stick around so that Carmen would have an excuse to throw himself at his work. She would be the catalyst to merge him from an individual to a vague reflection of Micheal’s legacy. 

Whether or not Carmen knew it, Micheal was a huge influence in his life and just like Micheal began to isolate himself towards the end, Carmen would do the same if they drifted apart. It was his inherent weakness and a relationship gone sour that would make it difficult for him to break the cycle that Micheal had started. 

“I won’t stay if it hurts you, Carmen.”

“I would want you to stay, y/n.”

“There is no trophy that comes with going through unnecessary shit.”

“I know, I would still need you.” Carmen hesitated but eventually placed his hand top on y/n's. 

“Because I can do the books?” Y/n rolled her eyes jokingly. 

“No…you do more than that. You are…” Carmen read books with a shit ton of adjectives, they had to be descriptive to describe food through text. Despite that, he was at a loss for words to describe her.

"You are..." he began again, this time his voice was a little gentler than before. He took a deep breath, hoping that he could find those words that would express everything he felt.

"You are very important to me,". His voice was soft like he was realizing this for the first time. 

The second time was meant for y/n, "You are very important to me."  I love you, y/n. 

Y/n locked eyes with Carmen for a moment. 

"You are important to me too." I love you, Carmen.

Neither of them had the courage to say that to each other, wondering if they were the only one’s feeling like this. 

They both had jackets on but y/n’s hands were freezing and she could feel Carmen’s hand was also ice cold. She knew that they had both reached their limits but y/n couldn’t help but relish in the cold for a bit longer. 

For y/n, the biting cold was always a catalyst for clarity, stripping away the unnecessary and forcing y/n to distill her focus onto the few things that mattered. Amidst the frost, she found solace in the simplicity. It was within this chilling environment that she discovered a clear chance to confront her inner turmoil head-on and confront the world. 

Carmen had always been drawn to the intense heat. It was as if the scorching temperatures matched the fire that burned within him, igniting his passion and driving him forward but leaving him with nothing to look back on. Extreme heat was his poison of choice, his way of confronting the world. 

Carmen’s heat was turning her mind into a messy slurry of slush. Y/n had to force herself to focus despite the fact that Carmen’s hand was providing her with a sliver of intoxicating  warmth.

“You didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend.” Carmen’s head shot up aback by y/n's words. He was excited to introduce her to his family, and he hadn't thought to ask her permission first. He tried to explain himself, his words coming out in a rush.

"I didn't mean to assume anything. I just thought that since we've been seeing each other for a while now, it was... " He took a moment to catch his breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

“I think you should try asking first.” Carmen stared at y/n not knowing if this was a trap to get rejected twice. He opted for silence.

“Carmen, ask me if I want to be your girlfriend?” Carmen didn't want to say the wrong thing, not when it was so important, for someone so important. Carmen trusted y/n so he stubbed his cigarette on the ashtray before taking a deep breath and asking, “Will you be my girlfriend, y/n.” 

Y/n wrapped her freezing hands around his neck accidentally grazing her finger on his neck making him shiver. She leaned in against his lip and even though they had kissed before this, Carmen felt like he couldn’t think. Y/n lips barely touching Carmen’s before whispering a soft, “Yes, Carmy.” 

Carmen closed the small gap between their lips. And y/n felt a gentle heat seep through the folds of her head making it difficult to focus on her freezing fingers, or her numb toes, or her goosebump riddled legs, or her shivering arms. Y/n felt Carmen pull her closer and even though they were as close as physically possible, it wasn’t enough. Carmen’s lips left y/n’s before trailing down the column of her neck, y/n could feel the blossoming of heat radiate from his lips. Y/n’s hands sank down to Carmen’s waist and slowly drifted up his shirt. The cold sent shivers down his spine as y/n’s hands moved at a glacial pace. 

Just as Carmen reached the collar of her jacket he looked up at her and y/n had to resist every irrational and reckless part of her that told her to continue. The realization that they were on Carmen’s sister’s porch made y/n look around to ground herself. She landed on a black box right near the door before looking back to Carmen with her mouth agape and her eyes wide open. 

“What?” Carmen questioned with furrowed eyebrows.

“We are on your sister's porch.” Y/n said with a thousand yard stare and a distant mutter.

“I’m not a fucking animal, obviously we aren’t going to do this here.” Y/n softly grasped Carmen’s face before turning towards the black box, a doorbell camera. 

“Jesus…fuck.” They both looked at each other before y/n scrambled inside with Carmen right behind her. Either they were caught and they had to face Natalie despite the embarrassment or they got to the footage before Natalie saw it.  

Y/n let Carmen lead her to Natalie’s room, who thankfully was still laying on her side, Pete had gone to the restroom. 

Y/n leaned up to Carmen before whispering, “Distract her.” Carmen sat near Natalie and asked her if she wanted some ginger-ale or if he should stop by a pharmacy. 

Natalie's phone was on the nightstand and y/n swiped it when Natalie wasn’t looking before unlocking her phone with the password she acquired from being noisy. She then deleted the footage of the last hour from her Ring app. Y/n wanted to scroll back a few months to watch Carmen call her for the first time but she didn’t have enough time. 

Y/n set the phone exactly how she found it and gave Carmen a subtle thumbs up. 

“I’m fine, I think I need to sleep this off.” Natalie sat up while glancing at y/n and y/n had to resist freezing like a criminal caught in the spotlight. 

“I’m really sorry-” Natalie started.

“Please don’t be. I had a great time. Is there anything we can do for you before we leave?” Y/n felt bad for taking advantage of Natalie’s pregnancy induced sickness but this was a matter of prestige, she wouldn’t be able to set foot in this house if Natalie ever saw the footage.  

Natalie shook her head no and they said their goodbye’s before Camren and y/n practically tripped over themselves running out of that house. They sprinted to the car and slammed the doors shut before bursting out laughing. Y/n felt like she was a teenager again, sneaking her boyfriend out the fire escape before her mom walked in. Carmen pushed his forehead into the steering wheel to laugh and the sound that echoed felt like it was melting itself into y/n’s brain, forever branded into her memory. 

“How many times have you been here, Carmen? You never noticed the fucking camera, you dick?” Y/n struggled to shake off the heat that pulsed up her body, Camren hadn’t even started the car yet and she was burning up. 

“I…I never looked, what kind of freak looks?”Carmen said in between laughs. Y/n gave him a fake look of disapproval.

“Turn the car on, Berzatto, you’re getting on my fucking nerves.”

Carmen turned on his car before pulling out of Natalie’s driveway, he was still snickering and in the streetlight y/n could see his neck turn bright red. 

“Stop by a CVS or something.” Y/n said while fiddling with the radio.

“You think you caught something from Nat.” Y/n resisted telling him that pregnancy wasn’t contagious, men are so fucking stupid. 

“You have condoms on you?” Carmen slammed on the break, lucky they were at a red light.

“N...no.” Scarlet crawled up his neck and up his face. Y/n didn’t know someone’s ears could ever get that red before. Carmen stayed still trying to collect his fractured thoughts. 

“It's green, Carmen.”

He stepped on the gas and y/n was glad that the roads were practically empty because he was driving like he had all the insurance in the world. He pulled over to a Walgreens and ran out of the car. Y/n shook her head at his shit parking, he was in between two spots. Carmen came back in a minute with a plastic bag, y/n could decipher from the shapes that he had also bought some gatorades too. 

Carmen pulled out of the parking lot.

Y/n didn’t recognize the streets on their ride back, “Your place?” 

“Mine is closer.” Carmen replied, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation.

Y/n could help but giggle, she always loved it when he was desperate. She knew it was wrong, but she always felt such a rush of excitement when her control over him was at its pinnacle and they both knew it.

When they reached a stop sign, y/n glanced over at Camren and saw that he was already looking back at her. 

They couldn’t seem to care that they were wading in uncharted waters and they couldn’t convince themselves that this was going to end badly enough for them to not at least try. If they looked at each other like that, there was no way they were going to let each other go. 

__

End Notes:

Fire + Ice = Vapor; It took me an embarrassing amount of time to think of that.

There is a lot of tension and maturity that needs to be written in smut for it to be good and I just can’t do that. I tried for this one and I had to close my laptop and take a lap because the second hand embarrassment was too much. So those drafts have been deleted and I’m glad I never have to see them again. 

I didn't think people would like Turbulence, I was going to delete it after a few hours and just keep it to myself but i'm glad that people liked it so ig it's here to stay. I tried to keep this one more contained then Turbulence bc writing about multiple days is such a pain.

I really don’t know what else I might write about for these two, or in general, so if you have any suggestions feel free to send them to me. If your suggestion inspires me, you better believe that I'm going to get out of bed at 2 in the morning and start writing. Or we can bury these two in a shallow grave and forget they exist, which is also fine by me because I think fic aged me.

[adore-laur]

Dadrry idea: since Harry left his position of head chef and there’s a second baby now, maybe they’re struggling a tiny bit with money. Not too much but things are a little stressful and they have to cancel a holiday maybe? Or one of the girls just doesn’t get a toy she wants or something? And they have to explain it to the child just while Harry picks up a few more shifts

——

Harry handled the finances and was highly aware of each transaction made in the family. With two kids, you both had to be quite frugal, especially since Harry was working fewer hours at the restaurant and you were a stay-at-home mom. While there was never an issue of not having enough money to pay the bills and provide your children with life’s necessities, the prospect of running out still haunted your mind. It was possible that an unforeseeable emergency could snatch a hefty chunk of money away. Additionally, there were other boring adult charges like mortgages, taxes, and monthly subscriptions that all left a bigger deduction with each year that passed.

Then there was the summer trip to Italy happening in two months. The plane tickets had already been bought and gifted for Christmas, and the villa was booked in advance. It was expensive, but the other option of staying in a cramped hotel room for a week was undesirable in all regards. The space and privacy were crucial for your sanity.

Italy was not a cheap travel destination per se. There would be money spent every day on transportation, dining, tourist traps, and whatever else sucked you in with its magnificent European beauty. Indulging in extravagance would be tempting, but if you planned and budgeted ahead of time, maybe the financial repercussions of the trip wouldn't be so deplorable. Your wishful thinking was blatantly deceptive.

After putting the kids to bed, you sat at the kitchen table under the dim chandelier and waited for Harry to finish unloading the dishwasher. His silent presence was comfortable as you pondered the logistics of the upcoming trip. Well, pondered was putting it lightly—you were brooding.

"I can hear you thinking," Harry said, setting the last bowl in the cupboard to his left. He washed and dried his hands, then walked over to you with his cotton pajama pants slung low on his hips. His bare torso was at your eye level, and you fought the urge to bury your face in the warm, chiseled skin there.

"My head is going to explode," you muttered, feeling an imminent migraine pulsing near your temples.

He fell into the chair beside you, exhausted from an eventful Saturday filled with dad duties, and scooted it closer to you. "Why, baby?" he asked, his palms scrubbing down his face as he yawned.

"I'm overthinking everything."

Placing his elbow on the table, he cradled his cheek in his palm and gave you his full focus. "Break it down for me."

"There's mainly one thing." You huffed, deciding to broach the topic before it got swept under the rug. "The Italy trip. Prices are going up, and I'm worried we won't be able to afford going anymore."

Harry's expression was the epitome of flummoxed. "Wait, what? Where is this coming from?"

"You're not working full-time," you explained, "and I'm not raking in any income. I mean, will we be able to financially recover from the trip? What if—"

"Hold on, hold on," he said softly, his eyes pinching shut. "Can I interrupt, please?"

You half-heartedly waved your hand in his general direction, in desperate need of his sensible guidance. "Be my guest."

"Let's backtrack for a second. Honey, why do you think we won't be able to afford it? The biggest costs are already out of the way."

"I just told you why. Think about it, Harry." You tapped the table to emphasize each point. "A meal for four people will probably cost over a hundred dollars. That includes breakfast, lunch, and dinner, so if we multiply that by the seven days we're there, it's going to be well over a thousand dollars."

"Okay," he said. He didn't seem to have anything to add after that, so you continued.

"Then there's transportation." You groaned, staring up at the ceiling. "We still have to decide if we're renting a car. If not, we'll have to pay for a bus, or a train, or a taxi. That's going to add up very quickly."

"Mm-hmm." Harry had a dopey look on his face, a hint of a smile tugging the corners of his lips up. Whatever. You were being realistic, and he was in a dreamland where money grew on trees.

You carried on, getting tangled in the vines of your brain's dense jungle. "And then what about all the sightseeing and activities? That's the most expensive aspect." You shrugged helplessly. "I was recently searching for free things to do in Tuscany. I guess there are a lot of buildings we can look at, but I don't know if the kids would enjoy it."

Harry nodded along. When he realized you were done with your long-winded explanation, he lifted his eyebrows and said, "It's a good thing we can spoil them with the raise I got yesterday."

"And also—what?" You stopped abruptly, catching your breath. Did he just...?

Harry stood and bent down to kiss your forehead in that sweet way of his—gentle and imploring, like he wanted to caress your brain and will it to calm down. "I got a raise yesterday," he repeated nonchalantly, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you demanded, lightly smacking his shoulder.

"I'm telling you right now. I wanted to wait until we had a moment to ourselves." He crouched in front of you, holding your knees just like he'd done when you told him you were pregnant for the second time. The memory was so vivid that it almost left you stunned with emotion. "Five percent pay raise. We're going to be just fine." His simple smile was remedial. "We are not canceling this trip."

You exhaled, releasing all of your worries into the air, the pounding in your temples dissipating. "Why didn't you stop me from rambling on?"

"Because it's healthy to speak those types of thoughts aloud instead of letting them simmer," Harry replied like the perfect husband he was.

You cupped his cheeks and kissed him deeply, pouring all of your love and gratitude into it. "I'm so proud of you," you whispered against his mouth. He savored your words by humming and sliding his tongue across yours for a brief second. "I appreciate the hard work you put into making our little family happy. And thank you for making this vacation possible."

"Wanted to spoil my girls," Harry murmured, craning his neck to kiss you more. His wet lips pulled at yours, greedy for their pliancy.

"Are you going to pick up more hours at the restaurant?" you asked in between the sounds of lip-smacking and heavy breathing. Something about him at night, in the dimly lit kitchen, with you as his sole focus, was igniting that secret fuse only he could play with.

"Shhh..." His fingers dug into your waist as he lifted you off the chair. Your legs and arms wrapped around him, warmth flooding right under your skin like wildfire. "No more work talk. I want some alone time with my wife before a hungry baby wakes us up."

You giggled and bit his bottom lip in excitement before he carried you to the bedroom.

Miraculously, your six-month-old gave the both of you forty minutes of uninterrupted time to roll around in the sheets.

When you went to sleep later that night, visions of Tuscany's hillside vineyards and swimming in the vast sea erased your concerns. As did the unequivocal vision of the man beside you making precious memories with his babies.

With Harry, there was no need to sweat the small stuff. His eyes were set on the most important thing—family.

——

[vladdyissues]

Danny Phantom, but Vlad decided to live forward without Fentons, so, they weren't invited to the party in tha castle, so, Vlad and Danny didn't meet that year. BUT they met when Danny was in Wisconsin college (19/20 years?). F.e. Danny has developed a strong ghost scenting system by this time, so, he felt the strange Vlad's ectoaura and decided to check who it is. There's no reason for them to fight. How do you imagine their interaction? Would it be a spark and storm of insanity, sex? What's Vlad's reaction to the information whose son Danny is?

Well, Vlad already knew of "the ghost boy" before the college reunion, and I imagine that Plasmius would either eventually a) challenge/destroy/neutralize Phantom or b) try to tempt him with the same offer he made Danny. I mean, this guy is so desperate to have a family that it makes him look stupid.

BUT supposing that he was never able to properly "introduce" himself to Phantom, and/or Phantom was able to avoid Plasmius for a few years, the idea of Vlad meeting a 19- or 20-year-old Danny is intriguing. How would it happen?

Perhaps a scenario like the University of Wisconsin wanting to honor their most famous alumnus with a ceremony—or Vlad makes a generous *cough* tax-deductible *cough* donation for a scholarship program, and maybe Danny is a recipient of that scholarship and therefore obligated to attend the ceremony.

But the minute Vlad takes the stage, he's distracted by a spectral signature emanating from somewhere in the audience. Danny likewise senses a powerful ghost aura, though less accurately, and wends his way through the crowd to find the source.

As Vlad absently stumbles and stutters through his speech, his eyes finally lock onto the young man who just appeared at the front of the crowd. At the same second, the two realize that the other is the source of the signature. Vlad proceeds with his speech more smoothly now while Danny racks his brain to figure out why this rich, smug asshole is positively radioactive with ghost energy.

When the ceremony concludes, Danny charges to the backstage area to find that Vlad has vanished. Danny hunts for him, even going invisible and flying to try to locate him, but no luck. The man is gone.

Discouraged and more than a little perplexed, Danny begins the long walk back to his dorm. Suddenly a stretch limo rolls up beside him. A dark window glides down, revealing none other than Vlad Masters.

"Care for a lift?" he asks archly.

At this range, the ectoplasmic frequencies radiating from him are so strong that Danny's ghost sense goes berserk. He exhales the coldest breath he's ever heaved, wobbles, and drops to the sidewalk in a dead faint.

He wakes up later (how much later? He has no idea) in a luxurious back seat, a cold gel pack on his head, with Vlad Masters, billionaire tech mogul and "philanthropist", sitting across from him, gazing at him with concern. A small smile breaks through when Danny sits up.

Wow, he's really handsome up close, Danny thinks.

"What's going on?" Danny asks, hoping his face doesn't look as red as it feels.

"You passed out," Vlad answers. "I couldn't leave you in the hot sun. Ice specters aren't exactly known for their heat tolerance."

Danny freezes—figuratively this time, and the rosy blush drains from his cheeks.

"Would you care for a drink?" Vlad asks, still smiling.

"Who are you?" Danny says, then winces and adds, "I mean. I know who you are, but—"

"Then you have the advantage." Vlad hands him a frosty bottle of expensive mineral water. "What's your name, young man?"

"Um. Danny. Daniel Fenton." He cracks open the bottle and drinks. Across from him, Vlad's eyes widen.

"Fenton, you said?"

A nod.

"You wouldn't happen to be related to a Jack Fenton, would you?"

"Yeah. He's my dad. Why, do you know him?"

Vlad ignores the question and leans forward. His eyes—blue, Danny sees, really dark blue—gleam with interest. "I presume you know a little something about ghosts, then."

Despite his racing heart, Danny's brain feels like sludge. He shakes his head and blinks a few times, finally pulling on a nervous smile. "Nah, uh, that's more my mom and dad's thing."

"I see." Vlad studies him for a moment. "Are you hungr—sorry. Silly question. Of course you're hungry. You're a college student." His eyes fall to the holes in Danny's jeans, the scuffed sneakers, the pilled hoodie with its faded graphics. Danny squeezes his legs together self-consciously and experiences a pang of embarrassment. Vlad's gaze returns to his face.

"Would you care for lunch, Daniel? My treat, of course. Unless you'd rather join me for dinner at my home? I could send a chauffeur to pick you up around seven. I make a fondue to die for. Well"—a chuckle— "half-die for, anyway."

Danny forgets his financial woes. And lots of other things. His brain struggles to process the past two minutes. A hot rich guy saturated with some of the most powerful ecto-energy he's ever felt is asking him to dinner. Maybe even a dinner dinner. Which, if Danny is honest, wouldn't disappoint him. He stares at Vlad Masters with his mouth slightly ajar.

"Uh... I, uh. Sure. Um, dinner sounds good."

[simply-ivanka]

Tim Walz’s Progressive Tax Experiment

The Minnesota economy is no success story on the Governor’s watch.

By The Editorial Board - Wall Street Journal

Our friends in the press don’t seem to care about Tim Walz’s economic record as Governor of Minnesota. But Americans might be interested since it foreshadows where a Kamala Harris-Walz Administration would take the country with their policies.

Minnesota boasts a low employment rate (2.9%), but that’s less impressive than it seems. Nearly all of its job growth under Mr. Walz has been in industries that rely on government spending. Since he entered office in January 2019, Minnesota has added a net 41,500 jobs. This includes 43,900 in healthcare and social assistance and 12,600 in government.

Private industries have lost jobs, including finance, information, professional and business services, retail, manufacturing and leisure and hospitality. Such job losses started before the pandemic but accelerated during Mr. Walz's prolonged lockdowns and have increased during the last year.

Manufacturing employment has declined by 7,500 over the past 12 months, while professional and business services have shed 22,700 jobs. This is especially notable since Mr. Walz last spring signed a giant tax increase, including a 1% surcharge on investment income over $1 million. He also reduced standard deductions for businesses such as for net operating losses.

At the same time he expanded myriad tax credits such as for rent, film production, dependent care and families. Minnesotans can even get a $150 refund for contributing to state political parties and candidates. Such tax credits shrink the tax base so much that Democrats have to keep rates high. Minnesota’s top rate is 9.85% not counting his one-percentage point surcharge—which sends the rich or retired out of state.

Households with roughly $5 billion in adjusted gross income left Minnesota between 2019 and 2022, according to the most recent IRS data. Minnesota in 2022 ranked eighth in income loss among states as a share of overall AGI, after Illinois, New York, California, New Jersey, Alaska, Maryland and Massachusetts.

Top destinations for Minnesota refugees include zero-income tax Florida, Texas and South Dakota. South Dakota’s rate of job growth has been more than four times higher than Minnesota’s since Mr. Walz took the helm. At least overtaxed and jobless Minnesotans can vote with their feet. If Ms. Harris wins, all Americans might have to live by California and Minnesota rules.

[mira0000000-blog]

Quick international list to help Brazil

Please check if this is the latest version before reblogging! Thanks!

(last updated: 11/05/2024)

Donations( 1 USD=5 BRL / 1 EUR=5,47BRL)

MST pelas vítimas das enchentes RS

Cozinhas Solidárias (5 dollars are enough for 2 packed meals.)

-> They also have Stripe and Paypal alternatives linked in the donation page, but please only use them if they are the only viable option as those services have higher fees over the donations.

Brazil Foundation (tax deductible!)

-> For USA donators "Your generous contributions to BrazilFoundation – a 501(c)(3) nonprofit – are tax-deductible to the fullest extent possible. BrazilFoundation (EIN 13-4131482) provides a tax receipt for each donation received."

IFCR (priority is given to families that didn't get assistance yet)

PAYPAL:

doacoespaypal@cufa.org.br

GRAD Brasil (animal rescue)

STRIPE:

->Donations for A maior campanha solidária do RS

USD

EUR

GBP

Learn about it:

BBC Brasil video ( toggle on english subtitles.)

AlJazeera video

Folha de São Paulo English article

AlJazeera Article

NYT Article

Reuters article

[rarepears]

SQQ: I just don't know why Binghe's empire doesn't seem to be doing well

SQH: Bro you've been dumping all these papers one for since this morning, and I haven't seen a single financial report. What's your tax revenue at, really?

SQQ, 3rd generation rich baby with a hired accountant: Oh taxes aren't real and so we're not doing them

SQH: wat

SQQ: I didn't want to give tax breaks

All Shen Yuan knows is that his family pays like... $100 a year in taxes. You know, as billionaires do. All those lovely tactics of tax evasion and legally minimizing their tax burdens by buying more property, opening various charities and foundations where they "take business trips to Caribbean's" so that they can holiday there AND deduct it as business expense, and more. What is even the point of taxes? Not much.

Shang Qinghua: We need to eAt ThE RiCh! Shen Yuan: Aren't you, like, the second richest cultivation in this world? Shang Qinghua who's been officially crowned Empress of the North (at last): Shuddup.

[More in #taxation in svsss meta]