#i can turn to this! these r things i definitely wanna get done. in time...

[orcelito]

waaaaaaaaaaaa

im feeling a bit inspired again. and ive continued my reread of trigun Including the compilation documents i decided to make for the things im interested in

"assorted details" being little tidbits i decide to keep. my ITNL compilation doc & my active chapter doc.

"manga locations" is a big one. i want to puzzle out where things actually are in relation to one another, so im taking notes anytime a location is mentioned

"manga times" anytime a definite time is mentioned, it goes in there.

"planning" is for ITNL lol, it's detailing all my gung-ho guns things

"plant powers" is another big one. trying to compile proof for everything plants (and more importantly for my purposes, Vash) can do. here is the current list of sections (as of the end of chapter 9), though it is going to be updated as i go along

AND THEN "vash psyche". me compiling bits of proof for Vash's mind state, mostly in relation to his lack of self-worth & other such problems. i want to eventually do a proper analysis of it throughout the manga, so. compilation doc it is.

[dumblilb]

I don’t wanna talk

Pitfighter!Vi x Bartender!Reader

(Synopsis: Vi’s been having a hard time recently. You decide to give her a little relief.)

(Cw : !SMUT MDNI!, lesbian sex, Sub!Vi, oral (both!r), thigh riding (vi!r), strap (vi!r), begging, mentions of alcohol, profanity, crying from overstim, a little angst but not really, kinda fluff)

(Requested: Yes)

(Wc : 2,8k)

* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚★。*

As her newly dark hair falls over her eyes all she could think about was how angry she was. It hadn’t even quite hit her yet why. Maybe it was her bruised knuckles, and the way they made her hands look so ruff against your skin. Or the fact that the lights were blinding her eyes. But as she looked up at you over the bar counter, she knew she had one thing to be surely mad at. You were gonna probably gonna send her home.

She held your forearm with a small bit of pressure. Putting the drink you were making for your final customer of the night on pause.

“Please. I need a drink. Just one.” Vi pleads. She looks tired. Her shoulders are slightly slouched and her eyes look sullen. You can’t help but sigh. This is the third night this week you’ve denied her service. Normally you can’t help but place down another beer for a drunkerd. A few extra dollars in your pocket from some rando isn’t the worst thing in the world. But when it’s your friend that’s when it gets complicated.

“Vi, I’m off in a minute. Just let me finish making this and you can come with me back to mine. Okay?” You smile softly. Her grip on your arm loosens and she looks at you for a second, debating her answer. Did she really want you to take her home and put her to bed. Her eyes flicker to the softness in your eyes. And the way your chest moved delicately up and down while you breathed. Actually that doesn’t sound like a bad idea right now. Maybe she wasn’t that upset after all.

“Fine. Just-“ She breathes out heavy, hanging her head. “Don’t make me wait too long.” She lets up on your arm and walks over to the exit waiting for you. You can’t help but stare at her as you clean up and clock out. Her jacket is slung over her shoulder. The fabric molding to the sweat covered muscles of her back. Like an unruly child she scrapes her large leather boots across the floor back n forth. Almost in protest of you testing her level of patience.

You walk over to her and she gives you a slight tinge of a smile as she wraps her arm around your shoulders.

“You’re getting sweat on me.” You grimace. She just places a peck on your cheek with a stuck up grin.

“You love it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to give you that impression.” You roll your eyes. But the undeniable smile covering your face gives her the courage she needs for the night.

The walk home was quick since you live not too far. Which vi was pleased about. The second you unlocked the door she pulled you into your own home, leading you to your room.

“What the hell are you doing.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Nothing I just wanna talk.” She says sitting down on your bed. Discarding her boots and jacket to the floor.

“Talk?” You question. You’re used to her flirting. She’s done it her whole life. She’s never really not been a charmer. But ever since she started doing those pit fights and coming to find you at the bar afterwards, it’s been a little intense. She started coming as a way to see you. She’d buy a drink. Chat you up. Get turned down. And she’d buy another. You could tell she was just sad and lonely. So you didn’t really give the idea of it the time of day. But as the drinking became more intense you got worried. She only seemed to become more upset the more times you sent her on her way. Beer in hand. You’d started to think you definitely fucked up. And she wasn’t joking around.

“Can’t remember the last time we talked about anything other than how bad you want me.” You tease, trying to keep the energy light. Maybe just this once. You’d try and see how this goes.

“You know I’ve had a really shitty day. Lost my match. And the only thing that’s made me feel better is the sight of you. You seem to have that effect on me recently.” She states as you sit down next to her. She leans to rest her head down softly on your shoulder. You don’t quite know how to react to what she’s just said. Her breath is hitting your skin sending a shiver down your back. You go to rest your hand to her cheek bringing her to face you, but she pulls back almost like a flinch. You ease her in closer.

“I don’t think I wanna talk right now.” You whisper, leaning in slightly to close the gap. She almost gasps at the contact but finds composure and melts into the kiss. All she could think about for weeks was how you would feel against her. If your lips were soft or if your eyelashes would flutter against her cheeks. But nothing could have prepared her for how heavenly you would feel.

The softness of your lips had her entranced as she pulled you in for more. Leaning into you making you fall back on your arms, deeper into your bed. She parts for a second, taking in your face. The way your eyes dart from hers to her lips. The way they your lips stay open slightly. Like they’re inviting her back in. You take the chance and kiss her again. Guiding her body up into a sitting position. Practically straddling your hips. You place a hand to her chest, feeling up to her neck. You could feel her heart racing under your touch. Deep breaths wracked her body as you fiddled with the wraps around her torso.

“Can I?” You question and she continues to kiss you, moving down your neck.

“Please.” She exhales and you start removing them. Much too slow for her taste. She’s antsy, nipping at your skin as you work. You finally get it off and take a second to admire her. She beautiful. Her skin is pale but it glimmers with sweat as she pants. You run your fingers over her chest, caressing her softly making her look at you nervously. What if you didn’t like them. What if-

“God you’re fucking perfect.” You exclaim quietly, placing soft kisses upon them. Her head falls back as you enclose on of them in your mouth. Putting your tongue to work, rolling over her nipple gently with your other hand.

Her hand grips your thigh tightly as a way to cope with the new sensation. She runs her other over your head till you pull back. She looks at you slightly confused till you begin removing your top, making her eyes go wide. The black bra still covering your chest doesn’t keep her from gawking. She slides off your lap for a second, hastily removing her own black jeans leaving her in just a pair of boxers in front of you. Her happy trail on display. Scooting forward you grab her hand placing it on your own pants. Giving her permission to remove them.

She bends down in front of you, sliding them over your hips and down your legs. Running her fingers up your thighs she starts to spread them apart, but you urge her back onto your lap.

“You said you had a bad day? Let me make you feel good.” You breathe into her ear, teasing her boxers off with your fingertips. Which she is now eagerly ripping off. Placing her, now noticeably wet, core down on one of your thighs. You grip her hips with a bit of force. Guiding them in a back in forth motion. She lets out a soft grunt as she slowly picks up the pace. Resting her head in the crook of your neck, she sloppily places small pecks to your collar bone. Her hands gripping your waist to keep steady.

Each motion she made caused a moan to leave her lips. They started quiet but as her legs became shaky you’d remind her how good she was doing. You rock your leg up into her, making the whining become louder. Her voice barely sounding legible between gasps, as she pleads with you.

“Fuck! I- I can’t…” She lets out, whipping her head back. You just smile at her softly. You roll over onto the bed, bringing her under you. Her hair falling back out of her face, leaving you with her wide eyed expression. She’s confused as to why you stopped her from finishing, till you get down on your knees beside the bed. Pulling her legs towards you and resting them on your shoulders. Her toned thighs clenched around you in anticipation as you leave little kisses to the area.

She’s starts to get needy, grinding her hips upward towards your lips when you grip her tightly. Looking up at her flushed face. Any makeup she was wearing earlier was fully smudged off and beads of sweat dripped down her abs as her deep breaths made each one flex just a little. It makes your brain spin a little as she looks at you with softness. Eyes pleading with you. Practically begging for relief.

“Please-“ She starts to say when you run your tongue through her folds. Her whole body melts into the bed. Each dip into her making her squirm as you work your way to her clit. Tonguing it with swift motion. Loud grunts leave her lips as she grips your head trying to push you in closer. She wants more. Which is fine. You have much more to give.

Coming up for air you slightly knock her hand out of the way. You begin holding her hips up with nothing but your own strength. Her legs fully over your shoulders. She tries to help by holding herself up with her forearms. But as you begin sucking on the sensitive area she gives up. An echoing moan leaves her as her core starts to tense up. Gripping your sheets tightly, she holds her eyes closed. Almost embarrassed to face you like this. Weak and to your will.

Her hips start to twitch. And before you could even prepare she’s a mess under you. Her release covering your mouth. She lays there panting for a minute while you gently set her down. Leaving wet kisses up her body, till you’re lying against her. Bringing her lips you yours, letting her taste herself. She holds you tight as if scared you would leave. Bitting slightly at your lips. Just enough to claim her stake. Her hand falls to your underwear line and she starts to inch closer to your core. You couldn’t help but peek to see the way her tattoos flowed with her muscles at each movement.

Moving your hips forward you allow her to start softly running her fingers through your folds. A small murmur of pleasure creeps out making her smile into the kiss. Applying light pressure she moves in circular motions, moving her kisses down your neck. Nipping at it slightly. The louder you get the faster she goes. The restriction of your panties upsets her so she takes a pause to slide them off and gets right back to it.

You place your hand on hers and guide it down to your entrance. She understands quickly and moves to be more on top of you. Holding one of your thighs down slightly with her leg. Holding herself up with one of her arms, her other glides its first finger into your core gently. She hesitates for a moment before you impatiently buck your hips, letting her know it’s okay to start moving.

She starts gingerly. Nervous almost. But as you whisper words of encouragement under your breath she starts to pick up the pace. Each thrust making you squirm under her. As her speed increases you bring one of your own hands down to massage your clit. The feeling of another finger entering makes a warmth start building in your stomach. Vi grunts as she continues. Her eyes not leaving you. The way your chest moves at her motions could make her drool. She starts to curl her fingers upward inside you and your pace becomes faster. But it’s sloppy, and a lack of composure becomes apparent.

“Fuck! Vi don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.” You say stern, even in your current state. Your legs start to shake under her and with a last pump the feeling in your stomach releases making your whole body tense against her. She slowly starts to remove her fingers, placing them in her mouth to lick them clean. Under heavy lids you look at her with a smirk. She liked the way you tasted. You could see it on her face. She was pussy drunk.

Sitting up you move to reach under the bed. Grabbing what you need from the box you kept there. She looks at you curious till you bring it into her view. The hot pink strap, now sitting on your lap, makes her eyes go wide.

“Do you want me too..” She starts but as you get up and start to tighten it around your hips, she understands. “Oh!”

“Is this okay?” You check walking towards her position at the edge of the bed. She nods her head rapidly making you chuckle a bit. Pink dusting over her cheeks as you stand between her legs. Cupping her face you rub your thumb across her tattoo, taking in the way she looks. Even in the dark her powder blue eyes sparkle. Her hair can’t help fall slightly in the way of her view. Which in this moment is not something she’s fond of. She wants to see you.

Leaning down, you delicately leave a kiss to her forehead. Grabbing her hand in the process. You pull her up to stand in front of you.

“Turn around.” You muse and she looks at you a little confused, following instructions anyways. The sight of her tattoo covering her back makes you take a deep breath. God she’s so fucking hot. You rub your hands down her back, tracing each line of ink. She shivers slightly under your touch reminding you of what you were doing in the first place. Bending her over, she places her knees and hands down onto the bed and braces herself. Climbing up to bring your pelvis to her ass, you position yourself.

Caressing her hips softly you question “ready?” And you see her nod.

Pushing the tip of the strap in slowly you let her get accustomed to the feeling. A audible moan leaves her and you place a kiss to her back. Finding yourself a rhythm you begin thrusting into her. Slow at first, not to scare her. But then she started begging for it.

“Please! Faster.” She groaned, spreading her legs a bit wider. Which allowed for you to go deeper. Your thighs hitting her ass making as slapping noise echo in the room. But it was hard to hear over the loud whines that escapes her mouth. She can’t help but curse your name as you apply some pressure to her back, making her arch deeper. Holding her hips tightly to secure the motion. Her arms give out and her torso becomes flesh with the sheets. Arms up above her head. She turns slightly back to look at you. Reaching under you start to rub her off while continuing to slam into her.

“Holy shit!” She exclaims trying to hide her face behind her arm, but you stop her.

“Pretty girl, I need you to look at me.” You smile and she moves her arm. Small tears gather in her eyes from the overstimulation on her pussy. You get concerned for a second but when her legs start to twitch a little she practically begs for you to go harder. It only takes a few more pumps before her legs give out and you can feel warmth covering your hand. Easing out of her, you pull out and remove the strap from your hips.

She lays there, body sprawled out across your bed. Her eyes are closed but she has a grin adorning her face. A slight flush on her skin apparent. Quickly placing a kiss to her shoulder, you get up to grab a damp towel. Coming back to sit next to her.

“Come here.” You bring her closer to begin wiping her down. Cleaning her off. She looks up at you with a grin. She puts a hand to your cheek, pulling your lips down to hers. The kiss is gentle and needy. She just wants to feel you. Resting her forehead to yours she sighs.

“You okay?” You question, caressing her arm softly.

“My day just got a whole lot better.”

[moneymartin]

okau i know u already did these but can u do more nsfw hcs for nika???

✧.* - smutty nika hcs

warnings: this whole thing is literally smut sooo… 18+

afab!r

a/n: im havin fun with these ngl… if anything is repeated from the og hcs im sorry!!!! got carried away and some of my thoughts r sprinkled around here

MUNCHHHHHH

she gets off on eating you out i swear

nika got a pussy eater jaw too

i think its because you squeeze your thighs around her head

she likes it

i said this the last time but your pleasure matters more to her than her own

100% a titty girl like i can see it

LOVE LOVE LOVESSS THEM

like during sex she’ll cup them any chance she gets

an ass girl too

stares at em in public w no shame and grabs at your butt when she can 😭

veryyy vocal

lots of huffing and puffing when it comes to her

whiner and whimperer when she hears you getting more comfortable abt the noises you’re making

loves when you moan her name don’t even get me started

grunts too fosho

i think she’d talk in croatian too and it turns you AWNNNNNNNN

“ljubavi” “moj anđele” “dušo” “dobra cura”

dirty talks in croatian too but idk how to translate that.

she’d dom half of the time but if you wanna dom she’ll gladly oblige

strap game is crazy

totally does that thing where she teases you really slowly then js plunges into you

😩😩😩😫

never rough unless asked but if she’s angry or upset she’ll go WILLDDDDD

call me crazy but she’d def like it if you bit…

i think she’d be the hardest teaser ever

esp in public.

if you’re really feeling it when you two are out she can tell

its like her superpower

uses it against you too cs she doesn’t wanna let you get it easy

her fingers are running up and down your thighs and shes always getting sooo close it fucks you up every time

she gets you WET w one touch its actually crazy

if you were touch deprived it’d be even worse too like if she brushed her lips up against you and breathed on your skin js a lil you’d FREEAK

freak as in you’d be SOOOOAKKED

please tell me you guys think she’d wanna film sex tapes

JUST FOR YOU TWO ONLY THO

she a secret freak for those

i think arguments would lead into rlly fucking hot angry sex

but she initiates the intimacy first after bc she knows you’re def not gonna be in the mood to do so

honestly it starts w really small touches to the arm while you two yell back and forth

the next thing you know you two are fucking on the kitchen counter 😭

or she has to literally manhandle you onto the bed and fucks you there instead 🥸

uses the strap durin that too u can’t tell me otherwise

i think if you got really horny in public out of nowhere she’d take care of it for you IMMEDIATELYYYY

the family restrooms.

or the car

CAR SEX IS HER THINGGGGG ALSO

you guys could be in the car while on a roadtrip and she’ll find a way to sneak a hand onto you to make you feel good 🤫

def eats you out in the backseat too

say its your first time

definitely takes it as slowwww as you need her to be

offers to just use her hands or something first so that you get used to it

but if you wanna like go rlly far for the first time she’ll do it for sure as long as you’re comfy

she loves when you touch her abs it turns her on 😫

makes you ride em for sure cs she fucking loves when they’re glistening in your cum

makes you lick it up CLEAN after too w your tongue

WOW WHATS WRONG WITH ME OMG

she’s a switch

power bottom and soft dom

super slow when she tops you

but she lovesss when you’re riding her strap too its her fav thing next to the ab riding

ouhhhh she loves eye contact

her eyes r so beautiful like

they get all predatory when she’s fucking you its so sexy

also when she gives you the fuck me eyes i think she means it in the opposite way

meaning she wants to fuck you

cowgirl is her fav position don’tttt play

again shes a titty girl

she loves looking at them bounce.

she doesn’t bother to get fully undressed cause it shows she cares more about you

okay im done thanks.

[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

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not helping my family pay for hospital bills?

🎷🔥 so i can find it later

This is going to need a lot of context right off the bat. I (20'sM) am a gay man that comes from an extremely conservative family. My sister (20'sF) is also a lesbian and recently got married and adopted a child. I'm very proud of her, but that's not the issue.

My parents seem to have little to no issue with my sister marrying a woman. They do have a very big issue with me liking dudes, however. Like, it was the reason my parents got divorced "big issue." I'm not gonna go into everything, but my sister ended up with my dad and I stayed with my mom for reasons I'd rather not share.

Our last parting was on... less than decent terms. Upon finding out that I was of the homosexual variety, my dad flipped his lid. He called me several slurs and said some other very hurtful things, and even made moves to physically attack me. My mom, also a very homophobic woman, stepped in and thankfully talked him down. Then divorce, etc etc.

I saved up enough money to move out when I turned 18 and may have done some impulsive things including completely trashing my mom's bathroom, which I know I'm definitely the asshole for, but in my defense my mom kept "forgetting" to pick up my prescriptions and I was manic (I have bipolar). But, again, I know I'm the AH for that.

I now live with my two best friends R (20sNB) and P (20sM) in a house we all pay for. R comes from money so they help out a lot, and I love them both to death. We kind of have a sort of situationship but none of us are poly? Idk it's weird we're just going with it rn.

Anyway, I bring them up bc we all went to my sister's wedding together, and my parents separately chewed me out for bringing them (and for R daring to wear a dress. They're amab for context) and I obviously argued back bc hey they're my best friends and my sister specifically said it was okay for me to bring them (she and R are also friends and they wouldve been invited regardless of me bringing P) and also because R looks very good in a dress and i can handle them shit-talking me but i will not tolerate slander towards R or P.

At the wedding, I went full no contact with them and told them to lose my number. They, ofc, did Not lose my number and I got several calls from extended family saying about what you would expect them to say, so I switched numbers and gave only my sister and her wife my new number.

My sister. I love her to pieces but sometimes she gets on my nerves. She gives my number to my mom to have "just in case," but she reassures me that she won't give it to my dad or any other family. So far, she's made good on that promise, I just have to deal with periodic calls about getting a girlfriend and having kids.

Now, my dad isn't the healthiest guy out there. He has arthritis, osteoporosis, and several other things that i don't really wanna get into. As he's aged he's only gotten worse and there have been several times he's almost died, but recently he's been put on hospice and has an estimated Not Very Long to live.

Here's where I may be the AH. My dad calls me while I'm at a very important, personal event for R (he got my number from my mom) and goes on a long rant on how I'm an unlovable disgrace and how he fed me and clothed me and I could make up for all that by helping him pay off hospital debt. I say no immediately and tell him that he's never been my dad, only my dna donor, and that he's going to be dead anyway and that selling his house could cover all the bills. He calls me many more names and tells me he wishes I was never born (calling my mom some very derogatory names too (she's asian)) and that i should just go ahead and off myself to save the world someone like me. I tell him he should die faster while he's at it because God knows the world already has enough bigots in it and there could never be too many mentally ill queers.

I hung up, but now I'm thinking I went a bit too far. AITA for not helping out with his hospital bills and yelling at him?

What are these acronyms?

[m4dm4yhem]

Can you do a fic where miles g aka miles 42 got mad at the black reader for ignoring him as a prank?

˗ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗ - BOREDOM

___________________________________________________

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

pair: m.morales x black! fem! reader

summary: [name] hasn’t always been the brightest when it comes to deciding which pranks she should pull on her boyfriend, but after this.. she definitely learned.

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

_________________________________________________. ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗ [NAME] FELT THAT THE FEELING OF BOREDOM…

was similar to that of a sickness, the teenaged girl thought it might’ve a silent death as well, as boredom can kill or injure many things and many people depending on the actions you taking during those feelings.. friendships, reputation, and sometimes even relationships.. and [name] learned that the hard way..

————————————————————————————

our story takes places on a wednesday morning, [name] was sitting in her second period class, legs crossed, and her head resting on the palm of her right hand while her left hand scrolled through tiktok, where she discovered some sort of ‘ trend ‘ where you ignore your boyfriend for an entire day and then talk to him like nothing happened…

she knew deep down that this was a bad idea, but the urge for anything to entertain her was stronger than her logically side, the girl favorited the video, making a mental note as she continued to scroll down her ‘ for you page’, just as she passed the video her boyfriend, miles texted her

miles 💗: hi mi vida

miles 💗: was wondering if you wanted to go out

miles 💗: like on a date

miles 💗: if no, thats coo. ima swing by regardless

perfect.

it was like this opportunity was given to her on a silver plate, egging her to do it.. like the little devil on her shoulder was whispering in her ear..

“ do it..”

“ it’s just a prank..”

“ do it.”

temptation ate away at her for five straight minutes, before she caved.. she tapped on the notification, it taking her to her messaging app, she started key smashing, to make it look like she was typing on his side of things, before she stopped, deleting it and then exiting out of the messages app.

the response came nearly as soon as she did that.

miles 💗: ???

miles 💗: girl can you answer the question?

read: 11:32am

typing . . .

miles 💗: [name] you getting me real fucked up rn.

miles was the type to get mad first before his logically side kicked in, where he’d rack his brain for everything he’d ever done that may have upset the people around him, so when the next array of messages came and he was apologizing.. [name] wasn’t surprised

miles 💗: mami what I do?

miles 💗: did I upset you?

miles 💗: im sorry if I did, ion mean to make you mad

miles 💗: r u mad cus I said your forehead was mad big?

miles 💗: mami you know I was joking

miles 💗: mami please talk to me

miles 💗: im sorry

miles 💗: I’ll leave you alone.

miles 💗: I love you <3

those set of messages made [name]’s skin crawl with guilt, but she left those messages on read as well. miles didn’t text her back again for a minute, as the hours went by she’d see tiny glimpses of him and he’d glance her way, but she’d turn around and walk the other way before he could come talk to her.

the third time she did this, miles didn’t let her go this easily, he was determined to figure out what was wrong with his girl, he needed to know. what did he do to fuck up this bad?

“ ma .” his tone was soft as he jogged to her side.. no amount of time doing missions as the prowler made it so he could have the stamina to walk by a woman who didn’t want to talk to him.. those women could win the olympics by just walking.. “ what I do? can you please tell me? ion wanna go home with you angry at me and I don’t even know what the problem was..” his voice was barely above a whisper, and he seemed genuinely upset with the fact he was getting ignored by his girlfriend

this was it.. the guilt was eating away at her, she turned to look at him, seeing his eyes were glossy, like he was about to start crying. “ c’mon… mi vida, I can’t lose you.. just speak to me, tell me what I did.” he had a harsh frown on his face as his pace slowed down once [name]’s did, she couldn’t keep up this stupid thing she saw on tiktok anymore, her boyfriend was too sweet and too much of an over thinker when it came to this.

“ nothing.”

“ mami.. don’t say that, just tell me-“

“ no, miles.. im being deadass.. I was just.. bored.”

miles’ look of worry he once had, was now placed with a look of anger and disbelief, he blinked a few times.. holding back the tears he almost let spill at the thought of losing the woman he loves

“ what you mean you was bored?”

if this was anyone else he would’ve said something a little more vulgar.. but his momma raised him better than that.

“ you mean you was playin’ in my face? making me think I did sum to you..?”

hearing her actions broken down to what they truly were made [name] wince before she nodded her head; his dark eyes looking down at her shoes, she heard her boyfriend suck his teeth and mumble about how stupid that was.

“ ‘m sorry, miles.” she gave an awkward shrug of her shoulders as she looked back at him, her eyes showing just how much guilt she had been harboring deep inside her ever since she ignored the first message

“ wow.”

that was all he had to say, as he sniffed, his soft sniff seemed to catch [name]’s attention.. god, he was about to cry? miles was always crazy about her, and always making sure they was good.. remembering all of this only made her hurt squeeze with remorse.

“ so..you was just playing with my feelings.. cause you was bored.. do you know how much that affected me? i thought you was gon’ break up wit me, [name]!” his words were like razors in her heart as she listened to him spill out his frustrations

“ …bro. that shit won’t cool, what the hell.. you had me thinking shit was bad, yo..” miles shook his head, he narrowed his eyes at his girlfriend, who had her arms around her body, who was staring down at the ground.. and who’s lashes were getting wet with tears

“ ‘m sorry.”

her voice cracked as she spoke, and she blinked.

the tear ran down her face, it was big and fat as she looked at him for a moment, their eyes meeting and his softening in nearly an instant

“ mami…” he let out a sigh, one of frustration mixed with anger

“ that prank wasn’t.. cool or nothing.. I’m mad right now. so ima chill off you for a minute, this don’t mean we breaking up.. we just…on a break.. not one of those ones which is an excuse to cheat.. im your man and you my girl, but I need like.. a break to reset, I’m mad right now.. don’t mean ima be mad forever, okay?

even though she hurt him, he was still willing to put his feelings aside.. for her..

god why did she do this stupid prank, her heart was in her stomach, and her whole body hurt.. but she nodded

“ okay..”

she owed him this little bit of space, it wasn’t gonna be forever

[weebsinstash]

I wanna be best buds with Lucifer. All my brain cells r now fixated on the short munchkin dressed like a haunted puppet with depression who CLEARLY needs a new passion project in his life.

Depressed Dad is clearly in need of something or someONE to kick him out of his depression funk. Y/N could be just the ESA he needs. The hell equivalent of those little marimo moss balls parents buy for kids who are too irresponsible to remember to feed fish.

What I'm saying is, the platonic yandere potential is off the charts. We go to Valentino to get hungover and fucked, but we go to Luci for a hangover cure and a comfy couch to crash on.

Honestly I was thinking of something, like

Lucifer just wants to assume everyone down there is the worst, but imagine he comes to the Hotel to see Charlie and Reader is there as a guest and, SOMETHING happens

Like I was imagining it would be really cute if Lucifer's first visit to the Hotel went significantly worse and Charlie and him are arguing and Reader is the one who tries to help them make amends. Constantly fighting the feminine urge to put musicals in these fucking fics or posts but you wind up singing a tune about how WAIT, please don't go, the two of them have to make up, and clearly he's a good person and an even better dad because CHARLIE is like rhe nicest sweetest bestest person you've ever met

and then after you're done Charlie is like BAWLING like when Angel forgave her, just grabbing you and her Dad, "this is the first time they've saaaaang, they've been too shy and they did it for US, that's so beautiful!!!" just like HARD CRYING and you're basically like Honorary Child 2 at that point

I can just. mmm, imagine if you knew Val first and then befriended the Morningstars. Valentino tries to force you to do something one day and you're just like, picking up your phone, staring Val dead in the face as you text someone. FIVE MINUTES LATER, there's a knock to the door of the set, and you rush to open it, and everyone starts losing their fucking MIIIINDS as LUCIFER HIMSELF walks in

You give Valentino a grin that would have made a demon proud as if to say "fucking try me bitch" before turning back to Lucifer, "heeeeeey short king! I'm sorry for messaging out of the blue but I missed you! Hey, i think my friend Mr Valentino was about to like, give me a job or something?"

Lucifer's just all, "oh, you mean like working the lights or, helping mop the floors cause, I don't think that suits a young lady/man/whatever like yourself!"

Like can you imagine Val was having you read some AWFUL like NAAAAASTY script before Luci came in and it's still in his hand and you point at it, "hey isn't that it right there?" And Valentino and potentially even Vox have to SCRAMBLE, "No no not at all, this is, uh, my laundromat receipt!" *shoves the entire booklet into a nearby shark demon's mouth

Lucifer is standing there being, kinda judgy like he was with Charlie's hotel but otherwise being friendly and YOURE the one being the "silent" menace. Valentino is GRINDING his teeth, "soooo, Mr Morningstar, sir, big fan, excellent work, uh, what can we do for you?" And you're just slinging an arm around THE DEVIL "oh, me and him were gonna go grab lunch and I was maybe gonna crash at his daughter's new place where Mr Lucifer here is gonna be visiting all the time. You don't mind right?" and Vox has to step in and answer "yeah, sure no problem!!!" because Valentino is about to devolve into nothing but furious squeaking

This is an idea I'm prolly gonna wind up using for a platonic Husker thing but, Reader having an abusive childhood and Lucifer becomes aware that YOUR dad was a mean piece of shit, definitely down in Hell too or previously exterminated, and Lucifer just finds you like DRUNK IN THE GUTTER, "I'm a looooooser just like my dad". Like. Yandad Luci here is probably the type where he sees you having ONE bad hangover and he's concrete convinced you're a hardcore alcoholic and need rehab STAT. Which may be true but what I'm saying is is that, he sees you at your weakest ONCE and he's suddenly like "Oh no, duckling! cmon, let, uh, let ... Daaaaaad help you? 🥺" and you find out his idea of help is like. Extremely well intentioned but horribly well executed as he's over here, "you know what helps MY depression? Inventing things in my workshop" and you look around to 4000 versions of the same rubber duck and you're like "s so.... is it working" and he just emphatically declares "No! :D but I think it's getting a little better with you here!" and your fate is fucking sealed and wait until Lilith moseys on back into town and finds the "savior" of her goofy little husband and best bud of her daughter and now you've got every Morningstar on your side in totally The Most Normal Ways Possible :)

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

Finallyyyyyyy finished my first little one shot!! This is somewhat different from what I normally write so I’m definitely a little nervous to post this! But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Who Did This to You?

Julien Baker x Reader

Description: y/n is in an abusive relationship and is pushed to her limits. Julien has been one of her best friends for years and has been trying to keep it a secret from her. That is until she has no clue who else to turn to.

Contains: hurt x comfort trope, fluff, graphic depictions of injuries and and graphic discussions of abuse. please please please read with caution!!

Word Count: 3k

I was going to fall into a ditch and break every last bone in my body if I wasn’t careful enough… hypothermia to boot, a mildly beat up face was going to be the least of my worries. But I wasn’t exactly sure what else to do. It felt like any second dangerous headlights were going to pull up over my shoulder and give me even more to really cry about. My dorm wasn’t safe either. She could find it. And once she realized I wasn’t coming back for a while she most definitely would.

The monsoon couldn’t have come at a worst time. Oh Gods, it was freezing, the biting rain slamming into my bruised eye and busted lip. Still I peddled like my life depended on it to the one place I knew I would be safe. Julien’s place, my best friend… the best friend I had been hiding this massive secret from for the past few… months?? Years even?? It was hard to remember whenever the abuse got to that extent. Google called it disassociative amnesia, but I wondered if the head injuries had anything to do with it.

I couldn’t remember if she had ever made me fear for my life before. My girlfriend. The one I should’ve been running to to comfort me right now, the one who never should’ve rose a hand to this extent. Most things I could brush off, excuse with her temper or her own trauma, etc etc… tonight was different though. Tonight felt like nothing but a streamline of breaking things, hitting, kicking, screaming, insult after insult after insult. Fuck what could I have done to push her like that?

Julien lived in an off campus apartment, a cozy one bedroom with autumn themed lights that seemed to shine from the windows all year long. I almost cried from relief whenever I saw the beacon of hope, my legs shaking as I didn’t hesitate to slam the bike into the rack and loosely wrap the chain around it. Not like I cared if it got stolen at this point. One foot in front of the other… I can do this. One foot… one foot… one foot.

“Julien?” I echoed, blinking away the rain as I gave the door a shaking knock. It felt so hard to stay awake, like I was going to hit the ground any second as I heard footsteps from the other side of the door. “Julien, please…”

“Hang on, hang on, I’m coming!” I heard the locks click out of place, swaying on my feet before the door swung open with a start. “H-Holy shit… y/n what happened to you? You’ll catch your death out there.”

“I-I don’t wanna soak your apartment, I’ll change.” I stammered through chattering teeth as she didn’t hesitate to usher me inside, my clothes soaked through from the rain and dripping all over her clean floors. I admittedly didn’t think this through all the way, the only thing that had been on my mind at the time was escape. Fight or flight. Like if I stayed any longer she wasn’t going to let me survive the night.

“I don’t care about any of that right now, love.” I faintly heard her speaking through layers and layers of white noise. My feet leaving the floor like I was nothing more than a rag doll. A touch that wasn’t rough for once, but the worse part about those were the winces that came from every tender spot that had been sparked since then. “Let’s get you changed and I’ll get my shoes on and we can get you to a hospital, okay?”

“N-No, no hospital!” I immediately protested, a sentence of words never making me light up so quickly as my eyes widened.

“Y/n, you could have a major head injury right now. Don’t fight me on this.” She kept pushing, and I knew she would. In fact I even had loads of vague arguments I had dreamed up to prove her that this was in fact, not the best course of action to take right now. But they had all departed somewhere between the rain outside and the pain that felt like it was coursing through my entire body.

“Please… Julien.” I choked out, my hand wrapping around her shoulder as if in some attempt to hold myself up more. “Please.”

“If something happened to you because I didn’t take you to the hospital whenever you needed it then I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“If I’m not doing any better in a few hours then you can take me but… no… no hospital right now. P-Please, please Julien.” I didn’t realize how badly my voice was shaking until I actually heard it. Past traumas of other hospital visits and the prying questions of police officers wondering what I could’ve possibly done to provoke her to that extent. The theatrics she always managed to put on, how she wasn’t ‘in a good headspace’ or ‘taking her medication right now’… and so on so on so on. It was always what I could have done. Never her.

The pleading must have worked though as I saw Julien’s own reserves start to crack. Brown eyes seeming to study every cut and bruise on my face as she placed me a top her bathroom counter. And I watched her worry turn into pure rage. “Who did this to you?” She questioned, breath hitching in her throat as she busied herself with finding a dry pair of clothes and a towel. So she herself didn’t end up flying off the handle as well I presumed.

“I… I just-“ I started searching my brain for another excuse, another lie, anything to brush it off like I always did. Like it was an instinct almost. But I think even I knew on my way over here there wasn’t any other way to cover this up. “She got so mad and I-”

“I know.” Her words were soft, much calmer than I expected them to be as she wrapped a warm towel around my quivering shoulders before setting a folded pair of dry clothes next to me. And I hadn’t even needed to say anything. “Thank you… for telling me, love.” Her gentle hands felt soothing on my aching face, brushing away stray tears and raindrops. She didn’t press the issue further after that, she didn’t pry or ask difficult questions. Her biggest concern in that moment seemed to be taking care of me… which almost didn’t even feel real after so long of the opposite from someone else. “Do you need help changing or do you want me to stay?”

The question almost made me bristle, the introduction of boundaries I wasn’t quite used to as she took a cautious step to the door. I did need help, I know I did. Every inch of my body hurt and shivered from the cold. But was I already crossing the said boundaries by asking her to help? My girlfriend would find some way to blame it on me, or at least some way to deflect the blame from herself.

‘I knew you always had feelings for her. Of course you ran to her the second things got too hard.’

‘You were the one who chose to walk out. This is your fault.’

Your fault… your fault… your fault.

I didn’t even feel the sob coming until I heard it tearing through my voice. Racking through my whole body as I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes until colorful dots danced across them. “Hey… hey, baby, breathe, I’m gonna help you okay? It’s gonna be okay.”

“She’s gonna be so mad at me.” I stammered, only to feel Julien’s hands wrapping around my wrists as carefully as she could before prying my hands from my eyes.

“Fuck her, y/n. She doesn’t get access to you anymore, okay? If you wanna be done, then be done with her. Damn all of the excuses, the blame, all of it, I don’t give a shit what she was feeling or if she’s taking her medication or not. Fuck her. She is never going to lay another finger on you again, okay?” Her words almost took me aback, blinking away tears while she cupped my face in her warm and comforting hands. The first gentle touch I had had in a while it felt like.

“Now let me get you out of these wet clothes and take care of you, okay?” It felt almost impossible to say yes, to nod my head and let her do what she needed to. But I did. An agreement that almost felt like a collapse. I couldn’t afford to keep running out of that house and stitching up the wounds myself anymore. I didn’t want the strength of sticking it out. I wanted to be cared for. I wanted softness and security. Something my girlfriend could’ve never provided from me.

I let her peel the wet clothes from my body, immediately tossing the sopping fabric into her tub before enveloping me in a towel to dry off and protect my modesty. Her clothes felt oversized and warm, still lightly dusted with her cologne that I always felt myself picking up every time I came over here with her joking it was too expensive to share. She never even took one look at me as I was changing, never stole one greedy peak even as she pulled the shirt over my head.

“This might sting a little.” She whispered as she wet the edge of a piece of gauze. Immediately I sucked in a breath of pain as she pressed it to the light scratches that slashed into my cheek. Harboring a small wince of pain as I brought my hand upwards to rest on top of hers where it currently held my chin. Something that almost felt instinctual for a moment before I flushed and drew it away.

“S-Sorry… I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it’s okay.” She shook her head, gentle fingers seeming to overtake mine as she slid them through the little gaps. “You can hang onto me as much as you need to.” She whispered, continuing to dot the wounds with antiseptic and gauze. It still hurt but for some reason looking into her eyes seemed to diminish it. She was just so so delicate with all of her moves, soft taps and gentle brushes. Delicacy and warmth I wasn’t quite used to anymore but I missed so severely.

“I just… don’t understand,” She finally muttered after a moment of silence. Those same little elevens that creeped in between her brows whenever she was concentrating hard on something. “how someone could ever do this to somebody like you.”

“I probably provoked her.” I whispered, always finding some way to shift the blame.

“I doubt you could’ve done anything that would’ve ever warranted this.” She shook her head once more, hands still wrapping and squeezing my own like it was a miracle I was even still here. And if I hadn’t gotten away whenever I did it probably would’ve been. “Promise me… please promise me, y/n, you won’t see her anymore.”

I didn’t even notice the tears rolling down my cheeks until I felt her warm hands brushing them away again. Cupped around my bruised cheek before they could even fall, “I don’t know how to leave somebody I’m scared of… how- how to leave the only thing I’ve ever known.”

“I know, love.” She sighed, a soothing touch running along my knuckles. “So let me help you… let- let all of us help you. I’ll go back to the apartment with you to get all of your things and- and you can even stay here until you feel safe again.”

“And if I don’t ever feel safe again?” I questioned, my voice cracking around the words before I could feel a sob breaking through them. Her arms felt like a protective shield though as they finally enclosed around me, a tear soaked face being pressed to her shoulder as she held me.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make room for you.” She whispered, hands rubbing soothing circles on my back as she did so. “Say yes? Please? Say you’ll let me help you.”

My whole body felt like lead slumped against her, taking in her warm scent as she held me up the whole time. I didn’t think she’d give me a choice in the grand scheme of things. Throughout our whole lives of being friends I had always viewed Julien as a protector of sorts. I couldn’t remember a single time that I hadn’t felt so safe around her. So welcoming. So… the opposite of what I had been given before.

It felt like it took every ounce of strength left in me just to nod, but I did just that, my weak arms clutching onto her to the very best of my ability. “Thank you… for everything.” My words still trembled though I tried to keep them strong.

I felt the careful brush of her lips against my hairline before she lifted me from the counter with ease. Holding me like some knight in shining armor would as my eyes fluttered and drifted off against her shoulder. “Always, love.” She whispered, carrying me through the bedroom to settle me against the king sized bed, satin sheets so much more comfortable than mine or, well, my ex now I presumed, could’ve ever been. I was too tired to protest as I curled up to the mound of pillows, burying my face into the silky fabric as I took in the lavender scent of her detergent. “Let me get you some ice and I can take the couch tonight.”

Those words had my eyes darting open however, a hand jutting out to grip her hand and keep her from slipping off. “No, please… stay, Julien please.” I echoed the plea once more as I slipped my fingers around her wrist, and I could nearly feel her pulse hammering against them.

“I- I just didn’t wanna be disrespectful or-”

“You won’t- I- I trust you.” I managed a weak smile, almost tempted to reach out with both hands with every flair of melodramatics I could. Anything to keep her from leaving. “I’m okay with it.”

Julien hesitated much too long, a pause that almost left my heart clenching with failure and my body shaking with dread. Her nod felt like a million pounds off of my shoulders though as she nodded and pressed her lips to my forehead for the millionth time. Each little kiss feeling like they were washing away every trace of the headache I had remaining.

“Okay darling, I think I can do that.” She said with a soft breath, a tiny breath hitching in my throat as I watched her lifting my hand upwards to the same soft lips she kept laying against my head. “Just let me know… if I get carried away.”

“Okay.” I whispered, my tiny smile only growing as I watched her exit the room. Maybe a part of me had always felt something for her? Maybe in some way it was considered infidelity to its core? But was it in the way she looked or the way she treated me? I don’t think I had seen the girl be mean to a single person unless she felt like someone she loved was in danger. She was always the one holding me after fights with my now ex. Always the one telling me the things she consistently said wasn’t true. That I wasn’t crazy. She was gentle and kind whenever nobody else was. Maybe that was why I felt anything at all.

“I’m putting a wallflower in because if I light a candle now we might fall asleep with it lit and… you know.” She chuckled weakly, setting what looked like a glass of water and a plate on the tv stand.

“Yeah… fire- I get it.” I spoke with a little snicker of my own as she trotted closer. My eyebrows then scrunching together at the contents of the plate. Two Tylenols and a couple ice packs, as if she knew that I’d need more than one.

“Do you wanna watch anything? Or- I can make something to eat if you’re hungry?” Her eyes were wide and innocent, trying her hardest to think of anything she possibly could to help.

“No, I think I’m okay right now. It already feels so hard to keep my eyes open.” I shook my head, watching her frown and nod as she crawled into bed.

“I get it.” She stated, eyes trailing on me as she watched me swallow down the pills and attempt to lean forward to place the ice pack on my ankle. Though I couldn’t help but let out a small yelp of pain as I tried to force myself up to a sitting position.

“Here… let me.” Julien darted forward, eyes going wide in worry as she did so.

“I’m sorry.” I replied with a sucked in breath of pain, inching backwards to lay back down as carefully as I could. Groaning ever so slightly as I placed the other pack against my head.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” She denied with a quick shake of her head as she lounged back on the pillows with a hand propped behind her head. “Do you wanna lay on me?” She questioned, as if already noticing the expectant look in my eyes as my cheeks flushed in mild embarrassment.

“Is… that weird?” I wondered sheepishly, catching my bottom lip in between my teeth.

“Nah, get over here.” She smiled that same soothing smile that always, without fail, made me feel like everything would be okay. Even if it felt like it wasn’t even close right now.

She let me curl up to her like a cocoon, placing my head on her chest as her careful and safe arms wrapped back around me. Rubbing the same soft circles on my back like she did before. And I think in that moment I would’ve done anything to never have to leave. “I’ve got you, y/n. No matter what, I’ve always got you.”

[thesupreme316]

Heyyyyy I just came up with this but headcanons with the boys if their so is in college and has a bunch of missing work how and how they would deal with it (not like this is related to me rn totally DONT have have 20+ missing assignments that r do Thursday😮‍💨) if not that’s fine I just needing something to do so I felt like I was being productive cuz I don’t feel like doing work in my week off. Thought I’d submit ideas for writers so I’d be doing smt!

AEW STARS React to: Their S/O In College (and Taking Finals)

Pairings: Nick Wayne x Reader, Darius Martin x Reader, Hook x Reader, Dante Martin x Reader, Christian Cage x Reader, MJF x Reader, Eddie Kingston x Reader, Wheeler Yuta x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Supreme Speaks: hey yall, finals kicked my butt, but we back and packed up in here! to this lovely anon, i hope you got everything done and passed with flying colors (ik i struggled). but anyways, please remember that you are loved and appreciated, and also that you are more than a gpa.

Warnings: none i think, grammarly wasn't working so barely proofread, no gifs as tumblr don't wanna work rn

Taglist: @hooks-martin @sheinthatfandom @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @eddie-kingstons-wifey @hookerforhook @batzy-watzy @wwenhlimagines

i totally forgot to add my beautiful besties my bad

Nick Wayne

Hahaha He is the last person you should be going to for help

If anything, Nick believes that you should just leave it alone and just be in candy land with him

But he knows how hard it is for you and how important it is

So he’ll try his best to help you actually do the assignments

Like you two split up how much work you have and he does half the assignment

I think he would find it fun; pulling all nighters in the library and doing work with their S/O until like 4 am

Every night would be a new adventure

Would let you review the work before you submit it

But anything science-related

Don’t ask him shit

I see him as more of a math person

Darius Martin

I see Darius definitely as a liberal arts or literature person

Like he can edit your papers (he’s your personal chat gpt)

I think Darius would help you by creating a schedule

Like when you need to get stuff done by

BUT

He takes it a step further by allocating time limits for each assignment

Like you can only work on assignment 1 for an hour and 30 minutes each day

Something tells me he is particular with schedules

Darius will keep you on track as if he’s getting paid for it

“Y/N, your break ended 3 minutes ago. LETS GO”

Will definitely help you with researching topics cause that takes a while

Don’t ask him shit about math

Dante Martin

Doesn’t particularly understand what you are going through

But nonetheless he hates that he doesn’t see you as much anymore

I can see him just giving you gifts and words of encouragement

Will tutor you if you need help…but realize that this is not high school science

“You mean there is more than Chemistry I? CHEMISTRY VI? ORGANIC-“

He soon gives up

Stays up with you and drags you away from work if needed

IMAGINE DANTE SAYING “COME TO BED BABY” OMG MY HEART

Will help you with assignments like Nick

Will reward you for all your hard work (wink wink)

Tries to distract you and give you moments for fun/relaxation

After the dust is settled, he’s just happy that you are out of the shackles of academia and you two can hang out stress-free

Hook

MANS IS NOT BOTHERED WITH YOUR BULLSHIT

Has the constant “I told you to start on these assignments earlier” look on his face

If anything he will just supply you with food, energy drinks, and emotional support

But if you thing this man will give you any type of physical help

YOU ARE LYIN TO YOURSELF SWEETHEART

Will secretly complain about your lack of self care or wishing he could actually help in Italian

Fancanon: Hook can speak Italian

If he thinks you have been working too much

He will save your work and shut your laptop down

Will make sure you did everything on your checklist before turning the assignments in

If you need him to print stuff off, just ask, he’ll do it

Unless it’s 1 am…then he’s telling you to take your ass to sleep

Wheeler Yuta

Okay, this man can actually help you

WITH HIS CUTE ASS GLASSES

He truly understands what you are going through as he used to be in your shoes

Mans will tutor you until you are smarter than him

Loves helping you with history and shit

“No the War of 1812 didn’t happen in 1937”

Gives you helpful study and test-taking tips

Tries to make you drink healthy caffeinated drinks not Monsters or Red Bulls

Believes they are the devil and will slap them out of your hands

“What did I say? Red Bull gives you horns, not wings…no not horns for being horny”

Will give you little trinkets or treat you out to dinner when you complete your assignments/exams

He just wants you to remain healthy during this stressful time

Christian Cage

I feel like if anything Christian is a professor…with the way he be schooling those-

He’s probably very knowledge in various subjects

He just does them the old-fashioned way

“What the hell is this?…Whatcha mean this is the new way?”

But if anything he’ll adapt to it, just trying to help you

I HAVE A THEORY that he’ll stay up reading the next chapter or the directions for your next assignment and tries to figure out ways to make the process easier

So the next day you walk out to the table and you see the parts of your project laid out and labeled

“I know it’s a lot but we break it up like this, you should be able to complete by tomorrow”

Christian takes pictures of you two so he can look back and bring up times like the Vietnam war

Makes you take breaks, in which he’ll work in your place

When you get your grade back, it’s yalls grade

not yours

MJF

Straight up pays for a tutor/homework helper

But stays in the room and yells at them cause you are still confused and behind

I mean this in the nicest way

Max is no damn help

He is laughing at you while he’s putting on his scarf

“Imagine doing homework to get a little paper for a job! That’s what you get for not being born rich”

Will post you on instagram and claim that homework and exams are to test idiots

But will quickly change his tune when you place a physics worksheet in front of him

“WHY IS THE GREEK ALPHABET HERE?”

Issues you a public apology and vows to never make fun of you again

If anything MJF supplies you with emotional support, letting you know that your feelings are valid

Will buy you new shoes or something massive for surviving and passing everything

Eddie Kingston

Now when I say don’t ask him anything

DON’T ASK HIM ANYTHING! HE’LL JUST SAY

“Doll, imma be real, I have a GED. I dunno shit”

He can only laugh from afar and say “glad I don’t have to do that shit”

But if you ask him anything about English or Shakespeare, he got you

Will recite random Shakespeare quotes to provide entertainment

I think he proofreads your papers to ensure they make sense

I do think he can help with researching and giving you credible websites

Other than that, his designated role is paper weight or waterboy

He believes your every word when you groan about school

That’s all he can do but you don’t complain about it

After he loves you and you love him

[j4desblurbs]

SIERRA SIX SMUT ALPHABET

what not having any motivation does to a mf…..anyway have this while i try to work on another fic!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

the first thing six will do is check in on you, ask how you’re feeling, if you’re sore, stuff like that. then he’ll run you a bath or shower if you want it and get you a glass of water. he’s sweet that way.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

six likes his partners hands, because he’s been neglected on the comforting touch front and now that he’s got it, it’s like heaven. he also likes his hands because he is so used to using his hands to hurt, rather than to love. they also look good gripping your hips.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

i think six would really like to cum inside you, and he loves to make you cum multiple times if you can.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

hair pulling, i will not elaborate further.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

six knows the basics, but based on the books, he doesn’t have too much experience due to his rigorous training with the CIA.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

because you are very important to him, any position where he can see your face is his favorite. although he enjoys bending you over.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

six is definitely on the more serious side, but he’s not opposed to cracking a joke or two.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

intimacy is important to six because he’s so used to being without it. because of this, he tries to be as romantic as possible.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

six does not masturbate often, if at all. he much prefers real sex.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

in connection to the cum thing, i think six might have a slight breeding kink. something about getting you pregnant speaks to him. he also loves to worship your body.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

it’s mostly the bed or the shower for him. he’s done it in the kitchen before though.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

your reactions to what he does are key. whether it’s big or small, if you like something, he really gets riled up. additionally, you initiating intimacy is a big turn on for him too.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

six would never do something that would hurt you. being so used to pain, he doesn’t want his partner to become like that too.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

six definitely prefers to give rather than receive. because he’s not too experienced, his skill is alright, but he seems much more skilled than he actually is.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

six can get pretty rough, but his pace is mostly steady.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

six isn’t a fan of quickies. i think intimacy is big for him, so he’d definitely want to take more time with it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

i think six is pretty average with risks. he’s game for whatever you wanna try, but i don’t think he’s too adventurous in the bedroom.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

six can go for a few rounds, i’d say maybe 6 at most. he’s got a pretty high stamina due to his training.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i really don’t see six being a toy person. it just doesn’t fit him. if you want to use one though, he’s not opposed.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

six will tease you from time to time, but he also loves getting straight to it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

six isn’t very loud naturally, mostly just a few grunts and moans here and there, but when he’s really into it he gets a little more vocal.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

i think six would want to be a bottom at some point. at his core he just wants to be taken care of, and it’s nice to have someone take charge for once.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

six has a pretty average sex drive, but it definitely builds up if he’s been away from you for long.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i think he will definitely make sure you’re all settled and wait for you to fall asleep before he does.

[juliasturnz]

“My teenage dream”

🜸 - this fanfic is requested again, @monroesturnns !! Make sure to follow her!♥️

★ - summary:

you and Chris haven’t been more then just friends.. you always had a crush on him, later that night you and Chris have a really deep conversation and some things don’t go as planned.

༆ - warnings!:

kissing, cussing, slightly sexual touch and use of alcohol (lmk if there is something else that triggers u!)

✫彡 - writers note :)

hi guys i just wanted to thank you all for the nice comments and follows, it means alooott thank you again 💖

★ - other role again!:

good friend chloe.. Good friend? Idrk she is js the type to leave you behind at a party..

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

You are going to this huuuge party, it’s so exiting but you haven’t been to a party in a long time so you have no idea what to expect.

You are wearing something that will make a guy completely crazy.. a mini dress and your ass-cheeks are slightly visible. You’d always love to dress that way and you still do, but this old friend of yours is organizing it, he has always been nice to me but something is just feeling different.

Chloe has been texting you nonstop, ‘stop fucking texting me, oh my god!’ You say when she send you at least more then 10 messages. She has been telling you about the party for a hour long, ‘I’m getting ready rn I’ll be there in a half hour.’ You send her a voice message, I don’t feel like typing rn bc the black wand from my mascara is basically glued in my hands. Even when you send a voice message she just ignores you and talks further about boys and again the party.

When you finally type ‘I’m done’ to your yapping friend she finally stops talking, ‘okay I’ll be there in 20 minutes!’ She yells through a voice message. Your phone finally has been stop going off, until a familiar number pops up it’s Chris. You are texting with him while your doing your last things like putting on a perfume, checking your bag if you have everything and a few things more. Only a little time was left and he asks you if you want to face time.

‘Hey Chris, how r you!’ You act like you haven’t been talking the last 10 minutes, you kinda forget how well you guys went along and he basically starts acting with you ‘oh I haven’t spoken you in a long time y/n how are you?’ He looks at you through the phone with a little grin right before you two start busting out laughing. ‘Do you wanna take a little shot before the party?’ he asks you with a smile on his face. You take a good look at his face, hm he hasn’t changed a lot only his hair. You catch yourself looking at his blue eyes through the screen. ‘Oh wow.’ You cover your mouth when you realize you said that out loud. ‘Huh? Is there something wrong?’ He looks at you with a confused face and give you a little smile. Oh fuck do you think he noticed. Before you freak out and just stand there in silence you hear a ring from the doorbell. ‘I-I am sorry Chloe is here I’ll see you at the party bye!’ ‘Oh uh bye!’ I really hope I didn’t make thing weird.

Before you could even open the door someone has been screaming on the streets ‘hurry up we gotta go!’ You hear her high pitched voice so you hurry up before she starts yelling. ‘On my way!’ I think she heard me at least I hope so.

when you arrive at the front door she’s already speaking about the party and the fact that we have to hurry even though we had about 10 minutes left. ‘Can you hurry? We need to go there quick!’ ‘Chloe we have literally 10 mi’- she interrupts you immediately ‘no? We need to hurry like right now!’ ‘Girl calm down’ you whisper to yourself, you definitely don’t want her to hear what you were saying, bc that would 100% cause drama.

you put on one last time your favorite cologne and again deodorant and leave the house with Chloe talking about boys once again. ‘Girl you need a man in your life, you’re kinda boring.’ She casually says and turns around to your face completely in shock. What did she just say? ‘You heard me, we are going to find you a man tn.’ ‘What I don’t n’- once again she cuts you off

The rest of the car ride y’all stay silent which is surprising, normally Chloe would be either talking shit, brag about her “amazing” boyfriend or either talk about parties.

You arrive at Chris’ big house, ‘dang this mf has a big house!’ You stand right in front of a big mansion with already drunk teenagers in the front yard and the sound of music that hits your ears. ‘This is gonna be amazing!!!!’ Chloe is literally screaming. You just follow her in silence to the front door.

Before you could even ask her a thing she is already standing with her “amazing” boyfriend and her other friends, you look around to find someone to talk to bc no way your going to be standing with them. You look around and catch a glance from someone across the room and the someone is Chris. He looks so good, even tho he only wears a pair of baggy pants, a see through blouse with a light blue tie. Just perfect. He catches you looking at him and walks over to you. He is only a few inches away from you when you start apologizing right away, he makes you nervous. ‘Look I’m so sorry about what happened when we’- ‘shhh it’s okay, don’t think about it too much. I know you stared at my eyes,’ ‘well yes your eyes are pretty gorgeous.’ You look at him with a little shy but a naughty smile on your face. ‘Should we take that shot then?’ You follow him into the kitchen.

It isn’t really busy in here, but you’ve never seen this much red plastic cups around you. Chris catches your looking around mostly at the amount of red cups that are just laying around. ‘Please don’t mind this fucking mess.’ He kinda looks disappointed, ‘the way you said that sounds promising.’ You grin at his face still scanning almost every cup. ‘Anyways should we do 3 vodka shots?’ ‘Sounds good to me.’ You give him a warm smile as he fills the fancy shot glasses.

He hands you the pretty full shot glasses and looks at you and says ‘to the pretty woman in front of me.’ You blink twice, did he really said that oh my god. ‘You heard me.’ You giggle at his reaction and let the strong drink fall back into your throat. ‘This shit is disgusting.’ ‘Do you want a martini? I can make one for you.’ ‘Oh okay mr bartender.’ He giggles at your reaction.

You drink your martini while he has just a casual Pepsi, ‘so what brings you here tonight?’ He looks up at you with a very flirtatious look, ‘tbh like actually, even though my “friend” dragged me into here.. you.’ You keep looking at his now lightened up eyes. You can’t help but stare at them for a while. He interrupts your intense look, ‘wait what do you mean “friend”?’ He always seems to aks you things in a deeper level, something always felt connected between the two of you. Well she’s just idk not really my friend idk what she is.’ He gives you a worried look, ‘it’s okay I’m here.’ He lays his hand on your shoulder, what makes you tingle by his touch. ‘Thank you.’ ‘Ofcourse anytime.’ your curiosity bottles up ‘why did you even invite Chloe in the first place, not to be rude but she isn’t nice at all.’ ‘Oh my god is your “friend” Chloe?’ ‘Yeah I guess, why?’ ‘She cheated on me.’ He blurred out. ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to bring i’- you’re being interrupted by her storming into the kitchen. ‘Ugh I need more drinks,’ she looks everything but sober. ‘Oh no here come Chloe you need to rest.’ Chris helps you with her, you bring her upstairs to a free bedroom. ‘What a surprise.’ He stands in the doorway after he helped you let her lay down in a strangers bed, kind of waiting for you and watching you while you tuck Chloe into a strangers bed. ‘I’m so sorry about what she did.’ You turn your face to his face. ‘You don’t have to be sorry about this, but why are you even her friend, she’s such a dumbass.’ ‘She helped me through a rough time, but she became popular and she forgot about me.’ ‘Damn I’m sorry.’ He walks up to you and give you a hug out of nowhere. ‘It felt like you needed one.’ You sink into his shoulder and start sobbing out of thin air. ‘Hey hey, your okay your here with me come.’ He takes you to the bathroom to help you fix your perfectly done makeup.

‘You are really pretty you know that.’ You couldn’t focus on anything rn but his pink lips. ‘Oh your needy.’ He gives you a whole different tone. He leans into a kiss. You kiss him back right away. His hands fall on your waist and moves down to your thighs and while he squeezes them just the slightest bit. This was the best kiss you probably ever had. There is going so much through your head rn, “his lips are so soft” “he smells so good” “his lips taste just like vanilla” when you stop the most perfect kiss ever, you kind of wake up again. ‘You are a really good kisser mr bartender.’ You would never said this in any universe, it might be the drinks you had or the strong confidence you got while you were around him. ‘Am I? Should we get another drink then?’ You follow him to the kitchen again.

you surprisingly hold his hand while you walk through the dancing, drunk or smoking people. But trust me you definitely got eyes on you. When you and Chris reach the kitchen you fall back into the cheating topic, your friend. ‘And then she just cheated on me.’ You catch a little tear that flows down his cheek. ‘I’m so sorry Chris, you honestly don’t deserve that.’ You get of the barstool and hug him tight and go with your fingers through his soft hair. ‘Do you wanna take a walk or smth?’ He removes his head from your shoulder. You nod right away, ‘don’t you got to focus on what’s happening inside of here?’ Your kind of worried someone might literally burn the house down. ‘They’ll be alright the most of them are drunk anyway or Nick and Matt will take care of it, I hope so.’ he shrugs his shoulders and takes a Pepsi. ‘Oh okay then, should we go?’ ‘Yes.’ He sticks his hand out and you and you hold his hand while you walk out of the front door, holding each others hand.

He takes you to a small beach just at the end of the block, ‘it’s beautiful here!’ You can’t help but keep looking around even though it’s already night. ‘I know right, this place brings me so much peace.’ You and Chris are still holding hands, he looks down at the hands holding each other and slightly squeezes your hand. He gives you that one smile you missed a lot. ‘I love your smile so much.’ His cheeks turn slightly pink in the bright moonlight. ‘Should we just sit down and talk, I just wanted to get away from those people. I don’t know why I invited the half of those people. I didn’t wanna be rude yk?’ ‘Trust me I know. He lets his hand go while you nod at his first question. You keep on knowing exactly what he means in different scenarios, ‘I know exactly what you mean.’ You can’t help but keep on saying.

You are having such a great time with Chris, you missed this a lot. You reach the topic from the friendship between you two. ‘I really missed this,’ he looks at you with a sudden serious look. He is speaking exactly what you thought not even 20 min ago. ‘I really did too.’ He looks at your lips and kisses you once again. ‘Y/n I really love you, but I can’t keep you on a friend level. You make me so happy, you know me on a different level and I feel so co’- you interrupt him what kinda makes you feel bad bc those words were so beautiful. ‘I wanna be your girlfriend Chris. Your little speech was so beautiful btw.’ That makes him giggle a bit. And he kisses you in the bright moonlight at the beach once again.

🜸 -

Hey beautiful human🤭 make sure to like this post and comment if you wanna be tagged in my upcoming fanfics! I love you so much, you are loved <3 take care!💋

Tags:

@chrisslut333 @chrissslut @chris-slut @chrissv4mp @chrisshotdog @hollandsangel @ineedchriscock @chaossturns @sturnslcver @stuniolvs @sturnioloshacker @sturniolonmc @sturniolo-fann @sturnioz @sturniololvrrr @sturnzsblog @sturnzsun @sturnsdoll @sturnsbaby @sturnsblunt @sturnsstars @sturnzwrld @sturnzyolo @sturnzluv @pepsiboyy @pvssychicken @p4lxouterbanks @strawberrysturniolo @bernardsbendystraws @whore4cherrycoke @strombolicious @urfavstromboli @mattsfavbitchhh @mattstattos @mattsturnswife @mattsgf @mattsdirtylittlehoe @hoeformatt @hoesformatt @monroesturnns

[hey-august]

B, G, K, R, S, Y For the alphabet!

I absolutely love your head canons for buggy!!! 💗

Sorry if this is a lot!

Ahhh, thank you!! Sorry for the delay with these! I had Too Much Fun writing them out! (NSFW Alphabet here)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For Buggy himself, he’s most apt to admit that he likes his hands. They’re the hands of a pirate and a performer. Calloused and agile. Plus he has a thing for nail care and finds it soothing to apply a layer of lacquer in whatever color he’s feeling at the moment. The pop of color really stands out when his hand is wrapped around a thick cock. Or digging into a dripping hole. Fuck, and seeing how many fingers he can fit? Yup, definitely a favorite of his. For his partner, it’s their smile. Aw, sweet. Of course he loves to make them laugh. To see their joy radiate up to their eyes. Even the sad, somber smile they offer the clown in his moments of vulnerability brings him a bit of peace. But there are two specific smiles that knock Buggy head over hills. That pump blood to his cock and leave him feral. First, is the soft breathy smile that slips out when his partner is on top. When his partner pauses to let Buggy’s dick nestle into place, they let out the most dreamy sigh and smile. And Buggy is in heaven. The second smile is when their face is coated in cum. Pearls clinging to their eyelashes, dripping down their cheeks, mixing with the spit on their outstretched tongue. The moment they risk getting jizz in their eyes, just to look up at Buggy and smile gratefully, all he wants to do is paint them again.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Buggy the Clown is a goofy fucker. He never stops talking. He always has shit to say. At first, it was a defense mechanism. All the humor and shenanigans kept the real feelings away. How could things get serious if he treated everything like a joke? If people saw a clown, then he’d give them a clown. “Lick it like a candy apple.” “Fuck, you could swallow swords in my show with a throat like that.” “C’mon, I wanna see you juggle these balls in your mouth.” (“I may not be a lion tamer, but I am pussy tamer.”) It dies down over time, but never goes away entirely. Buggy will never pass up an opportunity to invite his partner to the circus tent in his pants.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Mirror sex results in the best performances. Buggy rarely feels more like a star than when he’s watching his own lewd faces in the mirror while getting fucked. And Buggy is more than happy to take a backstage position when his partner is in the spotlight. Watching himself disappear into his partner, telling them to keep their eyes open, to move so he has a better view of the show - it strokes his ego hard and fast. But back to Buggy bent over in front of the mirror and drooling. There was one time his partner pushed the clown’s face against the cold silver and said to give himself a little kiss. What. The. Fuck. Licking and kissing the mirror and getting it dirty with spit and tears gave Buggy the most mind-blanking orgasm he’s ever had. In that moment, which stretched into eternity, he was a filthy fuck doll and more than okay with it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, but hear me out. Buggy’s interest in experimenting is driven by his image. Pirates swap stories and Buggy has all the best stories. Of course he does, he’s the greatest. And he’s done soooo many things. Really! Getting his dick sucked in a crowded restaurant - check. Stealing a chick from her boyfriend and fucking her in the bar bathroom - check. Then getting a blowjob from the boyfriend - check. Believe it or not, they all had a threesome afterwards and it lasted for days. Look, he still has the rope marks to prove it. Did that all happen? Abso-fucking-lutely. Really? Well…yeah. Sorta. Maybe some of it happened after the told the story. Buggy is a big believer in turning lies into truth. So yeah, Buggy will take risks to live in the reality he creates over stale beer. But he’s also down to experiment so he has more shit to talk about and prove he’s the best.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

If he could, Buggy would go until he passes out. How long that takes depends on how stressed he is, if he actually did any work during the day, how much he’s had to drink, and how good of a dicking it is. But this guy will hump and grind until he’s teary and whining. Until his balls are so empty that there’s almost nothing left to release except a few pathetic drops of mostly-clear liquid. Hands grabbing at the sheets and his partner, practically begging for more while his pretty eyes can’t stay open for more than a second. No, no, no, no, no, he swears he can keep going. Please, please don’t stop.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

There are ups and downs, but let’s talk about the ups. There are times when Buggy is revved and ready to go at a moment’s notice. His pupils dilate and his pants get tight when his partner is near. Any chance he gets, Buggy is whispering (loudly) in their ear about finding somewhere more secluded. If they do slink away, it’s a quickie that’s composed of a handful of sloppy thrusts and the pirate is satiated for all of a few minutes before he’s groping their ass again. It’s a problem, really. For everyone with eyes and ears.

[jmvore]

cater to you | pjm [r2]

‹ previous | next › ↳ SYNOPSIS › Being sexually frustrated seemed to be the story of Jimin's life. So he turned to writing his wants and wishes in a blog he kept online for people to read. He used to be content with that, until he met you. Eventually, he stopped because all the fantasizing in the world never amounted to the real thing. › series masterlist | masterlist | request ‹

» RATING › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » GENRE(S) › smut, fluff » AU › slice of life » PAIRING(S) › park jimin x f!reader » WORD(S) › 5.2k+ » CH. SYNOPSIS › jimin comes home one night stressed out of his mind and you make plans to get him to relax. » REQUESTED? › @luvymin › thank you for requesting lovely ♡ » SMUT WARNING(S) › JIMIN CALLS THE READER MOMMY (so if that's not your cup of tea, don't read), sub!jimin, domme!f!reader, a lot of orgasm denials, loads of teasing, ass play, m! fingering, sensual massage, jimin is in love alright, soft!domme reader, a lot of pet names for Jimin (Petal, Baby, Love, Sweetheart, etc) because you're so in love, okay but eating Jimin's [redacted] while he's in a split position cause that's hot af lol, stressed!jm (poor baby), whiny!jm, worship kink (reader worships the fuck outta Jimin), jimin apologizes like crazy cause he feels so damn bad, & just taking care of Jimin like he deserves. » POST DATE › 11/26/2023 » A/N › It took a minute but it's finally done! Some stuff didn't make it but I got a couple of drabbles I wanna release too so they will get done. Thank you @/saradika for the divider(s)! For those who don't know, this is a request series: you can request for this universe. You can read more about it on this story's masterlist.

thank you for reading! & remember: you nice, keep going.❤️› masterlist ‹

The front door opens and slams closed with so much you fear for the picture that line that particular wall. It's startles you but you know it can only be one person.

At least you hope it is.

"Jimin? Honey?" You don't hear an answer, growing worried because shit! What if it's not him? You probably shouldn't give your location to the-

"It's me."

You breath out in relief, trying to calm your beating heart. The squeaking of the wooden can be heard underneath his feet as you know he's headed to the living room. In return, confuses you since he always finds you first.

Something's wrong.

"Petal?" You don't let any of that deter you, wiping your hands on the towel hanging from the oven and turning down the fire to let the food simmer. It doesn't take long for you to find him in the living room, sat on the couch with his head.

"Petal? What's wrong?" You see the bags under his eyes. You've notice he's been overworking himself for the dance studio and coming home late from time to time. Your lips upturn into a frown at the way his body is visibly tired. "Jimin. What's-"

"Nothing! Jesus... C-Can you just give me a second?" The moment those words leave his mouth, he instantly regrets it. Your head cocked to the side in a 'what the fuck' notion, face scrunched in irritation. "Honey..."

No. He doesn't get to call you that. He's angry but he's most definitely not mad at you. He shouldn’t have since you didn’t have anything to do with it. It’s not your fault Taemin quit. Or the fact the parents were getting on the instructors' cases about who will have the lead this year for the Nutcracker showcase. In all honesty, Jimin hates this time of year. It brings out the worst in people. The only good thing is the two and a half weeks he gets to spend with you uninterrupted.

And, of course, seeing his students graduate from his class too but spending time with you takes the cake.

When he peeks over at you, he frowns when your face doesn't show any emotion. Fuck, he didn't mean it.

"Jimin."

"Shit! I'm sorry..."

"What the hell?"

"I-I'm sorry?" It comes out more like a question as Jimin reaches for you to make sure you don't scooch away from him. "I'm just exhausted and angry and-."

"I can see that but that doesn't mean you can take it out on me."

"I know, I know... I just-" Jimin stops because he knows you don't want to hear excuses but he hopes you forgive him. "There's so much going on at the studio that I feel I'm being stretched every which way."

"Baby?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Petal," You coo, scooting closer to pull him right into your lap. He lays his head on your shoulder as your fingers thread through his blonde hair. You can sense the way he tenses, running your hand up and down his back as he finally vents.

“What's on your mind?”

“Nothing and everything?” He whispers, closing his eyes to simply feel. "I don't know if I want to keep doing this."

"Your work?"

He nods, "It’s just with the kids' showcase coming up and the parents being pushier than usually. It's getting to breaking point." Jimin grabs your hand to play with your fingers. "And with Taemin quitting on us was the last thing we needed so now we have to find another instructor."

"Seems everything is hectic right now."

"It is..." Jimin groans and you can't help but feel bad. He needs a break. You can't help but want to take care of him like you promised him you would. You always know what to get him to calm down, regardless of why he's riled up. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, I can't tell you because I don't know anything about what you did I can tell you that you got this." Jimin rolls his eyes but the smile on his face says otherwise. “But, if you don't have to talk about it more you don't have to. You know I'm here whenever you want to, Petal.”

“I know.” He pouts, peeking through one of his eyes to get a glimpse of your reaction and blushing when he see you smirking back. “T-Thank you.”

"You're such a cutie." You mushed together like this for a couple more minutes and cuddling him until he doesn't want to anymore. “Anyway, it's what I'm here for.”

He bites his lip before glancing back at the kitchen to see the pot on the stove. "What were you doing?"

"Well I was cooking you dinner but then you started yelling at me. I'm hurt."

"I said I was sorry," Jimin whines while bowing his head and groaning.

"Uh huh."

He calls your name but you can't help but chuckle.

"It's fine baby." You kiss his forehead before nipping at his earlobe. "But, next time you snap at me like that you're going to be punished."

Jimin's eyes widen. He said he was sorry! How much more does he need to do for you to forgive him?

“Nope, you’re not getting out of this by being cute, Petal.” You grab him by the hand to pull him into the kitchen. Your heart sings at how sweet your baby boy is. “Anyway, c’mon. I made your favorite.”

“Kimchi Jjigae?” 

“Mhm." You turn him toward your shared bedroom and pat him on the bottom to get him to move. "Go take a shower, I'll get our plates ready. We can watch a movie or something."

"Okay!" You something kin to weights being lifted from his shoulders.

As you watch him disappear into the room, the wheels turn inside your head. So many ideas come time mind but you settle on one. One you know he will enjoy and appreciate. You'll put it in motion for your sweet little petal because Lord knows how much he needs.

And how much you want to help.

You can’t wait.

[ 07:43pm | Honey🥰: Hey, I need to talk to you when you get home.

Your text sent Jimin’s mind into a mental gymnastics frenzy. Your relationship has been going well, at least, he thought it was. He doesn't know what it could be. Is it good? Is it bad?

He frowns at that.

Oh god, what if you were finally done with him?! Wait no, that can't be it! Shit, what could you need to talk to him so urgently for?

Fuck…

Here he goes overthinking things! Should he text back and ask? Would that ruin the surprise? What should he do?? S-Should he do anything? HIs breathing grows labored, hyperventilating at the the thought of you leaving him. Is this because he yelled?

God, why is he like this?

His phone buzzes in his hand as he takes a quick glances at it, releasing the breath he was holding.

[ 07:54pm | Honey🥰: and I know you're overthinking this. Stop it, it's nothing bad, love I’ll see you when you get home 😘

"Get it together, Jimin." He can't help but snicker at himself and if anyone else was there they'd think he was insane. It takes everything not to tell you what happened because he already knows what you're going to say.

[ 08:05pm | Okay, I should be home in a little bit. Just closing up.

Jimin checks the time on his watch and noting it's almost nine. He hates that he sent most of everyone home (with the exception of Hoseok and Jungkook). It simply meant the three of them had to finish locking up.

"Jimin!" Hoseok runs up to him, his smile bright as ever as he hands him his checklist. "Anything needs to be done? I'm done with mine."

"No. If you want to head out you can." Jimin shrugs while looking over his own. "I can lock up."

He looks at the rest of the closing list:

☑ Making sure his rooms are cleaned and tidy. ☑ Things that were left behind by the kids are put in the lost and found for the next day. ▫ Relieving the Janitor once he's done cleaning the dance floors. ▫ Lastly, shutting off unimportant lights, locking up.

It’s not that bad. He thinks he can manage.

“It’s okay! I just have to see the janitor out and then I’ll be heading home.”

“Are you sure? We can stay and help.”

“You know it’s not a bother.”

“I’m sure. Go home guys.” Jimin starts to shoo them out of the door. “I’ll be fine. I told he-”

“Yeah, yeah. Give her a hug and tell her I miss her cooking.” Hoseok jokes, grabbing Jungkook by the arm to make him leave as well. “We need to get together again!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll see you guys later.” Jimin chuckles before heading to the back to tell the janitor to leave. Lights off, doors locked and the alarm set, Jimin rushes out to his car to get ready to leave. Of course traffic stops him from getting home at his normal time, telling Siri to dial your number and hearing it ring twice before you answer. Pulling onto the highway, he’s trying his hardest to keep his excitement off the gas pedal. It’s easier said than done until he sees the traffic has come to a slow stop. 

He instantly regrets not going the way he usually does.

“Petal?”

“Hey honey, I’m on my way home!” He says before groaning when he notices the traffic hasn’t moved. Of course when he wants to take the highway, there’s a traffic jam. “But there’s a bit of traffic.”

“It’s okay, love,” You chuckle at how annoyed he sounds, wanting nothing more than to pinch his cute cheeks and tell him it’s okay. “Take your time. I’ll still be here.”

“I know. I know. I just miss you.”

“I miss you too, darling.” He hears a bit of shuffling and he can tell you’re in bed. What he wouldn’t give to be in bed with you right now. “But are you sure that’s the only reason you called?”

“Huh? Yes?” 

“Uh huh. I’m not telling you anything until you get here.” You chuckle, making Jimin smile on his end. Your laugh never fails to brighten his day.

“Damn. You got me.”

It’s then that he glances out beyond where he is and realizes there’s been a car accident. A bad one from the looks of it. 

“Oh there was an accident.”

“Well be safe, Petal. We’ll talk when you get home.” 

“Okay I’ll see you in a little bit.” He hangs up the phone, traffic slowly picking up but still moving at a slow pace. Eventually, he makes it out of the radius of the crash (and hopes everyone involved is okay). He ends up arriving home around nine-forty, pulling into his driveway. He notes your car is in the garage so he leaves his parked outside. 

Jimin's heart is thrums in his chest, unsure of what you have planned but excited at the thought of what it could be. He doesn’t know what you have in store for him but that doesn’t stop him from running to the door with his keys in hand and ready to open the door. He’s confused the moment he shuts the front door and sees the downstairs lights are off. 

You said you were going to be home, so… Where were you?

“Honey?” He calls out your name with no answer in return. He tosses his keys and wallet in the basket next to the front door and sets his shoes on the rack. The soft hum of the air conditioner can be heard and the little creaks of the house but he doesn’t hear you. “Where is she?”

Jimin feels his phone buzz, noting you must have texted him earlier when he was getting out of the car. That’s why he didn’t feel it.

[ 09:32pm | Honey🥰: Come upstairs when you get home.

He stuffs his phone into his back pocket and heads upstairs when he sees the candles lining their way from the top of the stairs to your shared bedroom. He bites back the smile, realizing he was really panicking for no reason. Holding your arms open, he runs into your arms with hesitation as you amused at his reaction.

“Surprise Darling!” You grin as he’s vibrating with excitement and also confusion. 

“Is this-”

“Mhm and It’s all for you. I know how stressed you’ve been and I wanted to do something to help you relax.” You, noticing the way his eyes twinkle with adoration. You want to keep that look in his eyes for as long as you remain together. 

“I don’t know what to say.” Jimin throws himself into your arms again, this time his plush lips connect with yours over and over as you giggle into it.

“Petal-”

“No.” Jimin's eyes meet yours as you see his bottom lip begin to wobble, a small pout on his lips. You can see tears beginning to form in his eyes and you can’t help but comfort your baby. You know why he’s so emotional when you do things like this but it still hurts to see. “T-thank you for taking care of me.”

Your smile fades the longer you hold him in your arms as you don’t move, knowing he needs this more than he leads on. To be secure, comforted and not ridiculed. You kiss the tear from his cheek before wiping it away with your thumb.

“I told you I would. You don’t have to thank me for that.” As you hold his jaw, you bring his face closer, your lips so close all he has to do is lean forward to taste you but you don’t give him the luxury again. Not yet. You have a point to make. “You deserve all of this and more, beautiful. And remember what I said?”

“Whoever made me feel less than doesn’t deserve me.”

You hum and note the way he melts into your arms, body so close to becoming boneless. He continues to take in your words as truth because he knows they are. He’s glad he found you when he did and he’s glad he took a chance that night when you spoke to him at the club. He’s never felt this genuine with anyone he’s been with before. 

He doesn’t know where he would be if he hadn’t cast his doubts aside.

“Aish…” Jimin rolls eyes as his head falls back. “I’m sorry for messing up the mood.”

“The mood is whatever you want to make it. There’s no rules.”

Jimin nods, taking in his surroundings as he steps away to truly look around the room. The rose petals leading from the top of the stairs to your shared bed and the way the dim candles are lit and lighting the room. Jimin can’t wait to see what you’re going to do.

“Now it’s time for you to relax and let me cater to you, Pretty.” You hold your hand out for him to take and when he grabs it, you tug him into your chest. His breath hitches and his eyes widen the moment as he swallows. Whenever you take control, it always makes his heart skip a beat but he wouldn’t trade it for anything else. “I wanna take care of you tonight.”

He looks at you before noticing a bottle of oil next to the bed. The apple of his cheeks turning red as you can feel his dick chub up in his jeans. 

“A massage?”

You hum, twirling your fingers for him to turn around and patting him on the butt to force him to move.

“Yes. Now, go shower.” Your tone is playful but stern and he knows you have something more in store aside from the initial plan. 

“O-Okay.”

“Ah, ah. Yes, what?”

“Y-Yes Mommy!” He squeals, practically skipping toward the bathroom before shutting the door. You light a couple of more candles in his absence and grab a couple of towels to lay on the bed. You want him to feel good but don’t want to worry about cleaning the bed sheets later. Plus that oil is a little too runny, you make a mental note to get a different brand. 

It doesn’t take much longer for Jimin to emerge from the bathroom. His hair is wet and dripping as the water cascades down his toned body. You were always amazed at how beautiful he is as a whole but his toned body is on a whole ‘nother level. You’re dying to rip the towel from his body and give him exactly what he needs to release the unwanted tension throughout it but that is going to have to wait.

For now.

“You’re staring,” Jimin states playfully. “Like what you see?” 

He undid the towel around his waist and let it drop to the floor as he watched you run your tongue over your top lip. He shifts on his feet, the butterflies doing work to his stomach. 

God, you make him feel so wanted.

“You know I do,” You chuckle, taking in just how hard he is (cock so red you can’t help but want to kneel down and blow him). The things you want to do to him right now are so surreal but, atlas, he needs the tension released from his body.

Focus.

You gesture for him to lie down on the bed. He makes a show of it, crawling slowly to give you a full view of his ass. 

“You’re really trying to rile me up, aren’t you, Pretty?”

“Maybe?” He winks over his shoulder before laying down on the towel and wiggling a little to get comfortable. 

“Tease.”

“But I’m your sweet little tease.” He grins, folding his arms and resting his head on top of them. He wiggles a little more to get comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he can get with how hard he is. You can see him rut against the bed as you slap his firm ass, hearing him let off a soft groan. 

“Be still.” It’s your turn to strip down to nothing, your lingerie thrown on the floor (long forgotten). You grab the lemon-scented massage oil from the bedside table and climb into bed, weight on the back of his legs just below his ass. You’re careful to make sure you don’t hurt him. 

“Remember. Relax.” 

“It’s kind of hard when I can feel you’re naked on top of me.”

“Would you have it any other way?”

He shakes his head but hisses the moment you apply pressure into the middle of his back. Your hands travel up to his shoulders and back down his back. Jimin’s hyper aware of how wet you are, he can feel it and holy shit, he wants to be buried inside of you. He wonders… Was this turning you on as much as it was for him?However, this massage feels way too good to have you stop now. He didn’t realize how pent up he was now that you’re doing your best to loosen up those muscles. 

It doesn't go unappreciated. 

“How does that feel, Petal?” A soft chill travels through his body the moment you begin walking your fingers down his back again. You’re no doubt tracing the various moon eclipses in the center of it and he can’t say he doesn’t like it… Because he does. You worship every single part of his body like he was made for you to praise and he can’t help but love every part of it.

You conditioned him this way but he’s glad.

“Sweets?”

“Hm?” 

“Did you hear me?”

“Oh no…” Jimin twists slightly to get a good look at you and he wishes he hadn’t. “Fuck…” You look so hot on top of him (even if it’s the wrong way). He can see your nipples hardened from rubbing your breast against his back and probably the cold air. You always look so sexy when you’re concentrating and right now is no different.

Feeling eyes on you, you glance to meet Jimins and smirk, knowing what that glint in his eyes mean.

“Nope. I’m not done, lay back down sweetheart.” 

Jimin whines, wanting to get you to touch him down there but it’s not working. You’re too determined to finish this. You make sure to get the rest of his back, knowing how much he twists and turns while dancing. He mostly complains about it anyway so you know it’s one of the places that needs to be worked out.

“Still with me?” 

He moans, “Y-Yeah, can you go deeper?” as you slide your palm near the trapezius.

You hum, “Of course. You’re so tense.”

“I know…” Jimin sighs, knowing he’s so fucking turned on. It’s starting to hurt a little since he’s laying on it. “M-Mommy…”

“Yeah?”

“Hurts?”

“Hm?” You scoot further back on his legs to be able to lean down and cup his ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. It’s when you push your fist into the muscle and then knead into it that has Jimin practically crying for release. He moans your name, gripping the sheets on the side of him and pushes back against your hand with a soft whimper. 

“It hurts so good.” You want to ruin him right here, right now. You want to make sure that he can’t walk for a couple of days, stumbling around asking (or rather whining) for your help because ‘you did this to him’.  

You also want him to be able to unwind. Be free of thoughts and responsibilities. To simply feel the world around him. 

Although, the latter is currently living rent-free in your mind.

The scent of the oil sends Jimin's senses into overdrive as it finally fills the room. When you hit a certain pressure point in the back of his calf, he hisses while reaching for a pillow to hold.

“Tell me if it hurts, baby.”

“I will, mommy.” 

Fuck he needed this. You’re so good to him.

You hum, giving his ass a soft smack and hearing him groan.

“You know what I think, Petal?” You ask as Jimin's breath hitches the moment you start kneading his ass. “I should spank you for your outburst the other day.” You smack his ass again before pressing your hand into his lower back, leaning close to his ear. “I should fuck this pretty little hole until you're begging me to stop. Make you cum over and over again from just my cock but you would love that wouldn’t you, baby?”

“N-No. Punish me.”

“Oh? You wouldn't?” You chuckle, finally pulling his cheeks apart to the small Emerald peeking out of his hole. “Is that why this is here?”

“No! No… I-I just wanted to be prepared.”

“Of course, my love.” You tap the little gem before finally pulling it out and pushing it back in. You quickly up the speed and with how hard he is and all your teasing, he doesn't know if he will last much longer. “But I don't think you deserve this… at least, not yet.” You abruptly stop as he begs you to keep going. You pretend to ignore him. You slowly stand up, admiring the way his hole gapes open with the little green gem sitting pretty. 

He knows you’re going to make him work for it. He doesn’t mind doing it but it’s so pent up, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to withstand it. You, however, are enjoying the show as you take a step back to gaze at him. An impish smile spreads across your face. You have something planned.

“Do you think you deserve it?” You ask, your voice soft but enticing. He nods, his eyes wide with anticipation. 

“I said I was sorry…” 

“I know you are and that’s the only reason I’m not.” 

 “P-Please…” He whines as he tries to rut against the bed but another quick slap on the ass stops him.

“Impatient.” With the click of your tongue, you remove the gem from his ass to watch him try to clench around nothing. “Get on all fours.” 

“Yes Mommy.” He’s quick to obey as you reach around his frame to begin to stroke his cock. Running your fingers over his sensitive skin, he moans in pleasure. His eyes were lidding with excitement. You cup his balls in your hand, to massage them before more back to his ass. 

“You want this, baby?” He can feel you thrusting against him and he so wishes you had your strap on right now. He needs it but whatever else you have planned he’ll take that too.

“Yes!” You rub your index against his hole in a circular motion. He moans softly, his body trembling with anticipation. You tilt forward to begin kissing up his back and once you reach his shoulder blades, he knows he’s a goner. 

“If you can cum for me, you can have it.” You reach up to caress his cheek as his body vibrates with pleasure. His heart is pounding against his chest the moment your lips brush against his. "Now be a good boy and turn over for me baby." You step back and smirk, knowing you're about to give him what he really wants. “I wanna see your pretty face.” 

It’s not so much as a request but more of a demand and Jimin does exactly what he’s told. You notice the moment he does that his cock looks like it’s about to burst from being neglected. The way it curves against his stomach makes you want to put it right in your mouth but you know the moment you do, he’s going to cum. 

And you don’t want him to. Not yet.

You nibble your bottom lip to try not to give off how much this affects you but your mouth is watering at the sight. 

“So pretty.��

“For you.”

“All for me?” He profusely nods as he writhes in your grasp, you feel up his stomach. He’s falling into that headspace but he’s okay with it because he knows you’ll take care of him when he does. You always do. “I hope so. Ready?”

“Y-Yes. Please.” Jimin whimpers, puppy eyes staring right into yours. “T-Touch me, please. I’ve been good. I w-waited.”

“Oh baby,” You coo, tracing the pre-cum on the tip of his cock as it jumps from the feathery touches. Another whine erupts from his throat as he arches his back, desperate to feel your lips or pussy wrapped around his cock.

You know he's growing desperate but you also know the pleasure he'll feel in the seconds to come will be out of this world with all the times you've denied his orgasm. You take a mental picture of him on his back with his legs pressed to his chest for your memory bank, savoring the moment. 

Locked up safe and tight.

“I want you…” Jimin sighs, head falling back into the bed. The oil makes his body glisten, accenting the pre-cum drooling from his cock. You lick your palm and take hold of his cock as you slowly stroke it again. This time you swipe your tongue over the tip before closing your mouth over it and sucking it. “You're gonna make me cum.”

“Oh?” You suck a little harder and by the gods, Jimin is right fucking there just a couple of more sucks and you'll have his cum all down your throat but, alas, you stop again and Jimin feels like he's about to go insane.

“Turn over,” You tell him, hearing him whine louder because why? Why did you stop? Why were you doing this to him? Is it because he yelled at you? God… “Ah, ah.”

“Mommy, I-” You raise a brow and honestly, Jimin knows not to say much of anything else unless he wants you to walk out and leave him with the Blues balls he's ever had. Everything hurts at this point but it hurts so fucking good.

“Turn over.”

Once he's in the position, you smack his already red ass another smack to watch it jiggle from the force. That's when an idea comes to mind. You've seen Jimim dance, you know how flexible your king is and you want to see how long he can hold a position. 

“I want you to do the splits, baby.”

Jimin’s eyes widened at the request. He can do it. Hell, he can do the side splits and the front but he's never done it for sexual gain. Will that feel good?

“Do you wanna cum?” Jimin peeks back with pleading eyes, hoping it'll get you to let him but all he gets is a chuckle in return. “Do you?”

“Y-Yes.” 

“Splits.”

Jimin nods, positioning himself into side splits and scooting back to the edge of the bed per your request. It feels weird, to say the least. His muscles are sort of strained but with years of ballet under his belt, he can handle it. You press his upper body into the mattress, lifting his bottom to make his cock and balls hang off the side of the bed. That way it's not hurting him and making it easier for you to play with. 

“Fuck, I love your ass baby.”

Jimin whimpers and wiggles to try and entice you to start. His cock salivating all over the side of the bed sheets. 

“I want you loud, Petal. I wanna hear how good I'm making you feel. Understand me?”

“Yes!” You smack his ass one more time before taking the right cheek and kneading it. “Fuck yes…” He moans, heading falling into the mattress with a gasp once your tongue is swirling around his pretty little hole. “Please fuck my hole. It's yours Mommy. It'll always be yours.”

“Yeah?” You spit into it before delving back in, your other wrapping around his cock to stroke. “You want me to stretch you baby? You want me to fuck you so good you'll still feel it in the morning?”

“Yes! Yes!”

You can feel the sheets tightened because of his grip on the bed sheets. His breathing grows withered and scarce. He jolts the moment you nip at his right cheek and instantly moves to the left and back. 

“Your ass is so fucking amazing, baby.” You trace your finger around his rim before sinking it in. His hole flutters around it, he's so warm and wet and you wanna put your strap on and fuck him to oblivion but he's going dumb with just your tongue and fingers. “I’m gonna fuck you dumb, baby boy. Make you want me so bad.”

You push your finger deeper as he mutters to no but himself, his body trembling with pleasure. You start off slow, hooking your finger to find that spot that you know will drive him wild. 

“I love how wet you are for me already, baby.” Jimin slightly arches his back and pushes his hips up against you. You smirk at how needy he is now, reaching for a pillow to place underneath his stomach to make him arch a little better. 

“Look at you taking my finger so well. It sucks me right in, baby. I wonder if you're ready for my-”

“I am, please!” He whines, pushing his ass back as he hears you chuckle.

“Eager aren't we?”

“Yes. Please!” Jimin’s full on sobbing now and rutting against the pillow. You know the friction it's causing will be enough to make him cum and you think you’ve played with him enough. “I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me, please!”

“Oh I plan to, but first…” You lean forward and immediately start flicking your tongue against his rim. 

before running it down to his balls to the tip of his cock and giving it a light suck.

“Fuck Yes…” Jimin whimpers, “Your tongue is so good. You feel good.”

“Mhm…”

Jimin reaches behind him to try and shove your head into him and try to keep you there. He much rather have you laying on top of him and fucking his tight ass open but he’s so into his pleasure that he can’t seem to reach you like he wants to. He moans louder and louder as you keep licking and sucking his asshole. 

He pushes his ass toward you just to feel more of you. Your hands, your tongue, your body heat- he’s surrounded by you and he knows he can trust you. You make him feel so safe and secure. 

He’s so close to the edge and he wants you to take him over. Your hands gripping his thighs tighter and at this point, he is straight grinding on your face as you tongue his pretty hole. You’re switching between fucking him with your tongue and fingers and his pleasure is at it’s peak. He can feel it simmering in his stomach, wanting it to snap because he needs this. 

He needs you to keep going. 

He feels your body move against his and his heart races as you take him deeper. He’s never felt this pleasure before and he knows he’s going to cum soon. He moans in pleasure as he feels your tongue exploring him, his breathing becoming ragged as he feels you teasing him. 

He wants you to fuck him. So. Fucking. Bad. 

“Please...” His strength is ebbing away, and he can't keep up the momentum. He wants to cum so bad but he wants to feel full.

“You’re so pretty when you beg, petal.” A chuckle escapes your lips. He surrenders completely and lets you take him as far as you want. He feels so relaxed and open with you and he knows he can trust you. He lets you take control and he lets you bring him pleasure. “Ready?”

“Cum… ‘Wan cum…”

At first, you were simply grazing his prostate and barely touching it but now, you’re fucking him so good that he’s starting to mumble incoherently. He’s tensing and then untensing before gripping the sheets so hard, you knew his knuckles were turning white. His moans grow so much louder as his breathing is becoming labored. 

He’s oh so hot and god, you want to ruin him some more.

You add a third and this point, you’re thrusting in and out as his pretty hole sucks your fingers right in. He can’t control the sounds he makes each time you so much as graze (let alone touching) against his prostate and he knows he’s about to cum so hard. He needs this, his mind and body stressed to the point that he can’t even relax on his own but that’s why he’s happy you’re here.

You always know what he needs.

“I’m about to cum!” He buries his face further into the bed and you know his face is beet red from how much he begins wiggling to reach his high. You lean over and whisper in his ear, "Cum for me, baby." 

He lets out a loud moan as his body shudders and he cums all over himself. 

“Ah! Ah! AH!” He yells the moment he finally cums, he keeps rutting into the bed to keep his orgasm going as you begin to slow down since you know he’s hypersensitive right now. “So good. So good. I’m good. Good.” He whines and you know he is falling into his space. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!”

“Petal?” You immediately climb into the bed to lay on top of you, knowing he needs the comfort of knowing someone is with him. You rub circles into his back, let him know that he's not alone and that you're here. You'll always be here. You’re pleased and content in the knowledge that you made him feel this good.

“I'm sorry…” The way he cries does nothing but break your heart because you know it's coming from a place that he hasn't tapped into since he left his last relationship.

“Why honey?” You ask, your smile turns into a frown when his eyes meet yours but they're widened with fear. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I-” He tried to explain but the moment you shake your head, he stops. 

“Honey, don't ever apologize for something that you don't have control over.” You reach forward to caress his cheek, noticing how blotchy with red they've become since his episode. “I told you I would take care of you and I meant that.”

Jimin hums, eyes in a complete daze as he leans into your touch to rub his face into your hand.

“I'm sorry…” You smile, kissing his forehead as well to say it's okay. You hate the damage his ex’s has done to him but you're determined to reverse it because Jimin deserves everything and more. He deserves to be loved and cared for. Not ridiculed because of what he’s into.

“It's okay, Petal.” He rests his head in your breast and you know sleep is finally taking over his form. He needs the rest and you don't bother him while he does.

With his arms wrapped around your waist and his breathing finally evening out. You can say he's satisfied and stress-free right now. 

Maybe you should run him a bath when he wakes up. 

Yeah, you think you’ll do that. You smile to yourself and stroke his hair, he looks so peaceful and content.

You kiss his forehead, silently wishing him a peaceful night.

© 2020 - 2023 » JMVORE || @/http-pjm and @/googikoo » All Rights Reserved.   DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work. Thank You!

[sammysficfactory]

AOT Men’s Favorite Throwback R&B/Soul Songs pt.2

Feat. Ony, Reiner, and Connie

read pt.1 here

Reiner Braun

Let’s Stay Together by Al Green

reiner is a simple man

and his love for you simple too

he loves you to the ends of the earth…it’s that simple

Sitting at a long table with your now husband, a familiar melody begins spilling out of the speakers and he gives you a knowing smile.

“You wanna dance, Mrs. Braun?” He suggests, standing and offering you his hand. You chuckle and place your hand in his and stand, making your way towards the dance floor. You looked absolutely gorgeous in your long white dress, your back to his chest as he sung the lyrics softly in your ear. The moment is even more intimate when kisses your temple and whispers in your ear.

“You look so beautiful, sweetheart. I love you so much.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“I love you too, I’m glad we’re getting married.” You reply, turning in his arms to face him. You kiss him softly, allowing yourself to bask in the loving and warm atmosphere of your wedding.

it’s an old song

but it definitely explains how much he loves you

like the song said

he’s tryna be with you when times are good, bad, happy, and sad

i love him down

Connie Springer

Can You Stand The Rain by New Edition

you know that connie is dramatic

he knows he’s dramatic

so it makes total sense when he gives you a performance to this song

The drums and familiar melody of New Edition filled your bedroom as your boyfriend Connie pushed the door open, phone in hand as he begins singing to you.

“Con, go ‘head somewhere! I’m tryna nap!” You scold him, but you can’t deny your poorly suppressed smile and how entertaining he was. Ignoring your protests, he hops onto your shared bed and pulls you by the legs closer to him. You yelp in surprise before swatting at him, wanting him to leave you alone. He shakes his head, a goofy smile plastered on his face as he disturbs your peace entertains you.

like he truly does the most

after he’s done he just stands there breathing heavily

acting like he’s actually part of new edition and was at a concert

he gets upset when you don’t clap

probably sucks his teeth at you when you ask for something

Onyankapon

All The Things (Your Man Won’t Do) by Joe

oh my GOD i love me some ony

i hc that he can SANG

and he LOVES slow dancing with you

For you and your beloved boyfriend, cleaning day was every other Sunday. The two of you would try (and mostly fail) to wake up early, play some old R&B and soul music, and get to cleaning. When the song plays, the two of you are cleaning up the living room. Ony slides behind you and wraps his hands around your waist, leaning down and kissing your shoulder as the two of you sway from side to side and he sings to you.

“Have I told you how much I like when you sing to me?” You ask. He nods with a chuckle, you tell him all the time how much you love his voice.

“You never miss the chance princess.” He teases, kissing your cheek. He takes the broom out of your hand and spins you around to face him. His brown eyes examine your face with an overwhelming amount of love and adoration for you. He leans in, placing a soft and slow kiss on your lips.

“I love you.” He smiles at you before smacking your butt and reluctantly letting you go.

“Now let’s finish cleaning so we can chill.” He says, you whine and lightly scold about him being heavy handed and rub at your butt as you snatch the broom from his hands.

“Watch it, Y/N.” He warns.

ony is a man of few words

but he always knows what to say

my man my man my man

[raythekiller]

nsfw alphabet w/ Jeff mayhaps?

🗒 ❛ NSFW Alphabet ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Jeff The Killer

#Notes: i have other like 7 nsfw alphabet requests and half of them are asking for ej LMAO

pronouns used: none, gn! reader

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

A - AFTERCARE 

Terrible at it. Will just turn his back to you on the bed and doze off after a while, not even cleaning either of you up. Most he'll do is ask if you're okay cause he knows he can get a bit rough.

B - BODY PART 

He's a thighs dude. Will definitely want to fuck them at one point or another.

C - CUM 

Either all over your face or down your throat.

D - DIRTY SECRET 

Will rather die than admit it, but he kinda wants to try out being submissive. Not that he'll ever tell you that.

E - EXPERIENCE

Most he's ever done was make out with some girls from his school before he got turned into a human barbecue, so not much experience with sex.

F - FAVORITE POSITION 

Reverse cowgirl, doggy or (surprisingly) missionary.

G - GOOFY 

Definitely serious. He wants to be seen as a big bad dom, so humor just isn't allowed in the bedroom. Boring.

H - HAIR 

Doesn't have much body hair, so he doesn't bother much with shaving. At most grooming every few months.

I - INTIMACY

Jeff isn't the most... Romantic, let's say. Even if he does love you, he won't really show it when fucking you.

J - JACK OFF

Does it pretty regularly. He's got a lot of pent up anger, what's a best way to deal with it than taking it out on the socks?

K - KINK

Here's a full post for his kinks.

L - LOCATION 

Literally anywhere. His bed, bent over on a table, the kitchen counter, bathroom sink, you name it.

M - MOTIVATION 

Loves teasing. Just a few touches from you and he's rock hard. Just don't do it too much or it backfires.

N - NO

Refuses to be submissive or vulnerable because he has some issues to work through, which is why he's not very romantic. He wants to keep his emotions separated from the act.

O - ORAL 

Absolutely receiving. It's one of the only times he gets a bit subby, thrusting up desperately and grabbing your hair while, surprisingly, whimpering.

P - PACE

Fast and messy and rough. Christian Grey style, he doesn't make love, he fucks.

Q - QUICKIE 

Super big fan. Will bend you over the nearest surface and just go to town with you whenever he feels like it.

R - RISK 

Into breath and knife play, so he's quite risky. Doesn't mind the thrill of almost being caught either.

S - STAMINA 

About 2 rounds, but he holds back as much as he can so they usually last for a while.

T - TOYS 

Doesn't own any and if you do he's throwing them away. Thinks that his cock is the only thing you need to satisfy yourself. Reacts almost like you're cheating on him.

U - UNFAIR 

Impatient, so not much teasing or foreplay. He just wants to be inside you already.

V - VOLUME 

More of a grunter than anything, but when you're giving him head he'll moan quite loudly.

W - WILD CARD 

Will spit on you. Either on your sex or your mouth.

X - X-RAY 

About 8 inches, very skinny. Curves to the right.

Y - YEARNING 

Horny all of the fucking time. You'll just be chilling together and he'll ask if you wanna fuck. Nasty.

Z - ZZZ 

Falls asleep pretty fast afterwards. Since he's the one doing most of the work, he gets pretty tired. Definitely hugs you in his sleep.

[randoimago]

Saw your randothoughts thing and so I thought I'd send this to your askbox. My request is for you to write whatever you want here! Like a free space!

JoJo's Part 5 Bucci Gang as Options in a Dating Sim

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Character(s): Giorno Giovanna, Bruno Bucciarati, Leone Abbacchio, Guido Mista, Pannacotta Fugo, Narancia, Trish Una

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): Ngl, this is a really cute thing to do anon. I can see this eventually being a bit tricky if I have no ideas at the time, but I do appreciate this now! I'll just use this to set up my self-indulgent idea.

Giorno

Quiet and keeps to himself. Only seen really enjoying life when he's with his closest friends. All the girls want him, but he is very uninterested (but he's polite about it at least!)

An interested relationship with his dad. It's not bad, but home life is difficult. Giorno recently learned somethings about his father that has made him very iffy. His dad still loves Giorno very much though.

His route probably begins if Player has high Intelligence stat or something. Giorno seems perfect, but his grades aren't there. Which is weird because he is very smart (and you learn the reason his grades are dropping is because he just doesn't turn in his homework or care enough about assignments).

Of course, you have the ClassicTM of some random girl being jealous of your relationship with Giorno, tells you to stay away, Giorno finds out and says to ignore her (he deals with the problem behind your back by calling the girl out, much to her embarrassment)

Maybe random Dio cameo just to freak out Players with how ridiculously hot Giorno's dad is. There're many comments online about "Forget Giorno, I wanna date his dad."

Bruno

Older student that helps your teacher in class. He's very kind and friendly to all the students (except when they aren't kind back). Very helpful. It's easy to see why several students have crushes on him, but he smiles and waves them off.

I can see his route beginning with you r running into him outside of class and seeing how tired he really is. Like his cheerful facade in school is a mask he wears. He's still kind and patient, but he also has some built up anger from past things.

You learn he lost his parents when he was very young and ended up in the foster system, which definitely affected quite a bit of his upbringing. But he even tried to keep a friendly face to help the other kids there.

You also learn that it's why he's so friendly to a wide range of people. Yeah some of the students in your class are annoying, but Bruno doesn't know what they might have been through/are currently going through.

Probably the easiest one to get romantic points with. At least, you know that you lose points with any option talking down about others so it's a process of elimination from there.

Abbacchio

Older student as well, in Bruno's class (has a cameo in Bruno's route and Bruno has a cameo in his later on). You probably end up meeting him from choosing to hang out with Bruno. Abbacchio doesn't really talk to you, mostly ignores you (which Bruno says that Leone is a nice guy, just going through some things).

Probably would be classified as the Bad Boy option, but that's not really what he's going for. His looks and attitude give him that rep.

His route begins by you going to find Bruno's usual spot you hang out in and there's only Abbacchio. You can choose to not talk to him or ask about Bruno. Talking gets points even though his answer is to be annoyed.

Definitely a bit tricky to romance at first until you learn what options to say. Likes being reassured, but not to a "You have done nothing wrong!" level. Also doesn't mind initiating conversations as long as it's not a dumb "So how are you doing?"

His route can seem slow burn or like not a lot is happening as opposed to other routes, but there are subtle things, and his character portrait does have tiny smiles or little ear blushes that people spam about online.

Definitely some grumbling from him if Giorno is another character you have a high relationship stat with.

Fugo

Ends up being your tutor if your intelligence stat is falling. Absolutely has a crush on you instantly if you're sweet and nice to him, but he doesn't do anything about it.

Tries to keep being the sweet, nice tutor but if your intelligence stat isn't at a certain level on a certain day (I figure this would be a dating sim that does the Day 1 through Day whatever as the ending) then you notice him losing patience and starting to be more of an ass with asking if you even give a damn.

And if your intelligence stat is what you focus on so you don't get the angry Fugo scenes then there's still a scene in his route where you see him going off just so you know how angry he can get. There's a lot of apologies from him with you seeing him that way. Honestly his route can be a bit triggering to some.

Like he'll never be the abusive romance option, but I'm not going to lie and say he immediately gets over his anger or whatever because of you. He will work on it as you advance with his route because he doesn't like the idea of upsetting or scaring you.

If you choose the wrong dialogue option, then you get a "Fugo walked away" because he thinks that's better than showing you his angry side all the time. There are so many memes about it on the internet.

Mista

I like the idea of the Player being told rumors of Mista and getting the option to say, "I can change him." and if that option is picked then the Player is instantly locked out of the relationship (flirting can happen and Player can go on one date with Mista, but nothing comes of it).

He's talked about being a playboy but he's really not. Like rumors are that he constantly dates a new girl each day or that he doesn't seem to give a damn about classes, but that's also not true.

Mista does flirt a bit when meeting the Player, but if you tell him off or seem shy then he laughs it off and tells you not to worry and that he'll try to not make you uncomfortable.

He's honestly just a dork and yeah, he's flirty, but it is mostly for fun, and he doesn't mind if nothing comes out of it. Mista does feel guilty if someone does get the wrong idea of his flirting and he does apologize.

While he seems like his route should be easy, it's also one of the more difficult ones. Very much a balance of engaging in his flirtiness but also being able to tell him to focus on other things and genuinely getting to know him.

Narancia

Kind of like Giorno, his route happens depending on your intelligence stat, but it doesn't have to be as high as it does with Giorno. Narancia just has abysmal grades, and he really has plans for the future that he wants to achieve, but learning is difficult for him.

Narancia is a sweetheart, but you need lots of patience. As you get to know Narancia, he starts bringing you sweets and stuff as thanks for tutoring him. Might ask you out to a movie as well.

He's very quick to crush on you and you do have the option to ask to slow down a bit, but he's just very sweet and does his best to make you proud.

He's the one that introduces you to Fugo, which can lead to the Love Triangle or just Fugo's route.

While Narancia can be a very easy route to complete, going with him causes you to end up in tricky situations due to your intelligence stat not increasing due to Narancia wanting to skip school with you to hang out all the time (if you're romancing Fugo too then it makes things extra tricky).

Trish

A lot of dating Sims or games with romance are a lot more inclusive now, but back in the day, Trish would be the Token Lesbian option everyone talked about (for better or worse).

Snotty rich girl, you overhear that her friends don't actually like Trish, but her dad has money.

Getting to know her, she's actually shy and sweet. She's just gone through a lot and finds it difficult to trust others. Very much enjoys relying on you as you gain her trust in the route.

Quick to jump to your defense too. There's probably a moment that other snooty girls start talking shit about her and you can step in and when they start talking crap about you then that's when Trish doesn't hold back.

Honestly at the start of her route, she figures you just want to get on her good side for her money. The first hangout causes her to snap at you at the end and throwing a wad of cash at you because that's obviously what you're really after. It ends with apologies and getting a huge stat jump in your relationship with her (you just need to make the right dialogue choices).

BONUS

Definitely some kind of Highschool/College setting (character ages would have to be messed with a bit). Giorno and Trish would be freshman; Bruno and Abbacchio would be Upperclassmen; and Mista, Fugo, and Narancia are in the same class with the Player. (Fugo is so smart he skipped a grade and that's why he's not a freshman)

Love triangle route with Bruno + Abbacchio. Abbacchio doesn't want to get in the way and watches you and Bruno interact from afar. Bruno wants Abbacchio to be happy for once in his life, but Bruno can't help being selfish too.

Love Triangle Route Fugo and Narancia. You have to be on Narancia's route and Narancia is the one that mentions Fugo having a crush on you. Fugo doesn't do anything to mess with it since he likes that Narancia is happy, but you can tell by Fugo's actions and his blushing that he's crushing.