#please save carmen

[asilentandkindersea]

carmen “my gf is bisexual and she choses me ? not some dickhead, me ! you bet i’m gonna workship that ass.” berzatto idea is in my notes bYE.

[carmen-in-space]

in dire need of some dirk & dave fics

[asilentandkindersea]

the “bde” comment made me giggle and i can only say i agree

What kinks do you think carmy has?

I have so many answers this based on the different Carmy’s I have built in my mind- so imma just go broad with this

First of all. PRAISE. like this goes both ways. He is always. A l w a y s praising you. Loves to call you his good girl and all that. He also loves it when you throw him praise too. It makes him go fucking insane. I really don’t think Carmy would be into degradation! I think the poor guy is a little too traumatized from New York and all the times he was yelled at.

second. Overstimulation. He will give you orgasm after orgasm until you cannot speak or think. He spends hours between your thighs. You try to push him away but he does. Not. Budge. Carmy refuses to stop until your legs start shaking. THEN he fucks you until the entire world goes hazy and you cannot tell up from down.

This leads into… dom and sub dynamics. I think this dynamic just lets him feel like he’s totally in control. To have someone listen to his every word- he’s actually done for. I see Carmy as more of a soft dom. Like he’s all about praising you. Yes, he’ll give you orders, but he’s not going to be “mean” to you. I think you’ll have to bring up harder punishments before he would even consider them. Once you bring up spankings, it quickly becomes his favorite way to punish you.

So along with the dom/sub dynamics… he melts when you call him dominant names in bed. The first one that comes to mind is ‘daddy’… but even just ‘sir’, or dare I say, ‘chef’. And of course he calls you all kinds of things in return, ‘princess’, ‘little girl’, ‘baby girl’, ‘sweetheart’, and the list goes on and on and on

He’s into cum play. I cannot pretend he isn’t. He can just stare at your cunt and watch his cum drip out of it. He’ll take his fingers and press it back up into you. If he can’t cum inside of you… he’s happy to cum all over your stomach. Carmy will run a finger through the mess and then tell you to suck his cum off of his finger. When you give him a blow job? Once he cums in your mouth, he gives you firm instructions not to swallow. Why? Because he wants you to stick your tongue out first so he can see his cum coating your mouth before you swallow. ( I can go on and on about cum play-)

I’m going to list one more! Tw for size kink ( I know it can make a lot of people uncomfortable!)

Carmy is well aware he’s not a tall guy. But he’s also well aware of his huge dick ( he has bde he just does). Oh my god he hits so deep inside of you it drives him up the wall. When he sees the bulge in your stomach he cannot help but press down on it with his hand. “Yeah? You feel that baby? Feel how deep my cock is inside of you? Is daddy’s cock too big for your little cunt?” Like he gets such a surge of power from his cock rendering you brainless.

[courtana]

📸 original photograph by Nikolas Gannon on Unsplash.

N.B.: These are all Palestinian fundraisers who have reached out to my inbox or my side-blog's inbox (@videogamepoc) from 21 July 2024 until 25 July 2024. More masterlists will be made for more campaigns. I cannot compile all of them in one text post due to tumblr's restrictions on the number of links per text post; therefore, this is a finalized masterlist.

These fundraisers are roughly listed in the chronlogical order in which I've received them. They have all been verified by other Palestinian accounts active on Tumblr. I am not vetting any myself, as I am not qualified. If you have a question of whether a fundraiser is vetted or would like to have one vetted, please ask another account that is able to do so. I’ll also be updating these as I get new asks.

See fundraisers from 25-26 of July here See fundraisers from 26 of July–Aug 3 here

—————

Donate to Khader & Ragheb • @khaderabushaban • verified by sayruq • €2,169 of €55,000

Donate to Amira • @ameera-anq • verified by ibtisams • €15,014 of €20,000

Donate to Fadi Ayyad • @aymanayyad81 • verified by nabulsi • $26,613 of $35,000

Donate to Hani Al-Sharif • @haniibrahimsh • verified by nabulsi • $3,629 of $50,000

Donate to Mohammed Alanqer • @mohammedalanqer •verified by nabulsi & 90-ghost • €42,676 of €58,000

Donate to Ahmed Alanqer • @ahmedabuyamin • verified by nabulsi • €16,338 of €35,000

Donate to Kareem & Carmen • @adham-89 • verified by ibtisams • $8,539 of $50,000

Donate to Walaa & her family • @burningnightgiver • verified by 90-ghost • $3,405CAD of $50,000

Donate to the Shamaly family • @familydeea • verified by nabulsi • $24,112CAD of $90,000

Donate to Basel Ayyad • @basel-1995 • verified by el-shab-hussein & nabulsi (#214) • CHF4,110 of CHF60,000

Donate to Ashraf Alanqar • @ashrafanqer • verified by 90-ghost • €9,393 of €30,000

Donate to Musab Abedraboo • @musababed • verified by 90-ghost • €1,572 of €7,000

Donate to Ahmed & his family • @ahmed-ziad • verified by nabulsi • £6,220 of £30,000

Donate to Alaa and her children • @alaakh9 • verified by ibtisams • €2,995 of €20,000

Donate to Dr. Mohammed Aldeeb • @mohammedaldeeb • verified by el-shab-hussein • €27,265 of €30,000

Donate to Mahmoud Khalaf • @mahmoudkhalafff • verified by el-shab-hussein & nabulsi • €14,326 of €30,000

Donate to Bilal Abed Rabou • @bilalassadabedrou • verified by 90-ghost • €2,797 of €80,000

Donate to Iyad Sami • @eyadeyadsblog • verified by northgazaupdates • CHF8,957 of CHF20,000

Donate to Wafa • @wafaaresh • verified by ana-bananya • €2,818 of €100,000

Donate to Muhammad Shehab • @mohammedshehabnew • verified by 90-ghost • €1,660 of €25,000

Donate to Reem Shebab's family • @malakshehab • verified by el-shab-hussein • €24,347 of €50,000

Donate to Suheir Hojok • @neverhate2024 • verified by el-shab-hussein & nabulsi (#71) • $39,061AUD of $70,000

Donate to Ahmed Abu Shammalah's family • @ahmed8311 • verified by el-shab-hussein & nabulsi (#161) • €10,748 of €100,000

Donate to Muhammad Atalla • @mohammed-atallah • verified by 90-ghost • €4,041 of €82,000

Donate to Moamen Majed • @moamenmajed99 • verified by 90-ghost • $5,727 of $30,000

Donate to Farah & her sister • @farahmoo • verified by nabulsi • €185 of €20,000

Donate to Mohammed Hijazi • @save-hijazi-family • verified by 90-ghost & northgazaupdates • €2,744 of €20,000.

Donate to Mohammed Hussein Ismaeel • @m0hammed1 • verified by ibtisams • €5,721 of €25,000

Donate to Ola • @olagaza • verified by el-shab-hussein & nabulsi (#205) • $7,593 of $20,000

Donate to Mohammed Shurrab • @684599 • verified by 90-ghost • €735 of €100,000

Donate to Munna Tashmali • @monashamali • verified by nabulsi • £4,962 of £30,000

Donate to Reham & Mohammed Hassouna • @rehamoworld • verified by 90-ghost • £380 raised of £35,000 goal

Donate to Karam Rafiq Al-Nabih • @karamrafeek • the Watermelon Warriors' Fundraiser List (#75) • €11,098 of €20,000

Donate to Ahmed & Abedelrahman Al-Nabih • @ahmedalnabeeh11 • verified by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi (#218) • €14,445 of €30,000

Donate to Shymaa Taiser • @shymaafamily • verified by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi (#141) • $8,020 of $50,000

Donate to Doaa Jad Al-Haq • @free-gaza2 • previous account verified by 90-ghost • $1,175 of $1,700

Donate to Abdul Muti Al-Habil • @abdelmutei • verified by 90-ghost • €1,232 of €50,000

Donate to Kariman Dohan • @karemandohan2 • verified by 90-ghost • $1,359 of $50,000

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

vetted fundraisers from today. please continue to support campaigns like these in whatever ways you're able. even if it doesn't seem like much to you, your contribution is helping to save someone's life

july 17th:

Safaa Al Khatib, her husband Muhammad Al-Thalateeni (photojournalist, suffered a severe head injury while working), and their two little daughters (€21,571/€35,000) - @safaakhatib, @safaakhateeb, @mohammed-123, verified by @/nabulsi

Mohammed Iwais and his nine brothers, all of whom have families of their own (kr20,260 SEK/kr500,000 SEK) - @mohdiwais, verified by @/90-ghost

Orphaned twins Kareem and Carmen, their grandparents, and their two aunts ($7,817/$50,000) - @adham-89, verified by @/90-ghost

The Ayyad family of eight, four of whom are children ($25,399/$35,000) - @aymanayyad82, @mayadayyad81, @aymanayyad81, verified by @/nabulsi

Muhammad Al-Habil, his wife, their three young children, and Muhammad's chronically ill parents (€11,599/€50,000) - @alhabil, @mohammedfamily11, @aya2mohammed, verified by @/el-shab-hussein

Reuniting four stranded children, one of whom needs urgent treatment for diabetes, with their parents ($7,092 CAD/$50,000 CAD) - @burningnightgiver, verified by @/90-ghost

The Shehab family of eight, including five children and their grandmother (€23,460/€50,000) - @malakshehab, @danashehab, verified by @/el-shab-hussein

Eman and her family of six ($379 CAD/$70,000 CAD) - @emhema1, verified by @/90-ghost

Helping Doaa Jad Al-Haq provide for her autistic son and evacuate the rest of their family, including a member who is paralyzed and needs urgent medical care (kr23,315 SEK/kr200,000 SEK) - @omarasaadb, verified by @/90-ghost

Hanaa Al-Lulu and her family (€2,823/€40,000) - @enghanalulu, verified by @/90-ghost

The six Maliha siblings (one with chronic respiratory illness) and their mother (they were separated from their father and don't know where he is) (€35,445/€50,000) - @dinamaliha, #160 on @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi's spreadsheet

Mohammed Haboub and his family of three (kr20,412 SEK/kr300,000 SEK) - @mohammedhaboubsblog, verified by @/90-ghost

Reham Hassouna, her husband Mohammed, and their three little daughters (all suffering from acute dehydration and malnutrition) (£110/£35,000) - @rehamoworld, verified by @/90-ghost

Helping Mahmoud Abu Hamam rebuild his family's destroyed home ($1,510/$25,000) - @ma7moudgaza2, #149 on @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein's spreadsheet

Evacuating Firas Muhaisen's family of six (including three children) and continuing he and his sister's medical education (very time sensitive, short-term goal of $6,000 CAD needed by August 1st) ($3,165 CAD/$82,000 CAD) - @firasmuhaisenn, @hashem-fromgaza, @nisreenameen, verified by @/90-ghost

not yet vetted:

Salem Alanqar, his wife Hadeel, their two little children, Salem's chronically ill parents, and his five siblings, three of whom are under 18 (kr675 SEK/kr990,000 SEK) - @salemanqar

Mahmood, his wife Nedaa, and their two children, Shahd and Alaa (€30/€30,000) - @linasafadi

Hoda and her 4-year-old daughter Rita (unknown amount) - @retahuda

Safaa, her husband, their baby Amir, and Safaa's mother, who needs treatment for diabetes ($1,036/$75,000) - @safaaasad1998

Mohammed and his five young children (€25/€15,000) - @mhammed

Nabil Zaqout, his wife, and their three little children (€195/€60,000) - @nabilzaq23

Rozan and her family of six (€0/€40,000) - @rozanallidawi

i know clicking through links can seem like a drag, but i beg you to push through it for the sake of these families. they need our help and support more than ever

[ham1lton]

at this point lando is outside merc hospitality like 🧍🏻 bc lewis won’t let him comment on yn’s photos 😭

author’s note: dream girl universe is now a series! lando is going thru it in this smau 😭 someone save my boy. idk if this dress can even be considered papaya but assume it is x

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe and 972,627 others.

yourusername: got a new assistant today! asked him for a pepsi and he got me a coke… should i fire him yes or no 🤔

view all 31,827 comments

landonorris: NO 😔 accidents happen x

lewishamilton: YES! and report him to the police x

maxverstappen: why are you wearing papaya? are you joining the dark side 😒

-> yourusername: yes. sorry to tell you that i am now oscarpiastri’s wag.

-> landonorris: NOOOOOOOOO

user1: yn u look yummy

user2: FIRE HIM!!!

-> landonorris: WHAT U SAY FUCK ME FOR 😭

user3: omg yn let lando out of his cage

user9: what do you need an assistant for?

-> yourusername: for fun 🤩

user6: ROSCOE MY BABY

-> user7: NEW ROSCOE PIC, EVERYONE CHEERED!

user8: QUEEN DO ANOTHER IG LIVE PLEASE

-> yourusername: i will!!! i’ll see if i can get any special guests to join <3::

georgerussell63: yn carmen says you look hot but her phone died when she was typing a love letter to you. also she says are you coming to my win party tonight.

-> yourusername: tell her i love her so much!! <33 also no i’m a hater so i’m having my own lando dnf party.

-> landonorris: WHAT

-> landonorris: HELLO 😭

-> landonorris: am i invited 🤨

user4: WAIT YN CONFIRMED OSCARYN???

-> user5: WAG YN INCOMING!!!

oscarpiastri: babe where are you

-> yourusername: omw xx

-> oscarpiastri: okay be careful 💕

-> landonorris: OH IM GONNA BE SICK

-> landonorris: STOMACH TURNING

-> landonorris: SLEEPING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOTORWAY TONIGHT

-> landonorris: WORST DAY OF MY LIFE

-> landonorris: WHY ARE YOU ALLOWING THIS TO HAPPEN lewishamilton ?????

-> lewishamilton: because it’s funny x

[souldagger]

palestinian fundraisers pt.2

(part 1) (post made on 03/09/24, updated 15/09)

these are the fundraisers from palestinians that have personally reached out to me recently - please be so kind as to share & donate if you are able:

Help Youssef Provide Medicine and Shelter || @yousefjehad3 || $8,181 / $15,000 USD || #255 on the Vetted Fundraisers List HALFWAY

Please help my family in Gaza || @maram-gaza || €620 / €70,000 || vetted by association VERY LOW + STAGNATED

Support War-Affected Children's Future || @ahmadwaleed5 || $9,170 / $25,000 USD #167 on the Vetted Fundraisers List 1/3 THERE

Please help Muhammad and his family escape from Gaza || @mhammedmosa || $2,690 / $20,000 USD || vetted by association

Help Mohammed support his relatives in Gaza || @mo-shamia || $63,815 / $70,000 USD || #7 on the Vetted Fundraisers List CLOSE TO GOAL

Evacuate Kareem & Carmen NOW from Gaza || @adham-89 ||$12,237 / $50,000 USD || vetted here by @/90-ghost

Help my family to live and go to a safe place || @mahaahmad11 || £6,886 / £81,000 || #163 on the Vetted Fundraisers List

Save my family in Gaza Strip.. Help my family's children || @sara-97a || €1,302 / €50,000 || vetted here by @/90-ghost VERY LOW + STAGNATED

Help Mahmoud's Family Overcome War Tragedy || @mahmoud-sharif2 || $10,231 / $60,000 USD || vetted here by @/90-ghost

04/09/24:

Rebuilding the Homeland and Restoring Hope: Hani's Journey || @hanialanqar || €320 / €25,000 || vetted by association VERY LOW

Help Mohammed and his family get through this war in Gaza || @m8hammed || €9,999 / €25,000 || vetted here by @/ibtisams before they deactivated ALMOST HALFWAY

Help Ahmed Khalil's family evacuate to safety || @ahmed0khalil || €2,498 / €50,000 || vetted here by @/90-ghost VERY LOW

12/09/24:

Help Hashem's Family Escape Gaza || @hashem19798 || $1,492 / $60,000 USD || vetted here by @/90-ghost VERY LOW

Support Safaa's Quest To Get Her Family To Safety. || @safaa18mero || $15,071 / $75,000 USD || vetted here by @/90-ghost

Help me to be able to move from war to a safe place || @moh26 || 5,341 / 300,000 SEK || vetted here by @/90-ghost VERY LOW ($10 USD ≈ 100 SEK)

15/09/24:

Evacuate Yousef and his family from Gaza || @hanaa32youseef || £17,708 / £50,000 || vetted here by @/90-ghost 1/3 THERE

Support Fatima's Family in Gaza After Heartbreaking Tragedy || @fatma-anqer || €8,933 / €20,000 || vetted here by @/90-ghost ALMOST HALFWAY

[animusrox]

TOP 10

Past Lives

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

How to Blow Up a Pipeline

Poor Things

Oppenheimer

Barbie

BlackBerry

The Holdovers

The Iron Claw

Killers of the Flower Moon

MY LETTERBOXD Grade A 11.    The Killer 12.    Beau Is Afraid 13.    Dream Scenario 14.    Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 15.    Godzilla Minus One 16.    American Fiction 17.    They Cloned Tyrone 18.     Evil Dead Rise 19.    Eileen 20.    The Artifice Girl 21.   Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem 22.    Talk to Me 23.    Reality 24.    Leave the World Behind 25.    A Thousand and One 26.    Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One 27.    Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. 28.    Theater Camp 29.   Carmen 30.    Merry Little Batman 31.    Priscilla 32.    Society of the Snow 33.    Infinity Pool 34.    Enys Men 35.    Sanctuary 36.    Rye Lane 37.    Skinamarink 38.    Monster 39.    Anatomy of a Fall 40.    Landscape with Invisible Hand 41.    Reptile 42.    Sisu 43.    Pinball: The Man Who Saved the Game 44.    No One Will Save You 45.    Tetris 46.    May December 47.    The Zone of Interest 48.    V/H/S/85 49.    Dumb Money 50.    El Conde 51.    Arnold 52.    Maestro 53.    Napoleon 54.    20 Days in Mariupol 55.    Influencer 56.    The Creator 57.    Origin 58.    Thanksgiving 59.    Next Goal Wins 60.    The Boy and the Heron 61.    Bottoms 62.    Wonka

[Press Keep Reading For The Full Graded List]

Grade B

63.   God Is a Bullet 64.    No Hard Feelings 65.    Joy Ride 66.    Fair Play 67.     Cocaine Bear 68.    NYAD 69.    Asteroid City 70.    Nowhere 71.    The Angry Black Girl and Her Monster 72.    Divinity 73.    The Equalizer 3 74.    The Last Voyage of the Demeter 75.    Venus 76.    Butcher’s Crossing 77.    Somewhere in Queens 78.    The Persian Version 79.    Boston Strangler 80.    Polite Society 81.    Miguel Wants to Fight 82.    The Color Purple 83.    The Royal Hotel 84.    Saw X 85.    All of Us Strangers 86.    Fallen Leaves 87.    Ferrari 88.    Elemental 89.    Peter Pan & Wendy 90.    Renfield 91.    Cat Person 92.    Scream VI 93.    The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes 94.    BS High 95.    Blue Beetle 96.    Huesera: The Bone Woman 97.    When Evil Lurks 98.    Dark Harvest 99.    A Good Person 100.    Final Cut 101.    Knock at the Cabin 102.    Quiz Lady 103.    Leo 104.    Air 105.    The Super Mario Bros. Movie 106.    Batman: The Doom That Came to Gotham 107.    John Wick: Chapter 4 108.    Beaten to Death 109.    The Wrath of Becky 110.    Passages 111.    Transformers: Rise of the Beasts 112.    Gran Turismo 113.    65 114.    Sick 115.    Sister Death 116.    The Blackening 117.    Please Don’t Destroy: The Treasure of Foggy Mountain 118.    Flamin’ Hot 119.    Nimona 120.    Cobweb 121.    Totally Killer 122.    What’s Love Got to Do with It? 123.     Sharper 124.    Unseen 125.    Dunki 126.    Bird Box Barcelona 127.    The Marvels 128.    Shazam! Fury of the Gods

Grade C

129.   Wildflower 130.    Freelance 131.    M3GAN 132.    Strays 133.    Sympathy for the Devil 134.    Creed III 135.    Chevalier 136.    The Marsh King’s Daughter 137.    A Haunting in Venice 138.    The Little Mermaid 139.    Silent Night 140.    Master Gardener 141.    The Flash 142.    Fast X 143.    The Pope’s Exorcist 144.    Saltburn 145.    Kandahar 146.    Stand 147.    Plane 148.   Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny 149.    Fingernails 150.    Quicksand 151.    Fool’s Paradise 152.    Migration 153.    Rustin 154.    The Covenant 155.    Good Burger 2 156.    The Pod Generation 157.    Alice, Darling 158.    Insidious: The Red Door 159.    Missing 160.    Shotgun Wedding 161.    You Hurt My Feelings 162.    The Boogeyman 163.    Showing Up 164.    Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom 165.    Champions 166.    Consecration 167.    The Nun II 168.    Biosphere 169.    House Party 170.    The Exorcist: Believer 171.    Big George Foreman 172.    Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves 173.    Children of the Corn 174.    The Beanie Bubble 175.    Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania

Grade F

176.    Anyone But You 177.    Marlowe 178.    Paint 179.    Extraction 2 180.    It Lives Inside 181.    Deliver Us 182.    Trolls Band Together 183.    Finestkind 184.    Corner Office 185.    Wish 186.    Prisoner’s Daughter 187.    Pain Hustlers 188.    Foe 189.    The Mother 190.    Old Dads 191.    Ghosted 192.    Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken 193.    Haunted Mansion 194.    Mafia Mamma 195.    Five Nights at Freddy’s 196.    The Machine 197.    Justice League: Warworld 198.    We Have a Ghost 199.    What Comes Around 200.    Legion of Super-Heroes 201.    The Boys in the Boat 202.    Attachment 203.    Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre 204.    About My Father 205.    You People 206.    Meg 2: The Trench 207.    Pathaan 208.    Rebel Moon - Part One: A Child of Fire 209.    Assassin 210.    Dalíland 211.    Vacation Friends 2

Bottom 10

212.    Sound of Freedom 213.    Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey 214.    When You Finish Saving The World 215.    Heart of Stone 216.    Family Switch 217.    Expend4bles 218.    Sweetwater 219.    Hypnotic 220.    80 for Brady 221.    Spinning Gold

[carmenized-onions]

Do the Thing! | Toilet Repair

logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.

series history; Previous Chapter

portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).

you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.

“I think my name is just Tony now.”

You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.

“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”

This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.

Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.

You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”

She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”

“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”

“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”

“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”

“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”

“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”

She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”

“Good things?”

“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”

You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”

“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”

“The connection?”

“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”

“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”

She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”

Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”

“Ah. N’ then…”

“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”

She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”

“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”

“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”

You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.

“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”

You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”

She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.

Off to fix an exploded toilet.

“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”

Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.

“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.

“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”

“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”

You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”

“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”

“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”

He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”

“Not a Chef!”

“Term of Respect, Chef!”

You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.

You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.

Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.

“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.

“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”

Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”

“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”

“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”

You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”

“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”

That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”

His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...

She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”

You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”

“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.

“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?

You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”

“Did they?”

Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”

You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.

“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.

She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”

This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.

It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.

But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.

On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”

They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”

He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”

“Really gonna practice your set on me?”

He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”

You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”

“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.

When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.

“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.

“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”

He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”

“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.

You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.

“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”

The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.

He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”

“I’m doing okay, yeah.”

Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.

You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”

He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”

Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.

He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.

“What the fuck?”

Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.

“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.

“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”

“In The Beef!”

“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”

He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”

He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.

“Well?” You start.

“Well?” He astutely adds.

You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”

“The thing?”

You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.

“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”

“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”

You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.

Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.

“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”

He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.

He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.

He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.

He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”

“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.

“Huh?”

You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”

You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.

You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”

You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…

“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.

“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”

“Should get Fak on that, then.”

“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”

You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”

“If you’ll take it.”

“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”

“How’s that going?”

You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”

“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.

“How’s the second day open going?”

“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”

You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”

“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”

Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—

The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”

There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.

The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.

“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”

“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”

He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”

You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.

Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.

You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”

Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.

Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.

Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.

After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”

She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.

It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…

“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.

I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”

“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”

Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”

She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”

“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.

“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.

“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”

You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”

You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”

“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.

Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.

You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”

“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”

He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”

He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”

“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”

He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Do the thing.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”

“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.

“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”

He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”

Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.

“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.

He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”

You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”

He squints. “…How’re you—”

“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.

“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”

With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.

“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”

He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.

“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”

He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.

“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.

“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”

You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”

He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”

“Heard.”

You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”

He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”

“It is.”

“Oh.”

“But in a way you can fix.”

“How?”

“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”

“You can’t take yourself?”

“Bitch?”

“Kidding. Heard. What else?”

“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.

He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”

“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”

“The chaos menu? She said—”

“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”

He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”

“You’re reactive.”

“No shit.”

“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”

He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”

“It had been 23 minutes.”

“Oh.”

“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”

“…No.”

“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”

He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.

“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”

He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”

“I will not.”

“You just said I was a catastrophe.”

“Fully not what I said.”

“I read between the lines.”

“Carmen.”

You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”

He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”

“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.

“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.

You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”

He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”

“First restaurant too?”

He nods again.

“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”

There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.

“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”

“You’ll do better next time.”

He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”

“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.

“At what? Self-help?”

He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”

You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.

You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.

…

When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.

“Fucking Mikey!”

“What’d he do this time?”

You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”

She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”

“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”

“Oh.”

“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”

“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”

“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”

“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”

“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”

She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.

“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.

“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”

She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”

All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.

“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”

Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.

“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”

You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”

“Does it?”

“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.

She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?

“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”

You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.

“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”

You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.

“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”

You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”

You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”

“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”

“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.

“But?”

“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”

She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”

“It’s done. I’ll be there.”

“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”

Fuck.

Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.

Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!

Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!

Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!

Next Part

[skipppppy]

My favourite character from Carmen Sandiego (2019) that gets absolutely zero screen time is the pilot that flies their private jet. The unspoken hero of the franchise. The 6th member of Team Red who hates all of them but is still part of their squad as a technicality. Yeah it could’ve been a bunch of different pilots but it’s way funnier to imagine that it’s just one guy who is being held hostage by these four socially stunted teenagers who (somehow) have more money than god and don’t stay in a country any longer than a week. They are SO jetlagged. Please save them

[asilentandkindersea]

reader being a musical lover (theater kid here) and every time when carmy comes home he hears reader singing musicals in the kitchen

[dreamingawayyour1ife]

Hello dears ! I am asking you to support my campaign to help me to reach my goal. I am now in bad need to your support to help me stay alive and safe. Gaza is a very dangerous place either on the level of livelihood or on the level of souls. I need your monetary support to ensble me to get the basic needs for my family till Rafah crossing point reopens to move my family to safety and peace.Pleasd help a family be alive through your small donations or througn your shares to others.Thank you so much for your stand beside people in need .

please help evacute Hussin's family from Gaza, even a small donation helps

[thebearer]

could you do a subtle (maybe teering on mid/heavy) dominance with carm and they’re getting ready for bed ? ( you don’t have to do getting ready for bed it just the first thing that came to mind) anyways thanks in advance !!



You walked through the door, shedding your clothes with each step. "I can not fucking wait to get in this bed, and I swear to God I'm not leaving it all day tomorrow." You huffed, flinging a shoe then the other towards the closet door.

Carmen snorted lightly, setting down his phone to look at you. "Yeah? Sounds good t'me, baby. You know I won't stop you." He grinned, lazy and sweet, your chest feeling with warmth.

You rolled your eyes lightly, bending over to shimmy out of your jeans. Carmen's eyes were trained on you, tongue running over his bottom lip. "Was the dinner that bad?" He asked. He got his answer with how hard you flung the jeans towards the hamper.

"The worst, Carm." You huffed, falling dramatically on the bed beside him. "I don't understand what the purpose of a work dinner even is. We didn't even fucking work, and the food was so disgusting, I couldn't even eat it-"

"-Hold on." Carmen held up his hand, eyes cutting to you. "You didn't eat? You didn't eat at all?"

You huffed, an eye roll of a sigh that had Carmen's brow raising at you. "No, Carmy, I didn't eat. It was disgusting. I couldn't even fake it. Plus, with how much Tonya was talking, I didn't really get a chance."

"Baby, that's not..." Carmen was already rolling out of bed.

"Carmen." You groaned, rolling over to the other side of the bed. "I'm fine. I'll be alright."

"You're hungry." Carmen insisted, one look at you and he could see the way you paused, just a passing second, but it was enough for him to know he was right. "What do you want to eat, huh? I've got a left over sandwich in the fridge or-or I can make you somethin'."

"I'll be fine, Carmy, please." You whined, pushing up on your arms to watch him pad down the hall. "Come back to bed. I just wanna sleep."

"I'm not letting you go to bed on an empty stomach. I know you haven't eaten shit since this morning," True. "And I know you didn't drink any water today, and you'll wake up all sad and sick tomorrow and be in a terrible fuckin' mood." Also true. Carmen knew it, the finality of his voice told you that.

"I will not." You pouted, crossing your arms over your bare chest.

"I'm not arguin' with you about this." Carmen's tone was firm- final. It sent chills down your spine, thighs pressing together. "So what did Tonya talk about?"

"Her kids. One wants to be a chef and she was asking me pointers, like I would know." You rolled your eyes, shimmying your body half off the bed to grab one of Carmen's shirts- your favorite one to sleep in, slipping it over your body.

"Tell her to tell them to not fuckin' do it, that's my advice." Carmen muttered, a plate clattering on the counter.

You could feel the guilt settling in your tummy, in a deep pit that had you fidgeting. The guilt of Carmen taking care of you, when you'd been to careless to do it yourself. You knew he didn't mind but it still made you feel a little uneasy, even when he brought the sandwich in, glass of water in his free hand.

"You really didn't have to do that, Carmy. I was fine." You muttered, looking at the plate in front of you.

"Stop." Carmen shook his head at you. "Eat, alright? Don't need to be goin' all day without eatin'. You know that."

"I could afford to miss a meal, I promise. I'd be alright." Though your tone was teasing, playing on the edge of a joke, Carmen found it anything but funny.

"What did you just say?" Carmen's eyes were hard, cutting like his tone. You paused, looking at him carefully. It was a tone he rarely used, saved it for the kitchen. Only bringing it out on times when he was really upset.

"I was just-"

"Don't you ever let me hear you say some shit like that again, you hear me?" Carmen's jaw flexed, shaking his head at you. You could feel the warmth spreading from your cheeks to your chest. Embarrassment? Maybe at being chastised like that. But judging by the dull ache between your legs, you knew it was probably something else.

"Eat your food." Carmen nodded, still firm but with a softer edge this time.

You didn't argue, his tone was final, you were hungry, and, fuck, was that sandwich good. A classic Italian sub with a positively Carmy twist on it. Carmen waited until you finished your water- after having to remind you to finish it with so much as a sigh and a "there's that much left, just drink it f'me please?"- pulling you under the covers with him to listen to the rest of your dinner.

You felt better. Soured attitude dissipated and the dull headache forming behind your eyes was gone, no longer thudding with every beat of your heart.

[snototter]

A Palestine sunbird (Cinnyris osea) perches on a hibiscus

by Artemy Voikhansky

I have had several Palestinian bloggers reach out to this blog for help with their GoFundMe campaigns in dire need of donations. If you can spare even a few dollars for just one of these campaigns, it could change somebody's whole life. If you can't, please reblog this post and share to people who potentially can.

@ranin3344 - Help Rebuild Our Lives in Gaza After Devastating War €8,618 raised of €80,000 vetted by 90s-ghost

@majedgaza1 - Rebuilding Hope: A Gaza Family in Need of Your Help $4,886 raised of $70,000 appears to be vetted

@ronzaanqar - Helping Ahmed's Family: Escaping War to a New Life €59,330 raised of €75,000 vetted and on the spreadsheet

Mohammed M Siam - Help Mohammed Rebuild His Home And Complete His Education $15 raised of $25,000 vetted by association & extremely low on funds!!

@yosef-hussin - Evacuate Kareem & Carmen NOW from Gaza $12,037 raised of $50,000 vetted by 90s-ghost

@yasermohammad - Help my Uncel’s family , BE THE CHANGE €21,989 raised of €35,000 vetted by 90s-ghost

@anasbatran - help me save my family from the war on Gaza, $5,685 raised of $35,000, in the process of being vetted and seems legitimate

@samaagaza - Help me and my family in Gaza $1,075 AUD raised of $20,000, vetted as far as i can tell

@d-mohammed - Safe my Family €4,557 raised of €100,000 donation protected + campaign was verified at one point but the post for that can no longer be found

@familyetaf1234567 - Please help us get out of life's crises and the woes of war. €1,898 raised of €50,000 not yet vetted but ris is clean + donation protected

@asma-family - Help Asmaa Abed Find Safety $837 raised of $20,000 , not yet verified but donation protected

@severekidpersona - Help osama and his family in Gaza €60 raised of €37,000 not yet vetted/verified

[dropitpunk]

luca and carmen berzatto both being into you

carmen berzatto x gn!reader x luca

warnings: suggestive content, they want you badly.

there's a pt.2!

it was well known by all the chefs that luca and carmen were in a constant ego competition in the kitchen.

you didn't have given it much thought until that competition extended to you.

luca was a good friend outside of work. he was warm and attentive to you when you needed support, always offering a shoulder to rest or kind words of encouragement if you felt like giving up. luca would tighten up your apron before starting your shift and rub your back in a comforting manner, making sure you had no worries about yourself.

you liked him a lot. and that still didn't change when you met carmen berzatto.

carmen was much more quiet and reserved, always focused on his work or having his face buried in a cooking book. his eyebrows were furrowed every time you would greet him, but you didn't take it to heart, carmen just seemed like an anxious person.

you didn't talk much, but he always helped you carry heavy ingredients and sharpen your knife along with his so you didn't have to do more work. carmen would tell you to be careful with the heat every once in a while, not wanting the chocolate cake in the oven to burn. he was very polite to you, and that was one of the reasons you couldn't understand why luca didn't like him.

"he's always trying to fuck me over. mess with me. try to get me to fail." luca would tell you all the time in the changing room, visibly distressed. you just didn't see it, keeping a good imagine of carmen in your head. your hands would find luca's shoulders, rubbing slowly while resting your chin on the top of his head. try to get me to fail in front of you, he wanted to say.

"maybe you just don't know him enough and he gave you the wrong impression." you carefully chose your words to not upset luca, missing the way his jaw clenched.

"and you do? you know him enough?" he spat, suddenly taking your hands off him and getting up, face close to yours. his breath was quick in your cheeks, eyes glowing in annoyance. you gulped, shaking your head in negative.

sighing, you looked at his lips and back to his eyes. chest full of worry and care for the man in front of you. "just try not to let it get to you, luc."

the next morning you came earlier to the restaurant to clear your head and focus on your new recipe, finding carmen already there.

it was just the two of you, and he caught you by surprise as he asked you if you already had breakfast.

"i made some pancakes for me, but i can put something together real fast if you don't like it." carmen said shyly and pointed to the plate with beautifully plated pancakes, dripping with the perfect amount of syrup and butter.

you smiled and his heart fluttered, you two ate in silence saved by your hums of delight and hushed praises.

luca and carmen were even more harsh to each other that day, arguing like children over pointless things in the kitchen.

"can you try this?" luca came to you with a spoon full of dessert and held it to your mouth, smiling when you nodded and welcomed it in your tongue.

your eyes widened, "this is really good, chef. great job."

luca was euphoric, going back to his station with your pleased expression in his mind. he didn't notice carmen watching him with a different look in eyes.

you were struggling with a jam jar, trying to get it open for minutes to finish your dish. too embarrassed to ask for help, you were grateful when you locked eyes with a familiar blue plair.

"here, let me help you." carmen dried his hands on his apron and took the jar out of your hands with an amused tiny smile, opening the lid with ease.

you couldn't help but look at his muscles straining against his pristine white shirt, tattoos on full display. his curls were falling in his eyes, and you suppressed the urge to reach out and brush it.

"thank you, carmy." you beamed and he nodded, looking around your station to see if there was anything else he could do to make his stay a bit longer.

after your shift ended, there was only you, carmen and luca left.

you three were cleaning the kitchen in a dreadful silence, air thick with tension.

"can someone bring me a broom?" you asked quietly. you could swear it was right by your side and now it was gone. both luca and carmen turned to you, getting up at the same time.

"i can get it." luca said through gritted teeth, making carmen roll his eyes.

"i'm faster than you, i'm getting it." carmen refuted and you sighed tiredly, getting up yourself.

i'm just gonna go get it." you left carmen and luca as they looked at you astonished, bickering and following you to the small broom closet after sharing a knowing smirk.

you entered it, luca and carmen mirroring it so they could help you in a childish competition to see who was faster.

"wait, just be careful not to..." you paused when you heard the click of the door closing. it was broken for ages and the chefs joked that one day someone was going to end up locked in there as it wouldn't open from the inside. you found it funny, but now you couldn't find your laugh.

"dumb fuckhead," carmen cursed and luca looked offended over your shoulder, absently pressing up against your back so he could point a finger at carmen.

"you pushed me and now you're pretending to be innocent!" luca exclaimed agitated and carmen came closer to you, chest glued to the front of your body so he could lower luca's finger himself.

luca reached over you to flick carmen's ear, his groin now rubbing against your ass. carmen held your waist to avoid it, the other hand trying to slap luca.

you were perfectly situated between the two, your face red and skin starting to sweat.

"guys, can we please try to get out of here?" that seemed to bring their attention, as they immediately looked at you. you stilled, looking at carmen's attentive eyes and feeling luca's hand on the other side of your waist.

"i'm sorry, it's just so cramped in here," luca said against your ear and you blinked quickly, missing the look he shared with carmen.

a finger was now finding the way under your shirt, slow and teasing.

"we will have to wait until someone finds us."

you didn't notice that right behind carmen was the same broom you thought mysteriously disappeared and made you three come to the closet, and you certainly didn't notice that over the past days luca and carmen had finally found something they both wanted, you.

a/n: i can continue this if you guys get any interested!

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

today's vetted fundraisers. please continue to donate if you have the means and share regardless. these families urgently need our help and support

july 12th:

Aseel Asaad and her family of ten, including her chronically ill mother and her father, who needs treatment for a stroke (kr11,752 SEK/kr200,000 SEK) - @aseelooooo, verified by @/90-ghost

2-year-old Yousef, who needs lifesaving treatment for a blood disease, and his parents Samer and Dima (€2,904/€25,000) - @sameryussef91, @dima96yousef, verified by @/90-ghost

Rajaa, Khaled, and their one-year-old son ($1,058 CAD/$20,000 CAD) - @khaleedgaza, @rajaagaza, verified by @/90-ghost

Reuniting Mahmoud Helles with his wife (needs urgent treatment for kidney illness) for and their four children after seven years of separation (€21,868/€31,000) - @hillesmahmoud, verified by @/nabulsi

Mahmoud Khalaf's family of eight, including several children (€12,451/€30,000) - @mahmoudkhalafff, #151 on @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein's spreadsheet

Munna Tashmali and her three children (this is the third time they've lost their home) (£2,463/£30,000) - @monashamali, verified by @/nabulsi

Safaa, Abed, and their two little children (€5,955/€50,000) - @abedalazeiz, @safaabed8, verified by @/90-ghost

Reuniting four children (one needing treatment for diabetes) with their parents ($6,093 CAD/$50,000 CAD) - @burningnightgiver, verified by @/90-ghost

Mohammed Al Manasra (needs care and medicine for chronic respiratory conditions), his wife, and their three little children (the family has already lost many members) (€21,834/€40,000) - @save-mohamed-family, #192 on @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi's spreadsheet

Helping autistic 5-year-old Omar Jad Al-Haq recover and evacuating the rest of his family (kr12,521 SEK/kr200,000 SEK) - @doaa-jad, verified by @/90-ghost

Muhammad Atallah (who urgently needs surgery after being shot with an explosive bullet) and his family of 12, including a newborn (€1,699/€82,000) - @mohammed-atallah, verified by @/90-ghost

Orphaned twins Kareem and Carmen, their grandparents, and their two aunts ($7,402/$50,000) - @adham-89, verified by @/90-ghost

Muhammad Shehab, his wife Hyam, and their two young children (€1,072/€25,000) - @mohammedshehab333, @hyamshehab, verified by @/sayruq

Dentist Nasser Mohamed and his family of four (£6,807/£50,000) - @nassermohamd, verified by @/nabulsi

Ahmed Alanqar, his wife Dina, and their four young children, one a newborn (€26,422/€35,000) - @ahmednimer, #174 on @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi's spreadsheet

Helping Tawfik Satoom continue his education ($612/$20,000) - @tawfiksatooom, #238 on the operation olive branch spreadsheet

Mohammed Haboub and his family of four (kr19,460 SEK/kr300,000 SEK) - @mohammedhaboubsblog, verified by @/90-ghost

not yet vetted:

Helping Asmaa Majed evacuate her family and complete her education ($298/$50,000) - @asma-1s-blog

Wafaa Resh and her family, including several children and her chronically ill mother (€390/€100,000) - @wafaaresh

Intisar Abushammaleh, her seven children, and her newborn granddaughter ($7,981/$40,000) - @entesarfares2013

Eman and her family of six ($339 CAD/$70,000 CAD) - @emhema1

Falastin Iwais's family (kr410 SEK/kr2,000,000 SEK) - reach out to @falasten-iw for more details

Helping Mohammed Bilal Rezeq complete his medical education and evacuate his family ($5/$30,000) - @mohammedbilals-blog

i know posts like these with a lot of links are unappealing, but please push past that for the sake of these families and individuals. they have as much right to live and pursue their dreams as anyone else