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THE BEAR 1.05 Sheridan
#the bear#thebearedit#the bear fx#carmy berzatto#tvedit#televisiongifs#cinematv#dailyflicks#filmtvcentral#filmtvdaily#tvarchive#userreh#userallisyn#usergal#useriselin#carmy#richie#neil#s1#*
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and ken
#Jjk#satosugu#Jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#geto suguru#jjk satoru#Gojo#tales from the borderlands#Tftbl#handsome jack#rhys strongfork#Rhys#rhack#gravity falls#stanford pines#Ford pines#bill cipher#billford#nerdy prudes must die#Npmd#max jagerman#Richie#richie lipschitz#Michie#i do also like grace and Max#Maybe a bit more too#But for the Yaoi I’ll do this one lol
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diverting your attention


pairing: carmy / reader
synopsis: bored, you show up to the restaurant, hoping to see your boyfriend and his infamous French fries that he only made for you.
warnings: cussing, light shoving. fluff mostly!
enjoy!
jesus, the restaurant was busy. a line ran out the door, swerved to the right and took up most of the sidewalk with customers waiting for their chance at the food.
carmy couldn’t blame them. he’s been on top of things— his team has been on top of things, listening, working together finally after what seemed like years of bickering and useless nonsense.
his hands moved fast. chopping meat there, seasoning and mashing over here.
there was no end, everyone had their station—their place.
“cus, your girls here!” richies voice boomed past him as carmy worked diligently to scrape away at the newfound mission to potatoes.
“uh huh,” not hearing him, but giving an answer he sliced the remainder of the vegetable before wiping his hands clean; always ready for a new task.
“Did you even fucking here me you dimwit?” A scowl remained on Richie’s face as he side eyed the white shirted man.
Another mumble left the cook and that was all Richie’s temper could take.
With a hard shove to the back, carmys attention was finally diverted. Turning back, the chef violently put his hand up from the startling touch.
“What the fuck, man?!”
“I. Said. Your. Girl. Is. Here.” With every pause on the intonations a poke found its way across carmys chest.
“Okay, okay. I fucking heard you.”
“No you didn’t!” Richie retaliated, moving past him to grab at the now chopped vegetable.
“And you took my fucking task you asshole.”
Carmy eyed him.
“Maybe if you weren’t so slow all the damn time.”
A high pitched version of carmys words came out as an argument, only making the man roll his eyes in such a childish play.
Rubbing his hands dry once more carmy moved towards the front of the kitchen.
And sure enough, there you sat.
all pretty and perfect and— did he say pretty?
sweating from a newfound nervousness carmy itched at his neck, a bad habit that he couldn’t seem to scrape away, no matter the amount of threats and glares you sent his way.
“hey pretty girl,” carmy stood just above you, next to your seated booth, more to the side and cut off from the rest of the avid enjoyers.
“bear!” you smiled, already opening your arms for a tight embrace.
he always smelled so good. musky, heavy. it was the manliest scent you’ve ever had the opportunity of smelling. yet there was always something sweeter there— cinnamon? no, cherries? possibly—
“baby?” warm fingers found their way under your chin, instantly bringing you back to the busy food chain your surrounded in.
“mmh, sorry hunny what was that?”
“i said I’ll be a little late tonight. more people showed up than i thought they would and uh, I’ll probably be pulling an all nighter.” guilt bit at the man’s tongue, already sensing your disappointment.
but you hid it well, a pretty smile lit up your face still, your hands met with his rougher one, smoothing and tending to it out of habit.
“that’s okay, i understand,” you looked past carmy to see Richie, motioning you to get the attention of the man.
noticing your distracted eyes, carmy turned his head and saw his cousin quickly motioning him over to the back.
“—I, i gotta go baby but listen,” eyes on your doe ones, he leaned in.
warm breath met with your cheeks and you couldn’t help but smile as the man bent down so close to your face.
“ill bring by those French fries you love so much,”
“with the seasoning?”
“with the seasoning.” carmy laughed
you couldn’t help but let out a little squeal, wrapping your arms around the neck of your boyfriends shirt.
“ill see you soon, okay?”
you nodded.
“okay.”
A kiss, light and soft was placed on your lips. It lasted only a second before the man waved sympathetically before turning his back to you, flipping Richie off in the process.
satisfied, you fled the scene with a hankering for a soda and heavily seasoned fries only your boyfriend could provide.
#the bear#the bear x reader#carmy berzatto#carmy#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmy x you#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#tvshow#fanfiction#x reader#fluff#reader loves French fries#and her sweet smelling bf#Richie#richie jerimovich
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it hurts
#every time I watch these moments my heart seizes and drops and I feel so sad that I just wanna bawl#npmd#nerdy prudes must die#team starkid#starkid#hatchetfield#hatchetfield series#nerdy prudes must die spoilers#npmd spoilers#spoilers#richie#richie lipschitz#jon matteson#max jagerman#will branner
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I saw your post about Mikey so I hope this is okay & what you were looking for. Mikey meets a girl that is like sunshine whenever she walks in the room & makes him finally feel worthy/valued so he’ll do anything to make her feel special in return
Sunshine (Mikey Berzatto x Reader)
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of weed and alcohol.
Word Count: 4.2k
I found a good boy and he's on my side You're just my eternal sunshine, sunshine
“John, John- you listenin’ to me?!” Mikey was pacing his office, trampling over receipts and month-old sticky notes while aggressively combing his hands through his tussled black hair. “I’ll have your money. When have I not paid you, goombah? I didn’t see the invoice, you should see this fuckin’ office, not enough time to organize this damn shit show” he responded, kicking a stack of papers in the process.
Bending down, he began rummaging through the various papers littering the office floor, attempting to compile them into categories. “John! You there?! Fuck.” Mikey frantically pat himself down, a sudden yearn for nicotine overcoming him. Finding his carton of Marlboros, he slipped the end of a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.
Letting out a sigh, John grunted, “Yeah, I’m here, Mikey. I’ll give you a couple more d-” before being interrupted by the vibrations of Mikey’s phone.
“Fuck me, that jagoff is calling” Mikey thought out loud. “Listen, John, I hear you, you’ll have your money, mmkay? On my ma, I swear to ya, I gotta go though there’s another ball-buster on the other line. K? Ciao.” Before John could respond, Mikey stood up to accept the other call.
“Mark, brother, hey, before you start… I know, I know.” He picked up his phone, taking it off speaker to slip it under his ear. “I— Listen, I know. I hear you. I- Hey, you gon’ let me speak, or wha’?!” Speaking with his hands he continued to pace around the room, his booming voice stifled by the cigarette.
The lunch rush at The Beef was dying down, exposing you to increasingly longer bits of the chaotic conversation occurring in the office. This was Mikey’s typical presentation; disheveled, malnourished, and overexaggerately buzzed off of caffeine, nicotine, and italian-ness. Although he was impossible to reason with in this state, you took it upon yourself to fix him up his favourite; a mortadella sandwich with sundried tomatoes, pesto, and mozzarella.
“You think I don’t know that? Pft, c’mon! Mark, man, you’re killin’ me!” You stood in the doorway, observing Mikey as he stood with one hand on his hip, the other flailing around to exemplify his frustrations. In one of your hands was the plate holding the lunch you made; in the other was a Chicago Bears BIC lighter.
Subtly knocking on the already open office door, Mikey whipped around to face you, his inconvenienced facial expression seamlessly evaporating into his wide-tooth grin. Mouthing ‘meet me outside’ was all it took for him to fake an excuse off of the phone and trail in your footsteps.
Albeit cheesy, you had that captivating effect on him, your hidden-well insecurities and past failed relationships blinding you to the fact that Mikey was infatuated with you. That, in combination with the 15-year age gap between you two. For Mikey, none of those factors changed the fact that you were his daylight, sunshine in human form.
Outside in the back you sat on a milk crate, the pre-Spring Chicagoan air fluttering over your skin. Moments after, Mikey joined you by sitting on an adjacent crate close to you after propping open the door. “Thanks, Bella” he said as he leaned over, his palm squeezing your thigh in an attempt to physically communicate the appreciation he held for your act of service.
You offered out the plate to him, prompting him to begin devouring. He gruffly moaned after taking his first bite. “Mhhhh, shit, this is like Marry Me chicken but in sandwich form.” You giggled in response with your hands resting in your lap, watching as he attacked it hungrily. Mid-bite, he motioned with his head towards the other sandwich on the plate, “Ain’t gonna eat itself, Italiana.”
“I’m not hungry right now, Mike,” you responded, suddenly losing your appetite as you thought of the most effective way to check in on him without him brushing it off. Mikey had a fortified ‘I’ll deal with it maself’ attitude; his hard-headed, traditional Italian, ‘Godfather’ persona caused him to keep you far away from the messes he had gotten himself into. In his eyes, you are more than capable of dealing with life’s bullshit, but his innate urge to protect you from harm’s way and unnecessary stress made it difficult to involve you.
“What was going on in there?” you motioned towards inside with your head. “Ah, nothin’ doll.” He shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to brush off the topic, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Just some bills that need payin’, I got it covered. Business good today? Any jagoffs give you trouble?” He frantically read your face, urgently hoping you’d buy his not-so-discreet attempt at changing the topic.
“C’mon, Mike. Cut the shit. You’re suffocating in that office.” The only person whose bluntness Mikey could listen to happened to also be the only person he’d accept ‘Mike’ from. He took the cigarette that had been hanging from his lips in his office out of his shirt pocket and proceeded to light it. Taking the first drag of it, he flicked it, holding it out to you.
Pursing his lips to blow out his puff, he responded confidently. “I got it all figured out, sunshine. Plus, I got cousin helpin’ me with the books and shit. Just gotta pay back those muthafuckas who keep callin’ me. They’re all, ‘where’s my money!?’” he playfully rolled his eyes, making hand gestures and displaying a funny face as he imitated the callers. You both knew damn well they had every right to be calling him.
“You telling me that Richie is on the books is supposed to bring me a sense of comfort?” Asking him that question with pure seriousness and handing him back the cigarette, Mikey stifled a laugh. “Hey, him and the IRS are like this” he crossed his middle finger over his index while winking and making a clicking noise with his tongue.
“Cousin, where the fuck are the receipt rolls, the office looks like an abandoned and pissed-in office depot” Richie’s exclaiming became increasingly louder the closer he got. “Feels like we change the damn paper in that thing ever- oh shit, pardon my interruption to your rendezvous. Were you guys about to fuck? I can leave” Richie pointed with his thumb towards the kitchen as he sported a fake-worried and devious expression, slowly inching backwards.
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “No one’s fucking anyone, Rich.” Mikey looked to the ground as he faked a chuckle, ignoring the slight pang of hurt in his chest.
“You want a mortadella sandwhich?” You held out the plate to Richie, knowing he couldn’t resist. “Uh, DUH,” Richie grabbed an additional crate to join the two of you, immediately beginning to eat.
“Oh fuck, are you fucking serious right now?! Mikey, if you don’t marry this girl I’ll do it for you. ‘S like a mouf orgathm” Richie had just begun eating yet he already had food on the corners of his mouth. You chuckled, choosing to ignore the marriage comment. “Here, you child. You’re such a slob” you threw him a napkin you had stored in your apron.
“Hey, the real slob is right over there” he pointed directly at Mikey, not even bothering to wipe his mouth but proceeding to take a another massive bite. “Something’s gotta be done about that cesspool of an office,” Richie shook his head disapprovingly, despite also functioning well in chaotic enrivonments. Mikey took yet another drag, the stress of you and Richie’s indirect demand to get his shit together getting to him. “It’s organized chaos, I know where everything is, s’all that matters.”
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This was the third night in a row that you had difficulty falling asleep. You had tried everything in your arsenal of melatonin-producing activities, and yet, your brain was spiraling, most of your thoughts pertaining to Mikey.
You weren’t going to kid yourself. You needed something and you knew exactly who to get it from. Picking up your phone, you made the call.
“Rich?? You awake?” You rolled over to your side, holding yourself up by your elbow and propping your head up with the palm of your hand. “Yeah I’m awake, but why the fuck are you awake, missus?” “I need a favour…”
Richie’s dirty mind figured any call from a woman at this hour was for sex, but he also knew about Mikey’s schoolboy yearn for you and wouldn’t dare make any advancements. The silence on his end was telling. “Not that type of favour, God, Rich! Stop being a man for a second. I need weed.” You huffed out, a whiny tone of desperation heavy in your voice.
“Now that I can help you with” he chuckled.
“YES thank you, Rich, oh my god” You sprung up out of bad as if there were hot rocks in it. “I will meet you at The Beef, okay?!” And that was where he met you.
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You and Richie sat at the back of The Beef, exactly where you had had lunch earlier that day. “You want to do the honours, stoner?” Richie held out the joint and lighter for you. You faked an annoying look and exaggerately took them from him. “I’m not a stoner, Rich. I just have an undiagnosed sleeping problem.” You put the joint between your lips and lit it, taking an ungodly large pull from it.
“Woahhhhh cheech and chong, relax” Richie practically yanked the joint from you. You immediately began coughing as you hadn’t smoked in a while. “What or who the fuck are you trying to forget, Italiana?” Richie’s joking tone didn’t conceal his concern as he took a puff himself. You looked at him, tilting your head to the side to signify confusion.
Richie took another pull before returning the joint to you. “If you’re calling me at 12am to smoke because you couldn’t sleep, it tells me your big brain was overthinking.” You took a moderate inhale this time, the buzz beginning to radiate out to your extremities. “What were you thinking about, Richie? Something tells me you were awake for similar reasons.”
“I’m not sayin’ anything ‘til you do” he responded whilst shrugging.
Making a sour face, you attempted to restore the saliva in your mouth. “I have cotton mouth like a bitch, I’m going to get something to drink. You want anything?” you asked, heading inside before he could interrogate you further. “Get me a brio!” You chuckled to yourself, shouting back “You know you’re not Italian, right?!”
You walked over to the walk-in fridge, grabbing Richie’s Brio and a Fresca for yourself. On the way back out, Mikey’s office door caught your attention, and you suddenly had an idea. “Rich. Oh my god. I know exactly what we can do.”
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“I… I think we just made things worse.” Looking up at Richie in horror, he mirrored your reaction. “Yeah, we fucked up cousin. We’re in some deep shit.”
You and Richie were both sat on the office floor, waist deep in the paper equivalent of a small forest. You took a swig from your Fresca, attempting to decipher where to start. “We can do this. For Mikey. He deserves this, and fuck, let’s face it, he was never gonna do it himself!” You attempted to motivate Richie, knowing his child-like attention span and patience were on their last legs.
Picking up various pieces of paper, you attempted to make sense of them. “Okay… I’ll make one pile for receipts, and I’ll sort them by date, and then-” You felt Richie’s eyes burning a hole into you, causing you to look at him and flail your hands around. “What?!” Impatiently waiting for his response, you began gnawing on the inside of your cheek, nervous that he was onto you.
“You like him.” Richie slowly grinned from ear to ear as he stated it matter o’factly. “You like like him.” You flung your head back and groaned. “‘Like like?’ C’mon, Rich, what are you, 12? Shut the fuck up and help me.” The blood rushed into your cheeks almost immediately at his accusation, the THC physiologically betraying you and making it impossible to put on a front. “You like him. Oh my god. I fuckin’ knew it,” he giggled.
“I don’t know whether it’s the weed or the fact that it’s 3am and I’m reaching the point of delirium, but since I’m not a pre-teen, I’ll admit that you’re not wrong. But it’s never going to happen. He’s mentally ill with a fucked up family and so am I- that doesn’t tend to be the ideal romantic combination. Now, lets finish this so we can still go home and get some rest before shift starts.” You looked at Richie with a stern look; he was shocked at your mini rampage, and internally, you were petrified about the fact that you had just spilt your guts to Mikey’s bestfriend.
“And don’t get any ideas, because this conversation does NOT repeat itself, you hear me, Jerimovich!” When you addressed someone in the kitchen by their last name, they knew you meant business. “Uh-huh, yup, yes ma’am.” Richie gulped, considering you just displayed more emotions in the last 5-minutes than you had for the entire length of time he has known you. It didn’t help that he was beyond stoned and couldn’t quite comprehend the nature of what you had told him.
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“Cousin! What the fuck is this? Why can I see the floor?” Mikey was standing at the doorway of his office in utter disbelief that morning. Richie jogged over peaking his head into the office. “It was Italiana’s doing, she just told me what to do. We were preeeetty fried” he chuckled to himself, recalling last night’s events. “Surprisingly, we didn’t throw anything out. She’s got a real knack for organizing, should’ve let her do this months ago. The IRS and I aren’t going to have anymore beef, see what I did.”
Richie couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. His nervous rambling was an attempt to not tell Mikey about your confession. Knowing how much Mikey admired you, it was killing him to not be able to tell his own bestfriend that the girl of his dreams reciprocated his feelings. Mikey slowly turned to look at Richie, hands still on his hips. “What the fuck did you smoke, crack? Why are you acting all fucked?”
You had walked into the kitchen at perfect timing before Richie blabbed your secret. Going to hang your purse up, Mikey called you over; he didn’t even need to see you to feel your presence. “Italiana, come ‘ere!” You sped walk over and stood in the entrance, your hands folded in front of you with a nervousness. A part of you was worried that messing with Mikey’s ‘organized chaos’ was going to disorient him, but you wanted to lessen the stress he was experiencing. That was what you did for the people you loved; especially the man you loved.
“You did this?” He looked directly at you; despite being an expert in Mikey’s nuances, you couldn’t tell whether he was pissed or overjoyed. “Uh, yeah! It’s all pretty self-explanatory but I can go through it with you if you want? I just thought it’d make your life a lil easier. And Richie’s! Of course.” You rubbed your arm with your hand as a means of self-soothing.
“This is great, Bella. Truly. I can’t believe you went through all this trouble, I mean, I don’t think I’ve seen it look like this ever” he motioned towards the filing cabinet and the paper baskets you had labelled appropriately, using his other hand to comb through his hair in shock. “I couldnt of done it without Richie. And Richie’s weed! It was nothing, Mike” you smiled at him and showed yourself out as nonchalantly as possible.
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You were waiting the last tables of the day - mainly consisting of left behind beer bottles and plastic sandwich baskets - when Mikey came up behind you putting one hand on your waist. “Meet me in the office when you’re done here, yeah?” As he whispered into your ear, you had to keep your knees from buckling. “Yeah, Mike! Okay!” Fucking Richie.
You attempted to stall for the inevitably painful conversation that awaited you, slowly walking towards the kitchen. While washing your hands, your brain began to spiral. Wiping your hands on your apron, you attempted to bravely walk towards the office, standing in the doorway.
“What’s up?” You halted in your tracks almost immediately as you noticed the charcuterie board Mikey was standing in front of and the bottle of red wine in his hands. “Fuck me. Okay, listen.” You walked closer to him. “Before you say anything, I don’t know what Richie said to you, but as someone who doesn’t know the difference between your and you’re, he has no idea what he’s talking about. You didn’t have to do any of this.”
Mikey looked at you like a deer in headlights. “What the fuck are you talking about,” he chuckled. There was that dimpled smile. And now you were confused (and distracted) before you realized Richie didn’t say anything.
“I wanted to thank you for organizing the office…” Mikey explained, twisting the bottle of wine open and pouring you a glass. “I know how much you like your charcuterie. If Starbucks ever stops selling those little boards I’ll wonder what you’re gonna eat.” He earned a laugh from you for joking about your mild salami addiction.
You sported the fakest wide tooth grin you could muster. “Hey, I’m Italian. I can’t help it. I think I’m keeping them in business though” you joked in response. He held out the glass for you and winked. “Thanks, Mike” you smiled, hoping he couldn’t pick up on your nervousness.
“Okay, let me show you what we’ve got here.” He clapped his hands together, excited to introduce you to his concoction of Italian meets and cheeses. Hunched over his desk with both of his hands planted on the surface to support him, he pointed at each meat and cheese as he went through the board’s contents.
“We’ve got cacciatore, prosciutto, mortadella, then I added parmesan - I know how much you like it - along with romano and gorgonzola. I was thinking we can add it to the menu. We’re no hipster yuppies but throw some olives and overpriced crackers on here and I mean, we’re talkin’ business, baby.” Looking up at you, he attempted to read your face for your thoughts.
Mikey was passionate. That was his entire nature. And when he presented you with ideas, he seemed to put your approval and opinion on a pedestal. You had helped significantly with business at The Beef, assisting in bringing Mikey’s visions to fruition while also providing your input where necessary; he valued your insight more than you realized.
Taking a baguette slice, you added cacciatore and parmesan onto it and bit in. “Fuck, Mike.” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you let out a near moan. “We gotta add this. It could even be part of a date night special. The charcuterie as an antipasto, a soup or salad, a main, and then dessert” you presented.
Mike glanced up at you with a smirk, content with your proposal. “Have I ever told you that I love your brain, Italiana?” You giggled as you continued to devour the board, attempting to ignore his blatantly obvious attempt at flirting as you couldn’t believe he could possibly be interested in you.
The rest of the evening was spent brainstorming business ideas, reminiscing on memories shared between you, Mikey, and Richie, and consuming copious amounts of wine.
“Oh my god, Mike. You remember when Richie tried picking up that blonde girl at the bar with a magic trick, and you- y- oh my god.” You flung your head back as you cackled; you were wine drunk and snortling to the point of incoherence. You were sat across from Mikey who was planted behind his desk, his ankle resting on top of his other knee. His forearms rested on the arms of his chair, and he loosely held a glass of whiskey as he watched you with amusement and a sly grin of admiration.
“You had to go over there and save him from the embarrassment. Poor thing.” You chuckled. “I’m pretty sure the chick he was tryna bag had started flirting with me,” Mikey said, taking a sip of his whiskey and raising his eyebrows as he attempted to recall the events of that evening.
You looked intently at him, not breaking eye contact. “Can you blame her?” The wine encouraged a new-found confidence to emerge from within you. There was no way you would’ve been this direct with Mikey while sober.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mikey leaned forward to put his glass on his desk then returned to his laid back position. With a dumbfounded look on your faced, you laughed then displayed a look of annoyance. “Don’t play stupid. Look at yourself, Mike.” You stood up, put the wine glass down, and rested both of your hands on his desk, leaning forward until you were mere inches away from his face.
Looking into his right eye, glancing down at his lips, and looking back up to his left eye, he began to shift in his seat. It was evident that you were both under a hazy and horny alcohol-induced influence, the sexual tension very obviously suffocating the room. “Now take me home before I say or do something I’ll regret.”
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As Mikey walked you back to your apartment, you held onto the side of his frame with all your might. He guided you through the streets of Chicago with ease; he was nowhere near the level of drunk that you had achieved. “You okay, darlin’?” He looked down, a slight smile on his face as he recognized your drunken effort to walk in a straight line. “Yeah, Mike. Thanks for tonight. No one’s ever gone through such an effort to appreciate me.”
You peered up at him with a smile; you wanted to put into perspective how much his actions meant to you, however, Mikey felt an even stronger urge to spoil you moving forward. Quite frankly, he was bewildered that his small gesture that evening exceeded all that you’ve known.
Arriving to the door of your apartment, you began rummaging through your purse for your keys. Finding them, you held your arm out straight and dangled them in front of Mikey. “You’re gonna need to unlock the door, mister. I do not currently possess the fine motor skills” you joked, earning a laugh from him.
You caught the glimmer in his eyes. Mikey felt like your fierce protector. You both knew you didn’t need protecting- while this was a part of you he admired, his masculinity often fought for dominance; for the chance to show you how well he could look after you and how much you deserved it.
He opened the door, propping it open for you as you stumbled through, immediately attempting to take off your shoes. You hadn’t thought this out thoroughly as you ended up toppling over, Mikey catching you in the process. “Easy, doll. Here, sit down,” he motioned toward the ottoman in the foyer of your apartment, guiding you as you lowered yourself.
He crouched down at your feet and placed the heel of your foot on his thigh, proceeding to untie your shoes. Grasping your ankle one at a time, he wiggled your feet out. You looked down at him, admiring his gentle touch, the concentration present in his furrowed brow; you loved to watch him, whatever he was doing, and you’ve known for a long time that you’ve loved him.
“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Holding out both of his hands for you, you stood up, letting him walk you through to your bedroom. You had a case of the over-tired drunken giggles, prompting you to laugh as you slurred your intentions to take off your make-up.
Mikey picked out some pjs for you, then proceeded to pour you a cold glass of water while you got changed. Opening the door to your bedroom, you motioned for him to come inside. “Sleep next to me?” You proposed with a curious tone despite knowing he’d decline as he (annoyingly) insisted on being a respectful gentleman at all times. “S’all good doll, I’ll be good on the couch” he motioned to the living room with his head. “Lemme tuck you in.”
As you got under the covers, Mikey offered you the glass of water to which you happily obliged. Handing it back to him, he placed it on your bedside table as you snuggled yourself into the sheets. He turned off the lamp, the room engulfing with darkness save for the midnight blue hue that the window cast in.
Mikey began to walk out of your room when you called out to him. “Hey Mike, c’mere” you turned over, watching him as he slowly approached. Motioning for him to come closer, you whispered into his ear. “I like like you.”
Knocking out after the words escaped your lips, as if they were made of melatonin, Mikey smiled to himself as he looked down at you. “And I love you, sunshine.”
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EEEEEEEEK my very first Mikey imagine! Which means I am still learning to integrate his personality into my writing- it’s hard when he has extremely minimal screentime. ALSO I am writing this in whatever year Mikey was operating The Beef, so Carmy, Syd, and the others aren’t there, and Richie and Tiff are still together. I am completely open to feedback and would also love to get more requests for Mikey. Let me know what y’all think!!! :)
#mikey#mikey berzatto#mikeyberzatto#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#richie jerimovich x reader#richie jerimovich#richie#jerimovich#michael berzatto#berzatto#sydney adamu#syd adamu#syd and carmy#sydcarmy#carmy x sydney#syd x carmy#syd x richie#richie the bear#the bear mikey berzatto#mikey berzatto the bear#sugar berzatto#natalie berzatto#the berzatto family#the berzattos#donna berzatto#chicago
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What criticism offers you, then, is an invitation to have your perspective challenged—or at least to grow by truly considering it. You might stick with a choice you’ve been criticized for or end up somewhere completely different. The endgame isn’t the point as much as the process: you grow when you engage with another perspective and decide to decide again. ― Will Guidara, Unreasonable Hospitality: The Remarkable Power of Giving People More Than They Expect
EBON MOSS-BACHRACH as RICHIE JERIMOVICH
THE BEAR, FORKS (S02E07)
#richie jerimovich#ebon moss bachrach#richie the bear#the bear#the bear season 2#the bear fx#the bear hulu#the bear s2#the bear spoilers#kinda???#ebon moss-bachrach#mygifs#richie#i'm so in love with his character growth
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Richie as Director Avatar and Taylor Swift
I was talking with @thoughtfulchaos773 earlier today and something occurred to me about Richie singing Love Story in Forks. There has been a lot of really wonderful meta lately touching on Richie's role in the show. There's @currymanganese's excellent point that Richie is Storer's avatar as well as all of @thoughtfulchaos773's posts about Filmmaking and Season 3/Richie as Director (Part 1 / Part 2).
Anyway, previously I hadn't thought much about Love Story being the Taylor Swift song that they had Richie sing. It's well known, it's a song that would make sense that his young daughter would gravitate towards and would have exposed him to. There's a purity and joy to it that fits with the earnestness he gains in his journey throughout the action of Forks. However, with the context of all of the other great meta out there, it occurred to me that if we think of Richie as Director and Observer of Carmy's Love Life (as thoughtfulchaos773 called him in Filmmaking Meta Part 1), the choice of Love Story as the song is a LOT more significant. Richie is telling viewers what the story of The Bear is...it's a love story. And it's a love story with Sydney as opposed to the horror/haunting story that's being laid out with Claire (here and here and probably others I'm not finding right now).
I've also been trying to make sense of the use of Long Live, which plays in the background of the conversation that Richie has with Frank in Violet. I was expecting to get another Taylor Swift song in Season 3, but all of the guesses I had made were more directly tied to Richie's plot and story (This is Me Trying was my main prediction). So I was very surprised that the song they picked was Long Live. But in considering Richie as Director Surrogate, this choice starts to make a lot of sense.
I don't think the choice of song is trying to say anything about Richie and Tiff's relationship, or Richie getting over her, or his maturity in handling the conversation with Frank. Long Live is a song that Taylor Swift wrote for her band, in celebration of her first headlining tour (for Fearless). In our chat, @thoughtfulchaos773 suggested that Long Live is a reference to Richie's looking back and reflecting at The Beef (and contrasting the experience of working at The Beef with the experience of working at The Bear) and hoping that sense of comradery and joy is able to be found at The Bear eventually -- and I think that makes a lot of sense.
I said remember this feeling I passed the pictures around Of all the years that we stood there on the sidelines Wishing for right now We are the kings and the queens You traded your baseball cap for a crown When they gave us our trophies And we held them up for our town And the cynics were outraged Screaming, "This is absurd" 'Cause for a moment, a band of thieves In ripped up jeans got to rule the world
There are a couple of other things that stand out to me in the song:
I was screaming, "Long live all the magic we made" And bring on all the pretenders, I'm not afraid
Magic and sleight-of-hand are themes that come up in Season 3, and it may be because I have Unreasonable Hospitality on the brain, but it is important to Richie, who lists the dream weave as one of his non-negotiables. Will Guidara writes in UH that for a while at Eleven Madison Park, they used a literal magic trick to reveal dessert to guests during one of their courses. And EMP also employed an entire team of Dreamweavers whose sole responsibility was to make hospitality personal and special for their guests (seen in Season 3 in the scene with the Surprise with the cake and Richie singing happy birthday in Spanish). I don't necessarily think they picked the song to make this reference but there is a through line there, even if unintended -- and I do think that, dropped fork notwithstanding, Richie's journey towards Unreasonable Hospitality genuinely has become his purpose.
The second thing that stands out to me, which might well be more of an intentional reference, comes from the last verse (which plays as Richie asks Frank about how he got his house):
Will you take a moment? Promise me this That you'll stand by me forever But if, God forbid, fate should step in And force us into a goodbye If you have children someday When they point to the pictures Please tell them my name Tell them how the crowds went wild Tell them how I hope they shine
I am reminded of this very excellent meta of @currymanganese's which posits the name of the restaurant Fairest Creatures alludes to one of Shakespeare's procreation sonnets. I think this verse alludes to (or directs our attention towards):
Season 3's theme of legacy
The hope of reconciliation between Richie and Carmy
An allusion to Carmy's future children and sharing the legacy of The Beef/The Bear with them
#sydcarmy#the bear season 3#richie#richie as director surrogate#music in the bear#the bear music#taylor swift in the bear#richie is a swiftie#this may just be my ND brain making all sorts of weird connections#which happens#cue me trying to puzzle out what TS song will come in season 4 at Richie's behest
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THE BEAR // Season 3; Episode 3: “Doors”
#the bear fx#the bear gifs#thebeartv#jeremy allen white#sydney adamu#ayo edebiri#carmy berzatto#marcus brooks#lionel boyce#richie#ebon moss bachrach#the bear season 3#tvgifs#tvedit#tv shows#bitchsleep gifs
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THE BEAR 1.02 Hands
#the bear#thebearedit#the bear fx#sydney adamu#richie jerimovich#tvedit#televisiongifs#cinematv#filmtvdaily#tvarchive#userallisyn#tusercora#nessa007#usergal#userreh#userquel#richie#sydney#*#s1
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the bee, the the bird, the bear -- uncle!carmy x babysitter!you
as always, warnings: major character death, past child neglect and abuse situations, swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, and eventual smut
one
“mallory... what’s your favorite color?” you asked the young girl next to you, lightly gripping her hand.
“pink,” the young girl said, keeping her eyes straight ahead at the aisle before her.
you stared down at her and fought back the urge to sigh. you tried not to hold it against her, but mallory berzatto was a tough cookie to crack. in the few days she had been around, barely anyone reported on her asking for anything she needed or wanted. you knew it wasn't going to be easy, but it was growing difficult to continue to remind yourself of that. you didn’t have any experience in how to console a child as they’re experiencing grief, and you weren’t exactly sure how to do that in a target.
“i love pink,” you stated. “maybe when you get older, i’ll show you my favorite pink makeup.”
the girl only nodded. you glanced back down at her… almost wishing you hadn't. you didn't know if it was because it was the sight you were most worried for, but looking down at that girl made your heart hurt. all you saw in her eyes was vacant space. dark, blank, vacant space. it was like ghosts casted a haze over her brown irises… and you had no idea what to do. toxic positivity? offer to get her ice cream? you knew you shouldn't push as you couldn’t exactly blame her.
so you brought out the big guns.
“so, mallory…” you began. “do you like... starbucks?”
mallory’s head immediately turned on a swivel up towards your face, where you stood a foot or two above her. a small twinkle appeared in her eye, and you knew you couldn’t let it pass.
“have you heard of…” you began, wiggling your eyebrows. “a pink drink?”
——————
a little while after you had gotten home from target, mallory said she was feeling sleepy. she left you to go fall asleep on the couch in the living room. your next task was to do up her new room.
carmy had made sure to deliver a bed for his niece before you arrived. a quick vacuum and washing of the walls had been done before you were hired. you sighed, satisfied, before pulling out your phone.
you: i hope you don’t mind… but i bought pink wallpaper.
carmy: she like pink?
you: her favorite color
carmy: that’s fine then.
that was all you needed before you set right to work.
it took much longer than expected to perfectly set up the light pink wallpaper — but once it was finished, you immediately started on your other tasks. you found white bed sheets and a comforter with pastel floral designs that complimented the color of the walls. it was soft and airy and you hoped it would make the young girl feel better in her new home. it would be some time before carmen would be able to get furniture, so you bought a few of those cubicles with cute cloth drawers. they were trendy at the moment, but above all else: they were sturdy, cheap, and easy to put together.
you started folding the young girl’s clothes; tops, pants, dresses, skirts — the works. you weren’t sure of the girl’s situation before her mother had passed away… but the girl did not have many belongings after her mother passed. you were tasked with restocking the girl’s bedroom, including wardrobe, and that you did.
….while adding one princess costume. she said she liked tianna. so you bought it as a surprise.
he could take it out of your pay — if he really gave that much of a shit.
you had stacked a few books that you had grabbed from your younger years that your family had been saving — the books deserved more than just collecting dust. they deserved to be used by a young girl like mallory.
you grabbed what else you could, too — extra sheets, extra clothes, and a winter jacket on the smaller side that your mother had vacuumed sealed many years ago. winter wasn’t for another few months, but you didn’t want to see her without any of the things she needed.
it was growing late, but not close to the time that carmy usually came back to the apartment. mallory had slept through dinner — so for when she woke up, you made sure to prepare her one of your favorites from when you were a little girl: pastina. sure, it was good — but it was also quick, cheap, and easy to make.
you spied the little girl’s awakening state from peaking around the kitchen threshold.
“hungry?” you asked, trying to appear cheery.
“not really,” she whispered.
you clenched your teeth, not really knowing what to do. you didn’t want to force her… but she barely ate anything at breakfast, and hadn’t eaten anything at lunch. “what if… you tried to eat as much as you could, and then i could show you your new room?”
she tilted her head in curiosity. “my… room?”
you nodded, smiling.
“i shared one with my mommy before.”
you swallowed hard. you didn’t know what to say — so you pretended she didn’t say it. shitty, sure, but what else could you do? instead, you responded, “i hope you like the color of your room.”
her eyes widened as her mouth fell open. “what color!?”
you grinned, stirring the pot. “i’ll tell you after dinner! you think you want to try?”
she hesitated for a second, appearing yo consider her options. you raised your eyebrows at her, hoping to influence her in the right direction.
“okay,” she stated. “it better be pink!”
——————
carmen came home a few hours later. you were on the couch, flipping through one of your textbooks, when you heard the lock click and a man’s voice sigh and enter the apartment.
“hey,” he called, setting bags down on the counter.
“hey,” you responded. “i made mallory some pastina earlier — i made extra in case you wanted some.”
“thanks,” he responded, heading into the kitchen. “how was she today?”
“she was good.” you smiled. “seemed a little sad… but i think her new room made her feel better.”
“you already put it together?” he asked. carmen was spooning the leftover pastina you had made into a bowl for himself. the thought made you smile — an award winning chef eating your, in comparison, lame food.
you nodded. “yeah, shit, sorry — should’ve asked you before. i just figured because you were busy — that it would, um... it would help you out.”
he nodded, averting his eyes to the ground. he placed his hands on his hips as he considered your words. “no, yeah, yeah — you’re right.”
you shrugged, stuffing your books in your bag. “at least now you have time to do — other things with here. bonding, and stuff.”
he laughed slightly at that. “that… is proving to be difficult.”
you nodded. “movies are a good start. disney plus.”
he threw up a few lazy pointer fingers, quite literally pointing out that you had a good idea. “yeah, yeah, right… actually… would you mind setting that account up tomorrow for me? i’ll leave you the credit card.”
you nodded, and laughed a bit. “that’ll make her really happy. can i… be intrusive, for a second?”
he didn’t even get it a second thought as he shoveled food into his mouth. “shoot.”
“i know that you’ve got a lot on your plate,” you began, swallowing. “did you have a chance yet to… look into doctors, or dentists for her?”
his jaw tightened. “the social worker left a brochure, but, um — no, i haven’t.”
you nodded. “if you want… i could call around tomorrow. i know you’re busy.”
“fuck,” he groaned, his eyes averting aimlessly towards the countertop. his tongue poked out through his lips, and slid over the cracked skin as he appeared to be consumed by his worries. “i have to put her on my insurance.”
you swallowed again. “…leave me that number, too?… or, if that’s too invasive, uh—“
“no,” he interrupted, staring at you. he shook his head thoughtfully, as if to silently dismiss you worry. “that would actually be… really helpful. thank you.”
you shook off the praise, not wanting a blush to rise to your cheeks. “she’s super sweet. i just — want to help her is all. can i ask… what happened, to her mom?”
“drug overdose,” he answered plainly, nodding almost.
your eyebrows rose as your mouth fell slightly agape. that poor, fucking girl. you fidgeted with your fingers before you spoke once more. “she said that… she used to share a bedroom with her mom today. it’s not my business, but — i figured — you should know —“
“her mom stayed at the places she would score from,” he responded.
your jaw dropped. you couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out: “that poor baby girl.”
he nodded then, placing his hands on his hips. you hadn’t known him for long, but it seemed like he did that when he was uncomfortable and/or didn’t know what to do. you figured he was also probably tired, and wanted to eat in peace, so you began packing your things to head out.
“hey, uh... carm?” you called, almost at the door.
“yeah?” he answered from the kitchen, as he unloaded the dishwasher.
“she’s lucky to have you.” you smiled at him as he was completely frozen in place, staring back at you. you closed the door behind you and left for home.
carmen didn’t know what to do with your words. he hasn’t really considered that, frankly, the girl, his niece, was lucky to be out of the situation she was — even if the berzatto family was a bunch of fuck ups who didn’t know how to control their emotions. carmen didn’t like to keep thinking about it, though — it had been hard to think about his niece, because then he usually thought of mikey — and that was too painful.
building the bear was… almost like closure. closing a chapter, but being able to look back at it fondly. however, when he was first introduced to his niece, who was the spitting image of his late brother… all of those thoughts crept back into him then.
staring at the little girl, mallory, was like the bear had never happened. the beef was still in existence; a flaming pile of shit, kicking and screaming. order was gone through the window, as was carmy’s small shred of sanity he had worked so hard to build and hold onto.
but she had smiled up at him, the first day they met — and he almost bawled his eyes out like a baby. a pathetic, fucking baby.
much like he had learned from construction of the bear, feeling collected and confident — bare minimum feeling okay — took time. a lot of time, money, and effort — but also time, and carmy could do time. he was barely at thirty, and some days he felt like he had no time — but he would make time. for mikey’s daughter — his niece, mallory.
he walked into mallory’s room after he had finished unloading the dishwasher. mallory insisted on keeping the door open with a super bright night light as she slept — so he only felt kind of bad walking into her room as she slept. he peeked around and his eyes widened.
it was like he had hired barbie instead of the girl next door studying for a law degree. the wallpaper was set perfect, faux dressers — he really had to get real ones, but that could wait — were set up and filled with clothes, there were books, toys, and it was decorated very nicely.
you had spoiled mallory.
you had spoiled mallory where carmy couldn’t find the time.
you had said before you had left that mallory was lucky to have him… but all carmy could think about, staring at his niece, sleeping peacefully despite all she had been through, surrounded by items and colors that looked like it was out of a magazine, was how lucky he was to have you to come into his life.
carmy was lucky to have you, and he would prove to his niece that he was lucky to have her around, too.
#carmy berzatto#carmy smut#carmy#carmen#carmen berzatto#carmy au#carmy fic#carmy fluff#sugar#richie#sydney#the bear
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Minx 2x05 | A Stately Pleasure Dome Decree
#tina is introvert representation#minx#minxedit#minx starz#minx hbo max#tina lewis#bambi#richie#tvedit#userstream#chewieblog#dailywomen#perioddramaedit#perioddramasource#weloveperioddrama#idara victor#jessica lowe#aflawedfashiongif#affminx#minx: season 2#minx: 2x05
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from dusk till dawn ↳ 3.06: "Straitjacket"
#richie#zane holtz#from dusk till dawn#3.06#s3#tv series#fdtd#dailyfdtd#fdtdgifs#gif#my gifs#fdtdedit#my edit#usermarusya
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katie's christmas gifts: spencer and tommy & hills like white elephants by ernest hemmingway for @ancientvamp
RICHIE!! your fic, just to talk, altered my brain chemistry, so much so that i went and read the original short story and.... yeah it was everything to me. so i made you a lil smth smth - lines that especially reminded me of them <3 (especially the last one bc your fic gave me brain worms ya know.) anyway you have been such a wonderful mutual this year, always in my replies hypin me tf up, and i love you for it so i thought i would make this as a small token of my gratitude and to wish you a very happy holidays <33333
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