#shiv menu

[goodboi650]

i did not expect it to go like this

Reblog and put as long of a list of words as you can where none of them have the same last letter (eg camerA, taB, statistiC,…) in the tags

[princesssmars]

siobhan roy gets what she wants, and sooner or later its gonna drive her husband insane. 18+. fem!reader. fxfxm threesome. toms pov.

when she first brings up the idea, tom awkwardly laughs and goes back to his dinner. its some fusion chicken dish at this insanely expensive place in manhattan, no prices on the menus. he asks her to repeat herself and she gives the same response.

a threesome. sex between him, her and another woman. but notnjust some random waitress or escort from some top of the line site like willa. she suggests you. her best friend of the past eighteen years.

the number eighteen just reminds of his shiv's insistence on not having a baby for at least ten years. he picks at his food until she lightly pushes his shoulder to look at her.

she's busy explaining the terms of their agreement and how this is beneficial to the both of them while he just watches. her eyes are squinting like they do when she smiles, and he thinks about the last time she had a real smile while talking to him.

he bites the inside of his cheek and agrees.

tom thought you were hot. and it was a bit scary. he'd heard some social media startup at a banquet remark how it was a shame your family has prioritized the humanities and technology for five generations, because if there was any pick of them to woo the world with a face and body it'd be you.

he never had any doubts about how much he cared for shiv. she was shiv fucking roy, he couldnt believe she was talking to him in that nightclub in ithaca. but he'd be a liar if he said he didn't let his eyes wander the first time he met you.

but he'd also be a liar if he said he'd never questioned just how close you and shiv were. his first introduction to a family and friends golf trip, and he studied how she corrected your stance from behind you, pressing her body into yours. but girls could be..touchy with each other. that was normal. what wasn't normal was roman teasing shiv for 'taking any chance to remind me you got to have a lesbo relationship with the girl everyone wanted in boarding school.' she gives a 'fuck you' and a punch to his arm before sitting next to tom, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

after that, he notices all of the little hand grabs under tables, the shared smiles when one of either of your siblings embarrasses themselves, and the late nights where shiv stays out with you to "go over some business". but he stays quiet. you're just best friends. and he knows the roys' have...odd relationships with the people around them. he's glad shiv has you to rely on when he's not around.

now he's standing over the bed, their bed, as the two of you giggle while shiv tugs your dress over your head, moving to yank your underwear down with quickness. he isn't sure where he's supposed to be or what he's supposed to be doing. a mixture of arousal and uneasiness grows in the pit of his stomach.

he feels like a creep just watching so he settles beside the two of you on the bed, feeling like he's made a wrong move once the both of you stop and your eyes settle on him.

"aw babe, i forgot you were here for a second. don't be shy. she won't bite." shiv consoles him, although the first part of her sentence does anything but. her cut hair rests softly on her shoulders, the black lace of her bra looking so nice against the paleness of her skin. he gives a gentle nod and turns his body towards you.

"yeah, tom. won't bite unless you ask me to." your hand grasps his wrist and brings it to your chest, his palm spreading out over your nipple and squeezing until you let out a hum. he eases into it, jumping a bit when a loud moan leaves your throat and your head goes back.

he looks down and shiv is between your legs, her eyes closed in content as she buries her mouth into you. she doesn't tease you like she does with him, hands bringing your legs to rest over her shoulders and digging into your thighs. he can only watch as your hand moves downward, ready to tell you that shiv hates having her hair pulled, when you get a grip in the red locks and pull, the woman groaning from between your legs.

he knew it all along, but this, all of this, cements it. you've done this before. shiv, the love of his life, his wife, has slept with her best friend, the maid of honor at their fucking wedding, and never told him. he makes eye contact with you, and you give him a smile as you grip his head and bring him into sloppy kiss.

throughout the night he can picture all of it from shiv's point of view. sticking her tongue in your mouth and tasting your lip balm. biting into the skin of your neck to hear your cries. licking over your clit until you cum into her mouth. doing all of it and more to her in return.

he leaves autopilot when he's on the bottom, mouth agape as you sink onto him and take a breather as shiv sits on his face. he's back inside his mind, fucking shiv's cunt with his mouth until his jaw aches and his veins cry out from gripping her thighs.

she normally chastises him for it, hating when he leaves marks. but right now she's preoccupied in you, and if just the sounds of you two kissing is sending him into a frenzy he can only imagine what it looks like. you're laughing, and she's laughing, and his ears strain to hear what the two of you are whispering about over the sounds of sex.

"god, you look so fucking hot-"

"'m so glad you finally did this, god, shit, got so tired of waiting-"

"i know, aw, i know baby. just a little longer, baby."

"im close, fuck tom, shiv!"

"god i fucking love you-"

tom's hips buck up as his high hits him like a freigh train, cumming inside of the condom he had fit on beforehand. you both tumble off of him, and once he gets his bearings he slowly stands and throws the condom into the trash. as he's walking into the en-suite bathroom shiv calls out that you're staying the night, her hand rubbing up and down your leg as youlay out on their bed.

can you tell which one of them i like more. its shiv i want to fuck shiv.

he smiles and closes the door.

[paigegonerogue]

TLOU s2: Behind the Camera

One of the most anticipated shows of 2025, The Last of Us (my favorite show of all time), is likely getting an official teaser trailer this month for the absolutely stacked season 2! If you’ve been keeping up with the news around it, you’ll know the incredible new actors added like Kaitlyn Dever, Isabella Merced, Jeffrey Wright, Katherine O’Hara, and Young Mazino, but they’re not the only rockstars stepping onto the set.

(Super long post)

Directors:

Aside from the amazing returning directors, TLOU has added four prestige legends to the lineup. Thank you for your service, Ali Abassi, if you’re past work directing stories about blonde sex-offenders is any indication, your Trump biopic will be fantastic.

The four directors added to the lineup are Stephen Williams, Kate Herron, Nina Lopez-Corrado, and the legend himself, Mark Mylod.

Stephen Williams, the director who’s known for constantly directing episodes with an 8.7 score on IMDB (that’s not what he’s actually known for). He’s directed episodes of Westworld (one in s1 and one in s2, both with an 8.7 score) and Lost (in which he has two more 8.7s, and I believe over 10 other episodes in the range of .2 points of 8.7), so he’s pretty good with time-skips and flashbacks. He’s also worked on Persons of Interest in which he directed another, you guessed it, 8.7 episode, as well as two more win the .2 range of it. Recently he’s broken out of the “almost nine” range with HBO’s Watchmen, in which he directed episodes 3 and 6. (He’s directed 9s before, but this was the first time where they weren’t surrounded by 8.7s). His work with time shenanigans, and the fact that TLOU is rated 8.7 on IMDB, make this a fantastic match.

Kate Herron is next up, known best for her work on Loki. She directed the entirety of season 1, which includes my favorite episode of the show ‘The Variant’, in which Loki and Mobius go to the location of a disaster in the near future to find a sinister variant. It’s practically a demo real for TLOU, since a lot of it takes place in a supermarket filled with people waiting out a disaster that none of them survive, showing she’s got the skill to pull of apocalyptic. She also delivered us the absolute gold of the salad scene. Other than that, she directed multiple episodes of Sex Education back when it was still beloved and acclaimed.

Third we have Nina Lopez-Corrado. While she hasn’t directed shows quite as high-caliber as some of the other directors, she’s proven she’s good at found family through her work on Agents of Shield, in which she delivered one of the highest rated, and roughest episodes of the show ‘Devil Complex’, in which our favorite characters get put through absolute hell (so she’ll be perfect for TLOU s2!). She’s also shown that she can get Tumblr obsessed with queer ships with her work on Supernatural…

Last and certainly not least is the most well known and acclaimed of the new directors, Mark Mylod. I believe he will be directing the most episodes of this list, but I’m not entirely certain. Mylod is probably best known for his amazing work on Succession, which he won an Emmy for. He’s directed all of my favorite episodes except Panic Room and America Decides. While he’s worked on other projects like Game of Thrones, Entourage, and The Menu, it’s his directing for Succession that gets me most excited for his work on TLOU. He’s proven he can elevate emotional scenes, and his directing is consistently incredible across all spectrums of human feeling. His thematic work with grief, trauma, and the cycle of violence will very much carry over into TLOU, and I can’t wait to see the absolute emotional brutality and heartbreak of his direction paired with Bella’s acting. Actually I can wait because holy shit I’m not going to make it… He directed Kendall’s traumatizing car crash in the s1 finale, Shiv’s self-destructive decisions in Ternhaven, Kendall’s breakdown in s3 when he admits to Roman and Shiv what he did, Roman’s grief and self-harming behaviors at the funeral, the bittersweet bonding in the finale of the show, and obviously Connor’s Wedding. If you’ve seen Succession or know the plot of TLOU part 2 you’ll know exactly how that might carry over…

You thought this was the end? Hell no! Directors aren’t the only ones behind the camera!

Writers:

Craig Mazin and Neil Druckmann wrote season one. Their brilliant writing elevated the show and led to some truly unforgettable moments, and this season they’ve brought in some more incredible writers to help!

Halley Gross co-wrote The Last of Us part 2 alongside Neil Druckmann. No one was particularly surprised by this news, but it’s still great nonetheless. It’s clear how much Mazin respects the source material, and I love how TLOU brings in the people who wrote the games to help adapt it for television. She also wrote episodes for Westworld s1.

The other writer is more unexpected. Bo Shim joined the writers room of TLOU s2, but we don’t know much about him. He currently has no official writing credits, which either means it’s a pseudonym (which I doubt), or, more likely, they found a young, talented writer who hasn’t made it big yet and decided to give him his big break and use his skills for TLOU. If you’re looking, Craig, I know a film student who’d love to join the writing room for TLOU…. She’ll do it for free… she’ll pay you… please??

Cinematographers:

Cinematographers work with directors to create the look of the show, the shots, the lighting, etc.

Ksenia Sereda, who did the cinematography for TLOU episodes 1, 2, and 7 will be returning along newcomer Catherine Goldschmidt who worked on the always-gorgeous House of the Dragon.

Some of her amazing HotD shots:

Finally, Emily Mendez and Timothy A. Good are returning as editors. Set designers Austin Chuqiao Wang, Kyle White, and Shannon McArthur are returning as well.

There are wild amounts of other crew members who work on everything from lighting to costumes to vfx to storyboards. If I mentioned all of them this post would be as long as the credits, but every single one of them is important to the show and helps make it as incredible as it is!

I can’t wait for season 2!

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Turmoil; Chapter 4

Roman Roy x Reader

a/n: I’m back on that grind guys. enjoy x

Word Count: 2.744k

“You’re fucking lucky Y/N was there,” Kendall says, struggling not to raise his voice. “You’re so fucking lucky your vote didn’t tip the scale.”

You’re back in Kendall’s office, you and him perched on his sofa while Roman is stood, leaning against the wall.

“I… I just couldn’t,” he says meekly.

“Then why’d we agree to a vote of no confidence?” you ask. “Roman, I get if your feelings are complicated about this, but you almost fucked us over.“

“Why am I doing this again?” he asks, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Kendall scoffs. “You need to think about what you want. Dad’s a horrible person doing horrible things. You can go run to him, but I’m staying here.”

“We go to Norway tomorrow. How about we just have a good time?” Roman suggests. “There’s nothing we- or he, for the matter, can do while we’re abroad. I need… I just need a break.” You roll your eyes and get to your feet.

“Whatever, Roman. I’ll see you at home.” You give Kendall an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder before going out and finding Greg in the bullpen.

“Oh, hello, Y/N.” He finishes whatever it is he was doing and turns in his chair to face you. “I could hear the… commotion from all the way over here. And I saw the police, and, uh, Kendall’s still alive, so…?”

“Yeah. It worked, surprisingly. They had to escort Logan out the conference room.” You drag a hand over your eyes. “Instead of dinner, want to go out for lunch? I like you, Greg, but my brain’s going to be fried by the time the work day’s over, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

He smooths his dress pants at the knee before getting up. “Yeah, no, yeah, that’d be great.” He glances over your shoulder. “Uh, is he okay?”

You follow his gaze, peering into Kendall’s office to find Roman facing you both, watching intently with his hands folded behind his back. “Don’t mind him. He’s neurotic.” You touch your thumb to the cool gold of the ring sitting on your finger.

“Well, then, after you.” You walk across the street to a quaint brunch spot that’s hailed for it’s food. “I love this place,” Greg tells you. The conversation pivots, however, when you both are seated. “Shiv told me you need some, what should I say… favors?”

“We do, and I’m sorry it’s all been dumped on you.”

“No, it’s okay. It makes me feel important.”

You laugh. “What do you have in mind? Shiv tell you anything?”

“I’ve been thinking- and it’s completely valid if my voice isn’t relevant to you, but I’d like to share my thoughts -that instead of whaling so hard on Logan directly, why not try to get access to him through Marcia? Or any past… connection?”

“Do you think we’ll be able to find anything?”

”I heard, through the grapevine, of course, a few rumors about Marcia and a… new friend.”

“If you find anything,” you say carefully, “I think you know what to do.”

“I also have heard a lot of complaining from people who work directly under him. Or, used to, I guess.”

“I think the general consensus is that he’s a criminal piece of shit. We just can’t find any proof.”

“I think I’ll be able to find something.” He tentatively picks up the menu laid out in front of him.

“Do you think you’ll make it out to Norway?”

“Me? I think Roman would shoot me.”

“You should come, after you deal with things here. Everyone could use a break.”

“I’ll try. I do really need to get out of here for a while.”

“If Roman’s giving you trouble, you can tell me, you know.”

“Oh, it isn’t anything new. I don’t know what it is with him. He has his own issues he doesn’t know how to deal with, so sometimes he projects.”

“That’s profound,” you say. “You’re right to not think anything of it. I know him well enough by now to say I don’t think he thinks before doing anything.”

You both order, and conversation comes easily to the two of you. Greg’s a wholesome guy, you think. He makes you comfortable, and you know you can trust him.

“I wanted to tell you something,” he says after a while. “I haven’t seen Connor in a bit. But last time I did see him, he was on the phone with some lawyer, talking about a lawsuit. And I’m almost 100% sure it wasn’t you, because I know your name isn’t Brad.”

You give your drink a slow stir. “Did you catch what the lawsuit was about?”

“All I heard were the words ‘negligence’ and ‘innkeepers law’.”

You press your lips together. None of this seems right. “Is it possible you can figure out the firm he was speaking with?”

“I’ll do my best. I figured you’d want to know.”

“I do. Thank you, Greg.”

Eventually, after a fight over bill(which you won), you hail a taxi and make your way back home. You kick your heels off by the door, Roman’s dress shoes haphazardly strewn in the same vicinity. You pad into the kitchen and toss your keys onto the counter, clocking Roman sat on the couch.

“Greg, huh?”

“What about him?” You pull a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Do you like him?”

“Yeah, I do. He’s respectful and I can trust him,” you say acridly.

“I respect you. A lot, actually.”

“You don’t show it. It’s not a competition, anyway. Why do you care?”

“We’re engaged.”

You roll your eyes at his childishness. It’s starting to get on your nerves. “We’re just friends, remember? Your words, not mine.” You leave the kitchen and wander into your room. You don’t think Roman’s ever slept in the bed- he’s been living on the couch. He gets up and follows you. “Even if I was into Greg- which I’m not -what’s your deal?”

“I lied to you. That morning.” You’re sitting at your desk now, and stare up at him.

“About?”

“What I remember.” He takes both your hands. “I remember everything I said. I meant it.”

You can feel your face begin to heat up. “Are you drunk?”

“Sober. I swear it.” He uses his finger to draw a cross over his heart, still gripping your hand in his.

“What’s your point here, Roman?”

“I want to try being something. I want us to try being something.”

“Are we just ignoring the fact that you threw us under the fucking bus?”

“Yes, we are. We’ll talk about that later, I promise.” He gets to his knees, resting his cheek on your thigh as he looks at you. “I want to do something right, for once. I want to do this right.”

You’re sat frozen in place. You force yourself to card a hand through his hair, pushing it from his face.

“You were on the news, once. Giving some legal advice before my father went on air for some propagandist bullshit. I thought you were so fucking hot. I mean, I still do-” He cuts himself off. “What I’m trying to say is, I like you, you’re fucking gorgeous, and while the situation we’re in is less than ideal, I want to make something out of it.” You stay silent. “You’re kind, funny, you’re brighter than the fucking sun. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, but I’m just some piece of garbage who keeps making things between us worse. Friends? I was lying, then, too. I’ll never be able to accept you as just a friend. I’ll never stop wanting you.”

“Really?” is all you can manage.

“Yes, really. And I know I’m an asshole. I’m proud of it, 90% of the time. That last 10% is when I’m with you and I feel so fucking guilty I made that precious smile of yours disappear. It eats me alive that I piss you off. That you don’t like me. But that’s all I’ve ever been capable of doing.”

“So change it. Make me like you,” you say quietly. Reluctantly, he pulls himself to his feet and instead hooks his arms under you, hoisting you up. He takes your place in your desk chair, settling you on his lap.

“You deserve lots better than me, Y/N.” Roman keeps his arms wound around you, one tight around your waist, the other across your back, anchoring you to him. “I don’t know what I was doing this morning. I get so scared of him, Y/N. It’s like he was looking into my soul.”

“If you think I deserve better,” you begin, “become better.” You let yourself lean into his chest. “As for the vote, I still think you’re an asshole.”

He sighs. “And that’s fair. Kendall ripped me a new one after you left.”

“Good.” His hand wanders idly up and down your back, gently massaging knots of tension that he can find. “Roman Roy, realizing the consequences of his actions.” You drag a finger across his jaw. “Am I dreaming?”

”If we are, I don’t want to wake up.”

“So, what now?”

“We be all lovey-dovey. I mean, we’re already engaged.”

You snort. “You can’t stop saying that.”

“Who wouldn’t, when engaged to someone who looks like you?” He gives your ass a quick pinch.

“Roman!”

“Sorry. Had to,” he says, grinning stupidly. “Jokes aside though, I want to take it slow.”

“I… Yeah. Let’s take it slow.”

“You do want this, right?” he asks quietly.

“I’ve wanted you since the minute we made eye contact.” You stifle a smile. “You’re sexy when you have a stubble. What happened to it?”

“What, I’m not sexy now?” He absentmindedly draws a hand over his smooth jaw. “I’ll grow it back for you.”

“Hey, I’m just kidding. You’re sexy now, don’t worry.” Roman grunts and moves the two of you to bed.

“What? My back hurts.” He sinks into his side of the bed. “Please don’t make me sleep on the couch again.”

“You’re always welcome here.” You sigh happily and roll out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

“To brush my teeth and get ready for bed, unlike some slob I know. No outside clothes on my bed, Roman.”

You duck the pillow he chucks at you.

As you progress through your nightly routine, eventually, he comes to stand with you at the sink. You make a face at him before returning to your business. For a bit, he just watches you, happy to just be in your presence. When he starts brushing his teeth, he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you close.

You protest halfheartedly, and he rolls his eyes at you before spitting his toothpaste out. “Quit whining,” he tells you, giving your hip a squeeze.

“I’m building a wall between us tonight,” you threaten lightly.

“I was a rock climber as a kid.” He pokes you gently. “Now that you’ve let me into your cold, shriveled up heart, I’m not leaving.”

“You still have a lot of work to do, Roman,” you chide. “Just because you got onto your knees for the first time in your life doesn’t mean everything’s magically okay.”

You both pad back into your bedroom, crawling under the covers together. “I thought we could kiss and make up,” he says, propped up on his arm, facing you. You curl up on your side, also facing him.

“Absolutely not,” you tell him. “You’re going to sit here and explain yourself. Or you’re sleeping on the floor.”

He sighs, pulling up the blankets so that you’re both covered. “It’s like I blacked out. I was so scared, Y/N.”

“Why? He can’t do anything to you, Roman, especially now that I’m involved in all this.”

“It’s complicated,” he mutters.

”We have time,” you urge gently.

“It’s the way I grew up, I guess.” He collapses onto his back. “He’d snap over the smallest things. My entire childhood I was walking on eggshells. I don’t… It’s such a bad excuse. God, I feel horrible.” He covers his face with his hands.

You crawl over, close enough to him where you’re able to set your cheek onto his chest and still lay comfortably. You’re still facing him, and one of his hands moves to sit on your hip. “I think I was too harsh on you,” you murmur. “Don’t get me wrong, it still was a dick move, but I get it. Just promise you’ll do better, okay?”

He peels his other hand off of his face to wind it through your hair. “I promise. I promise.” You press a kiss to his chest, to which he stiffens. “Don’t,” he says quietly. “Don’t.”

Hesitantly, you pull away from him, settling on your side of the bed and facing the other way. You fall asleep without saying anything else.

You wake up to an empty bed. You thought it was going so well, too. You drag yourself out of bed and find him in the kitchen. Wordlessly, he pushes you a mug of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs.

“I felt bad. But then I remembered I don’t know how to cook,” Roman says meekly. “I’m sorry. It’s getting too real for me.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I, uh, ‘ve never been in a serious relationship. Not with someone I like this much. I don’t… I don’t want to fuck this up, Y/N.”

You try wiping the bleariness from your face. “I don’t understand you, Rome.”

He reaches out, wiping a bit of coffee from your lip. “I hope you can learn to.”

“As long as you put in the effort, too.” You look up at him. “I don’t mean to pressure you into anything you don’t want. I just mean I want you to actually try.” You take a sip from your mug. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you haven’t exactly been… proactive the last week.”

He leans against the counter behind him. “Who’s the one who went out with another man?”

“Roman, that doesn’t have anything to do with anything.” You laugh as he jabs a hand into your side.

“I’m not going to let you forget it.”

“It’s Greg. Wholesome, kind, Greg.”

“You should’ve been out with me.”

“Take me out, then.”

He bridges the small distance between you and fits his hands into the curves of your waist. “I’ll be all over you in Norway, don’t worry.” He takes the heel of his palm and massages circles into the skin of your hip.

“We need to leave soon,” you tell him. You want to kiss him, but you know you can’t.

“I haven’t even packed,” he says lightly.

“Roman!”

“God, I’ll never get sick of hearing that.”

You drag him into the closet and roll his suitcase over to him. “Get to it.”

☾𖤓

At the airport, Roman carries all of your bags for you. He even demands to hold your purse, a cute short strapped Prada you’d treated yourself to the first big check you’d received. He holds it by the handle over his shoulder the same way one would hold a jacket. He looks silly with his sunglasses on and your purse sitting on his back. It’s endearing, and you smile softly at him.

In the car out to the private jet, you and Shiv make plans to go out shopping your first day in Norway. Willa sits cramped next to Connor, and you feel bad, so you and Shiv invite her. Kendall’s practically snoring on Roman’s shoulder. The poor guy’s been working dusk till dawn this whole ordeal. He deserves the break.

You’re glad Logan won’t be taking the same plane as the six of you. You wouldn’t be able to handle it- the paranoia, his snide comments, and hell, even just his voice would set you off.

You and Shiv settle across from each other on the plane, her feet propped up in your lap. Roman’s slumped against you, asleep, and you think he’s drooling. Kendall sits across from him, also asleep, neck pillow and sleeping mask on like the sleeping beauty he is.

You sigh contentedly.

If you close your eyes, you can pretend like the threat that is Logan Roy isn’t dangling over your heads.

If you close your eyes, you can pretend like you’re just travelling with your chosen family.

If you close your eyes, you can pretend like you’re at peace.

[hughiecampbelle]

Succession Preference: Giving Them The Silent Treatment

Requested: hi hi! I've been loving succession, I think Tom and Kendall are my favorite characters <3 Could I request a preference for the siblings (+ Tom or Greg if you're comfortable, totally understand if you don't wanna add them) making it up to their S/O after an argument? Maybe their S/O has given them the silent treatment and they wanna fix things?? Or something like that, it's totally up to you <3 - @meltingsandwhich

A/N: Shai!!!! I love this idea!!!! Thank you for requesting!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Connor would want to rip his hair out. The thought of you being angry and hurt enough to give him the silent treatment kills him. Forgotten and ignored as a child, the silent treatment doesn't sit well with him. It reminds him too much of his father, ripping open old wounds. He gives you the space you need, but eventually it becomes too much. He has to talk to you and he needs you to talk to him, to acknowledge him. He apologizes profusely, desperately, the people pleaser in him coming to life. You're still upset, but you realize immediately what you've done. You did what Logan has been doing to him his entire life. You apologize, too, putting into words why you were so upset. Your relationship isn't perfect, especially after a fight, but you know you cannot do that to him again. You have to talk it out, you have to address things, you have to break the cycle. Connor is more than happy to do so, hating the long stretch of silence.

Kendall, I think, would be just as petty at first. When you stare at him, mouth closed, anger radiating out of you, he realizes what you're doing and tries to beat you at your own game. He can only last a few minutes before his own insecurities devour him. Why aren't you talking to him? Is it over? Did one fight murder your whole relationship? He can't listen to the quiet anymore, finding any way to fill it. He screams and yells and begs, but you're stubborn. One too many times he has broken his promise to you, he has broken your heart. As far as you're concerned he deserves to suffer. You want him to. Not forever, not forever, but in this moment? It's all you want. He kicks furniture and makes a mess, yelling, angry, hurt. You can't keep it in anymore and you stat yelling, crying, telling him all your pain. Everything he's put you through. He promises to do better, to be better, that this will never happen again. You're not sure if you believe him. You're not sure you'll ever believe him again.

Shiv sorta pretends nothing happened. She asks you if you want to order in for dinner after a few days of not speaking. You can't believe it. It makes you even angrier, causing you to give her the silent treatment. By not speaking, you're forcing her to address it. You just stare at her as she goes through the drawer of menus. What? Are you seriously still mad? This frustrates her, causing her to become defensive. You're being irrational. You're being insecure. Funny, you say, you're starting to sound like your father. That hits hard. The fights you have are volatile and downright cruel. Afterwards you have to nurse your wounds, you take a few days, before going to one another. There isn't necessarily an apology spoken from either of you, but it's as close as you're going to get. You go back to normal after that. You're sure one of your fights will be the downfall of your relationship one day, but that day isn't this one. You know Shiv doesn't mean it, and neither do you, it's just the kind of thing you were raised to do: go for the throat.

Roman feels incredibly anxious when you give him the silent treatment. He can't stand it. He tries to fill the silence with jokes, but it doesn't work. His one defense mechanism isn't working nor is it appropriate. When is it ever? You break him down with your blank stare. He feels jittery and nervous and nauseous. Finally, he asks you what's wrong. Is this about our fight? Fuckin- seriously? He can't believe you're still upset. Of course I am, you say. He senses your frustration and he braces for the worst, flinching when you step closer. You explain to him, yet again, that though you're upset, you would never dare hurt him. He kinda wishes you would, at least then it would be all over and you wouldn't have to talk about it. You don't care that it makes him uncomfortable, you don't care if he squirms the whole time, you are going to address what's wrong in your relationship. He's not sure where to start, relying on you. You make up by talking it out in a serious manner, so that he understands.

Bonus! Tom is a big gift giver after an argument. Though he didn't grow up with money, he's quickly learned that if you throw enough of it at a problem, it'll go away. He knows you typically get quiet after a fight so he lets you be. In the morning he'll have something expensive and thoughtless wrapped up in a bow. You've learned that there's typically a double meaning to what he gets you and it often leaves you more hurt than you already were. You don't want something that cost a lot of money, you don't want something wrapped in a bow, presented to you like it's a million fucking dollars, you want him to change. You want to stop having the same arguments over and over again because, though he promises you he'll be better, he never is. That's what you want. You know if you said this though, it would fly right over his head. He doesn't want to change. He likes himself just the way he is. That's what you can't stand, that's why you go silent.

Bonus! Greg is pretty much oblivious to your silent treatment. He thinks, after your fight, which is less of a fight and more like a tense conversation when it comes to Greg, that everything is cool. Everything is going to go back to normal. He comes home after work talking about how Rome punched him in the arm and he thinks he's getting somewhere with Mencken when you ignore him. Sore throat? Are you coming down with something? No Greg, you say, frustrated, you're still mad at him. Oh. He didn't think you would be. He thought you got all you needed out when you were talking to him. You have to explain that the conversation you were having was actually a fight, that he participated in it, and he said some pretty hurtful things. Oh. He apologizes, but there's always a "but" in there with an excuse. That's what you're talking about. He's learned from the best at Waystar how not to take accountability.

[empressofmankind]

The Show Must Go On - Pt. 1

Buggy x F!OC

Waitering at Baratie is not a bad life, but that doesn't mean life couldn't be better. That life didn't use to be better.

It's Wednesday evening, and that means entertainment is on the menu for the restaurant's late night diners. She enjoys doing so, truly, but her mood has been spiraling and she's not feeling it today. (Un)fortunately, she is not the only entertainer in the room. And the show must go on.

Tags: Fluffy like black cotton candy. Pre-amble to a whole lotta will-they-wont-they. No smut (yet) :(

Word count: 4.7k

{PART II}

A/N: For those of you new here, coming in from the OPLA tags: I enjoy writing character driven stories - thus the OC and not a Reader-insert. I am the type of author that gleefully goes through their baggage and holds a yard sale. And Buggy has a lot of baggage.

PS. I know it's no longer the 90s, and this isn't geocities, but please listen 'Party at Baratie' with Buggy's entrance. I promise, it won't disappoint.

Baratie wasn’t full yet, but it would be by the time the clock struck ten. It always was on Wednesday nights. Shivs cleared the table as the couple rose to shrug on their coats and leave. They were regulars, a fisherman and his wife who liked their baked cod with a generous helping of Zeff’s home ground mustard. More often than not, they brought the fish for their dish. She liked them. They were nice people, quiet people. Baratie’s late night diners tended not to be.

“Ah, a free table.”

Shivs didn’t like the tone of his voice, and never had. “And you are?” she said as she turned around. Even though she knew perfectly well.

“Captain Nezumi of the 16th Branch,” the marine standing behind her said with a huff that made his mouse-like whiskers twitch.

Tall, slim and pointy-faced, he always reminded her distinctly of that rodent. Where’s a cat when you need one, she thought. Shivs crooked an eyebrow, slow and deliberate. “Who?”

“I don’t have to ask who you are,” he hissed, whiskers trilling. “Goji berry red hair, missing eye: short-straw Shivs. A pirate.”

“A waiter.” Shivs wiped down the table. “Reservations go through Xavier.” She raised her hand to alert the maître d’ at the top of the stairs.

“Illegal seaters,” she said as the timid fishman approached them.

“Well, have I never!” she heard Nezumi sputter as she left. Making her way to another table in need of clearing, she was stopped by other regulars — louder regulars. Toby and his crew. Four in all, they were about her own age. She looked at the hand on her elbow, old bruises around the knuckles.

“What is it?” she said as she turned to them and shook it.

“Will there be a show tonight?” Toby grinned, showing off a silver canine through black bangs.

“No, I don’t think so. Can I get you boys anything?”

“It’s Wednesday!” Toby spread his hands in mock disbelief. “There cannot not be a show! We put in real effort to stay sober this long.” The way his grin was lopsided suggested otherwise.

“Tough luck,” Shivs said as she stacked their pint glasses.

A hand around her wrist, the one steadying the glassware. She followed it up his arm and to his face. He’d plastered a preposterous pout on it. “I don’t need luck.”

She considered tugging her wrist, letting him smash the glasses as he pulled her back. And stabbing him in the face with one. “Does that grimace ever work for you?”

Sanji appeared at her side, a tray on his fingertips. “Leave madam alone or I’ll have you lot banned permanently this time.”

Making the smart choice, Toby let go.

“Your drinks, gentlemen,” Sanji said as he took pints from his tray and put them in front of the four pirates. Shivs left while they were distracted. There was not going to be a show tonight, she decided. Fuck them.

At the sudden shouting, followed by a deafening roar and a cackle, Shivs abruptly turned to look behind her. Yet the commotion was up the steps and near the restaurant entrance, where Xavier attempted to calm the motley crowd roused before him. Which included a lion. A large lion with a lilac coat and mane, and red face paint daubed on his snout. Customers seated below had risen to look, too. A woman screamed when the lion roared once more, the sound reverberating through the wooden beams of Baratie’s hull.

“Animals are not allowed inside, good sirs.” Xavier’s nervous voice rose only just above the ruckus.

“Animal? Richie is no mere animal —.”

Shivs squinted, her jaw jutting a little forward. Is that a clown?

“—he is a founding member of my troupe!”

“Richie?” Xavier’s voice pitched as he leafed through his register book. “Oh, ah, he’s on the list. I see. That makes, um, how many?”

“Thirteen.”

“Why yes, of course.” Xavier pushed his glasses up his nose and closed his book. He turned towards the dining room at the bottom of the stairs and caught Shivs’ gaze, motioning her towards the long table in front of the hall’s modest stage.

Taking the hint, Shiv shook out her cloth and went to it.

Xavier coughed for attention, and the few diners that hadn’t been staring up yet turned to do so now. “Captain Buggy,” he announced with sober dignity. “And, hrm. Crew.”

“No. No-no-nono. That is no good!” The blue-haired captain shooed Xavier out of his spot. In red stripes, baggy pants and schmink, he did look like a clown. One that had slept the past week in the bilge. Shivs wondered if he’d reek.

“Spotlight!” He said with a wave of his gloved hand. Benji, the techie that worked the stage lights and curtains during shows, obliged with a nice bright beam, sparkling off the captain’s wide grin. Where the jaunty music came from, Shivs had no idea.

“I am Buggy,” he announced, and it animated his whole face. “Buggy, the Star Clown. Buggy, the Flashy Fool. Buggy, the—.”

“Pirate.”

The music scratched to a stop as Buggy turned on his boot heel to the speaker. It was Nezumi, standing prim with his unit beside the table he’d been denied.

“And your name is?” Buggy pulled a grimace as if he’d found three-day-old cotton candy stuck to his glove. Then it became a grin again, though this time it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nooo, let me guess: Captain Obvious?”

Shivs snorted as a woman in a glittery leotard held up a sign that read ‘laugh’ in gaudy calligraphy, and the diners did.

“My sincere apologies, captain Nezumi,” Xavier said as he ushered the marines away. “But you have no reservation and I must therefore ask you to leave.”

“Toodles!” Buggy said with a little wave.

The spotlight trailed after the marines slinking away, but Buggy snapped his fingers and it promptly returned to him.

“Now, where was I?” He straightened to his full height and adjusted his hat. “Ah yes, I am Buggy!” The music restarted as he flicked out his coat tails behind him and sashayed down the steps, his timing to the tune and his own words impeccable. “Buggy, the Star Clown. Buggy, the Flashy Fool. Buggy, the Genius Jester!” He spread his arms wide as his grin. “Has come to your magnificent establishment with his fabulously flashy troupe!”

Acrobats spilled from behind him, flanking his descent with handstands down the steps and sliding along the curving railings. There was a fire-breather too, causing many ohs and ahs. And the lion, of course, roaring once more.

Shivs gave the table a quick wipe down as they came towards her, spotlight and lion and wide smiles and all. Buggy paused beside her, head cocked, bicorne comically askew.

“What?” she said.

He pouted and pointed at the table. “Missed a spot, candy cane.”

She realised her mistake the moment she leaned forward to look, but he’d already flicked her nose with a cackle. At least the laughter around her sounded forced.

She was going to say something about polishing someone’s overly large nose but didn’t. Up close, she wasn’t so sure it wasn’t real. And she’d glimpsed half a dozen stilettos lining the inside of that tacky fur coat when he bend towards her. No one carried that many unless they knew how to throw them.

Instead, she pulled out the chair at the head of the table for him, and he seemed properly surprised for a moment.

“Such service,” he said as he crossed his long legs and sat down, his grin broad and toothy. She moved her gaze up and narrowly avoided it lingering on his nose. His eyes were as blue as clear ocean skies and framed by impressively long lashes for a man. They batted up at her and that did something. She wondered if the red lipstick covering half his face would smear even further if she kissed him. Wondered if Zeff might actually fire her for it. She had a suspicion this was the ‘special guest’ the old cook had alluded to.

He certainly looked special.

The lion’s grumbled roar drew both their attention.

“There are only twelve seats,” Buggy observed with a note of displeasure.

Xavier all but appeared at his elbow out of nowhere. “Apologies, truly. Perhaps, a divan for the noble beast?”

Buggy glanced at Richie, who sat down with a plop like an overly large dog. He motioned between his own and the seat of a man in a poorly done bear costume. Or was that meant to be a lion also?

“Put it here,” he said, then turned to Shivs, an edge of teeth peeking through his red smile. “Honey cake, the menu?”

“I’ll fetch the chef,” she said. “Would you like something to wet your tongue, in the mean time?”

“North Blue gin?”

She’d somehow expected him to order a cocktail. “Not something sweet?”

His grin managed to split wider yet as his blue eyes flicked down and up. “Are you ‘something sweet’?”

“No.”

He winked and clicked his tongue for emphasis. “Then no.”

“A’right,” Shivs said and made her way back to the galley at the rear of the restaurant. She spotted Zeff by the stove, tasting a creamy-looking soup.

“Needs more oregano,” the old chef muttered under his breath.

“A whole damn circus just arrived,” she said as she walked up to him.

“Ah, good, I was expecting him.” Zeff put the soup ladle down and he turned to her. “Pirate captain. His name is Buggy—.”

“—the clown,” Shivs finished with a chortle. “The face paint gave the surprise away. You know him?”

“We met, briefly. Long time ago,” he brushed her question aside as he wiped his hands on a dishcloth.

“Haven’t seen his mug on paper?” she said. Though that in and of itself wasn’t so strange. Zeff kept Baratie free of that sort of tacky wallpaper. Those who knew, knew. Those who didn’t, dined none the wiser. And she hadn’t left Baratie in… some time.

“It graces a few towns and forts, I imagine,” he said with a smile. “Though probably not as many as he’d like.”

Yes, that ego had been hard to miss. Shivs tilted her head. “How much is his bounty?”

“Twelve million, last print I saw? Probably gone up since then.”

“That’s not bad for the East Blue,” she said, actually surprised. He must have some tricks up his sleeves. It made her think of the knives. And those cheeky blue eyes batting up at her. “Xavier seated them at the oval table. Asked for the menu, told him I’d fetch the chef.”

“Is that so?” Zeff chuckled. “I best get to them then.”

“Zeff.”

The chef paused halfway moving past her.

“I am not performing,” Shivs said. “Not tonight.”

He turned back to her, a frown drawing his bushy eyebrows down. “You like doing it?”

She set her jaw. “If you want a show, ask the clown. I’m sure, if you ask plenty nicely, he’ll have his whole freakshow up on the tables in no time.”

Zeff gave her a fond look. “Our Wednesday guests come for you.”

“No doubt he has some in his troupe as well, if that’s what they want to see.”

“If you want to become better at it, you’ll have to practice.” Humour sparkled in the old pirate chef’s eyes. “Maybe you can get some professional critique, huh?”

From a clown? Her thoughts scoffed. Although, he did have all those knives. People weren’t always 'one act' wonders.

She pursed her lips. “Fine.”

“Atta girl.” He gave her shoulder a good squeeze and a little shake. “Can you start on the dishes until then?”

“Sure.”

By the time ten o’clock came around, Baratie was packed. It always was on Wednesday nights. Shivs had taken off the blouse she wore under her waiter’s vest. This way, she had better freedom of movement. She removed the scarf she wore around her throat and tied up her red hair in a bun. Then adjusted the diving knife in her left boot, concealing it from view.

Coming out of the employee’s toilet and left around the stage from the back, she saw Xavier already stood upon the planks limed in the light of Benji’s spotlight.

“Dear ladies, honoured gentlemen,” Xavier said with solemn dignity. The diners quieted as the lights in the hall dimmed and the spotlight brightened, setting a shimmer to the maître d’s well-manicured scales. “May I introduce to you—.”

“BoooOOOooo!”

Buggy, hands touted beside his mouth like a megaphone as he rose from his seat.

“Sir!” Xavier admonished at the blatant breach of proper etiquette.

The spotlight jumped to the clown, who stood in it like a flower turning towards the sun.

You really love yourself limed in stage lights, don’t you? Shivs thought, standing in the shadows off-stage.

“This is not a show,” Buggy said in a tone as if a great offence had been committed. He spread his arms wide. “This is a farce!”

Before anyone could stop him, he’d hopped on stage, the spotlight kissing his heels. He blatantly stepped in front of Xavier and turned to the diners.

“Grand folk! Welcome, welcome!” he proclaimed with animated gestures — he talked with his whole body. “Tonight, you will have the rare pleasure, the absolute singular privilege, of being the very first to witness Buggy’s Astoundingly Flashy Impromptu Diner Show!”

The lights did a little colour switching dance at his last words. Benji was having fun, at least.

The dinner guests applauded even before the woman held up her sign. Visibly delighted, Buggy turned to Shivs. “You need an introducing act, caramel popsicle.” He beckoned in the direction of his crew without breaking his gaze away. “Cabaji!”

A lanky young adult rose, followed by several fellows. Acrobats and jugglers, turned out. The diners liked it well enough, but the applause was notably less than before. Shivs frowned at the flicker of irritation flitting under the surface of Buggy’s expression the split second before his perpetual grin reasserted itself.

“Next, all the way from the deep, dark South Blue,” Buggy announced, his tone low and dangerous. “A true wild beast, a known man-eater!”

The audience gasped unprompted as the lion came onto the stage with a great roar, the man in the poorly made suit in its wake. Its handler, Shivs supposed.

An elderly lady at a front table, attired in a fabulously expensive appearing gown, waved her fan all but on the brink of fainting.

“Fear not, sweetest of candied apples,” Buggy said, leaning forward from the stage to take her hand and allow for a dramatic pause. He kissed the air just above her silken glove. “Fear not. For the monster is no more.” He rose, spreading his arms as he turned towards the lion while addressing the diners: “He is now Richie, the dancing lion!”

And, sure enough, at a prompt of his handler, the lion rose on its hind legs and danced. It stepped from one paw unto the other, side step here, side step there, turning in a circle and pawing with a front leg punctuated by a much sweeter roar.

The applause was genuine and excellent as the lion sat down with a plop and yawned.

“And now~,” Buggy started.

“FuCk oFF!”

Toby, from somewhere in the rear. Shivs saw Buggy’s hand twitch at his interruption and knew what that meant. Short fuse.

“I am here to see my girl!” Toby added, supported by the hoots of his friends.

Buggy glanced at her and she made a puking face that returned a grin to his. He beckoned her and as she climbed on stage; she resisted the urge to ask if his act was throwing knives, perhaps? But only just. She had about reached his side when Toby opened his mouth again.

“Nobody is here to see your ugly mug, you red-nosed freak!”

Buggy froze.

His crew shrank away.

And those were all the tells Shivs needed, really.

“What did you say…?” Buggy said as he turned slowly towards the audience, a wink of spotlight along concealed blades as his coat shifted with his movement.

“Captain Buggy!” His blue eyes snapped unto her and she held them. “It is time for my act now, isn’t it? It’s been such a wait, is it my turn finally?”

“It is!” he said and his grin split to show teeth again. “It is time!” Buggy spread his arms in sweeping gestures towards her. “For the one, and only, fabulously flashy~!”

He leaned towards her, his tone and mime overacted confusion. “I didn’t catch your name, popcorn pop?”

The audience laughed.

“Shivs,” Shivs said.

He made a comically stabby gesture, and she chuckled despite herself, and the audience with her. “Yes, just like those.”

“The Superbly Spectacular Shivs!” Buggy concluded with a sweeping arch of his arms. The spotlight jumped on her as gold foil poppers showered her in glimmering sparkles and the audience clapped.

He turned to her, his smile all tooth and wide as an oar. “What is your act?”

Not what you think, she thought at the sparkle of cheek in his blue eyes. Instead of an answer, Shivs lifted her left foot slowly, and drew the arm length diving knife from her boot. She flipped and caught it midair, holding it now by the hilt, the blade tip down. Stretching her arm, she lifted it above her head, never breaking their gaze until she had to.

Shivs stretched, straightened and tipped her head back, aligning her esophagus with her spine. She took a deep breath, then let it escape as she slid the blade down her throat. Unblinking, she held her breath and watched the hilt approach. When she felt the short crossguard rest on both corners of her mouth, she let go of the hilt and spread her hands.

Applause exploded from the audience as she turned a full circle, showing a bare neck all around.

She retrieved the blade with care and bowed.

Rising, Shivs glanced at Buggy and saw his eyes were positively gleaming. He clapped no less excitedly than the diners.

“Encore!” an elderly man called as he rose while vigorously clapping, and the call was taken up by the others.

“The audience wants more,” Buggy said, chuffed as if he’d done it himself.

“This is all I can do.”

“No no, that’s no good,” he said with a click of his tongue. “The show must go on.”

Buggy turned to the audience. “Do you want to see the Stunningly Flashy Shivs swallow another blade?” he asked, and the response was unfortunately deafening. “Or two?!”

“Are you insane?” she hissed, grabbing his sleeve.

Buggy turned to her, smiling wide as ever.

And out came the knives.

Four stilettos, similar in type if not in make, precisely. He held the hilts clenched between the fingers of one fist.

“Pick any two.”

This was a terrible idea. She hadn’t done double blades before. His knives were shorter and thinner than her own blade, sure. But multiple meant more insertion time, a longer breath.

Sword-swallowers fucked up only once.

She picked the two that seemed most similar, digging the hilts from between his fingers. She weighed them, one in each hand, gauging their balance.

Then held them up to the audience, eliciting a few encouraging cheers.

She flinched at the twin ‘thunk’ of Buggy throwing the remaining two into the stage’s floorboard. “No foldables here,” he assured the diners, who held onto his every word with baited breaths.

There were many people. Familiar, unfamiliar. Sitting, shifting, fidgeting. She turned to Buggy, training her gaze on him. No distractions. Easier to focus on one face than on a crowd. His expression was eager, his mouth a fraction open. She could see an edge of teeth, the tip of his tongue.

This better not be the image I am taking with me to the grave, she thought as she tilted her head and rolled her eyes at the ceiling. She flipped one stiletto, then the other, bringing the tips up above her head.

She closed her eyes.

Banished that look on his face.

Focus.

She steadied herself, breathing in time with her heartbeat. One deep breath. Two deep breaths. On the third, she blew out and let one stiletto slide down her throat.

4… 5… 6… So far, so good. No new trick, this. But now for the second one, and no deflation to aid the ease of passage.

9…10… She guided it along the blade of the first, counting her heartbeats since breathing out.

15…16…17… The slow heat of suffocation started its ascend from within her chest.

24…25… The second crossguard joined the first. Sweat beaded on her forehead. The applause came from miles away as she spread her trembling hands.

28…29…30… She turned on her heels for an eternity.

32…33…34… Her vision tunnelled as she grabbed their hilts. Her throat shifted, her tongue twitching backward.

And then they were out, and she drew in the breath of the drowning, great gulps of it as she blinked stars from her eyes.

They focussed on Buggy.

His eyebrows had drawn up into a pout, but cotton candy clouds drifted past his wide blue eyes. Her gaze dodged his nose and landed on his mouth. He was biting his bottom lip. Her eyes flicked down, but his baggy pants and sash revealed nothing, or hid everything.

She flipped the stilettos and held them hilt first out to him. “These are yours.”

He snapped out of it with a smile, taking them off her hands and bending down to fetch the ones sunk into the floorboards.

Shivs pursed her lips, watching his butt shift. It was only fair, that look on his face had been a whole lot of something. Stupid clown.

He farewelled the show with the same flourish and drama he’d initiated it. The spotlight dimmed, the curtains closed, and the audience applauded one final time.

“That was more than perfect cherry tootsie,” Buggy beamed as they walked off-stage.

“I regret everything,” Shivs said. A slow, pulsing headache whined at the back of her neck. Her throat was sore. She hoped she hadn’t nicked anything.

Buggy’s face fell faster than the curtains at her words. “You are a talent, a natural, unique,” he said, all hands and exaggerated encouragements as he spoke. “You will be great one day, the greatest! Famous! Performing on the Grand Line, in the New World!”

He was right in front of her now, all but nose to nose. “You are a class act. You are one of a kind. You are—.”

“—in pain.”

“Chocolate toffee you must rest,” he said in a tone people usually got before launching into a hug or some other type of physical reassurance. It never came. He just looked at her with a concerned pout and held his own hands.

She smiled weakly. “I’ll live.”

“You must,” he grinned, then produced a shimmering golden ticket from an inside pocket of his coat. He held it between two fingers and out to her. “You should join my crew.”

“I’ll think about it,” Shivs said as she took the card without really looking at it, and out of politeness more than anything. Short fuse.

She watched him leave with a spring in his step.

It was a long while before the last diners had left, and longer still until the gold confetti had been cleaned up. Shivs sat at the bar, broom leaned against the stool beside her. Baratie was presentable once more. There was a pile of dishes, but those could wait till tomorrow. The ticket Buggy had given her laid on the bar beside her glass of water. It was a gaudy, gold foil iteration of an old-timey circus entrance pass. The front was graced by a red-nosed Jolly Roger, and the back told her on which slip the ship was docked and when they’d leave. Big Top, slip 9. Tomorrow, at 07:00. She’d smiled at the name, wondering if it would look as ridiculous as its captain. Probably.

“Saw you talk,” Zeff said.

Shivs spooked out of her thoughts at his words, not having heard him approach. He stood beside her, drying the last of the pint glasses.

“Any good feedback?”

She pinned the ticket with her middle finger and slid it towards him across the bar. Zeff put the glass down, the dish cloth across his shoulder, and wiped his hands before picking it up.

“Asked you to join his crew?” he said as he read the ticket.

“Hah. Told me to join his crew, more like.”

Zeff handed it back to her. “Will you?”

Shivs wound the ticket around her finger, making the foil crinkle and crackle in the silence. She ran her tongue past her teeth.

“No.”

The short word sounded dry and definitive.

“No,” she repeated as she shook her head and let the ticket unfurl from her finger and fall onto the bar. “He’s weird and pushy.”

“He’s an odd one.” Zeff set the broom aside and sat on the barstool beside her. “Though all pirate captains are, this old cook included.” There was humour in his tone. “The sea gets peculiar with you, you know this.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. It’d been years since she had sailed. She’d thought it would have been different, that last time. That their bond would have mattered. She pulled a stray bang free and watched the red strands slip through her fingers. You pushed your will with smiles, but pushed it all the same.

Zeff gave her a gentle nudge. “He asked you to join his crew, not to marry him.”

Privately, she wasn’t so sure all of them understood the distinction. She did miss the ocean. Baratie was ever at sea, but it was not the same. She realised, she’d held out hope he’d come back. Even though he had told her — 'I am not coming back.'

It made her angry. Angry with him, for leaving. Angry with herself, for. For what? Defaulting to existing instead of living?

Zeff observed her in silence.

“I like my life,” she said. “Here, with you and Sanji. The restaurant, our guests. It’s nice.” And it was, and she refused to be ungrateful. To just… leave.

“Your dream is not becoming a cook,” Zeff said as he tried to catch her gaze. “You’re young yet. You enjoyed being a pirate.”

Shivs looked at the ticket, wrinkled but shining no less for it.

“What is your dream?” he asked gently.

To not be miserable, she thought, then shrugged, half-heartedly. “Swallow the biggest sword on the Grand Line, I guess.”

That drew a chuckle from the old cook. “You are still a pirate, and you want to become the best sword-swallower across the Blue.” His gaze flicked from her to the ticket and back. “Sounds to me, this is the crew to be.”

12 million, she thought. It was not nothing, but. “I don’t want to tie myself to an anchor thrown into the East Blue.”

“You know, I once met a captain along the Grand Line while searching for the All Blue.” Amusement tugged at the corner of Zeff's lips. “Decent fellow, solid crew. Though I distinctly remember being mouthed off by someone with a red nose.”

Shivs cocked her head. “He’s sailed the Grand Line? Under whom?”

“A good captain. Went before his time, really.” Zeff’s face clouded with sorrow. “Famous now only for his last words and lost treasure.”

Shivs speared the ticket with a finger. “That’s a former Roger pirate?” Impossible. “He can’t be that old.” He was maybe a few years older than her, tops. “He’d have been—.”

Zeff smiled. “���half as tall as he is now.”

Shivs sat back, crossing her arms. Thinking.

“Why would he leave the Grand Line?”

Now it was Zeff who shrugged. “Ask him?”

“That’ll go over well, I am sure,” Shivs huffed, amused despite herself. Hi, why did you tail it out of the Grand Line? Oh, it was embarrassing? Oops. No, not bloody likely that she’d ask.

Zeff observed her for a moment, then said: “Will you be skipping breakfast, tomorrow?”

Shivs glanced at the ticket. The ship, the slip, the time. She smoothed the creases out of the jolly Roger, running a finger right across its big red nose.

“I’ll think about it.”

Zeff patted her shoulder and rose. “You do that, girl.”

Shivs watched him leave, listened to the tap of his peg-leg receding. Then rose, crumpled the ticket and threw it on the ground.

Tag list: @gingernut1314 @gabegade

Stupid clown.

{PART II}

[waystarresourceco]

General PSA

(followed by Lore Masterlist):

As I’m attempting to organize the scattered bits of Succession lore and headcanons as provided by the actors and/or the primary creative directors (Jesse Armstrong and Mark Mylod), I thought it might be helpful to create a pinned menu for folks to navigate lore posts more easily. The goal here is just to make this material accessible, not to impose any strict reading on the show or to dictate what is or isn’t a “right” reading. The positions here are simply reposted for general fandom access.    

Below the cut are links to the gathered bits of lore organized by character. Let me know if it would also be helpful to use another denomination system and/or if there’s anything else you’d like to see added – ask box is always open!

Note: This will be updated regularly via edits as more lore is added.

ROY FAMILY:

LOGAN:

Logan and Ewan's childhood l How Logan recruited Colin l Logan and Gerri’s backstory l Logan and Marcia’s connection l Roy family discipline (TW physical abuse) l Logan and Caroline's friendship with Gerri and Baird l Caroline and Logan’s divorce l Logan and Marcia’s connection

CONNOR:

Connor’s age l Connor’s Mom l Connor and neurodivergence l Roy family discipline (TW physical abuse) l  Connor’s education l Connor’s yurt business

KENDALL:

Kendall’s childhood stuffed raccoon l How the Caroline-Logan divorce impacted Kendall l Dog pound l Kendall and Roman sneaking out to pubs l Kendall’s art knowledge/ Time spent at the Tate l Roy family discipline (TW physical abuse) l Kendall and Rava’s backstory l Kendall and Nate’s backstory l Kendall’s degrees and office items

ROMAN:

Time spent at the Tate l Dog pound l  Roy family discipline (TW physical abuse) l Roman and Kendall sneaking out to pubs l Roman’s understanding of the “the game” and limits l Roman and food (TW ED)

SHIV:

Time spent at the Tate; Shiv’s grime era/college Shiv l Shiv’s friendship with Lisa l Shiv’s relationship with Logan l  Caroline’s gifted earrings to Shiv l Shiv’s reading taste   

EWAN:

Ewan and Logan's childhood

ROY FAMILY PARTNERS AND EXES (+ STEWY):

CAROLINE:

Caroline and food (TW ED) l Caroline and art l Caroline and Logan’s friendship with Gerri and Baird l Caroline and Logan's divorce l How the divorce impacted Caroline’s relationship with Kendall l Caroline’s view of the Golden Trio l Caroline’s gifted earrings to Shiv

MARCIA:

Marcia and Logan's connection

WILLA:

Willa's backstory

RAVA:

Rava’s job and background l Rava and Megathump l Rava and Jess post-show

NAOMI:

How Naomi knows Tabitha l Tabitha and Naomi have fucked

STEWY:

Stewy’s name l Emigrating from Iran

TABITHA:

Tabitha’s job l How Tabitha knows Naomi l  Tabitha and Naomi have fucked

TOM:

Tom’s reading taste

WAYSTAR ROYCO:

GERRI:

Gerri and Baird's friendship with Logan and Caroline l Gerri and Logan’s backstory l Gerri’s daughters

JESS:

Jess and Rava post-show

COLIN:

Colin's backstory

FRIENDS & RIVALS

Sandi Furness's backstory l Nan Pierce's and Kendall talking art l Lisa Arthur's friendship with Shiv

EPISODE COMMENTARY

Arian on the bathroom scene in Lifeboats

DELETED SCRIPT SCENES

Caroline, Logan, and Marcia at Pre-Nuptial

[neonblessing]

3.

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT! ⚠️ Click here to read Neon Blessing from the beginning!

She could really go for a croissant, not that it was up to her. The people with money and jobs ordered their breakfast off of Cafe Kuro’s real paper menus, and she ordered her breakfast off of unattended plates.

Reckless thieves got caught, or killed, or lost an arm and nearly died in their friend’s arms. For example. Shiv had resolved to be less reckless. As she saw it, there were three problems that needed solving if she was going to eat.

First, there was the issue of her silhouette. Being down an arm hopefully wasn’t a permanent problem, but prosthetics took cash she didn’t have, and in the meantime it was an obvious identifying marker. She ducked off the main road, and squatted down next to a dumpster overflowing with trash, just one more broken piece of garbage no one who was anyone would look twice at.

Working quickly, she opened her bag, digging around until she procured a shirt and pants. Unpinning the sleeve of her coat and stuffed the clothes into it before sticking the end of the sleeve into her pocket. It wasn’t the sort of thing that would hold up to close inspection, but a stolen pastry shouldn’t garner too much attention. She calmly stood and exited the alley like she’d just been passing through.

She’d solved the second problem the first time she robbed Cafe Kuro, over a decade ago. Gin, a kid a few years her elder, had walked her through figuring out the blind spots of the street’s security cameras. You didn’t have to avoid the cameras’ notice all the way, merely confine illicit activity to those safe harbors.

As she approached the cafe, she double checked that the angles of the cameras were unchanged. As she made almost-but-not-quite-eye-contact with the rectangular bulk of each camera, Shiv recalled what Gin had told her: “Big cameras like these aren’t really to watch people, they’re to remind them they’re being watched.” They existed to make the desperate amateur think twice before trying anything, but to Shiv they might as well not be there at all.

The last thing she had to do was order off the only menu she had access to. There were seven tables in the blind spots, and six of them had plates. She sat down on a bench, wishing she still had a phone to pretend to look at. She settled for affecting the glassy stare of someone with an implanted HUD.

The first time someone stood from one of the tables, they quickly gathered their things and left. The second person to stand turned and walked into the store, to piss or to pick up a drink. He looked like an asshole in his dark blue suit, and his hands flashed silver as he pushed in his chair.

The most common mistake a novice thief made was moving too quickly. Running, a quick grabbing hand, they all triggered some animal part of the brain and attracted attention. You couldn’t be slow, either. The movements had to be smooth. You practiced what you could beforehand, and planned out what you couldn’t practice.

Shiv walked into the seating area like she intended to enter the cafe. At the threshold, she turned around–not quickly, but purposefully–as if she’d remembered something she had to do elsewhere. As she passed the abandoned plate, her arm swept the fancy tart upon it into a pocket, and then she was out.

Cafe Kuro was on the way to Ornarch’s domain, and, on second thought, not far from where Gin had died.

First Page – Previous Page – Next Page

[csny]

shiv: here’s the menu!

the menu:

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S06E08

Another good episode. As a disclaimer, I’ve had a pretty specific idea of how this episode should be like, so I went in a little bit negatively predisposed. Also, these aren't in order. Sorry.

I remember the dead guy. He was in the episode with Meghan Ory’s character, the first one of the two.

“He’s dead. Are you happy?” Calm down, ma’am, you’re giving him reasons to be stupidly self-sacrificing.

Joe: Charlie no. Charlie: Charlie yes.

“We’re going to transfer all the inmates I’ve arrested out of the prison.” You’ll… what… now?

“I’ll find your killer and get rid of your drug problem”. And also fix your plumbing (oh, wait), clean your laundry, and create a gourmet menu for your prison.

Okay they did find a good reason for Rex to be in there. I'd still have preferred Charlie alone in prison and Rex investigating on the outside.

I hate this hairstyle. There, I said it. However, it’s more fitting to prison inmate Chuck than what Charlie has had all season so far as a cop. Which has actually been tolerable as an image despite not fitting the character, and I refuse to spend more time on that because I keep seeing it being commented on and when this keeps happening, I feel bad.

I think I know the actor who plays Charlie’s prison bunkmate but I can’t place him.

Charlie displayed a lot of badassery in this episode. Also, I think John Reardon did some good work acting wise in this one.

Charlie said “I love you”, “babe”, “you’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen”, “sweetheart” to Sarah, and all of that while he was undercover in prison and through the phone??? Who do I talk to about this? How was there not a better moment for this? It’s like they wanted to throw these words out in the open in the least romantic way possible.

The way I hate “babe” and yet every single couple I ship is using it… They’re lucky I’ve been desensitized since Castle.

And Sarah’s facepalm on the other end lmao. It’s obviously not the first “I love you” at least. I wonder what she calls him.

I liked the instrumental music for the prison scenes. It was very much on point.

Damn, they put him in solitary for 24 hours. This couldn’t have awakened any claustrophobic feelings from a) the freezer b) the cave collapse, c) the coffin he was buried in d) the containers that almost turned him into a pancake? Come on, guys. Also, do they or do they not have solitary in Canada? It can’t keep changing according to the season.

Sarah worried because her idiot almost died in prison. Charlie finally (I might pass out) having a moment of weakness? Saying that he misses Sarah and Rex? I did not think I'd live to see it.

Jesse saying that they'd pull out Charlie if it gets too dangerous… This is way too optimistic. Realistically, he would have gotten shivved before anyone could do anything about it.

Rex totally wanted to maul that guy for injuring Charlie. Once again, why can’t we see him baring his teeth? German shepherds have scary canine teeth, they’re not just cute and cuddly.

I liked Joe as a guard. And interrogating the suspect, getting a bit handsy with him.

Detective Jesse Mills. Doing interrogations. Detecting lol

Bringing back a bad guy from S1? Interesting choice. I barely remember the guy. And wasn’t that episode like a collective fandom hallucination or something? When Charlie mentioned the guy had killed a kid I was like, oh so we haven’t seen that case. That’s how much I don’t remember that episode.

“Lots can change in that time” Charlie, you’re squeaky clean, bud. You tried to be “bad” in S4 and lasted for like four minutes.

Also, in every show I’ve seen, once a cop enters prison, no one cares whether he’s a disgraced cop. They’d want to kill him either way.

Either they shot the scenes of the prison yard in one day or it was raining all the days they had those scenes. Very gloomy weather, it added a bit of extra grime to the episode.

“Do you want to read the letters with me?” Absolutely not. He wants to go back home, hug his girlfriend and have a hot shower to wash the prison off of him. Maybe this all happened off screen already. I don’t care. I didn’t see it so it didn’t happen.

I liked the episode. It didn’t go my way at all but it’s understandable. I wanted some more danger towards the end, as people were catching on to the fact that Charlie was a cop. Also, Charlie had way too much communication with the team, I know it doesn’t make sense for me to not want that, but it also doesn’t make sense for an undercover cop in prison to be able to be in touch with almost every member of his team throughout the episode. Did I want a Charlie and Sarah scene in the end? Absolutely.

Promo: That is a pretty lame promo for what should be a character centric episode. It looks like a complete filler, devoid of character moements. I hope it will be a character centric episode and not a filler NCIS episode (because Navy). Hopefully it’s just lousy promo editing and not a lousy episode. Interesting choice for Charlie’s dad. And I know people might hate me for this, but I’ll say it anyway. I did prompt a few storylines to an AI model about Charlie facing off his dad, and the AI would always, always have his dad call him Charles. Fucking hell.

There’s no way Sarah is not meeting Charlie’s dad, right? I need to be reassured.

Dude seems so dismissive of Rex that I hope Rex bites him. He should be allowed to bite family members who are being assholes.

[aidenoconnell]

Luci is practically bursting at the seams when Aiden tells her about the drive-in. She loves seeing movies, first of all, but now she’s getting the old-time charm of the drive-in and they’re horror movies? Like it was made for her or something. Not to mention there’s a definite warmth inside her chest when Aiden practically tells her this event reminded him of her.  It’s going well, she thinks, the two of them. She texts Kat about her excitement as she gets ready.  She’s wearing a pair of comfortable jeans and an oversized sweater, and she’s looking over at the concession stand while Aiden prepares the back of his truck.  “The first movie is Psycho and definitely one of my favs--did you know they used Hershey syrup for blood because it came across better on film than using fake blood?” 

"I actually did know that," he laughs softly. "Think I read it in one of those Buzzfeed articles or somethin'," he comes back around the truck, closing up the tailgate for now and motions over for them to get in line for the concession stand. He sticks a hand into his sweatpants and wanders over with Luci, looking at over people that are set up in their hatch backs or they have lawn chairs, whatever works fro them.

He looks at the menu and popcorn is on his list, but this place actually has pretty good fries as well. Tough choices to make but when him and Jack come, Shiv always packs them extra snacks. Maybe Aiden should have done that. "What are you thinking of getting? There's some combo options," he points.

[bamboobrat]

succession s4 e7 recap: tom, the one pepper menu item, gets spicy

sorry for the delayed recap this week, girlies. somehow i had a life to live and it was not very conducive to breaking down an episode where literally everyone is going through a breakup.

oh well.

we start the episode at tom and shiv's, where tom has made her breakfast after a long night of boning.

(this is an episode for the foodies, btw. did you guys notice?)

he gives shiv a scorpion as a present because she is toxic and can kill him.

hilarious joke, tommy. hilarious.

all is not well in this household. and none of the other significant relationships seem to be doing that well either:

this shot.... succession camera person, i see you.

i'm so happy we get to see rava, even if the writers are giving us crumbs at this point.

she tells ken to call her daughter. sophie is scared of the election and all the racist rhetoric which is spewed most prominantely by her father's news network.

ken pulls out his inner logan:

seems like most of the kids do this episode and it is certainly not a good thing for their personal relationships....

this goes for everyone except connor, who honestly seems to be having a great time this episode.

he's just happy his father is dead and that he is polling at 4 percent in alaska.

truly a power play by the writers to give con all the best lines in the episode. our girl is thriving!!

the tom/shiv saga continues, this time with sexting.

can't believe they are getting some of the best classically trained theater actors in the world to write this shit.

and make faces like this:

what time to be alive.

ATN is downsizing. greg is out for skulls.

shiv and tom host a tailgate party before the election which isn't really a tailgate party and all the finest people in the land are gathered, including a strange tv couple and a podcast god.

roman and ken are using the occasion to spread doubt about mattson and the gojo deal:

just two failsons/CE-bros working together for the good of the republic.

also, they've invited nate to go regulatory on mattson's ass, which tom is of course totally chill about.

it's the guest appearance nobody asked for and yet he has more screen time than gerri in this episode. the succession writers truly do not understand me.

con is offered a post as ambassador to somalia if he drops out of the race by mencken, but mogadishu isn't really his vibe.

he came to win this episode.

gerri arrives at the party and roman is like, phew, my girlfriend isn't mad at me for firing her and my guy frank probably worked it all out with her for me, right? right???

wrong.

it's giving high school drama.

let's all take a moment to imagine gerri, three martinis down, ranting about what a little shithead roman is.

the girlies stick together<3

mattson arrives at the tailgate party after shiv tells him about the regulatory route dumb and dumber over there are planning to go down.

he arrives during a moment of silence for logan, but not to worry, this swede knows how to behave and will not put his dick in the guac.

WHAT. IS. THIS. JACKET.

lukas is, of course, his normal charming self:

my face exactly when i'm caught between my potential future boss and the guy i've been boning nonstop for the past 12 hours.

the roman/con negotiations continue. it's a no on the slos, con wants to take berlin by christmas and contemplates opening up north korea like nixon did china.

it's giving napoleon, it's giving girlboss.

if you can believe it, you can achieve it, con con.

but alas, he is offered oman.

shiv asks mattson this:

if i was mattson i would eat her out right then and there.

i'm having perfectly normal feelings about it.

nate continues to.... be there.

luckily he doesn't stay for long. bye bye, nate. see you never!!!

con tries to sell willa on the whole oman thing:

the pros are: no lines at the airport and you can hit people with your car. bonus: you actually DON'T have to live under ground.

this is perhaps the first time in succession history that we see a couple have a truly genuine discussion about what their next move should be - together.

sticking up for your man's delusions really works out, i guess.

oscar is great.

he doesn't like greg. i like oscar.

ebba wants to murder everybody:

communications people with social anxiety, unite!

greg is a try-hard and joins in on the hazing of ebba.

i don't think i've ever liked him less.

anyway, turns out it helps the failbros, who come to ebba's rescue, smoke a cig with her, figure out lukas is basically not the coder from gothenburg he says he is, but instead some swedish elon musk type who took some tech to marked.

bravo.

oh, and his numbers in india are completely wack.

rome and ken are ecstatic!

lets run down a list of mattson's flaws so far: - fudged the numbers - sent weird items to his employee - potentially has a little drug problem? - calls things he doesn't like gay

totally inappropriate for a company like waystar, in other words.....

roman does the best gerri impression i've ever heard.

i know j. said she thinks the impression is stupid but i had to watch that moment three times to figure out if it was actually her saying the line or not, so..... sorry j. <3

gerri is done.

i feel unwell. someone please convince me this isn't their last ever scene together.

j. said there'd be ups and downs. WHERE ARE THE UPS?

roman is upset and takes it out on connor in his best logan impression to date:

con is like nah, i'm good on oman and willa is like everyone hates your fascist candidate, roman.

good for them.

ken and mattson fight over who has the fakest numbers.

mattson shits on new york like a true swede.

anyone doing the "drink every time someone fights" game this episode is dead by now.

speaking of, we get the best hbo balcony scene since the wire season 3 episode 11.

at the risk of mixing my hbo references, this is my red wedding.

the fight goes something like this:

shiv: you are a social climber tom: you are broken, you never got your dads approval and you shouldn't have kids because you are horrible

at least now tom can get some sleep, i guess, because the bonefest is certainly over.

ken talks to frank about taking doing a reverse viking, meaning waystar buys gojo, not the other way around.

OH MY GOD THESE KIDS. they can't even fucking pull off ONE deal before they are on to the next. c'mon.

oh and he wants the CEO position for himself. shocker.

imagine being frank in this scenario. just imagine.

tom is tired from all the sex and all the talk about him getting fired and acts exactly like me whenever i have people over:

tired girlies need representation too.

the era of wambsgans ire is here.

shiv is like oh fuck.

the episode ends with everyone pretty much being alone. there are no teams anymore. there are zero hugs except for one very disturbing one between mattson and ken, and i'm having a hard time remembering if i like any of these characters at all.

oh no, wait, i like connor.

it's all good. i still like connor.

ps: WHERE IS KARL?!

[elvhenmage]

4,7,9,16,18 for your tav OC questions 🖤🖤🖤 also ily, i already miss you and i hope you have fun on your trip!

MISS YOUUU 🫂

20 tav QOTDs

4. how do they sleep with their LI (what position, does one steal the blankets, is one too hot/cold, etc)?

astarion and makaria: they’re both cold natured, so they get all tangled up under at least two blankets. like i can see this very clearly in my head and if i knew how to draw this i would. his chin’s on the top of her head, she’s got one arm tucked up against between them and the other draped over his waist, his arms wrapped around her… 🥰 even if she doesn’t sleep, she’s very comfortable

shadowheart and makaria: i like when shads is a shorty so she gets to be little spoon and makaria uses her as a little heater :) arms around shadowheart’s waist, one leg hooked around hers, a blanket or two on top. i do think shadowheart is a blanket-stealer also, idk why but i just Feel it. makaria would be if not for shadowheart being so warm that she’d rather hug her than steal a blanket

7. do they collect anything (gems, bottles, keys, etc)?

she collects little gems to turn into jewelry! it’s her favorite camp hobby :) she keeps them in a little velvet pouch she picked up from god knows where and she’s really good at identifying even the dirtiest stones

9. if they had to be put in a “get along shirt” with a companion, who would it be?

hmmm. i’d have to say jaheira because they take the piss out of each other more than any other companionship lmao makaria’s always calling her an old bitch and jaheira’s always thumbing her nose and calling her bhaal-child. but they love each other so dearly <3

16. what’s the description of their underwear in the inventory menu?

An aura of bloodlust accompanies these undergarments … or is that just the wearer?

18. what modern day tv show would they binge over a weekend? do they get their LI to watch with them?

fuck dude i just know she is insane about succession. she’d have a fucking blast watching the never-ending train wreck that is succession. and given we’ve talked before abt the tomshiv-ness of her and gortash, i think the way shiv’s story ends would send her off the deep end lmfao

i think astarion wouldn’t care to watch initially but he’d walk in during, like, the scene where roman’s picking on that kid at the baseball game and he’d get sucked in for a while. i don’t know abt shadzy yet, i feel like i don’t Know Her well enough yet

[pessimisticwastelandprincess]

I'll find a new place to be from.

https://spotify.link/lKWRjyjgxBb

an alien returns home

DVD Menu/Phoebe Bridgers

Mary Jane's Last Dance/Tom Petty

Cloudbusting/Kate Bush

Crop Circles/Odie Leigh

Chinese Satellite/Phoebe Bridgers

Another New World/Punch Brothers

The Great Big Gig in the Sky/Pink Floyd

Me and Your Mama/Childish Gambino

The Stranger/Billy Joel

Satellite/Harry Styles

Meeting the Master/Greta Van Fleet

Ventura Highway/America

Homeward Bound/Simon and Garfunkel

Sons & Daughters/The Decemberists

I Know the End/Phoebe Bridgers

Again, recommended to listen in order!

My other playlists:

Roman Roy Shiv Roy Kendall Roy Apocalypse

[thumbtackcurious]

Where's that post of someone wanting to see Tom take Greg to the restaurant from The Menu, cause I'm starting to think that he and Shiv would genuinely have fun at a dinner there

[appdevelopersblogs]

Custom Restaurant Website & App Development Services by Shiv Technolabs

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With robust backend systems and user-friendly interfaces, we ensure smooth integration of features like online ordering, customer reviews, and real-time updates, all while making sure your digital presence is fully optimized for both mobile and desktop platforms.