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carmenized-onions · 6 days

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Loosen Your Grip. | R & D

logline; even when it seems counter-intuitive.

[!!!] series history; so many parts, so many words.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. 8 hour mark officially! Lets go!

portion; 15k knowing the next chapters, this trend isn't going to change. they have started to line up with the chapter number, to my chagrin.

possible allergies; i think this one is relatively harmless? Stress though. Everyone's stressed. Idk what to tell you man, it's the bear. oh but more things were yoinked from Season 3!! Think that's just gonna be ongoing tbh. also if this is bad don't tell me. tell me it's really good, actually. i've never doubted a chapter more than I do this one.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader it's so fem. it's so she/her'd it's so girl'd i'm so sorry

kofi; if you’ve enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!

i'm so sorry for the delays beloveds, can you say 'most high stress but high reward month and a half of my life'? i can!!!

The Monday morning after New York— The first morning waking up in your own bed in a day or two— Comes rudely. Well, not immediately. First you have to roll over and grab aimlessly at your nightstand, searching for your phone to turn off your alarm. Through blurred vision you slide it to snooze, and as you debate going back to bed, your eyes glaze over some texts you’ve received in your sleep, from numbers you never bothered to put in your contacts. It takes a minute to absorb the information and register it as real, but once you do—

“...Are you fucking kidding me?!”

—You’re definitely not gonna be heading back to bed anymore. You’re wide-eyed and wired— You can probably skip coffee this morning. Maybe every morning forever.

“Oh— I fucking hate this fucking city, I fucking hate Chicago— Fuck this!”

In lieu of coming to terms with your world shattering news, perhaps this is an important moment to express gratitude, for the things that have gone well in the past few days.

The rest of the weekend in New York was as lovely as a last-minute trip in a cramped car full of kitchen equipment and four neurotics can be.

Gratitude. Highlight reel?

There’s a bag M and Ms monogrammed with Syd’s, Richie’s, Carmy’s, and your faces in your pantry now. Eva shouldn’t be the only one allowed to have fun. Though snacking on all your cute little faces does make you feel like a slight monster.

Managed to get a good gift for Richie. Thank you Tiffanys. It was certainly an interesting moment when everyone tried to come up with lame excuses as to why they had to split up from the group to definitely totally not go get Christmas presents.

Carmen’s knife guy wasn’t able to do engravings on such short notice, and you’re not the type to settle for less, especially not with Syd, so that’ll be a next year gift, it seems. You came up with a serviceable back-up while strolling through the MET— Which was a mostly fun field trip, it was very inspiring. You all could've done without Richie's pretentious prattling about postmodern absurdist dadaism. Mostly because you're pretty sure half of it was wrong; but still a good trip, all told.

Still lost on what to get Carmen… You’ve got a week, it’s fine. You’ve done more with less before. How do you subtly ask a guy, ‘hey, what the hell else do you like besides your job?’ You’ll figure it out. Figure it out like you figure out everything else, like you always do. Hopefully.

It's Monday. You've got a week. It's fine. Stop looking at your phone. This is such bad timing. This is awful fucking timing. You’ll figure it out. Stop looking at your phone, stop looking at the texts. Do the Connections, send it to Carmy, he already sent his, be normal… Just such bad timing—

At the very least if you can't bear to look away from the life ruining texts, just shut your phone off. You’ve got to stop ruminating or you’ll rot in bed forever. And you really have to get out on time, today.

“God wants me to kill myself—” Gratitude. Express gratitude.

The drive back went ‘well’. Everyone had their licenses so the squad took shifts either driving or sitting on the uncomfortable console. Or, in your case specifically, sitting half on Carmen’s lap in shotgun on occasion despite the many complaints from Syd and Richie. You had a good excuse! Neither of you slept for the entire trip just to work on the cocktail and coffee menu. It was practically a sacrifice! It was just easier to sit up front together, okay!? You had to be close, you were scribbling ratios and drawings of glasses into a stolen notepad from the Holiday Inn with pencil crayons bought from FAO Schwarz—

Oh, hey, put that on the gratitude scoreboard, that was another thing that went well. Pretty cool to go to the oldest toy store in America. Might not have gotten the chef in your life anything yet, but the kids in your life are covered— You’re winning best Aunt for sure.

Oh, huge highlight— Didn’t say love you, like some idiot. Got away with that by the skin of your teeth, honestly. Hard to stare up at the Rockefeller Christmas Tree next to the guy and not blurt out something fucking stupid. Thank God for Syd, who stomped on your foot when you seemed a little too doe eyed.

With great pain and bemoaning, you finish expressing gratitude, which hasn’t helped much. You slam your phone screen down on your nightstand and roll out of bed.

Today’s Monday. Today’s your first day at The Bear. Today that is the priority and there is nothing else to worry about.

You signed your contract last night. Talked to Syd for hours about it, planning next steps and goals and classes and budgets and a million other things. You’re both a little easily excitable, when it comes to lists and plans. Watching you sign yours gave her the ‘confidence’ to sign hers, if you can call it that. Not like you knew she needed the help, though.

“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life…” If you keep saying it while washing your face in the bathroom, it’ll become true, right? …Where’s Sara’s card again?

The Bear doesn’t run service on Mondays, so it’s a good day to do onboarding— Good day to do R and D. …What does one wear to R and D? Don’t need the serving uniform. Don’t need to dress up. Don’t need the jumpsuit… This is the first time you don’t need a uniform and that is bizarre.

You’ll wear your dad’s flannel, at least. Feels illegal to not wear the patch worked flannel. But besides that, you’re just a normal… restaurateur… part of the team…

Your hand hovers over where your necklace sits, in the small jewellery box on your vanity. “Mikey, if you want me to keep wearing it, make my ceiling cave in or some shit.”

You give it ten seconds and nothing falls. With a curt nod to no one, you pick up your book bag filled with loose tools and the menu filled notepad. Leave your bedroom, put your shoes on, grab your keys out of your clay dish tray on the way out.

It’s snowing.

That’s a lot of stuff falling, so to speak.

That’s basically a sign. That’s basically what you asked for.

You head back in, grab the necklace, hook it over your neck, and tuck it under your shirt. Baby steps. You head back out.

…And then soon after, head back in— Forgetting one of the most important things you need today. “The fucking glass, goddamn it!”

There’s a chance that today might be a little bit of an off day for you. No one’s gonna notice that, though.

“Mikey, why didn’t you tell me? You want me to look stupid on my start day, don't you? Fucker.”

You’re good. You’re you. You figure shit out. You’re compartmentalising perfectly and no one’s gonna be able to tell that you’re internally scrambling to figure out where you're gonna live once your lease gets terminated.

“ ‘Sup with you?” Okay, so Tina did immediately notice upon opening the back door for you. She tries to help you with the huge sheet of plexiglass you’re carrying, but you wave her off, stumbling further inside The Bear. Thankfully it’s a slow start to the morning, so the walk way is clear for your fumbled steps.

“I got it, T, just spot me—”

“Woahwoahwoah—” But alas, immediately Carmen is rushing over, making a big deal over nothing, “Fuck are you doin?” And grabs the thick sheet of glass from you. “Wait by your car next time, why do I gotta keep tellin’ you?”

“I am very capable—” You grunt, but you’re relieved when he takes the weight off you. You nod to the table in front of expo. “Put it on the island.”

“What’s it for?” Carmy asks but he follows direction without hesitation.

“Syd’s idea.” You walk with him, sidling up to Syd who’s already stationed up on the island with what looks like way too much paperwork for Chefs. You bump her shoulder as a greeting, she bumps you back. She lifts up the stack of papers and you pick up her deli container of Coke and ice, letting Carmen slide the glass onto the table.

“Unless it’s bad—” You correct, putting the cup down and digging through the tool bag on your shoulder for the right parts. “If you hate it, then it’s my idea.”

Syd snorts next to you, putting the papers back down on top of the glass. “Nice save.”

“What’s your idea, Chef?” Carmen taps his fingers against the glass, bemused.

You finally fish out two lock hinges from your bag, gesturing to them with a little flair like you’re Vanna White as Sydney explains. “For R and D. Thought since we’re like— Constantly changing shit and needing to review, it’d be like, useful to have a whiteboard— But those are huge and inconvenient for a restaurant— Duh— So—”

“Glass!” You come in with the assist as she rambles on. “On hinges— These one’s lock so you can have the glass sort of tilted up like an easel, or on the station— And then when you start service you can just flip it down off the counter for the night. Easy!”

“And—And—” Like a TV ad, Syd points out, “We can put paper under it and still be able to see— So it’ll make editing clearer— I-I think.”

Carmen always takes a nerve-wracking amount of time to think through other’s ideas, but once he nods, you both breathe easy. “Smart idea. Thank you, Chefs.”

You just smile, and this seems to bother Carm. Or at the very least, something is bothering him, as he frowns. “You got a second?”

Your brows furrow, for a moment, worried. You nod, putting your tools down. Glass can wait. “Always.”

Carmen comes around the counter, before he pulls you aside, Syd whispers over your shoulder, “Trouble in paradise.” Making you snort. When has it ever been paradise?

The two of you lean across from each other in the doorway of Carmen’s office, not quite in, not quite out. He looks worried, and his worrying is making you worry. He’s first to say something, concerned hand on your shoulder.

“Are you good?”

Fuck, he caught you too? “Hmm? Yeah, I’m good, do I not—”

You’re halfway through your response when he interrupts, he seems even more panicked by your words. His hand abandons your shoulder. “Right— Stupid, stupid fucking question— I just— Sorry—”

“Woah—” You grip both his shoulders, rubbing down his sleeves lightly. “Are you good, Carmy? You’re right, sweets. You caught me. I’m a lil’ off today. What gave me away?”

“Right, yes— You’re nice.” He’s saying it more to himself than you, like he needs to remind himself. Even so, it still hitches your heartbeat. “I— I’m good, I was just—You didn’t text me back this morning.”

“Oh.” You say it so breathlessly, with relief. It’s cute that that’s what’s got him freaking. “Sorry, yeah, I’ve been trying to not look at my phone, I just got some…” You shake your hand in the air for effect. “Bleh news. Put a wrench in some things for me, that’s all.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Ah—” You shake your head, waving it off, “Too much to get into. Later, though?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whenever you want.” He nods. “Ah, I wanna get into uhm—” Carmen snaps his fingers a few times, finding the words. “Get into drinks, today. I made all the concentrates and syrups ahead of time—But Uncles gonna come in first with The Computer to go over some numbers shit— Should be here in thirty?”

You nod, squinting. “Is it like… A special computer or something?”

“Computer is a guy.” Carmen says, while Syd yells the same in tandem with him, “Why wouldn’t he be!?” Walking past you both as she carries produce out of the walk-in.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” You grin, reiterating. Your smile soon sobers though, as you finally notice a giant silver blob of machinery behind Carmen. “Baby, what the fuck is that?”

You’re already walking past him, quickly winding up all over again. It’s a gorgeous espresso machine— “It’s an Ascaso.” Explains Carmen. “It’s the best.” And it’s sitting exactly where your beautiful beat up mistake of a heavily-stained coffee machine used to be.

“Baby, baby, baby—” you’re looking above and below the station for your rusted companion, hushed and panicked. “Don’t tell me you threw away the old one—”

“You want the old one?”

Richie’s timing is perfect, as he walks in from front of house, and even from just hearing the last sentence, “Fuckin’ told you, Carm.” He knows the context. He keeps walking— On a mission, seemingly.

“I’m grateful— I- I am.” You kneel down and shove some mixing bowls aside to see if it was tucked in the back of some shelf— It’s not here. She’s not here. “New is good— New is nice— I’ll learn how to use the new one— I will— But— I— I need the old one— You didn’t throw it away, did you?”

When he stays silent, you turn and look up to Carmen from where you’re crouched on the ground, pleading. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I— I—” The Chef is nearly sweating from this line of questioning alone. “It— It barely worked—”

“I know it didn’t! That’s the point!”

He blinks. You just seem to be saying all his trigger phrases, today, huh? “That’s the point?”

“I knew how she worked.” You push yourself back up onto your feet. “It’s got an espresso function that doesn’t work, if you tamp the basket the basket literally breaks off so you have to hold it and burn your hand a little— You have to hold the hot water button at the same time as the grind button for some reason or it won’t dispense— It’s literally a fucking nightmare— I covered it in like ten sticky notes of instructions at one point and they became pointless because no one but me was willing to use it. And— And I’ve got it memorized.”

“...And you want that?”

“No one’s gonna know how to take care of her, she’s my baby!” You gesture, albeit a bit too dramatically, speaking with your hands. “If you throw her away or donate her, no one’s gonna take the time to figure it out— They’re just gonna think she’s broken but she’s not, she works! She just needs the right hand!”

A dull silence falls between you, as Carmen purses his lips, squinting. There’s an ever slight chance your ‘I’m totally fine’ facade is cracking. “...Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your thing right—”

“I’m good!” “...Okay.” “Did you get rid of her?”

“Relax, Handy!” Carmen does not say this.

You grimace, looking behind Carmen to see Chi-Chi yelling from around the bend, in The Beef’s corner territory. Looking over him with the blue apron calling you your least favourite nickname by far— Well, second least favourite, only to— “She’s over here, Jack-Off. More our speed than rich boy’s ack - queso bullshit…” It’s nostalgic. Bad nostalgic but nostalgic.

He slaps the top of the machine, you and Carmen both wince as a random spigot falls off it. Chi-Chi clicks his tongue, staring at it in silence. “...Refresher would be good, though.”

You’re already walking back to your damaged darling, patting Carmen on the shoulder as a form of goodbye, he pats your hand back. You don’t get to see him smile, as he watches you get to work. “Don’t fuckin’ call me Jack-Off and don’t touch her, I’ll show you, I’ll break your hand Cheech, I swear—”

The man in question shrugs, a devilish and terrible smirk on his stupid face. “Ey, love a woman in charge. Show me the ways.”

Even on your most off days, working with The Beef will always be second nature for you. Even when the space is significantly more cramped than it used to be.

You rewrite directions on how to use the coffee machine while showing them to Ebra and Chi-Chi. Ebra tends not to learn new tricks, so he stops listening by the time you get to syrups. That’s fine. No one ordered syrups in their coffee at The Beef back in the day all that often either.

Mikey really shouldn’t have invested in all those syrups back then. He really only did it for you and the staff. To be fair, when he did convince regulars to try your coffee they always changed their tune. The people don’t know what they like yet. They will like this. You were his proof that that idea was true.

“You gotta toss these, Boss. Slows you down.” You overhear Cheech saying behind you. You turn to see his arm on Ebra’s shoulder, holding the small blue baskets for sandwiches in his other hand. “Just the wrapping is fine. These people are gonna throw this shit out anyways, waste of plastic.”

Cheech turns his head to you, “Right, Handy?”

“...Don’t call me Handy.” Don’t freak out about throwing the old stuff away. Don’t freak out about throwing his old stuff away. You shrug, looking at Ebra over your shoulder. “Maybe just offer them, if they ask for one?”

“Y’know what the people are asking for, babe?” Cheech sucks his teeth, pulling Ebra closer, who looks nonplussed. “They’re asking where the nearest brick is to throw through our window. This rich people shit is getting on their nerves.”

You sigh, eyes flitting to Ebra for confirmation. “Yeah?”

He shrugs, nodding. “Ninety-eight percent, Jack-Off.” Cheech and the gang have been a terrible influence. How are you going to undo this?

“C’mon, E…” You scoff, but nod as you turn around, arms crossed. Gesturing with the frother as you do. “Well, I’ll make note of that. Now back to the fuckin’ hand frother, Cheech?”

“I know how to crank it, Handy—” “I swear to fucking God—”

“Ey!” Tina comes up to your corner, smacking the back of Chi-Chi’s head with a hand towel when she does. “Don’t talk to the baby like that, clean your mouth.”

He puts one hand on the back of his head, hissing, and another up in front of him, in defense. “Ey, T, it’s all love, aright? Playing!”

“Yeah well, you’re not gonna wanna play wit’ this one. ‘Specially not now—” She nudges you, smiling that coy ‘I’m about to blow up your spot’ smile.

You grimace, attempting to interrupt her. “T, don’t—” “That she’s Jeff’s.” “—Goddamnit.”

“Oh! Oh shit!” Cheech laughs, delightfully shocked. “You finally closed on Charmin’? Congrats—” It’s a blessing and a curse that Carmen, the guy you only ever saw in photos and heard in stories that you had a very minor and not vocal crush on, is now your… boyfriend? Undetermined.

You wave a hand in his face, “Shut the fuck up—”

“So where should I send flowers?”

You hate this family. “For the record, I have not closed shit.”

“What’s closing?” Tina takes a half step back, surveying your face, it doesn’t reveal anything. “What’s that? Gramps?” She turns her question on Ebra, who shrugs, equally as old and unknowing.

“Well Jack-Off’s a little Mother Mary for my taste—”

You scoff, “So not true, for the record—” but Chi-Chi continues his tirade. “So I suspect she just means they haven't had the ‘are we datey-wating carmy baby?’ talk.”

You all but growl, crossing your arms as you wait for the second tutorial coffee to finish dispensing from the beloved whirring machine behind you. You can get the fuck out of here as soon as it’s done, and you’re praying that’s soon, because this interrogation is about to turn terrible. “We are currently unlabelled, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

Tina kisses her teeth, poking at your shoulder. “Richie told me you spent the whole wedding together and you come back with no label?”

You sigh, composure falling apart. You are not ready for a mother’s disappointment. “We talked out a lot of important stuff—” “Mija, that is important stuff!”

“I just— We’ll talk eventually—”

Chi-Chi conveniently interrupts you when it looks like Tina’s about to go off into a full rant on the downfall of romance in modern relationships. “So you’re still on the market, Handy?”

“For you?” You smile, then drop it. Pushing your hand against his forehead. “Never. Now froth the fucking milk.”

He mumbles an endless series of expletives, but gets to work. You give him a quick tutorial on the hand frother— You fought hard for the old machine, but you are overjoyed to see an automated steamer and frother on that Ascaso. That part is gonna be a dream. You can make so many new drinks for Carm— The menu.

When you finish, you take the latte from Cheech to hand to Tina; and when you do, you catch her looking… off. She’s staring at the piled up diner baskets, next to the unused napkin dispensers.

You put your hand on her shoulder, massaging it lightly. “You good, T?”

Your hand shocks her back into reality, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, baby.” It takes her a second to remember where she is. She takes the latte, nodding. “I’m good. You good?”

“I’ve got my complaints.” You shrug. “But nothing I won’t survive.” Probably.

Tina takes a sip of her coffee, continuing to nod. She wants to dig deeper into your thing, you want to dig deeper into hers, but the painful groaning from the front of the kitchen, “And when did I fuckin’ greenlight this?” interrupts both your trains of thought. Uncle Jimmy tends to have that effect.

With a knowing nod, you walk together to the front, leaving Ebra and Cheech to continue experimenting with the coffee machine before they open their side of the restaurant.

You watch from the sidelines as Carmen defends his choices, “The old one was shit, she was burning her hands on it. She’ll need the three groups to keep up.” and you’re able to quickly glean they’re talking about the new espresso machine.

“Okay, I hear that,” Jimmy nods, “but why the fuck did it need to be ten grand?”

“Ten?!” You can’t help but shout, you slap your hand over your mouth. Budget is none of your business. But fucking ten? You part your fingers to mumble through your hand, “Sorry, continue.”

Carmen cares too much about your drink menu. Berzattos tend to invest too much into your special interests. Though this time, instead of syrups, and in addition to a 10k coffee machine, you see on the stainless steel table your shared sketches laid out alongside all the ingredients needed– Including the concentrates, whips, and other compounds Carmen made ahead of time for you. He’s so sweet. God, you love him. God, that’s disgusting. They have all, of course, been haphazardly shoved aside though, to make room for The Computer’s— Computer. Carmy’s nonplussed by that fact, it seems.

Jimmy gestures to you, deadpanning to Carm. “See, Chip understands the power of the dollar.”

“I’m not involved.” You add, waving your hand, it’s a terrible moment for your favouritism to shine through. Though you do enter the radius of this trainwreck of a quarterly review, kneeling down by the kitchen island to finish what you started with the plexiglass and hinges. “Ignore me, continue.”

The men stand on either side of you, as you bolt down the hinges. Carmen brushes off the dollar comment with a simple, “It’s the best.”

Why do you need the best? You think; Jimmy concurs with your brain, speaking for both of you. “Why do you need the best?”

The question seems to make no sense to Carmen. He freezes, blue-screening. “Cause—”

You duck your head under the counter at just the right moment— Or just the wrong moment? Because you don’t get to see Carmen looking down at you, then back up at his uncle. “Because.”

You don’t see Uncle Jimmy practically roll not just his eyes but his entire body back into himself, witnessing the puppy love that is going to ruin his credit score. “Chip…”

When you slide yourself out from under the counter, Carmen puts his hand on the edge of the counter to make sure you don’t hit your head— Because you have an awful tendency to do so. You’re too focused on the way Uncle Jimmy says your name like you’re in trouble to notice though. “What’d I do?”

“You’re you.” Jimmy grimaces, shaking his head. It’s not your fault. Not completely. “F-Y-I– Your boss just cut your bar budget by ten grand.”

“Hm.” You squint, lips in a line. “And what do I do if the budget I was planning was just ten grand?”

“Well respect yourself more than that.” Cicero scoffs, arms crossed. “Take twenty, now you’re back to ten. You’re welcome.”

“Generosity knows no bounds.” You shake your head, laughing him off as you duck your head back under the counter. “Thank you, Unc.”

“Sorry, who exactly are we giving twenty thousand?”

“Oh fuck—” Despite Carmen’s best efforts, you still manage to bump your head on the roof of the counter, alarmed by the new voice— The Computer, you assume. “Fuckin—Ow— Sorry! Y’know what, hol’ on, let me just finish up here—”

“It’s the drink budget. Tony’s the new mixologist.” Natalie answers for you. “And sommelier.”

“Ah,” hums The Computer. “She’s the one we’re paying Quarter-Master for?”

“Nah, that’s me.” Gary strolls by, calling out to wherever his manager has gone, “Richie, you find that book yet?!”

“I’m taking them too!” You finally pop your head out from underneath the counter, finished bolting in the hinges. “Apparently I need actual W-S-E-T certification and a bunch of memorized google searches, youtube videos, and wine review blogs do not legally make you a sommelier.”

“I think it’s impressive you made it this far on basically nothing.” Syd taps the top of your head, she’s the one who made the call on schooling. She looks to her co-owner. “Classes are coming out of the advanced.”

“So is this.” You tap the plexiglass, nodding up to Carmen as well. “You’re workin’ with like… A thousand left for pre-paid work?”

“Hm.” Carmen nods, looking at The Computer, and you turn your head to him too. “Did you account for that?”

“Did I account for a thousand dollars?”

Carmen shakes his head like a white flag immediately, hearing the sarcastic tone, “Alright, you don’t—”

“A thousand dollars does not take you out of the hole, man.” He’s right, but you don’t love the tone. He tilts his head, reading something off his screen. “Payroll is a little high, for a somme.”

“I don’t disagree—” You try to say, because yeah, your contract does have a weirdly high salary.

But Jimmy, Nat, and Carm all speak over you. “It’s not.”

“That’s not pay for a somme, that’s a pay for Chip, you don’t need to enhance on that.” Jimmy deads the topic then and there. “You’ll see. Just trust me. You were sayin’ somethin about tiny plants?”

“Microgreens.” Says Syd.

“Yes. Do less of that.”

And you just watch, from the sidelines, as this crew flows into a bit of a repetitive we’re doing this, which gains the response, well stop. Do less, charge more, figure it out, duh, don’t duh– What’s that you’re hearing about a daily changing menu? Carmen seems to be the only one campaigning for it. At a point he just starts pacing, pointing at numbers on The Computer’s screen that he doesn’t understand but pretends he does.

You’ve got a million ideas, but it’s none of your business. It very literally isn’t your business, until Jimmy turns his head just so, grimacing at the non stop debate, to see you standing aside, arms crossed.

He sighs, beckoning you to the table, like it’s a witness stand. “What’s that fuckin’ face on your face, kid?” Oh, for the love of God, why are you so easy to read?

You pfft, shrugging. “I’m not makin’ a face—!” But you come forward nonetheless as he boldly speaks over you.

“You’re makin’ a face,” — “This is just what I look like,” — “Y’know how I know you’re makin’ a face?” — “Enlighten me.” — “Cause it’s the same fuckin’ face—”

He takes this moment to point at the face on your face. “That your dad makes.” A man that gambles as well as Cicero is a man that knows your dad’s tells. And a man that knows your dad’s tells is a man that knows your tells.

You bite down on your inner cheek, poorly pretending to be confused, shrugging again, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come off it.” “I’m not on anything, Unc—” “You’ve got a problem, say it.”

“I don’t have a problem!” You have a lot of problems, but they can’t know that. That makes you judgy and pushy— You don’t know enough about the business to have an opinion. “I’m just observing, that’s all.”

Uncle looks up, to Heaven, to Mikey, and sighs the world’s heaviest sigh. It sounds painful. When he finally tilts his head back down to you, it’s to say, “C-K.”

“Cicero.”

“Y’know why I’m able to pour mas queso into this fuckin’ kid?” He loosely gestures in the direction of Carmen, who in response seems to bite down a lot of venom. It’s bad to think he’s pretty when he’s annoyed, isn’t it?

You tilt your head, “Honestly, I always assumed some sort of mob association.”

Jimmy holds back his laughter, it comes out as a disgruntled cough. He shrugs. “It’s because when I saw your dad at the table, makin’” —He gestures to you— “That fuckin’ face, I knew to pull back.”

“You don’t need to pull back.” Your reply is a touch too panicked and instant for anyone’s liking, makes it a little less believable. But Cicero smirks, and you know that face as well as he knows yours. Check. He’s got you.

“Then speak on it.” And he pushes you forward, just slightly, like a slap of support on your back. You grimace, looking to Carm and Syd for permission to have opinions, and they both nod, like it’s obvious. With great hesitation, lips pressed together, you finally allow yourself to come off as judgy, opinionated, a fixer.

“I think the chargers are kinda stupid.”

A plate no one eats off of, that they still have to clean, that’s on top of another plate? Definitely super necessary. Definitely not some rich people NOMA bullshit.

You look to Syd, apologetic. She shrugs, open mouthed, head tilted, “I– I mean, I didn’t invent them.”

“It’s presentation.” Carmen nods, to himself. He doesn’t like to budge. “That first look at the table affects everything.”

“Yes.” You nod, directly across the counter from him. “I agree, I just think the plates are stupid.”

“You got somethin’ better?”

“Think so.” You hum, tilting your body back to yell to the back of the restaurant. “Ay, Cheech! Pass me a fuckin’ basket!”

It’s without hesitation that you hear, “Hut!” before even seeing the man. You see the blue basket being hurled towards you before you see the man. You catch it, albeit a bit clumsy, but you catch it.

You toss the basket on the table. Everyone stares. You defend yourself before anyone even criticizes it, “Easier to clean than plates, because you just need to rinse the plastic. Ties together a colour scheme, costs nothing, they’re gonna be tossed anyways.”

“It looks cheap.” Carmen tuts, but he really does seem to be trying to hear out the idea, despite his reservations.

“It looks purposeful.” You double down, leaning on the counter just so, “It carries a story, that we didn’t forget where we started.”

“Ooh.” Marcus, clocking in just in time, hums behind you. “Kind of a bar, Chef.”

“Thank you, Chef. Morning, Chef.” You fist bump him over your shoulder, not looking. Too focused on convincing the man before you, you let him think in silence for some time before asking. “Think on it?”

“No.” Carmen shakes his head, and you’re a little crestfallen, for a second. “It’s good. Let’s do the baskets, yeah—” He then remembers to ask for permission, he turns his head to Syd, “Yeah?”

“Yeah? Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah. Baskets are good.” Syd nods to Nat. “Can you look into, uh—”

“Returning the expensive as fuck earthenware shit? Happily.” Nat is far too cheery upon receiving a paperwork rabbit hole of a mission. She brushes past you, excitedly whispering, “Please keep going.”

“Oh, uh—” Are you some sort of thought leader now? “Well, uhm, I think I heard you sayin’” —You snap your fingers at The Computer, “That R and D cost is a little high?”

“A lot high.” He corrects.

“Kid with crayons.” Jimmy tuts, “Need to pull back a little.”

Carmen’s screwing and unscrewing the cap of a mason jar— Marmalade, it’s for Syd’s drink. He made it this morning, it’s labelled down to the minute. Just let him work on his fucking drinks menu, please God. He’s been dying for this moment and it’s being thrown off by this bullshit.

He can’t keep biting his tongue, “Hey, uh, why don’t you just tell us to do everything a little bit less so we can skip this and get back to work, huh?”

You hear Uncle Jimmy inhale as preparation to verbally beat Carmen’s ass. You put one hand up in front of the old man’s face, the other hand grabs a dry-erase marker. “He didn’t mean it like that and he apologizes, Unc.”

“Does he now?”

“He does.” You drop your hand, focusing on lifting the glass panel, clicking the locks in place to keep it up. You nod to Carmen through the pane. “Right, Carmy?”

Poor Carmen nearly deflates, “...I’m tryna be the guy.”

“Not what the guy does, baby boy.” You hum, uncapping the marker with your teeth. You turn your head to Cicero. “Guy had a lapse, he forgot you were his boss and just thought of you as family, so he spoke to you like family, cause he loves you, Unc.”

Cicero nods, tilting his head just so at Carmen. “S’that right?”

Carm manages to shake his head and nod all at the same time, “S’a facet.”

“....Well, just don’t do it again.” A crisis is averted and an uncle is softened.

“I love to see a family come together.” You hum, nonchalant, writing on the glass, ‘R & D - Cost: Bad’

“Bring it from bad to good.” The Computer notes very helpfully. “You can cut—”

“Hol’ on.” You put your index finger up, effectively shushing him, “Just think about it first. We don’t have to go straight to cutting. Let’s look at our options.”

“Your options are fucked.”

“Just—” You tut, rubbing the bridge of your nose, man, you really are becoming your dad right now. Loosen your grip, Jack. “Widen the scope. We cut costs through returning those chargers— How else can we ‘return’ shit? Carmy?”

Thank God you’re the guy, because Carm can’t hack it. “Heard? Yes?” And frankly, he doesn’t want to.

“What’s the main cost on R and D?”

“Supplies. Food— Y’know, lot of trial and error.” He nods to a bus tub filled with failed attempts over this morning’s session. But you like that, right? “Trying new things, y’know?”

“...Carmen.” He doesn’t answer, because he can hear he’s in trouble. He is staring at you stare at the tub in what seems like a sort of contemplative, serene, searing anger. “Sweetheart, are those four wagyu filets in a fuckin’ bus tub?”

“Yes, it’s got a blood orange reduction, but– But Syd suggested mint—”

You don’t let him finish, “Is it poison?”

“It’s not.” “It’s edible?” “It is.” “Okay, so then, babydoll, why is it not being eaten?”

Syd winces from the sidelines, hissing under her breath, fist over her mouth. Carmen cannot help but notice. You’re perhaps… a dash upset.

“We can’t eat everything.” “Did you offer it to the crew?” “Yeah—” “You offered it to Nat, Unc, Cheech— All the servers? Or did you just offer it to the cooks?” “...Heard.” “Did you take a bite of all of these?” “Not all.”

You start writing on the glass again, explaining as you do, “Okay. So then uneaten food from R and D should be sold on one of those fuckin’ food waste apps— Too Good to Go, or somethin’. We advertise it to The Beef regulars, try to get the other side of our city to understand the finer things, prevent any brick through window incidents, how we feel ‘bout that?”

You remember small things far too well. You did make note of the rich people shit getting on The Beef customers' nerves. You make note of the people who live on your block, who cannot afford to eat here. You make note of the fact that Carmen resents subtracting with a passion now, so you find another way. He can still try new things, just needs to handle the results better.

“...You keep a binder or somethin?” Is all Carmen can think to ask.

“Steel trap memory.” You tap the cap of the marker to your head, “Good though?”

He nods, “Good.”

“Good.” You take a breath, dragging a hand down your face, practically coming out of a fugue state. Carmen knows your need to have something to do, just as much as him, so he slides the jar of fig marmalade to you from across the table. You take it happily, unscrewing the lid. You’ve also been dying to get to this menu.

But Richie comes up from behind, scratch and sniff wine book in hand— Didn’t Mikey get you that? It was meant to be a gag gift but it’s actually quite useful. “Chip, can you also tell Chef Carmen the daily menu fuckin’ sucks?”

“Re-lax.” You sigh, pulling over all the ingredients and tools you need for Syd’s drink. “Syd told me ‘bout this though, daily pre fixe, or whatever it’s called?”

“It’s—” Carmen crosses his arms over himself, immediately defensive but trying his best not to be. “It’s an idea I’m floating, for now— It’s what the best restaurants do, and— And even if we don’t have full intent on getting a star, right now, it’s still important.”

“I just think…” You hum, trying to figure out the most delicate way to say it. “It doesn’t exactly give you the most room to collaborate or create—”

“The whole point of it is to collaborate and create—”

“Oh yes,” —As if waiting in the wings for this, Richie pops out behind you again, “What wasssit? ‘Vibrant Collaboration’ and ‘Constantly Evolve Through Eating My Own Head like a fucking ouroboros’.”

“Relax.” You hiss this time, putting a hand up in front of Richie. You can speak for yourself. “You don’t have time to be creative or collaborate when you’ve gotta make decisions in less than twelve hours.”

Carmen tries to defend, he gestures to the one good plate of wagyu with mint that came out of this morning, “But the—”

You nod and hum, knowingly. The sweet sound stops him. You already know the answer, but you ask anyway, as you scoop fig marmalade into your cocktail shaker. “Did you get to try the pop rocks thing yet?”

“Well, no, it’s not viable to perfect that in such—”

“A short amount of time, angel?”

“Oooh…” Richie mimics Syd’s movements, air whistling between his teeth as he takes a sharp breath. He gestures, standing behind you, staring at Carmen as he slides his thumb across his neck. He mouths, ‘Mad mad.’

Carmen’s two closest friends are freaking him the fuck out and one of them wasn’t even doing it on purpose. How do they know that? How can they tell that? Are you gonna break up with him? Are you even dating? This work together thing was a terrible idea—

“You don’t have time to be thoughtful about things, if you do an entire menu every day, you’re gonna have to cut corners on what you’re willing to experiment with.” You reword, more productive, better for his brain. “Plus, prix fixe is a fuckin— In—In my opinion, is sort of a lacking idea, maybe, for a new restaurant.”

Carmen’s willing to give up the daily rotation, he’s not so willing to give up the pre fixe. “It’s what the best restaurants do.” Carmen loves the word best, huh?

“Have those restaurants—” You bite your tongue from what was going to be an immediate catty response.

You try again, measuring out orange liqueur and lemon juice as you do so. “You’re thinking like a Chef and you need to think like a customer— A- A guest, for a second.”

Carmen gives you the floor, mostly because he cannot compute the command. You continue, “Let’s do a little roleplay, alright? Let’s say we’re just average people, not workin’ at The Bear, and we’re goin’ on a date.”

“When?” “...When?” “When is the date?” “No, I’m— It’s— This is hypothetical.” “Yeah but in the hypothetical.”

You shrug, clicking tongs together as you grab large chunks of ice for your shaker. “I dunno, Friday nights? We have like a Friday night date night.”

“Oh, so you’re doing good.” Richie hums, proud of this hypothetical you, “Weekly date night is a cornerstone.”

“Moving on.” You elbow Rich behind you, shaker sloshing in hand, “I’m not a foodie, you are— In this hypothetical. You’re looking around at restaurants in the area for the date, you find The Bear— You find through their website with an improper hyperlink that the menu is,” —You list off on your free hand— “prix fixe, unavailable online, and changes daily so you can’t go off of reviews either. Also, it’s a new place, so you can’t really ask around for opinions.”

“Right.” Carmen nods, as does Syd. Uncle Jimmy’s got that stupid smirk he gets when he sees his kids fall in line. You pour the ouzo over the ice, focus on the drink, not Carm’s mopey expression.

“So, we probably wouldn’t go, right?”

Carmen keeps nodding, eyes downcast— Not upset, just can’t take feedback without keeping his head down. “Prob’ly not, yeah.”

You pound the shaker shut, shaking it lightly in one hand as you try as hard as you can to sweetly explain. “People are open to like, two surprises on an outing. New place, new food— But they will need a set menu and they will need to have it available beforehand— And they’ll need to be able to choose.”

He looks like a cat in the rain, so you add, “But. Maybe we can do a daily special? Or weekly, depending on burnout, but like, y’know, a semi-frequent one new thing. And maybe on like, Valentines or some holidays we do a fresh prix fixe. That’s how some of the best places do it.”

Carmen’s eyes upturn, smiling with them, at that last part. “You do keep a binder.”

“Syd does. I just pay attention.” You shake your head. “She mumbled about it all night when we got back.”

Adamu is immediately aghast, she should’ve realized ages ago, you were practically quoting her. “You said you couldn’t hear me!”

“No, I said you weren’t bothering me, and you weren’t.” You can’t hide your smile as you break the seal on the shaker. Syd sucks at sharing her ideas, but you’re happy to act as a good mouth for her good brain. “Hand me a lowball.”

With a grumble, Syd walks off in search of the lowball; while everyone does seem to agree this is best practice, Carmen does still seem a little sore about it.

“It’d probably also serve us well to do a seasonally rotating menu, right?” And so you throw him a bone. “Like Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall? Base it on what’s in season with local vendors?”

“What grows together goes together.” Tina says, nearly sing-songy. “Farmer’s market is rough though, Jeff.”

“Fuck a farmer’s market— With love, fuck a farmer’s market.” Back to writing on plexiglass you go. “We gotta do vendors, maybe f’ like, eggs and dairy we can do farmer’s market, but it’s just not feasible. Maybe for holiday pre fixe or daily specials? But full stock, it’s just not— It’s not it. And I say that while having farm fresh eggs and local honey in my pantry, alright?”

Carmen agrees, like a bobble-head this guy. He nods to Tina. “That cool with you, T?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool with me.” Tina is a millisecond off to pipe in, which is really not noticeable– To anyone but you, that is.

“Why’s— Why would T not be good with that?”

“She’s in charge of farmer’s market.”

“Hm.” You bite the end of the dry-erase marker. “T, would you be cool with rotating that, now and again?”

“Ooh?” She tilts her head, shrugging, “Yeah, yeah, kid. If you wanna take the reins.”

“Not me.” You return to scribbling on the glass board. You point at Carmen and Syd through the glass. “Them.”

“I’ve paid my sous chef dues.” Says Syd, returning to the table with your glass. You tut, shaking your head. You refocus your vision from your writing to beyond the plexiglass, at them.

“You need it for inspiration! You fuckers keep forgetting you like cooking, I need you to visit the farmer’s market once in a while to remind you.” You take the lowball glass and tong a few ice cubes in. “Non-negotiable. Heard?”

A soft, simultaneous, “Heard, Chef.” from your cats.

“Good.” You strain the mixed concoction out of the shaker, into the lowball glass. It’s a very pretty peachy pink. You tweezer a slice of dried fig and place it on top. You grab a toothpick, stick it down the glass, pull it out, and taste the toothpick. Balanced, solid flavour, should be good.

You slide the drink over to Syd. “I can’t drink everything obviously, so first dibs goes to whoever the drink is based on— I don’t care who drinks it, just let me know if it goes down smooth.”

You also in turn hand Syd the recipe card and sketch, and you’re quick to move on as she reviews and sips away.

Ouzo. Dry anise tasting spirit. It’s got a licorice aftertaste, but oddly sweeter for it. It’s strong. Resilient. It’s made from remnants of unfermented wine grapes and a mix of other distilled and unused spirits. Better than the sum of its parts. It goes well with figs. Muddle it together with fig marmalade— Sweet yet earthy, spring-like. Orange liqueur to marry the flavours, lemon juice to brighten. Shaken, pour over ice into a lowball, serve with a dried fig on top.

Syd manages to reserve her reaction to a slow but repetitive nod, like entering deep space. She only comes back to reality when Richie reaches for the drink, wanting to try. She’s quick to pull it away from him, coveting the glass.

“Ah… what else? Rapid fire.” You knock your head around, remembering what The Computer talked about, and in quick succession, you line up every problem and talk through them, possibly solve them— As best as a newbie can. At the very least, you open the floor to actual discussions as you make drinks all the while.

“Opening a full sixth day I think will shoot us in the long run, especially if we ever get a kitchen plague going. Maybe we just open for half the day on Mondays going forward, try out breakfast? Stop booing me, I’m right.”

Richie’s. Also served over ice in a lowball. It’s similar to a whiskey smash. Nixing the mint. Whiskey bourbon— A good one, but not too good that it’s a sin to mix. Something with a cinnamon spice, that's warm all the way down, but never burns. Water it down a bit by stirring peach juice over the whiskey with ice for a brief moment. Float blueberry syrup on top. Add a toothpick, spearing two blueberries and one peach halve, balance it over the glass, for stirring. So the drinker can mix the blueberry syrup in and have a cute colour changing experience.

“Wine pours, me and Gary got that. We can also just start charging by the bottle by default— Whatever works.”

Marcus’. Simple but effective. A rum and coke ice cream float. Made complex by the fact that the ice cream is on a rotating schedule, based on whatever Chef Brooks is feeling that night and what’s in stock. Right now? Pistachio. So tonight it’s actually rum and seltzer, and it will probably continue to be rum and seltzer, based on the way Marcus’ eyes light up by the opportunity to get weird. More often than not, you’re going to need that neutral base. Served in a milkshake glass, because what else?

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t just grow these microgreens myself in house. They’re just plants you murder early, are they not? Am I missing something?”

Tina’s. Varied take on a spiked agua fresca. Fresh blended mango agua fresca— With ginger, of course. A healthy kick is a necessity for a mom drink. Sweetened with simple syrup, spiked with white rum, dash of agave bitters, top with coconut water. Served in a tall glass, because why would you skimp on portions?

“Why are we shipping flowers from New York? No, fuck that, go to Violet’s Violets— I fixed her cooler once, she falls in love and gives a discount to literally anyone who’s nice to her. Just send Marcus with some dessert and you’ll be set for life.”

And of course, Carmen’s aperol spritz. You go with the cherry syrup rim for now because it’s important to try. You’re almost certain it’s too much though.

“Napkins…” You rub your icy cold hands— From shaking up so many goddamn drinks— Over your eyes. “Why are we renting?”

“Buying is insanely overpriced.” Answers Computer.

You nod, shrug, but nod, fingers tapping the glass, “Well, it’s like renting over owning right? It might be better to own because, y’know, you might suddenly get told by your napkin vendor, like, like years down the line, after basically paying for these napkins in full through rent, ‘hey, actually, we’re gonna jack up prices or just take those napkins back’ even though you’ve —again— Literally had them for years—”

“Chippy, are you good?” Richie tries to massage your shoulder, tries to break you out of the doom spiral, but admittedly, it was never his forte. Still isn’t.

“We—!” Your voice hangs and is grating in a way it usually isn’t, ignoring the question. “We can produce our own napkins if we buy linens by the yard and hem ‘em ourselves. We—” You snap your fingers a couple times at Carmen, praying he backs you up. “We can even get The Bear monogrammed on them.”

“That sounds nice…” It’s Carmen’s turn to ease you off the ledge of insanity, gently. “It also sounds expensive, were you gonna do that?”

“Fuck no.” You’re quick to shake your head. “I fucking suck at sewing, my own jumpsuit is covered in my blood— No, my—” Oh. “Hold on.”

Your hand immediately goes for your back pocket, quickly pulling your cell-phone out, and dial one of your first starred contacts. Richie, over your shoulder still, sipping his blueberry and bourbon cocktail, excitedly mumbles. “Oh, put it on speaker.”

You’re annoyed before he’s even answered, knowing the headache you’re about to get. “Trust me, the first thirty seconds minimum will not need—”

“Hey!” It’s impossible to convey how earth shatteringly loud and drawn out his voice is, immediately upon answering. There may be eight seconds of the sustained vowel? Maybe more. Almost everyone flinches, par for Syd, Carm, and Rich. Though for all different reasons.

A touch grating, in the same way your voice just was. Like father, like occasional daughter, you suppose. “Hey kiddo baby darling sweetheart angel princess—” Oh, he’s mad. The whole ‘slew of nicknames when you’re pissed off’ thing? Yeah, that didn’t start with you. “Did someone die? Because that’s the only reason my darling baby only daughter calls anymore!”

You sigh, immediately exhausted, putting your weight on one leg. “Y’know, once a month is honestly a lot of times a year for a fully grown woman to call their dad, on average. I absolutely call you more than my friends call their dads.”

Richie almost chokes and whispers over your shoulder, hesitant, internally preparing for a dreadful future. “Please tell me that’s not true.”

“Oh, and you should be so lucky that you have a dad to call! Cause I bet those friends are calling funeral homes, aren’t they?!”

“Dad—”

“I should have never taught you independence. Worst mistake of my life to teach you how to be your own person. Richard, never teach your kid how to use a screwdriver, it will be the last day you are a father.”

“Noted, Big C-K.” Richie goes for your dry erase to actually write it down, you pull it away from him. That’s gonna require a long talk down later.

Carmen mouths to you, across the table, he meant to ask earlier when Cicero said it but there wasn’t time. ‘C-K?’

You mouth back, gesturing to the logo on your very own flannel ‘Chicago’s Kindest.’ He’s not the best with acronyms.

“Oh— And thank you for bringing that up! And what’s this I hear about you cutting your hours with C-K? I hear this from Tony of all people ‘fore I hear it from you?”

“I got a long-term bartender gig that’s actually gonna keep my bills paid, alright? And I like it. Putting that mixology double trade major to good use. Cicero’s got stock in the place, actually.”

“How you doin’ C-K?” Cicero pipes in next to you, waiting for his moment.

“Ah… I’ve got my complaints. For one, my Jack keeps you more company than me!”

There’s a series of hums and haws, that weird uncle secret language of heavy exhales that manage to say more than any actual words they could say.

You let the heaving run its course for ten seconds before cutting it short with, “Anyways, I’m still gonna keep the business running, just only in the mornings. It’s not like I brought in that much business anyway, I’m not pulling a foundation.”

“Everytime a small business dies, a rich man laughs, Jack!”

“It’s not dying! It’s alive! It’s present and alive!” Don’t get flashbacks. “Anyways, speaking of small businesses, I need a favour—”

“Ooh, the truth comes out, princess calls cause she needs bail—”

“For the love of God, let me get through a sentence, Pops!” You grumble, continuing. “Remember that overpriced monogram machine you bought for no reason?”

“It was not for no reason, it was invaluable because it saved my mitts from hand embroidering all those logos— And and— you have to remember—” You mouth the words along with him, mimicking him, because you know exactly what he’s going to say, “that it all starts in your community— And now you have like eight beautiful outfits, cause of me… And also it’s fun.”

“Well… If it’s fun, would you consider making some linen napkins?”

And it flows like ping pong, because your dad is a repairman— Well, former, but still. He’s simple. He handles negotiations simple. So do you.

“For who?” “Restaurant. The Bear.” “Why?” “Cause they need linen napkins.” “How many?”

You look over your shoulder to Richie, he does the math in his head pretty quickly, “Bout seventy to a hundred covers a night.”

“Six hundred.” “Pay?” “We’ll pay supplies, and I’ll give you like—” You look to Syd, expectantly. She has no answer, so you put your advanced on the line. “A thousand?”

“A thousand!? Less than a dollar a napkin! Is this pre-housing crisis?!” “I work here, okay?! Discount me!” “My God, princess, are you in love with the owner or something?”

That world feels like it's choking, but that's probably just you. You blow hot air out of your mouth, looking anywhere but Carmen. Refusing to see him even in your periphery. Refusing to see his blue screened but ever so slightly expectant expression. Well? Are you? …Or something?

After a long moment, you find a way to avoid the question. “Ah–Uh, Syd co-owns the place.”

“Oh, Adamu?!”

Syd pipes in, leaning over the table. You hold the phone out for her. “H–Hey, Mr. CK.” She waves, despite the fact that it’s a phone call.

“Hey kiddo. Aw, what a sweetheart. Lead with her next time!”

“Alright!” You bring the phone back to your face— It’s remained off speakerphone this entire time, but he continues to yell loud enough for the table. “I didn’t realize you were best friends.”

“Of course we are. Y’know she brought me this uh– this salmon mushroom risotto the other night? Unbelievable.”

You squint at Adamu curiously, whispering. “You bring my dad food?”

She whispers in return, defensive. “He lives on my block, don’t be weird.”

“For her, I’ll do it for eight-hundred, okay kiddo? I know how tough it is to start up a business, can’t imagine trying to move on top of that.”

Your turn to blue screen. Moving? You’re immediately over the love thing. “...Pardon?”

“...I’ll do it for eight—”

“No– Yes, sorry, yes dad that’s great—” You arch the phone away from your face, focusing your attention on Syd. “Syd, you’re moving out?”

She sighs, “Trying to.”

“Pops.” You straighten up, not looking away from her. “I’ll call you back to sort details later, okay?”

“Sure. You also need to let me know holiday plans, are we going up to Oak Park or—”

Somewhat disrespectfully, you speak hurriedly, “Yeah, we’ll figure it out, love you, bye!” and hang up. Still locked on Syd, you ask. “When you tryna move?”

“Like, soon as possible.” She stretches out her shoulders. “My own dad is sort of… Encroaching on my space.”

“Right.” Your eyes flicker with too many ideas, and you’re trying to temper expectations. “You wanna live by yourself?”

“I mean, I don’t really know anyone on the same timeline as me, with the same ‘low budget’ as me.”

The Computer attempts to interrupt the interruption of his review, holding a finger up, “And why are we talking about—”

But you hold the palm of your hand up, continuing on, “I need to move out asap and have a ‘low budget’.”

That’s Carmen’s queue to chime in, he loves your place. “What happened?”

Also Richie’s, “What? Chip, your spot’s like a historical site, ya can’t move.” and this is generally agreed upon by a sea of dismayed voices.

“To make an extremely long story short, I don’t have a choice.” You wave your hand in the air, silencing murmurs. “My sweet old lady landlord— The only landlord I’ve ever respected, got bought out by a fuckin’ big business gentrification ass company— I’m not in a rent controlled zone so they’re gonna keep jacking the rent until I move out so they can tear it down and build a new spot— They also may or may not have found out that me and Loretta— My landlord— Haven’t exactly been keeping up to date on my lease.”

“Meaning?” Carmen knows the answer will be bad.

But it’s somehow worse. “Meaning I pay my rent on time in cash and she texts me once a year saying ‘do you want to keep living here?’ and I say ‘yes’, and we continue on.”

“Well, hold up—” Richie holds a hand up, like he’s a genius. “Squatter’s rights?”

“I thought about going that avenue, but—” You gesture to Syd. “If you’re already moving, and looking for a roommate?”

She looks up and around, thinking about it. You decide to join her in the brainstorm, scooching yourself just an inch to the right, writing on free space on the plexiglass screen, ‘pros and cons’

“Pro.” You murmur as you write. “I have a better credit score than you.”

Syd sputters, half sarcastic. “Well, that’s just uncalled for.”

“It’ll give you more options for places! Better ones! Ones with in-unit laundry!” You defend.

“In-unit laundry…” “Your eyes just lit up in such a sad way.” “Con. You are an ass.”

“That’s a pro. A real con would be that I have a lot of plants and if I ever go on vacation I’m gonna need you to take care of them, and I’m not gonna have a binder for you, because I water them based on vibes, and if I come back and they’re dying I’m gonna be pissed off and very passive aggressive about it.”

“Violently honest.” “Pro. Mostly direct. Aside from when I’m not.” “Con. I’m not direct.”

“Con. That’s fine but if I get the idea that you’re mad at me I’m gonna act really weird about it until you reassure me that everything is okay and you don’t want to throw me out the window.”

“Yeah. Con. Same.”

“Pro. I’ve lived by myself for a while, which is good to have when you’re moving out of your parents for the first time. Con. I’ve lived by myself for a while, and I’m very used to the lifestyle of big t-shirt no pants, I’m not giving that up.”

Now that one takes Syd a second to unpack, “But, but like, underwear though, right—?”

“No shit I wear underwear!”

“Okay! It’s important to note!”

“Don’t be weird.” Richie grumbles behind you, solidly directed at Carmen.

Who’s whole face really just scrunches up in confusion. “‘Don’t be weird’? You don’t be weird.”

“I’m not bein’ fuckin’ weird—” “Then why are you up in my shit—” “Up in your shit? Oh wow—” “Fully not what I was referencing—” “Don’t be weird, cousin!” “I literally— I did not even move— Not a single cell in my body—” “And— And you only know that ‘cause you had to lock it down, you dog—”

“I don’t remember having kids, why the fuck am I in a Kindergarden?” Uncle Jimmy interrupts.

“I’m just takin’ care of my boy, Unc.” Richie raises a hand in defense, feigning innocence. “Can’t be too careful.”

“You super can, and you super are.” You grimace, elbowing him again. “And also, not important–!”

“Actually, no, very important.” Syd of all people interrupts. “Non-negotiable, like you can’t— …Like you— …When I’m home it’s like— Don’t—” Ah.

You roll your eyes and save her before she just about breaks out in a feverish sweat. “Syd, I wasn’t planning on it. That’s like roommate rule one.”

“Syd.” Richie points to his own eyes, then to hers, ‘watching you’. “Don’t be weird.”

“What the fuck—”

“Everyone shut up, pros and cons—!” You shout, gaining the attention back. “Pros. I have a car, we work at the same place, I have all the furniture for a living room already, you'd never have to wait for a landlord to fix something ever again, and I could probably do a bunch of D-I-Y renter friendly projects, if you wanted.”

“...Oh my god, a French-door pantry.” “I think I could swing that.” “Pros. You’ll never have to cook again. I guess that’s my only pro, actually.”

“Con. I have been feeding the cat on my fire escape for like a year and if I’m moving I am going to have to adopt her, so we’re gonna have a cat. She’s cute, she has five toes on each paw. Something dactyl, it’s called.”

“What’s her name?” Squid’s not excited per se, but she’s not saying no.

You shrug. “I never named her, let’s name her together.”

“No, that’s too much pressure—” “No, you’ll do great—” “What do you mean I’ll do great—?” “Three–” “Oh like together together? No! What—?!” “Shut up, just do it, head empty, two—” “No! I’m just not gonna say any—” “Yes you will, Squid. One!”

And together, perfectly in sync, like it was planned all along, you both say on queue, “Calamari!”

“There we go.” You write ‘Calamari’ on the plexiglass. “That’s my girl— That’s our girl, actually. I’m still not sure if she’s a girl.”

You click your tongue against your teeth, knocking your head back and forth in thought as you look at the scribblings on the glass. “Non-negotiables?”

Syd leans forward on the table, chin propped up in her hands. “I need forty-five minutes of bathroom time at the beginning of the day.”

“...Do you have a fuckin’ lactose intolerance?” “It’s my me time!” “Alright! Fuckin’ fifty minutes of toilet time for Syd. Ah, I need east facing windows… and uhm…”

Syd stares at you, and alas, she can tell, “You have a big non-negotiable…”

“It’s not that big… It’s more a group thing than a roommate thing, really…” “What is it?” “I think… It would be fun… If we all started playing Dungeons and Drag—”

There’s an immediate, staggeringly loud array of groans, you’re still writing it down nonetheless, all the while defending, “I honestly think a little roleplay and math would fix you assholes! I really think it would! I’ll D-M, I’ll make it so easy— Please?”

Syd grimaces, but inevitably nods. “Y’know what, you’re never gonna get a concrete schedule for that down, and no one else is gonna agree so yes, sure from me.” Still a win.

“Okay.” You hum, capping the marker. “So… Aim to move first of February? You down?”

It takes some time, and you realize as Syd’s brain frozen, that you might be overstepping. “Sorry, that’s going too fast, you think on it—”

“...I’m down.” You make it very easy for her to say yes, by giving her the option to say no. “Yeah, let’s do it. February. I’m down.”

“I’m so happy for you two, but I’m still fuckin’ reeling— Chippy, it’s– it’s— So many memories—” Richie’s being overly dramatic on purpose, hand on your shoulder, really laying on the vocal fry in his voice; but it is true. “I mean, come on, first time I’d ever been stabbed was on your block.”

“Sorry, what?” Carmen was having fun watching his two favourite employees figure out they’d be perfect roommates. He loves to be a fly on walls around you more than he’d like to admit. Richie managed to ruin it with one line. “Stabbed on your block?”

“Yeah,” You suck the air between your teeth, trying to think of some sort of white lie, but slowly shake your head, “I— Yeah, there’s no real way for me to down play it, I was so fuckin’ scared.”

“You were tweaking!” Richie laughs, clapping his hand against your shoulder, to him it’s a charming story— You’d probably be laughing too, if Carmen didn’t seem so… unpleased, let’s say. “You fuckin’ thought I was gonna die!”

“You fucking were!” You slap Rich’s hand away. “It was so close to a cerebral artery— First and last time I’ll administer stitches in my fucking kitchen, hand to God—”

“What’s the story?” Oh, new face from Carmen you haven’t seen before, bewildered annoyance, you’d describe it as, it’s going in your bottom five. “You live in a bad neighbourhood?”

“It’s rustic—” You try, but Richie opts to speak on your behalf. “Oh, Chip lives in a terrible neighbourhood, Cousin. You’ve been there, haven’t you?”

“Yeah but it didn’t seem that bad— No— Hold on, go back, stabbed why?”

“So I heroically defended a boy from crooked—” Richie tries, but you opt to speak on his behalf. “Richie was helping me bring up groceries, we saw some highschoolers shaking a kid down, Richie tried to break it up, one of ‘em stabbed him with one of those shitty switchblade comb things.”

“You got stabbed by a kid?” Syd snorts, but immediately regrets it because she has perfectly set him up for—

“Yeah, and wouldn’t be the last time, would it?”

“Richie, c’mon…” You reach up, patting the guy’s shoulder. “It was an accident and she apologized—”

Richie just raises his eyebrows, interrupting with a simple, “Mm-mm.”

And so yours raise in tow, “...Fuck you mean ‘mm-mm’?” And your head turns to Syd, alarmed. “Syd, you apologized, right?”

Her mouth just sort of hangs, sputtering noises do come out of it, but nothing that strings a sentence together. You grow more agog, repeating again, astonished, nearly laughing from the shock, “Syd?! You apologized, right?! And told him it was an accident, right?”

Syd takes a beat, but she gets there. “I— I. Am. Sorry I stabbed you by accident, Richie.”

“Hm.” Richie crosses his arms, considering, mostly sarcastically. “Yeah, I’ll take it, I guess. Would’ve liked a card.”

“I am not getting you a card.” “I’m jus’ sayin’ I’d’ve liked one.”

Carmen’s still five steps behind, “Are you gonna be fine living there? In January?”

You choke back a laugh, because this is how men try to show they care, one must imagine. “I’ve been fine for the past handful of years living there, I think I’ll be fine for another month, sweetheart.”

“Crime is bad in January.”

“I was a first responder, and I know that’s not true.” You shake your head, shirking off laughter. “It’s actually in the summer that you see shit go down. Again, I will be fine. But you are free to visit.”

“Point of order.” The Computer finally pipes up again— Might’ve forgot he was here, if you’re honest. “What are we talking about anymore?”

“Point of order— I feel like numbers— Talking numbers is great but it’s all just like— Paper, y’know?” You unlatch the plexiglass, gently settling it back down on the table. “We should be talking more.”

Tina nearly whistles in agreement, nodding by your side. “Heavy that, Jeff.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’, like—” You snap your fingers to the rest of the crew, hand moving to and fro to point at everyone, “Did y’all know until right now that Syd was moving? …No, right? Let’s like— Fuckin’ remember to check in, like y’know, family, Chefs.”

And without calling her out, you can feel Tina’s demeanor next to you change, relaxed.

“Heard, Chef.” Is the agreement from the crew, however, The Computer nor Cicero seem convinced, so with a sigh, you put on your most authoritative voice.

“Y’know. Three Cs! Caring cuts costs!” A phrase no one has ever said, but it sounds legitimate when you put it like that. That gets them to acquiesce.

Thank God, Marcus helps you move the conversation along, “...What’s everyone doing for the holidays?” Alas for both of you, the silence is deafening. “...Or not.”

You volley back for him, “If no one has hard plans I was thinking of having a lil’ Holiday party? Nothing big. Sort of a ‘goodbye old apartment’ party? Come by after you hang out with your families or whatever?”

“Not gonna go up to Oak Park?” Rich leans one arm on your shoulder, nursing his whiskey cocktail in the other.

“Meh.” You shrug, attempting to push him off you, but he doubles down. “We’re not so intense about holidays since everyone’s aged. I’ll visit my nephew on New Years.”

“I’m doin’ Eve with Eva, but I’ll be free on the day. I’ll come by. We doin’ gifts?”

“I mean I got you something, so,” You tap the bottom of his glass as Rich takes another sip, making him flinch. “Catch the fuck up.”

Syd pipes in, sniffing. “Me and my dad only celebrate on Christmas Eve now, so I’ll come.”

“Incredible. Two down.” You gesture to Marcus and Tina across the table. “You guys? Tina I assume you’ve got a loving family and shit?”

Tina smiles and nods, rightfully proud. “I do have a loving family and shit, but maybe I’ll come by late with them too?”

And Marcus tacks on with her, “I’m gonna be with my mom most of the night, but I’ll come through for a couple hours.”

“Perfect, perfect. Invites open to any plus ones as long as you text me first!” You hum, writing names down on the glass board. It’s kind of a nightmare of different lists at this point. “Richie, can you make sure Fak and Sweeps get the invite?”

“Yessir.”

“And us!?” Shrieks Cheech in the back, who really shouldn’t be able to hear you, he should be in the zone, slinging sandwiches.

You yell back without turning to him. “Yes, fucker, you and E can come, if you want! No fuckin’ plus one for you though!”

“Oh come the fuck on, Jack-Off!”

“Oh, make me a fuckin’ sandwich, big man!”

“Oh, I’ll make you a fuckin’ sandwich!”

“Oh, my dick!” A response that makes no sense, consistently the perfect bookend. You sigh, and finally, your eyes flit to the most terrified two in the room. “Berzattos… Holiday plans?”

“I think we’re gonna do dinner on Christmas Eve, and then the morning together? Well, I am.” Sug hesitates, she’s looking between Uncle Jimmy and Carmen. “I was gonna ask what Carm’s plan is…”

“I’ll go. I’ll go.” Carmen has to stop himself from biting the skin off the tips of his fingers. “I’ll go. And I’ll come to the party, after.”

“I’ll probably just go home with Pete after. Baby’s first Christmas, y’know.” Natalie hums and nods awkwardly. There’s a question both of them want to ask. Neither of them are brave enough to ask it. And while you can sense there’s something dancing in the air, you’re not going to overstep on this front.

“Mazel. I can buy silly decor with reason now. …Now let’s talk about the important grievances.” You hum, happy to end that chapter.

You turn just slightly to gently slap Richie’s cheek as he stands next to you. “Rich, you need to line your beard up, this neckbeard shit is pissing me off—”

“What’s with the fuckin’ drive by?!” “It’s been on my mind forever— You can’t be wearin’ suits and then be rockin’ that unkempt shit, clean up—” “I’m clean! I’m fucking clean!” “Who said? Who fuckin’ said? Cause I sure didn’t!” “How’m I s’posed to be linin’ my shit up every mornin’—” “You do not grow a beard that fast—” “Oh fuck you, I’m not fuckin’ Carmen, I grow a fuckin’ beard.”

Carmen’s just surprised to hear his name out of any name come up. “What– Now that’s a fucking drive by, what the fuck?”

“If we’re voicing grievances, I’d like to voice my fuckin’ complaint with Captain Crash-Out over here—” “Who the fuck is sublimating now?” “You’re not usin’ that term correctly, cause you’re not integrated—” “I thought you two worked this out on the road trip!” “We did!”

You only half regret starting this feud with the beard comment— To be fair, you’re right. “This is it working?”

“This is, in fact, it working.” Syd confirms plainly, her disappointment more than apparent. Rubbing the tips of her fingers to her temples. The fight is out of her, at this point.

“Alright.” You slap your hands together. “Richie, what is your complaint?” Are you just union rep now? You might be a union rep now.

“Carmen is fucking killing me.” The cocktail swishes and nearly spills as Richie points at the Chef, emphatic. “He won’t change shit for guests!”

“No substitutions!” It’s almost cultish, the way Sydney and Carmen yell it out together.

Richie scoffs, head reeling back. “What happened to it bein’ about hospitality?”

“I mean…” You suck air through your teeth, squinting. “If we’re sayin’ no substitutions, it’s no substitutions— Unless it’s like an allergy or sensory thing— But even then, it shouldn’t be like a major component getting replaced.”

“See? See?” It’s almost maniacal, rabid, how delighted Carmen is that you’re on his side. “Fuckin’ thank you. This is why I lo—”

Before Carmen can finish his sentence, Richie flails about to suddenly throw the peach and blueberry skewer from his drink at Carmen— Not the pointed side, he doesn’t want to stab the guy. Just wants to save him from running his mouth. The peach slice hits Carm’s chest as Richie stutters out, “F-Fuck you, fuck you, fine. No substitutions— What the fuck am I supposed to say then?” speaking over whatever syllables fell out of Carmen’s mouth, muddling them.

You cock your brow, but Carmen seems to quickly let the childish toss go, more than eager to move on. So you do too. “...Say some bullshit like, like, The Bear encourages —uhm— explorative culinary experiences where you let your taste buds go beyond your limitations and comforts— So eat a fuckin’ mushroom, you’re not gonna die.”

“If they don’t like mushrooms—” “Then they shouldn’t order it!” “How hard is it to just fuckin’ switch it out!?” “So hard! So hard! I think! I could guess!”

“I could do it.”

“Could you?” You cross your arms, leaning your weight onto one leg, pivoting to Richie. “Okay, roleplay, you’re Carmen, I’m you—” Just as Richie opens his mouth, you hold your index finger to his lips. “I know you wanna be a bitch, I’m askin’ you to just skip that part for me.”

His shit eating grin is only a little endearing. “How am I supposed to be in character if I’m not allowed to be a bitch?”

You clench and unclench your hands in the air, but let it go, opting to move on to your little thought experiment. “Chef, patient—” Instincts never give out, huh? “Christ, patron doesn’t want mushrooms in their anolini, I need you to sub it.”

“Ah, well I’m happy to do that for you, Host Richie, I—” He’s going to go into some scathing spiel, and you love the guy, but you have to rub dirt in the wound for the lesson to stick.

You speak over him, voice stern, “Chef. In order to keep pace, I need you to make this call in fifteen seconds, what are you subbing it for?”

Richie’s head shakes back and forth as he scrambles to get his brain to work.“Fuckin— Fucking– Eggplant.”

“Eggplant?” You ask politely, tone unsure. Carmen asks it with you, tone ridiculing.

“It’s a sauce isn’t it?” You squint, turning your head to the actual Carmen. “It’s like a really thick mushroom sauce stuffed pasta?”

He tilts his head from side to side, but nods. In gist, yes. “It’s a ragout. Low and slow cooked stew—” Carmy’s ready to rave about it and teach you every facet of the dish, but perhaps that’s too romantic for a public setting. God, he’s weird about love. “We keep it going on our back burners all day— It takes an hour minimum to make from scratch, you can’t just sub it.”

“Yeah, well…” Richie stops himself short of getting snarky for no reason all over again, taking a second to think about it. “Well, I didn’t know that. You didn’t explain that shit to me.”

“I don’t have time to hold your fuckin’ hand—” Carmen stops short of getting catty when you give him a very soft and yet gutting disappointed look. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sniffing. “I can’t explain why I do everythin’ I do when I’m— When we’re in a middle of a rush, I just need you to trust when kitchen says we can’t do it. Trust that I thought it through.”

Richie has to control himself, has to make sure the corners of his mouth don’t upturn just slightly, has to make sure it’s not clear that he is overjoyed that there’s finally middle ground, can’t get his hopes up. He nods. “I just wanna make everyone happy, y’know?”

“I know. You’re—” Carmen’s nose scrunches up for a second, God, he’s never had to say that he think’s Richie’s good to his face. And he’s not gonna start now, “Eggplant would be a good sub, if we had time.”

Richie prods his tongue along the side of his cheek, thinking. “Maybe I could look into knowin’ restrictions faster and estimatin’ their orders, so you can have ‘em on deck?”

And Carmen does think that’d be a waste of time, but he’s learning. He hears it out. “Could give it a shot, yeah.”

“Same team.” Richie reaches across the counter, and Carmen actually takes his hand, a quick dap. Civil.

“Same team.” First time you’ve heard Carmen adopt your idiom; you can’t help but smile, though you’re trying to hide it. You’re too focused on arguably the two most important men in your life to notice the silent conversation Uncle Jimmy is having with The Computer, speaking solely through nods and exchanged glances.

Pay is for Chip. Cicero nods, and The Computer nods back. He gets it now. Pay is for Chip. Not just the mixologist, not just the sommelier, not just the repairman, not just the not-quite girlfriend, Chip. You’re Chip. You’re the cog, the piece. The grease between everyone.

You’re the guy. Always have been, always will be.

The silent conversation and the warm feeling in the room is cut short though, by The Computer. “Can she deal with the butter thing?”

“What the fuck is the butter thing?” You immediately jump onto the case, when Carmen looks down and away from you, you frown, leaning in. “What’s the butter thing?”

Jimmy snaps his fingers at The Computer, he hands him an invoice, which is then handed off to you. Old Major Farms, Orwellian Butter, salted and unsalted. $11,268. You just. Stare. The math comes all too easy to your head. Worth a week?

“It’s the best.” Carmen repeats as your eyes remain worryingly unblinking. “It’s—”

“Carm.” Syd all but hisses, shaking her head in tight swivels, waving her hand around her neck for him to cut it. “Making it worse.”

“Angel is like, the worst it can get.” Hums Richie. Recalling your barometer of anger. Recalling the times when Mikey would say ‘what’s the point of paying bills?’ And you’d have to pull him aside. “Can’t get much lower than that besides—”

“Light of my life.” You look up from the paper in your hand, and both Richie and Sydney wince. Your voice is terrifyingly delicate as you nod over to the room behind you. “Apple of my eye. Can I speak to you in your office, please?”

Carmy’d like to say no. “...Yeah.” But you already started walking before he even answered, so there’s not much of a choice here. You head in by yourself, and thankfully, the door closes behind you, so Carmen’s got a second before he gets devoured.

He walks around the counter, and as he nears the door, Richie grabs his arm. He whispers as he hands Carmen what’s left of his cocktail. “You need to lock the fuck in.”

“I know.” Carm returns, shooting down all that’s left of the lowball. Why’s Richie’s the sweet one? Why’d Carmen get the cough syrup drink? That’s not fair. Do you not think he’s sweet? “Thank you for the— Intercept.”

Richie nods, he’s been unwillingly playing quarterback for Carmen since going to Rockefeller and seeing that goddamn giant tree and Carmen couldn’t stop opening his big fucking mouth after seeing you under the star. “Just think with your brain, not your—”

“Don’t.” “Was gonna say heart.” “Sure.” “Don’t be weird.”

“I know it’s expensive.” Carmen gets it out before even fully closing the door behind him, “But it’s normal prices, for high-end restaurants. I know it’s different—” He stops short when he finally turns around from the closed door, to see you, holding your painting.

It’s facing you, you’re reviewing it in your hands where you sit in the office chair; the brown wrapping paper freshly ripped and on the floor. Carmen still doesn’t know what’s on the piece.

“Carm.” You twist the piece around in your hand, turning it to him. He can see the nine squares. The Beef to The Bear. Mikey. “This is not another restaurant.”

Carmen continues to stare, silently, though he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out to graze over the canvas. You keep going, clarifying. “We’re not just another high-end restaurant. We’re us. And so we should be doing things like us. We’re the best, we don’t need the stuff to be.”

He was with you until that last part. His pursed lips say as much.

“It’s—” You smack your lips together, haphazardly handing him the canvas, he’s very quick to grab it with both hands, not wanting it unstable for a second. “Hold on, let me show you somethin’ — I think I left one in here.”

You roll the office chair back a bit, sinking down in the seat to reach far behind a tall cabinet; you have to pad your hand around in the dark nook for quite some time before you pull out— A screwdriver. An oddly shaped one, at that.

“...Has that been here the whole time?”

You nod. “Like threeish years at least, I think I threw it back there while telling it’s origin story. It’s part of the first set I ever got.” You grip the flat wooden handle. “It’s the worst screwdriver on earth, like, by far.”

That gets a little chuckle out of Carmen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You look up from it to him. “It’s a handmade set. Dad’s dad made it.” You awkwardly roll closer to him, he leans over, head next to your head as you both look down at it. “It’s got a flat wooden handle, made of poplar— So not only is it fucking impossible to get a good grip on, it’s also so fucking slippery. It’s part of a whole set, passed down from my grandpa to my dad to me.”

“Sounds fucked.”

“It is.” You laugh, and so does he. “It’s purposefully meant to piss you off.” You rub your thumb over the dent marks in the wood— All from the times you threw it at something— Including the very cabinet that it hid behind. “You ever wonder why I took over the handyman gig, bein’ the youngest and all?”

Carmy shrugs, glancing from the screwdriver to you. “Just assumed you were the best.”

That gets another laugh out of you, and Carmen’s overjoyed by the sound. “Yeah, I’m probably the best. But that’s only cause I kept up with it.”

You turn your head up to face Carmen again as you explain, “When our dad started bringing us to jobs as kids, he would make us exclusively use this set of screwdrivers— Sort of as a secret test. My brothers would get pissed off, as planned, and they’d quit and cry. And I dunno, I guess I’d cry and keep going? And I learned a couple tricks, eventually.”

“Tricks?”

“Like.” You pull back in the chair and run your hand across the office desk. The corners of it are screwed into the metal cabinet below it. “It’s really good if you’re screwing from the top down.” Using it as an example, you start to unscrew it. “It’s balanced. And it’s really all in the grip— Always loosen your grip with this one. Even if that seems counterintuitive.”

You get it to unscrew just fine with your loosened grip. “But if that doesn’t work, and you just can’t get it to work—” You lift the screwdriver in front of his face, showing off the sides of the handle. He smirks at the— “Just make your own grooves, it’ll be easier to hold.” Tiny teeth marks.

“Carm.” You tap the handle to his nose as he zones in too much on it. “I’m the best repairman because I can work with anything. You’re the best Chef because you can work with anything. You don’t need the best when you’re the best.”

He’s the best?

He’s the best.

“I truly think you could make just as good a plate with Becel as this fucking Animal Farm butter.”

Carmen’s the best. You think he’s the best.

He’s gotta think with his head and not with his heart and not with anything else, either. Lock the fuck in, Carmen.

“I dunno bout all that.” He shrugs, bashful and attempting to hide it, trying to shake the praise off his back.

“Well I know ‘bout that.” You shrug back, “I’m actually kind of a genius, when it comes to knowing who’s good and who’s not.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Carmy hums, and the sound is sweet without reservations. “...Painting is very good.” He nods to himself, on repeat, like a bobblehead. “Or I guess it’s less a painting and more a buncha photo transfers?”

“Yeah.” You set the screwdriver aside on the desk. “Most of them I took.”

“They’re good. It’s—” He pauses, tongue against his teeth. “It’s nice to see evidence he kept up, or somethin’.”

You nod, seeing Carmen’s brain struggle to keep pace in real time. “We took that one I think the day we talked to Uncle Jimmy about The Bear? Had to print out articles as proof we could make it work— Or, that you could make it work, rather.”

Carmen sniffs, crossing his arms, hands in tight fists— Probably too tight— where they hide. “Yeah, kinda fuckin’ up my end of the bargain, hm?” The light laugh that follows is hollow.

“Eh. You both did.” You smile, though it’s hesitant. “ But at least you’re still here fixing it.”

Still here. Still fixing it. That is in essence, the piece. Carmen gets lost staring at the squares, so you speak as he does. “I was trying to like. I dunno, replicate your brain.” He can see it. The messy yet coherent, controlled yet chaos. The love. The grief. The progress. The home. You see him. He can see that you see him.

“11k for butter,” Carm’s head doesn’t move but his eyes raise to you. “Is a week. More than a week.”

Ah. Carmen can see you too, see your thought process. The Ascaso, worth one of the worst weeks of Mikey’s life. The fucking butter. Worth more than a week of Mikey’s sobriety.

All you can do is nod solemnly. “It is, yeah.”

He nods back, tongue prodding his cheek. “That’s too much.”

“I’d agree.”

“I’ll switch to local.” You make it easy for him to fix his mistakes, by giving him the space to realize them.

“I think that’s the right call.” You nod, smiling. After a moment, you reach for Carmen to uncross his arms, and when he does, you take his fist and uncurl it— Your hand is a very soothing balm to the spots where he dug his nails into his own hand.

“Loosen your grip, Carmy.”

And so, he does. With a laugh and a look to high heaven, he loosens his grip. Really loosens his grip. Well— Not completely, he’s not going to say that, but he will say something that is just nearly as difficult but not quite. He'll bite down a little. He’ll make the grooves, for now, until his grip is good enough.

“Come to dinner with us?”

would you believe me if i said I had to rewrite a bit of this last scene because intially it went so rom-com and I was so disgusted when I reread it in the morning I had to stare at it in the subway ride to work like "what the fuck am I gonna do"

was this chapter good? God I hope so. I felt like with where we're going, it was kinda necessary to do Chip's onboard, set the stage for what work is like for her. I had to loosen my own grip with this one lmao. just allow myself to be a LITTLE messy. if it's bad, lie to me. tell me sweet little lies peach

DAD REVEAL THOUGH EH? MR CK!!! So much did happen this chapter. Chips on board! Squid Ink moving in together era commences! Christmas party!! Also. Would you believe me if I told you no shit syd was gonna move, she was planning it in S2, but I was planning this whole time for Ink to get evicted!! I want those fuckers to be roommates STAT!!!

anyways, i really hope i remembered to write down everyone that asked to be added to the taglist, i might've not. i'm very sorry if i didnt

oh also if you wanna be added!! send in your thoughts!! words for words baby, essay for essay cmonnn gimme ur character analysis!! (oh and also ask to be added, ofc)

@hoetel-manager , @fridavacado @sharkluver , @spectacular-skywalker , @silas-aeiou , @deadofnight0 , @sunbreathingstuff , @anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @blueaproncarmy @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @mrs-perfectly-fine @thefreakingbear @anytim3youwant

#carmen berzatto #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear #the bear x you #carmen x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x oc #carmy berzatto

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inkskinned · 2 years

Text

your phone is still saved in my car's bluetooth memory and my phone still has nick's speakers system saved and every time i switch my pillowcases i do it the way regina taught dominic who taught me how to do it too.

i still flinch because of how [ ] hurt me yeah but a few weeks ago alex and i sat on their floor and talked about how i am able to touch the people i love now, when four years ago i couldn't stand any human contact at all, horrified by the way it made my skin crawl

i didn't remember about the trip we took once up into the rivers and mountains, how you'd been there too, wading deep in the water, how i gave you a rock after. i was scrolling in my instagram history trying to find something else completely and then all the sun of the day came back, how you and me and crisco and maddie all howled songs in the car the whole ride home, my foot to the floorboards, absolutely speeding. i take a lot of pictures because my brain barely holds my own name (it's like the scene in spongebob all the time up there, i tell ziara, because i talk on the phone now, a lot, the way you taught me to enjoy) and the pictures are really good because they're filled with my friends and my activities and the light in my life and the pictures are also really bad because sometimes i am reminded that i used to be horribly in love with you, the kind of love that blots out the sun and moon, no matter how many times other people said she's not good for you

so i go through my memories carefully like stepping through a blackberry bush because i don't know if im embarrassed or hurt but it doesn't feel good and my spotify still has the playlist saved from your birthday party like four years ago and google maps still remembers alison's old address on melrose street even though she moved like forever ago and in my notes app i have like 106 non sequiturs i can no longer parse but they must have been important enough to write down so i don't delete them just-in-case their meanings reveal themselves like fog parting over the bluegreen hills

the birds are singing and i know how to identify a robin because of edie and i know how to make a souffle set properly because molly showed me, her hair untangling from her high bun, gentle and pretty; and i know how to bake because my mama taught me and i had forgotten i wrote you a love poem but then onedrive says today in your memories

#poetry #been a while since i wrote a proper poem #writeblr #something something something #the body keeps the score #and so too now does everything digital #it remembers what ur heart wants to forget #the good news is - it also remembers what you DONT want to forget #hard kind of weight to hold

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l0vem41l · 28 days

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the passenger princess playlists

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, probably ooc, self-indulgent because we have fun here, author's taste in music is utter shit 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. these stupid parasites that keep infecting my brain aka bruce wayne,clark kent, jason todd, tim drake, and stephanie brown

author's note: THEY ARE THE PASSENGER PRINCESS!!!! WHY???? because if i projected my music taste on the reader insert we would have many issues. im not THAT self indulgent w/ my stuff i say, posting hcs of character's music tastes based on my own

you decide that it's time to show how much you trust them.

"hey," you mutter, eyes still on the road, fingers absentmindedly drumming on the wheel. "...you can have the aux cord, by the way."

▸ BRUCE doesn't even take it at first. he usually prefers to drive in complete silence himself, so he lets you handle the music. he's pretty nonchalant about what you play, indifferent to most music as long as it doesn't make his ears bleed.

the first time he takes the offer and plays something he personally enjoys, it's pretty straightforward: his main genres are classical, jazz, and dad rock. like... a lot of dad rock. he can read the room er, car?? well enough to know that the classical and jazz songs he listens to aren't exactly driving playlist material. and yes something in the way by nirvana will be played battison i fucking love you

BRUCE's songs include: ♡ she sells sanctuary by the cult ♡ something in the way by nirvana ♡ 1979 by the smashing pumpkins

▸ CLARK is more than happy to share his music! he's always been excited to hear whatever you jam out to and is pretty open to different genres. he definitely finds favorites of his that match the energy of your car playlists. doesn't wanna play anything that's too much of a bummer though, mainly because driving with you has such good vibes!!! he can't ruin that :( unless your in some sorta mood to be upset. then he's got some stuff aka a lot of elliot smith and jeff buckley

he finds a lot to love in all sorts of genres. it's a mix of stuff that he grew up listening to with his parents, stuff that he found on his own from artists he enjoys, and stuff you introduced him to. his music taste is just a mosaic of love for the people around him.

CLARK's songs include: ♡ it's been a long, long time by harry james and his orchestra ♡ cupid by sam cooke ♡ real love baby by father john misty

▸ if there's someone who's going to criticize music without sharing his full music taste? it's JASON. he's actually not mean but he'll make comments which give the impression that he thinks he'd be better with the aux. like bro ask for the aux normally. REMIND HIM WHO'S HOLDING THE WHEEL. YOU BETTER PRAY THAT THE VOTERS ARE IN YOUR FAVOUR WHEN WE DRIVE INTO THIS TELEPHONE POLE

when you give him the aux privileges he's secretly overjoyed. he likes a lot of different genres, rock, metal, indie rock, some punk... but don't ruin his mood by pointing out his music taste is vaguely inspired by bruce's. or make fun of him for listening to sleep token. obviously he likes listening to chill music too— but for a drive? it's gotta be loud and fast. secretly gets happy when you like the songs he plays. the validation gives him a quiet sort of joy.

JASON's songs include: ♡ knives out by radiohead ♡ goddamn these hands by the taxpayers ♡ custer by slipknot

▸ TIM is pretentious about music, but he doesn't intend to be. he's proud of his taste to the point where he's beyond spotify wrapped and stats.fm. i firmly believe he's made his own software to track the music he's listening to and it's thorough. that being said, he really doesn't mind listening to your music. he likes giving recommendations based off of the songs you play in the car.

tim adores branching out into different genres, and the more obscure it is, the more he likes it. given, he's also into some pretty known and loved bands. car seat headrest. radiohead. slaughter beach, dog. the minute you hand him the aux, he's trying to put you on his favourites. a lot of indie. like... so much indie. and midwest emo... american football WILL be played. he also unfortunately cannot hide his love for the pinkerton album.

TIM's songs include: ♡ never meant by american football ♡ oh! starving by car seat headrest ♡ tragic girl by weezer

▸ STEPHANIE is so cool. i've seen swiftie headcanons but guys... pop punk princess stephanie brown is too real. pop punk, alternative rock, riot grrrl— all that stuff. probably got aux privileges before you even gave her permission, she just started queuing up her songs with yours.

when she gets full control, she already has a playlist ready for the drive. it's kind of all over the place, but the vibes are great. you will go from mommy long legs to chappell roan and then to whatever recession pop artist she's into that week. steph is also a big fan of evanescence, kittie, and hole. those in specific are heavily headcanon-y but i feel like she'd appreciate them.

STEPHANIE's songs include: ♡ misery business by paramore ♡ cherry scented by jack off jill ♡ gimmie brains by bratmobile

▸ what are you listening to? you don't know but CASS seems happy at least. when you gave her aux privileges, she didn't really know what to do. she ended up just picking her favourite songs out of your usual playlists.

eventually, she gets excited by the prospect of sharing what she usually listens to and it's... something. so here's the thing: she listens to a lot of ambient noise. like, things that people usually sleep to. you once drove around for half an hour listening to nothing but the noises of rustling leaves and chirping birds through your speakers. and she was happy.

she listens to a lot of music where there's not a lot of lyrics most of the time, but tends to listen to some of stephanie's music as well— usually the more mellow side.

CASS' songs include: ♡ relaxing tranquil day in the forest by nature sounds ♡ healing ritual by whatever, dad ♡ to violet by adrianne lenker

part two... potentially??? lmk which character's you'd want ^_^

— reblogs always appreciated!

#dc #dc comics #dc x reader #dc x you #batman #superman #red hood #red robin #spoiler dc #black bat #bruce wayne #clark kent #jason todd #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #x reader #I WANTED TO ADD SO MANY MORE CHARACTERS AAUWGHWH

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in-amess · 5 months

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what happened to just messing around? pt.2

paige bueckers x oc

“You hate pomegranates?”

“I like peaches.”

“Wasn't my question, but I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Hailey snaps her head towards Paige, trying to find out what she meant by ‘next time’. She brushes it off as a figure of speech.

Paige remains unaware of Hailey’s stare and continues to play with the cat in her lap, petting its head gently, and Hailey bites back a smile at the sight.

Hailey ignores the way Paige’s scent is starting to stain her sheets. She ignores how their time spent together is past the limit of their initial agreement. She ignores how Paige is still in her room, and brushes off the fact that it's a weekday when they agreed to meet only on weekends.

“You're staring.”

And that snaps Hailey out of her trance, “I was simply wondering why you’ve been smiling much.”

“I’m feeling happy today.”

“Because of me?” Hailey teases.

Paige doesn't say anything, but the way her eyes soften gives Hailey the answer.

“Would you like anything for breakfast?” Paige stands up and opens her cupboards, “I can cook pancakes, eggs and bacon if you’d like.”

Hailey bites her bottom lip, she knows she shouldn't stay. This is getting too intimate. Maybe she’s just overthinking. Maybe this is Paige’s farewell before she ghosts her for Lord knows how long.

“I may have to decline your offer, unfortunately.” Paige’s cat, Koi, paws its way to Hailey and begins rubbing on her shins, “Wouldn't wanna take up more of your time. I really appreciate it, though.”

Paige’s eyes soften and she breathes out a sigh, “Alright. I’ll walk you out?”

“Yeah.”

Hailey gathers her belongings and begins walking out with Paige trailing behind her.

“I’ll see you this weekend?”

“You have my number.” Paige smiles, “You took the bus?” she asks, looking over Hailey’s shoulder, searching for her car.

“I walked.”

Paige hums, “Wait here.” she goes back inside, leaving Hailey standing at her porch. Hailey twiddles with the string of her joggers. She raises her head up when she hears the jingle of keys.

“Paige, you don't have to.” Hailey says, even though she knows she’s not getting her way as hard as she tries.

“Not taking no for an answer!” Paige connects their hands and looks at Hailey with a glint in her eyes. Paige opens the passenger car door for Hailey. Hailey tucks her hair behind her ear, trying to hide the small smile forming on her lips.

Once in her seat, Paige hands Hailey her phone open on Spotify, indicating for her to choose a song.

Hailey skims through Paige’s playlists and chooses “Me & You Together Song” by The 1975.

The car ride concluded with a lot of singing and discussing the new Taylor Swift album. Paige was never a big fan of Taylor Swift, but Hailey got her into many of her songs. Paige's favourite album being 1989.

“Stay seated.” Paige tells her. Hailey watches Paige go around the car to open the car door for her with that stupid smile on her face.

“Milady,” Paige bows and Hailey can't help but slightly shove her.

“Such a gentleman.”

Paige winks at her and follows Hailey to her door. Paige puts her hands in her pockets, not knowing where else to put them. She thought about resting them on Hailey's waist but wasn't sure what her reaction would be so she went with the safer option.

Paige stops at her porch, her confident demeanor gone and all Hailey sees is a timid girl, unsure of what's to happen next.

“Thank you for giving me a ride home.”

“Anytime, Hailey. I'll see you next weekend?”

“Yeah.”

Paige gives her a small smile and slowly turns to leave. Hailey, in the moment, reaches for Paige's hand, squeezing, causing Paige to turn her head.

Hailey leans in, kissing Paige on the corner of her lips. Paige remains frozen in her spot, afraid the moment will end when she moves.

Hailey leans away, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, “Bye.” and she swiftly closes the door, leaving Paige agape on her doorstep.

Legend says, Paige is still frozen.

#paige bueckers x female oc #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #wlw #lesbian #fic #paige bueckers fic

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aquareegia · 10 months

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Transcript of Will Ramos' essay on Sleep Token for Rock Sound magazine

I might play in a metal band as part of my job, but I don't listen to much metal music anymore.

A few years ago though, I remember one of my friends saying to me, "Dude, you've got to check out this band Sleep Token… They're pretty cool".

I'd never heard the name before, but I'd listened to 'Hypnosis' and a couple of other songs from the band's second album, 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb', to see what they were like.

Hitting play for the first time, I was caught off guard. You hear the guitar and these slamming instrumentals and instantly you think, 'This is about to fucking kick ass'. You're so sure that the vocalist is about to come in with some gnarly screaming, but then you hear this man singing, and he's singing so beautifully. I didn't see it coming at all, and as soon as I heard it, I knew that it was exactly what I needed to hear.

At the start of a long drive that I had to make on my own, I hit play on 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb' from the beginning for the first time. As the record began with 'Atlantic', I was vibing to the sound of the music, but as it rolled through each track I started to get more and more caught up in this incredible sonic journey. By the time it was over, I realised that I'd been on this emotional roller coaster of love, pain, happiness, sadness and nostalgia.

Boom, that was it - I was hooked on that album. Every single song on that record was so freaking incredible to me, and I needed to know more about Sleep Token. Believing that my friend and I were the only people in on this hype, I spoke about it to my band one day, and they said to me, "You need to listen to 'Sundowning'!" I was so mad that they knew about this band the whole time, and nobody ever told me, but I went back and listened to Sleep Token's first album like they suggested.

I remember thinking it was very different. It's not as polished, but it's very dynamic and so beautiful. I think it definitely says something when you can see the progression of a band from just their first and second albums. From then, I knew they were onto something incredible.

It feels like more and more people have been catching onto that hype over the last year, and now it seems as though their name is impossible to ignore. I remember when they released 'The Summoning' at the start of 2023, the day after they'd released 'Chokehold', it felt like it all went crazy. They had something like 4-million hits on that song in just two days, and now, it's got over 70-million plays on Spotify. It was the beginning of a huge explosion for Sleep Token, and the first time I heard it, I was genuinely confused by it. It's so ridiculously versatile, and on my first few listens I felt like the super jazzy outro didn't fit at all, but the more I listened the more it began to click. I remember at the time I showed it to Elizabeth Zharoff, a vocal coach from The Charismatic Voice, and the outro was immediately one of her favourite parts.

She's from a completely other world of music, so to hear her approval showed me how capable Sleep Token were of reaching people outside of the metal scene.

I might not listen to metal music anymore, but Sleep Token are revitalising heavy metal. It brings back the nostalgia that I felt when I was a little kid listening to this type of music for the first time and being like, 'Holy shit, what is this? This is so cool'. I had started to lose that feeling over the years, but every time I listen to these songs, all those emotions come flooding back. In my opinion, there's no band out there that sounds like them - and that's a truly impressive feat.

Merging metal with pop, R&B, and rap influences, and bridging all these different gaps that many artists have historically been afraid to explore, there's something here for so many types of music fans. For a long time, metal bands have been putting themselves in a box. There's been this idea that a metal band needs to be heavy, that you need to have a breakdown in every song, and that you need to tick all the boxes in order to succeed. It's been so refreshing to see the evolution of the genre over the last few years, and to see bands like Sleep Token bring all these different sounds to the forefront of metal.

It brings a whole bunch of unique people into the fold. People love to say that metal is dying, but it's music like this that keeps it alive. It doesn't just move the scene forward, it expands it.

Now, there are all these people who didn't listen to metal before listening to Sleep Token. R&B and pop fans are coming into this as fans of Vessel's singing voice and hearing all these metal influences along the way. The second verse of 'Take Me Back To Eden' has this great rap-inspired singing part, and it's these little things that speak to different people in different ways. All of this feeds into our community in some crazy way, shape, or form. It's welcoming people into a genre that they may never have been exposed to otherwise, and I think that s a beautiful thing.

As a vocalist, one thing in particular that draws me to Sleep Token is Vessel's voice. I have always been a screamer, but I've always wanted to be a singer at the same time. I always practise on the side of Lorna Shore, but in my mind I'm like, 'This isn't very good. My voice is not fit for metal at all, as far as singing goes'. When I first heard Sleep Token though, one of the first things I noticed was that Vessel and I have a very similar range. Hearing him lay down all of these incredible parts, it makes me realise that I can actually sing metal vocals.

Back when I first discovered them, I wanted to cover their songs in the hopes that more people would hear them. Now, I just want to cover them so that I can sing something that is in my range.

Obviously though, his voice is much more dynamic than mine because he's been polishing it for a very long time. He does a crazy vibrato and can switch between his head voice and chest voice super easily. It's crazy stuff, and as someone who has been a vocalist for so long, I can appreciate the techniques he's using. I love to hear the different ways he's able to blend his voice into the genre.

Another thing that makes his voice so unique is that it's so emotional. When I hear Vessel sing, I can truly feel the emotion behind his words. He might be this otherworldly figure singing about an ancient deity, but there's a distinct humanity to his vocals. You can sense his sadness and pain, and whether people realise it or not that draws a lot of people to Sleep Token's music. They're the band that you can listen to at two o'clock in the morning when you're driving down the road alone. They're the perfect companion for those moments where you're upset about something, and you just need to listen to something that feels like a release.

That's a beautiful thing, because when you write music, you want people to feel the same emotions that you're feeling when you're writing it. The way that Vessel translates all of that is so incredible, and it's arguably my favourite thing about the band. Between his vocals and the instrumentation behind them, you feel exactly what they want you to feel. Even before thinking about what I knew about Sleep Token, when we were thinking about what we wanted to do with Lorna Shore, that was the goal. We wanted to bring a little bit more emotion into heavy metal music, and now they've done that and brought the singing into it too. Metal's now even more emotional because of the way he uses his beautiful voice, and I think that's what this genre has needed for a long time.

The truth is, from the moment I first heard Sleep Token, I knew they were one of those bands. Between their studio quality, their musical skill, and their ability to conjure up their own lore to incorporate into the music, I could see that they had the potential to be something truly special, they just needed that little push.

As soon as they got that with 'The Summoning', that was it - they were taking over.

First impressions are a big thing, and I think 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb' will always be my favourite album because of the way I first connected with it, but 'Take Me Back To Eden' is phenomenal. They have been able to get all of their emotion out in so many new ways on those songs because there's even more happening from a musical perspective. They've managed to strike the balance between heaviness and beauty perfectly and that's what we strive to create with albums. The goal is to create an album you can sit with, front to back, and feel the waves of emotion. A record to let yourself feel those things, and an opportunity to sit in isolation whilst you experience that journey.

It's a feeling that's amplified within Sleep Token's live shows, and I was able to catch them at Blue Ridge Rock Festival in Virginia. Lorna Shore were also playing, and we had a meet and greet scheduled for that day. It was scheduled to take place from 7pm until 7:30pm, and Sleep Token's set started at 7:30pm. I was a little antsy, because I know that meet and greets always overrun by half an hour or so, and they were the band I was most desperate to catch.

I was sitting there, it was 7:29pm, and the meet and greet line was still as long as it had been when we'd started. I started to hear 'Chokehold' playing in the distance, and I felt so sad.

People online were messaging me to tell me that Sleep Token were playing, and I was like, 'I know! I can hear them, but I'm stuck here!'

That's where it started to set in how freaking massive Sleep Token were becoming. They're one of the biggest metal bands that I'm aware of right now, and there were so many people watching that set. They refer to their live shows as rituals, their fans are the congregation, and the stage as a place of worship. It's something that could easily seem tacky if a band did it with little consideration for the details, but they're so committed to what they do.

After about three minutes, as I heard 'Chokehold' coming to an end, I stood up and said, 'Alright everybody, I've got to go. I'm so sorry, but if you know me, you'll understand'. The people who come to our meet and greets know how much I love Sleep Token, so they were like, 'Dude, go!' I sprinted out of there, leaving the rest of the band still doing the meet and greet, and made my way over to the stage. I thought I was the only one who wanted to see their set, but ten seconds into running I turned around and saw Of Mice & Men's singer, Aaron Pauley, following me. We started running through this huge crowd together, and everybody was so excited. I'm not the type of guy to leave a meet and greet early, but I needed to witness that set. It was an act of true love!

Even when they post on Instagram after shows, the captions are always like, 'The ritual has been completed in Copenhagen'. They totally absorb themselves in the spiritual aspect, physically, visually, and sonically. It's a brand, and they completely own that brand. They've made it exactly what it is, and they stick to it.

When I saw them, they had four people onstage doing harmonies with them, and they just stood there in their cloaks.

They didn't move throughout the entire set, and I began to picture it as a church choir at the side of the ritual. The whole experience does feel super spiritual, and they don't just give 50 per cent to the theming, it's 100 per cent. People feel the emotion, see the way they embody this ideal, and hear this incredible music - and I think that's why people are so ready to absolve themselves in this spiritual moment.

Everybody has a different connection to every song because of the different things everyone goes through in life, but they get to experience all of that in a place where everybody else is feeling something too.

Vessel's vocals translate into their live experience so perfectly, too. His screams are even better live than they are in the studio, and he still sings beautifully, which is so impressive. I was genuinely doubtful that he was going to be able to hit all of those vibratos and do all the other crazy vocal work he does on the albums, but he hit every note. Sometimes, he doesn't even hit the notes that he does on the studio versions, but he hits another note that is equally as stunning. He's a true performer.

You can tell a lot about a band from their live performance, but as a band in the modern age you also have to put a lot of thought into your promotion. The way you come across on social media is important, and the way that people perceive you is largely down to how you come across online. That's why I've always been fascinated by Sleep Token choosing to keep the identities of their band members a secret, refusing to do interviews and placing the focus on their visual identity.

I definitely think that's played a part in their success, because it's allowed the music to take centre stage. I remember when I was first talking to the rest of Lorna Shore about Sleep Token, they told me about the lore behind the band and that the members are all anonymous. That was before 'The Summoning' came out, but since people have caught on there have been some serious investigative deep dives, so l'm pretty sure the internet has found out who Vessel is.

I didn't look that up though, because personally for me, I always really appreciated the fact that they were totally anonymous. I like the feeling that Vessel is just a voice in the ether. You can hear it, but you can't classify it as being the voice of any one person, it's just this intriguing mystery. I've heard a lot of people say that it reminds them of when they first got into Slipknot because when a lot of people I know first listened to that band, nobody knew who was behind the masks. They were just a bunch of dudes making music with no outside perceptions, but then obviously people found out. I think that Sleep Token have that similar allure for a whole new generation, but sadly for me that mystery was shattered when I met them after a show.

It was great to meet them, but I also really didn't want to know who they were. I loved not knowing and I think that the anonymous aspect of what they do plays such an important role in the impact they're having on the heavy metal world.

It's a bit of a double-edged sword because everyone wants to know their identities, but once you do know - you miss the anonymity.

There's something special about the way they're putting their music out into the world with no need for individual validation, and I think it takes a lot of guts and confidence in what you're creating to do what Sleep Token are doing.

Usually, you almost want everyone to know who's in the band, because often that helps push you forwards. If you have someone in your line-up who's been in a well-known band before, you want to use that name to get yourselves out into the scene more. Sleep Token aren't anybody, and that takes a lot of courage and humbleness to do. There's no predisposed idea of what their music is supposed to be or what it's going to be, and that's part of the magic.

It's something that also comes out in the lore, the symbolism, and the cryptic clues that Sleep Token scatter throughout everything they do. There are Reddit threads dissecting every single word in the songs and analysing each pixel within their visuals, but it's not something I've had the chance to fall into just yet.

When I first listened to 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb', I could only find one or two articles about Sleep Token online.

They were basic articles explaining the idea of the band and what they were trying to do, which I thought were cool, but I never really looked it up again.

Over the last year or so, it seems that these conversations have spiralled. People are coming up with these different ideas about the band's story, and there are all these hints appearing constantly. I don't know any of the Easter eggs yet. I'm still just fascinated by the music and their wicked aesthetics, but I love that they've got people talking. It's become this kind of community around the band, and as someone who grew up in this scene, seeing artists who are able to foster that feeling amongst fellow music fans is such an incredible thing.

I think that's one of the reasons why Sleep Token have been able to find success on such a wide level so quickly, because there's a constant conversation about them. If people aren't talking about their music, they're talking about the lore and the stories behind it, or they're talking about the potential identities of the band members. They have this perfect package in place that lends itself to a world class metal band, but they're achieving it at such an incredible speed.

They thought out every single element of this band before they even started, from how the melodies work with the vocals, to the emotion and the quality of the sound. A lot of people put out music that sounds like they're hitting a trash can, and whilst they might have really good singing over the top of it, you can't ignore that trash can. Sleep Token have got incredible production value though, which is even more impressive when you consider how versatile their sound is.

It's so well thought out that you hear new things in each song on every listen. If you listen to 'Take Me Back To Eden', the title track of their third album, there's an allusion to a particular part of 'Chokehold', and it's details like that which make their production so unique. They wanted to make sure that it came out perfect, and maybe - like all musicians I know - they think they could have made certain parts of it better in retrospect, but I honestly can't imagine how.

Between the versatility, the emotion that people feel when they listen to it, the heaviness, the quality, and the songwriting, Sleep Token don't cut any corners anywhere. That's why they're already playing these huge, career defining shows, and putting out music that's changing people's perception of heavy music as a whole. It's so exciting to be a Sleep Token fan, and I just want them to write even more mind-blowing music and play even bigger places because they truly deserve it.

The bigger the places that they play, the better they're going to sound live. They're already playing arenas over in the UK, and with the size of those venues I just know they're going to sound absolutely incredible. They're reaching heights much higher than most metal bands that I know, and the bigger they get, the better their production value is going to be all round.

'Take Me Back To Eden' only came out earlier this year, but I already can't wait to hear them put out more music. lf what we heard on album three is the direction that they're going in, I'm very optimistic to see what the future holds for Sleep Token. I imagine at one point, they're going to make it on the radio - and honestly it could happen sooner rather than later. I knew it when I first heard them, and I'm even more certain of it now - they're going to be huge.

#tumblr if you don't post this again after i've spent over two hours on this so help me istg #sleep token #sleep token worship #will ramos #lorna shore

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centrally-unplanned · 2 months

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I might be a bit of a weirdo in this regard so I am a bit biased, but I think a fundamental problem AI Companion Apps like lets say Friend.com are going to have in "replacing socializing" is that socialization is instrumental and that instrumentality lies in the real. The ad copy for this product and so many of its various clones is a normal-looking everyman just chatting with their companion, making comments about the weather or how their hiking is going, etc. Treating it like a friend and talking to it like a friend does.

The rub there is that not many people do those behaviors for the reasons presented. They are treated as somehow "inherently" enjoyable, that you just love talking to ~something~ about the weather and anything that can pantomime the right responses is going to do it for you. That isn't how it works for most people; the point is the other person. The words themselves, divorced from the speaker being a breathing human you have a relationship with, are not very interesting. Instead it is about building rapport, signalling care, a human-connected daily ritual. Sometimes it is positive, but it is negative sometimes too! You put up with Kyle's 18th story about his dog's health woes because, look, it's boring as shit, but Kyle needs to rant about it and if this is the price of admission to his amazing saturday brunch parties you are going to pay up.

Even interesting-in-their-own-right convos are normally not like wow, you taught me some amazing new fact; it is hearing your friend's interesting take or experiences. There is this whole structural undercurrent here, this person is admirable or kind or you have a lot of history with them or they are really hot and so their words are contextualized into an emotional experience of connection or curiosity or wanting to impress them and a million other things around that structure.

When you shed all of that, when it is an AI that you know is just programmed to listen, that you can turn off at will, that you can just override and ask it for directions or to switch over to spotify or to sext you catgirl pics, there isn't anything left. These conversations are useless - what is the point? Why would I tell my phone how tired I am? Those are empty words, I am immediately bored and will flip over to YouTube instead.

Obviously there are niche applications. Porn and its adjacencies of course, where the fiction is the point. Specifics like a daily journal that interacts with you a bit? Sure, that would work for some. One-offs and curiosities of course, "Siri+" because that is a functional tool. But none of these are the same thing.

Now there are already, and have been for years, successful apps like Replika or Character.AI. The people on those clearly seem to enjoy talking to a digital friend, right? And I agree with you, humans are diverse, for some people this stuff works. Now for many, even possibly the majority depending on how you count it, these things are just the above categories though; a porn bot, a curiosity, a "man look how far AI has come" exploration. But I agree there are users who truly treat these tools as their friend or partner

And I have looked at the conversations those people have with their friend or partner. And...look. These tools suck. They do not, in any way, believably mimic a human conversation. By design they do not, endlessly accommodating and affirming, with shallow personalities and infinite flexibility. They are not friends, they are boxes to stuff inputs into and get validations out of, no human conversation works this way. Some people want that, no worries. Some people need that, maybe, I get it. But most people don't. These conversations would, if treated as an actual companion to most people, be incredibly cringe. They are not a sign that AI friends for everyone are right around the corner, if only we boost the specs. They are a niche product for a certain kind of person that does not mass scale at all.

You can sell people the "illusion" of a friend, even a nearly perfect one, and it might sell - as the stage show it is. Like a video game, something you explore, experience, and discard. Because it's not a person; I can just drop it if I want and it won't feel anything. That is what makes it an illusion and not magic; it is a trick that I see through over time. And making whatever implementation of Claude your little bluetooth-on-a-necklace runs have 10% higher fidelity or "able to pass the Turing Test" isn't going to change that. Maybe it will work as a product - video games sell after all. But it won't be a social revolution.

Then again these Friend.com guys apparently spent 2/3rds of their seed money on buying the web domain for Friend so they might have other problems to worry about.

#AI Friendship & Its Discontent #Though funnily enough if you can *pretend* to be a real person that changes things...

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earthtooz · 2 years

Note

I NEED ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS, I BEG YOU 😭

·˚ ༘ ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS !

# warnings: gn!reader, fluff and a little hurt/comfort, mentions to arguments, somewhat suggestive but no nsfw, swearing, idk how many words this is but quite a bit LOL, unedited

# a/n: LUCKY FOR BOTH OF US THAT I JUST SO HAPPENED TO WANT ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS TOO. ENJOY MY FRIEND.

no one knows how you two got into a relationship and to be honest, you don't really know either. like how did you bag itoshi mf rin 😨 the most unlikeable bitch anyone will ever meet in their life... (lovingly)

bachira asked you if you were okay the first time you met and rin immediately lunged at him. like, please stop babe, you're just proving meguru's point !

how you met and all is a story for another time <3 because holy fucking shit is it a long one.

but the point is, although rin takes a while to open up, he is an amazing boyfriend, despite what everyone believes :,)

claims that he needs an independent partner bc he needs his space from time to time and you were completely understanding, even agreeing that some privacy here and there is nice.

except as it turns out, rin is the most co-dependent partner there is 💀 it's no longer 'i' bc it is now 'we'! slay!

he literally needs you to go to the grocery store with him and expects you hold his hand the entire time too- literally.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"you know how to buy your own green tea, why do i need to come with you?" you ask when rin pops his head into your study room where you were reading your book. "please?"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you accompany him (almost) every time. if you're out he even waits for you to get home just so you can go with him like boy wtf...

well his love language is quality time saur.

expresses his love through gifts and acts of service as well. all of the gifts he buys for you are genuinely so well thought-out, like you almost tear up at all of them. one of them was a teddy bear that said 'you're better than mediocre.' and you almost cried 🗣🗣 okay but fr, he got you an anniversary gift of all his favourite moments with you, adding spotify bar codes to the pictures. there were photos from before u even dated like rin 😭😭😭😭 he is so babygirl pls take care of him.

on that note, i headcanon that rin has decent music taste. he listens to rock and alt, even anime soundtracks 🤣 but bc he's fluent in english, i bet he listens to arctic monkeys and the neighbourhood on REPEAT 🔁

wait yeah lover of music, it just makes sense for him to have a collection of headphones in his room. he likes to make you playlists too :( rinnie :( for me???

(rin also has a love language of offering you the first bite of food. you're sharing ice cream? here, have the first spoon. wanna try some of rin's lunch? he's already offering it. the smoothie he's having sounds good? he's already pushing it towards you.)

ALSO ☝️ BC THIS FUCKER LOVES HORROR, IT'S SOMETIMES TO A POINT THAT IT GETS YOU KINDA SCARED FOR YOUR LIFE... HOW IS HE SO IMMUNE TO ALL THE BLOOD... AND VIOLENCE...

he's SICK for this. you never let him pick the movies whenever you want to watch something.

also like it's a good enough reason to not get on his bad side. mans probably has 100 ways to k*ll shidou and get away with it.

anyways, rin would probably be hesitant to let you meet his family (read: sae). he's not ashamed of you, he's ashamed of sae.

so when his family demands to meet you, rin finally caves, agreeing to a dinner back home. only to find out he had nothing to worry about. his mother and father love you, saying how you were so beautiful the whole dinner, and how lucky rin was to have you. they even brought up the topic of marriage and you and rin kinda just sat there like 😐😁 smile and wave... smile and wave...

internally though, rin was over the moon knowing that you're accepted by his family. he loves his mum and dad, and although his relationship with sae is rocky with no smooth waves in sight, his opinion is... 'appreciated'.

best part was that his mother then turned to sae and went 'when are you going to get a partner as well?' and rin SENT HIM THE MOST SHIT-EATING GRIN EVER LMFAOOOOOOO

they got into a fight whilst cleaning the dishes that night.

rin then takes u home and pampers u, still high from the happiness that seeing u with his family brought 😇

WAIT ALSO - YOU TWO DEFINITELY SHOWED UP TO THE DINNER WITH MATCHING FITS >:o

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN'S WARDROBE LIKE DAMN SHAWTY... LET ME HIT... so he'll 100% shop for you too.

in fact, he's the best boyfie to take shopping, he'll be like 'no that's not your colour, but the fit is nice' or be like 'you might need a different size. this one isn't right' - you trust his judgment way more than your friends.

when you are out with your friends shopping, you'll send rin photos for his opinions and he never misses 💯 drops whatever he's doing to respond bc he's gotta make sure his pretty lover has the best wardrobe!!

rin loves paying for your shopping sprees too. no matter how much you try to wrestle him for who pays, he will always win. you make it even though by paying for your meals that day (the difference in how much money is spent on clothes and food will never compare, but it makes you feel a little less guilty so rin indulges you).

also attentive af. knows your tastes in almost everything, memorised your little habits and how you like certain things done. very dedicated bf once you realise just how much he loves doing things for you.

i just had this thought:

you know how couples post on tiktok all the time? well, you thought it would be nice if you could participate in one trend with rin.

you just thought it'd be a small post to share with your friends but instead, you seemed to forget to turn on the 'only friends can view option', it blew the FUCK up - like ofc it would, that's itoshi mf rin... but the comments were all like 'why are you with him', or 'dump him... you're too hot for him...', or 'you can do sooo much better than him'.

look, no matter how sensible rin is, he's not immune to drama and this bitch will not settle for when people tell him he doesn't deserve you like did YOU GO THROUGH TWO YEARS OF PINING??? I DON'T THINK SO. SIT THE FUCK DOWN.

so he's on your account, picks the comment 'i could treat you better than him', films himself giving the commenter the middle finger before you pull him in by the collar to give him a big ol kiss, cutting the video at the exact time that you both stumble out of frame.

look, it's not the most optimal way to fight back against the haters 🙄 but he doesn't need to prove nothing, not like anyone else gets you all to themselves.

oh this man has a banger social media presence, on his main AND on his private accounts.

he prefers posting on the priv bc there he can freely show u off and be more authentic.

itoshirinpriv I love when Y/n wears the things I buy them

─ megurusundercover when will u buy me things rinnie </3

╰┈➤ itoshirinpriv Choke and die

╰┈➤ megurusundercover kinky ;)

─ isagi11 Hi @y/n !

╰┈➤ y/n HI YOICHI !!!!

LOVES A SUPPORTIVE S/O, EVEN IF HE DOESN'T LET IT SHOW!!! WEAR HIS JERSEY AT A MATCH AND CHEER FOR HIM AND YOU HAVE HIS HEART !!! RECORD HIS MATCHES FOR HIM AND WATCH THEM WITH HIM AND HE'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER !!!!! he doesn't ask for much, just a little appreciation back :<

also don't try to compete against rin in anything unless you have guaranteed victory bc this mf is competitive AF.

will spare you on some occasions but more often than not, will give 100% into everything.

you use this to your advantage like 'hey babe, wanna see who can clean more of the house in one hour?' and HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY EVERY TIME. to be fair, so do you because like you want a clean house, but rin is SO speedy when there's a challenge involved.

easy defeat every time but you can't be mad.

hc that rin can't cook for shit. so you'll have to be there with him or just ban him from the kitchen straight up.

you taught him how to make microwave popcorn and that's about the only thing he is permitted to make.

even his diet-regulated smoothies are all made by you because holy fuck he somehow always messes up the recipe despite it being really clear and concise.

also you steer clear from him when he's working out because he just looks TOO GOOD working out that i makes you feel a little funny and pathetic 😇

if you are someone who does enjoy exercise, rin would love to take this chance to spend some more time together. you could be doing a pilates workout and rin is in the corner lifting weights, glancing over to you ever so often, sending him winks when you catch him.

loves going on hikes with you, no matter the difficulty, how steep or flat, he just really likes being active and if you join him, he'll be SO happy.

also u know how he loves yoga and meditation? if hiit and sweat-inducing workouts aren't for you, he likes stretching with you and teaching you breathing exercises that help throughout the day.

100/10 MASSEUSE BTW !!!! 👍👍👍👍

ofc, relationships aren't always perfect and especially when dealing with rin, someone who has quite a fair bit of trauma from being abandoned and left behind, it only worsens the tension.

believes you're going to leave him every time </3 like no :( just bc you're mad at him doesn't mean you've stopped loving him.

communication is so important. rin has a tendency to catastrophize a lot so please, put your pride aside and talk to him! reassure him! spend some time with him! that's how post-arguments usually go.

then you'll talk it out calmly, expressing both of your perspectives, apologising for breaking boundaries and trying to adapt accordingly.

this routine is a delicate one and it took months of putting aside your immaturity in order to grow together. especially rin who is so full of pride, but when he realised that his stubbornness wasn't winning him anything, he shattered his hardened perception of self and let you in.

"rin?" you whisper, poking your head into your shared bedroom delicately, afraid to upset the beast sleeping in there even more.

"what," he snaps, sitting on his side of bed in a hunched over position. he hugs his legs close to his body and the sight breaks your heart a little.

"i'm watching 'the shining', you can join me if you'd like to."

he grumbles something inaudible before you close the door quietly, hoping he'd cave because you chose this movie just so he'd come around. it's his favourite after all.

setting out a bowl of popcorn and some beverages of choice, you just manage to get the movie up when rin emerges from the bedroom, all gloomy and moody. he plops down on the opposite side of the couch, chin on his hand.

he's pretending like you don't exist which is fine by you, you know he'll cave eventually. so, you slide a cup of water and the bowl of popcorn to him and settle in, pressing 'play'.

around 15 minutes in or so, you're too engrossed in the movie to hear rin's quiet shuffling, and how he's now crossed the distance to sit next to you. his hand comes up to your shoulder to get your attention and when he has it, rin's quick to manoeuvre you so that you were now lying down on the couch.

he then plops down, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your chest.

"i'm sorry," whispers the striker. such simple words with such heavy meaning, especially coming from him.

you know he wants to say more, but you know better than he can't get it out, so, you begin threading your fingers through his hair, just how he likes it. rin softens completely against you.

"it's okay," you reassure.

"you're too good for me."

the next morning there's a bouquet of flowers and dessert from your favourite bakery on the kitchen counter.

rin wakes up at a reasonable hour. he likes to start off his days between 8 to 9 am, with 9-10 hours of sleep.

your sleep cycle has been synced with his because he hates sleeping without you beside him.

unless you have a good reason to push back sleep, he will not stand for it. stop depriving yourself of sleep and give your body the rest it deserves!!!!!

has a set night routine with you.

also i'm sorry but rin loves making out + neck and hand kisses are his favourite to give to you + he loves receiving temple and lip kisses.

goes to parties and clubs but very reluctantly. he doesn't like to drink, especially during soccer season, so there's not a lot of joy he can find in going out, except when he gets to eye you up and down all night and have fun with you AYEEEE 🕺😩

'you can wear whatever u want, i can fight' bf.

one thing you learn abt this man overtime is that he truly does not care how you dress. even tho it seems like he's judging you, he loves everything you wear and will admire you appreciatively 24/7.

#hope u enjoyed !#quite self indulgent but i can't help it T^T #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x you #rin x you #rin itoshi x you #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #rin fluff #itoshi rin drabble

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thesoftboiledegg · 1 month

Text

Rock on! 🎶🎵

After I walked around, took pictures and grabbed a gift from the Rickmobile, I decided to drive home. I'm not interested in watching the anime, so why stay for the screening?

I drove about ten minutes away, and I thought--nope, I'm going back. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event. Watching movies and TV shows is way more fun when you're in a crowd. I'm an MCU fan, so I know how it works.

Earlier that evening, people were parked in the chairs, ready for the show.

Adult Swim reminded them not to record the episode. "We shouldn't have to tell you this, but people suck."

It started raining on the drive back to the Rickmobile, but luckily, it didn't last long. Unfortunately, I arrived just in time to catch the last five minutes. Whoops.

But they announced that they'd air the episode again! I just had to kill thirty minutes.

Check out that guy's Morty mask! 👇

I was hungry, so I bought a hot dog and homemade chips from a food truck. Adult Swim blasted their Spotify playlist--with ads. Apparently, they didn't want to spring for Spotify Premium.

The crowd slowly thinned out. The Rickmobile ran out of merchandise and closed up shop.

Weird, it looks like an ice cream truck in that first photo. 🍨

Morty managed to look even more terrified in the darkness. Someone helpfully illuminated his face with a spotlight.

Before the episode began, the crew played a track that I thought was a remix of the Rick and Morty theme song, but apparently, it's a track called Birth4000 by Floating Points.

And then it was showtime!

Before the episode, Adult Swim played another reminder that this preview was "just between us" and that piracy is bad. And they weren't joking--a guy standing next to me got caught recording the episode and had to leave after deleting the video from his phone.

The episode itself was OK. I enjoyed the art, animation and theme song, but the story was hard to follow. Summer was a badass, though. I also loved getting a glimpse of the Rick with long hair. I'll admit it: I'm biased because my OC is a fellow long-haired Rick.

Thinking about it now, I wonder how many people in the crowd also had OCs or roleplayed, wrote fics, made fan art, etc. It's easy to forget that even a lot of diehard fans don't take that route. We're our own little community inside a giant fanbase.

I hope I can attend another event like this in the future. It's one thing to spot thousands of Rick and Morty fans on Twitter or Reddit, but to see how many people love the show in person? And that's just a tiny fraction of its viewership.

Here's to season eight and beyond!

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #rickmobile #rick and morty the anime #rick and morty anime #adult swim #roundup

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corvid-ae · 5 months

Text

So you want to listen to Main Range?

Great! I know how intimidating it can be to try and start listening, so I’ve tried to compile a guide to the main story arcs. More under the cut (minor spoiler warning)!

Also known as the Monthly Adventures, it’s a great way to get into the DWEU and definitely one I would recommend. It is also accessible, with the first 50 stories available on Spotify, or available to buy from Big Finish or second-hand fairly easily (or, you know, via less-legitimate means).

Main Range involves stories from the Fifth, Sixth, Seventh and Eighth Doctors, and various TV and original companions. If you are a fan of eighties and nineties Who, then Main Range might be for you! My general recommendations for people are to pick a specific doctor AND companion(s) to listen to and go from there. Although, if you’re looking for a first story to try, why not start at the very beginning (a very good place to start) with the Sirens of Time.

While many Main Range stories are stand-alone, there are also some overarching plots, which are actually very companion-focussed. Trying to understand these arcs and listen to them in order can be intimidating for people looking to get into listening, however its probably simpler than you’d think.

To help you out with all of this, I have done my best to write down the stories that are probably best listened to in order, with a bit of an explanation about how it fits into TV continuity if relevant. The order is pretty easy to follow as it is pretty much just in release order. No, Big Finish did not intentionally try to confuse their audience by releasing stories out of order (okay maybe they did just a little). However I have provided the story number in brackets [like so] for clarity.

Also, to be clear, all of the arcs are self-contained, so seperate arcs don't have to be listened to in the order I've written them down in, unless I've specified otherwise (like with the Evelyn and Hex storyline).

Again, it is not super important to listen to things in order. If you are getting bored with a story or with listening in order then feel free to skip things. Maybe you could just skim the Tardis Wiki page for the plot if you like. To help, I’ve also marked any of the super plot-heavy stories with an asterix. Most other stories, especially ones that I don’t mention here are standalone and can be listened to however you like.

Also feel free to let me know if I miss anything! Happy listening :)

Fifth Doctor:

The Erimem Arc

This takes place after Planet of Fire and before Caves of Androzani, and features the Fifth Doctor, Peri and an original character called Erimem - an ancient Egyptian princess. This is a pretty good arc and one I would definitely recommend. Please feel free to skip Nekromanteia though it’s genuinely terrible.

[24] The Eye of the Scorpion*

[38] The Church and the Crown

[41] Nekromanteia

[56] The Axis of Insanity

[59] The Roof of The World

[69] Three’s a Crowd

[71] The Council of Nicaea

[81] The Kingmaker

[99] Son of the Dragon

[102a] The Mind’s Eye

[104] The Bride of Peladon*

The Key 2 Time

A trilogy featuring the Fifth Doctor and an original companion called Amy which acts as a sequel to the Key to Time. It is set between Planet of Fire and Caves of Androzani. The Fifth Doctor meets Amy again in the boxset Wicked Sisters.

[117] The Judgement of Isskar

[118] The Destroyer of Delights

[119] The Chaos Pool

The Stockbridge trilogy

Featuring The Doctor and Nyssa and set in the fictional town of Stockbridge which was first introduced in the Fifth Doctor’s DWM comics. Knowledge of that is not at all essential however. Set between Time Flight and Arc of Infinity.

[127] Castle of Fear

[128] The Eternal Summer

[129] Plague of the Daleks

The Older Nyssa Arc

This is set between Enlightenment and the King’s Demons and features Tegan, Turlough and an older Nyssa - some years after the events of Terminus.

[136] Cobwebs*

[137] The Whispering Forest

[138] The Cradle of the Snake

[146] Heroes of Sontar

[147] Kiss of Death

[148] Rat Trap

[159] The Emerald Tiger

[160] The Jupiter Conjunction

[161] The Butcher of Brisbane

[172] Eldrad Must Die!

[173] The Lady of Mercia

[174] Prisoners of Fate

[195] Mistfall

[196] Equilibrium

[197] The Entropy Plague*

The Hannah Arc

A very short trilogy featuring the Doctor, Nyssa and another original companion - Hannah - an Edwardian woman. Set sometime between Time Flight and Arc of Infinity.

[185] Moonflesh

[186] Tomb Ship

[187] Masquerade

The Season 19 Gang Arc

Set during the events of Season 19, these stories feature the original gang of the Doctor, Adric, Tegan and Nyssa.

[221] The Star Men

[222] The Contingency Club

[223] Zaltys

[234] Kingdom of Lies

[235] Ghost Walk

[236] Serpent in the Silver Mask

The Kamelion Arc

There’s not much to say about this apart from that these three are probably best listened to in this order? Set between the King's Demons and the Five Doctors (i think) and featuring Tegan, Turlough and Kamelion.

[247] Devil in the Mist

[248] Black Thursday/Power Game

[249] The Kamelion Empire

The Marc Arc

These stories follow the Doctor, Tegan, Nyssa, and an original companion Marc - a man from ancient Greece. It is set sometime between the end of Arc of Infinity and Mawdryn Undead.

[256] Tartarus*

[257] Interstitial/Feast of Fear

[258] Warzone/Conversion*

[266]Ghost Station/The Bridge Master/What Lurks Down Under/The Dancing Plague

[267]Thin Time/Madquake*

Sixth Doctor:

The Evelyn Arc

One of my favourite arcs with some great stories, and maybe where things get a little confusing. This arc features the Sixth Doctor and an original companion, Evelyn - an historian from modern-day England. Set sometime before the Sixth Doctor meets Mel I think.

This arc set up some story aspects which are explored further with the Seventh Doctor’s stories - specifically, the Forge trilogy. There are a few ways you could listen to these but to keep it simple I would also recommend listening to the Seventh Doctor story the Harvest before you listen to Thicker Than Water, and then A Death in the Family once you’ve listened to all the Evelyn stories AND the Forty-Five anthology. This could also be listened to concurrently in release order with the Hex storyline which I’ll outline a bit later.

[6] The Marian Conspiracy*

[9] The Spectre of Lanyan Moor

[11] The Apocalypse Element

[22] Bloodtide

[23] Project: Twilight*

[37] The Sandman

[40] Jubilee

[43] Doctor Who and the Pirates

[45] Project: Lazarus*

[57] Arrangements for War*

[58] The Harvest (7th Doctor)*

[60] Medicinal Purposes

[73] Thicker Than Water*

[100] 100 BC/My Own Private Wolfgang/Bedtime Story/The 100 Days of the Doctor*

[143] The Crimes of Thomas Brewster

[144] The Feast of Axos

[145] Industrial Evolution

[115] Forty-Five anthology (7th Doctor)*

[140] A Death in the Family (7th Doctor)*

You can theoretically listen to the following before or after Thicker Than Water if you want - they are sort of standalone stories with the Doctor and Evelyn:

[78] Pier Pressure

[84] The Nowhere Place

[108] Assassin in the Limelight

The Charley Arc 2.0

This is best listened to once you’ve listened to the Charley Arc with the Eighth Doctor. Featuring the Sixth Doctor and Charley.

[105] The Condemned*

[111] The Doomwood Curse

[114] Brotherhood of the Daleks

[116] The Raincloud Man

[124] Patient Zero

[125] Paper Cuts

[126] Blue Forgotten Planet*

The Flip and Constance Arc

Featuring the Sixth Doctor and two original companions, Flip - a girl from modern-day England - and Constance - a woman from World War II. Set sometime before the Doctor meets Mel.

[143] The Crimes of Thomas Brewster*

[156] The Curse of Davros

[157] The Fourth Wall

[158] Wirrn Isle

[182] Antidote to Oblivion

[183] The Brood of Erys

[225] Vortex Ice/Cortex Fire

[184] Scavenger*

[204] Criss-Cross*

[205] Planet of the Rani

[206] Shield of the Jotunn

[218] Order of the Daleks

[219] Absolute Power

[273] Colony of Fear

[220] Quicksilver*

[231] The Behemoth

[232] The Middle

[233] Static

[263] Cry of the Vultriss

[264] Scorched Earth

[265] The Lovecraft Invasion

The Older Peri trilogy

Featuring the Doctor and Peri from after she marries King Yrcanos.

[192] The Widow’s Assassin*

[193] Masters of Earth

[194] The Rani Elite

Seventh Doctor:

The Hex Arc

A great arc that sort of starts with Evelyn’s arc. I would not recommend starting this until after you’ve listened to Project: Lazarus, but maybe at least listen to The Harvest before Thicker Than Water (no stress if you don’t want to juggle listening to arcs concurrently). Features the Seventh Doctor, Ace, and an original companion from 2020s London - Hex. Set after the end of Classic Who.

[58] The Harvest*

[67] Dreamtime

[74] LIVE 34

[79] Night Thoughts

[82] The Settling

[89] No Man’s Land

[92] Nocturne

[106] The Dark Husband

[115] False Gods/Order of Simplicity/Casualties of War/The Word Lord*

[120] The Magic Mousetrap

[121] Enemy of the Daleks

[122] The Angel of Scutari*

[139] Project: Destiny*

[140] A Death in the Family*

[141] Lurkers at Sunlight’s Edge

[149] Robophobia (side note: this is our introduction to Liv Chenka who is one of the Eighth Doctor’s main companions from Dark Eyes onwards).

[151] The Doomsday Quatrain

[152] House of Blue Fire*

[162] Protect and Survive*

[163] Black and White*

[164] Gods and Monsters*

[181] Afterlife*

[189] Revenge of the Swarm

[190] Mask of Tragedy

[191] Signs and Wonders

Also at some point before or after the Angel of Scutari you can listen to the following as they are standalone stories:

[226] Shadow Planet/World Apart

[245] Muse of Fire

[268] The Flying Dutchman/Displaced

The Klein Arc

An Arc featuring The Seventh Doctor and an original character, Klein - a woman from 1940s Germany. Set after the end of Classic Who.

[25] Colditz*

[130] A Thousand Tiny Wings

[131] Klein’s Story/Survival of the Fittest

[132] The Architects of History

[175] Persuasion

[176] Starlight Robbery

[177] Daleks Among Us

Klein is also involved in the final story of the Daniel trilogy which spans the Fifth, Sixth and Seventh Doctors.

Eighth Doctor:

The Charley Arc 1.0

The best Main Range arc in my opinion. If you listen to anything, listen to this. Featuring the Eighth Doctor and original companion Charley, with another original companion C’rizz in Part 2 of the arc.

Part 1:

[16] Storm Warning*

[17] Sword of Orion

[18] The Stones of Venice

[19] Minuet in Hell

[28] Invaders from Mars

[29] The Chimes of Midnight

[30] Seasons of Fear

[31] Embrace the Darkness

[32] The Time of the Daleks

[33] Neverland*

[50] Zagreus*

Part 2:

[52] Scherzo*

[53] The Creed of the Kromon* (TW for sexual assault in the Creed of the Kromon. Feel free to stop listening after episode one or just read the Tardis Wiki page for relevant plot info)

[54] The Natural History of Fear

[55] The Twilight Kingdom

[61] Faith Stealer

[62] The Last

[63] Caerdroia

[64] The Next Life*

[72] Terror Firma

[75] Scaredy Cat

[77] Other Lives

[80] Time Works

[83] Something Inside

[88] Memory Lane

[101] Absolution*

[103] The Girl Who Never Was*

The Mary Shelley arc

A short arc featuring the Eighth Doctor and Mary Shelley! Yes, that Mary Shelley.

[123d] Mary’s Story*

[153] The Silver Turk

[154] The Witch from the Well

[155] Army of Death

Multi-doctor arcs:

These are mostly trilogies featuring stories which Big Finish probably mostly intended to be listened to together.

The Forge trilogy

Relevant to the Evelyn and Hex arcs - best listened to in conjunction with the rest of their stories.

[23] Project: Twilight (Sixth Doctor)

[45] Project: Lazarus (Sixth Doctor/Seventh Doctor)

[139] Project: Destiny (Seventh Doctor)

The Villains Trilogy

[47] Omega (Fifth Doctor)

[48] Davros (Sixth Doctor)

[49] Master (Seventh Doctor)

The Harvest/TheReaping/The Gathering trilogy

^^^ I’m naming it that because the other name I’d give it would be a big spoiler lol (if you saw me forget the Harvest out of this no you didn’t)

[58] The Harvest (Seventh Doctor)

[86] The Reaping (Sixth Doctor)

[87] The Gathering (Fifth Doctor)

The Brewster Arc

Thomas Brewster is also vaguely relevant to the events of Stranded with the Eighth Doctor but it’s not really important.

[107] The Haunting of Thomas Brewster (Fifth Doctor)

[113] Time Reef/A Perfect World (Fifth Doctor)

[143] The Crimes of Thomas Brewster (Sixth Doctor)

[144] The Feast of Axos (Sixth Doctor)

[145] Industrial Evolution (Sixth Doctor)

The Sorsha trilogy

[165] The Burning Prince (Fifth Doctor)

[166] The Acheron Pulse (Sixth Doctor)

[167] The Shadow Heart (Seventh Doctor)

The 1963 trilogy

These don’t really have an overarching plot as far as I can remember, they were just released as part of the 50th anniversary.

[178] 1963: Fanfare for the Common Men (Fifth Doctor)

[179] 1963: The Space Race (Sixth Doctor)

[180] 1963: The Assassination Games (Seventh Doctor)

The Companions Trilogy

[198] The Defectors (Seventh Doctor)

[199] Last of the Cybermen (Sixth Doctor)

[200] The Secret History (Fifth Doctor)

The Master trilogy

[211] And You Will Obey Me (Fifth Doctor)

[212] Vampire of the Mind (Sixth Doctor)

[213] The Two Masters (Seventh Doctor)

The Daniel trilogy

[237] The Helliax Rift (Fifth Doctor)

[240] Hour of the Cybermen (Sixth Doctor)

[244] Warlock’s Cross (Seventh Doctor) (Klein is in this one if you want to listen to her arc beforehand)

Edit/addendum:

If you’re like me, you’ve maybe been intrigued by Main Range from seeing/hearing other fans talk about some of the excellent stories there are. Personally, when I am struggling getting through a series, it helps to have a specific story or episode to look forward to. As such, here are a few of my personal favourites from the above list that are definitely worth waiting for (at least in my humble opinion):

5th Doctor:

- Warzone/Conversion

6th Doctor:

- Jubilee

- Doctor Who and the Pirates

- Arrangements for War

7th Doctor:

- Afterlife

- Master

8th Doctor:

- Seasons of Fear

- Zagreus

- Scherzo

- The Natural History of Fear

#doctor who #doctor who extended universe #dweu #classic who #whoniverse #fifth doctor #sixth doctor #seventh doctor #eighth doctor #charlotte pollard #charley pollard #hex schofield #evelyn smythe #main range #audio dramas #big finish #audio drama

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miyasturniolo · 2 months

Text

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST | nick sturniolo

pairing: bsf!nick x f!reader

summary: where you and nick have been spending the whole day together and tried to find a film but at the end, the two of you decided to listen to the playlist that you both created.

warning: fluff (??), use of y/n, swearing.

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. this is short and simple but I wanted to make a nick one.

WORDS: 0.9k

miyasturniolo on wattpad

you - pink | nick - purple

You and Nick spent the whole day shopping because he needed to find a new shirt after Chris spilled a drink on him since he would find it funny.

Now though you were in Nick's room, he was eating the pizza he picked up on the way home so the two of you could share, while you were going through the items you had purchased.

You didn't buy much because you didn't find many things you liked, which may have been because you had money with you. It always seems that whenever you don't have money, you come across the best shops.

"Do you want another slice?" Nick asked, as he was on his second slice while you had only eaten one. You nodded, folded the clothes you had bought, and put them in the bag.

"Yeah," you smiled before taking a slice. You were pleased with the toppings he chose since you enjoyed them, and so did he.

While eating, Nick scrolled through some movies on his laptop, as neither of you knew where the TV remote was. "These movies are so fucking boring. I swear on my life I've seen them all," he complained.

You chuckled and playfully rolled your eyes slightly before meeting his gaze, then shifting your attention back to the laptop he was using.

"Not all of these are boring, you know?" you remarked upon coming across some films you'd seen before but found amazing. He simply shook his head and glanced at you.

"If you don't find these boring, you're boring," he teased before switching to a different app for movies, yet they seemed to be more of the same, with a few extra films that were rather lackluster.

As rain began to patter against the window, you were so engrossed in the food and his movie choices that you hadn't even noticed.

"You've skipped over some really good films," you noted, to which he chuckled, acknowledging that he had, but expressing a desire to find something new and promising.

"Well, y/n, I'm trying to find a great movie we haven't seen yet," he declared, grabbing another slice of pizza from the box and munching on it while using his free hand to browse through the movie options on his laptop.

You had a feeling you would be staying here for years, so you tried to come up with some ideas before sitting up suddenly, which prompted him to look at you in confusion at your swift movement.

"Why don’t we create a Spotify playlist?" you suggested to your friend. He simply looked at you, then closed his laptop to avoid looking through films.

He smiled and nodded, then sat up from his bed, not as quickly as you did, and opened Spotify.

You both shared some similar music tastes, but also had some differences. There were songs you both enjoyed and others that only one of you liked.

"Okay, but what should we name it and which songs should we include?" he inquired, while you both took a moment to think and decide.

As the minutes passed and turned into hours, the rain continued to fall, steadily increasing in intensity, providing a comforting backdrop for your collaboration.

You added a mix of both your favorite songs, as well some that were more to your liking than his but he did the same, reflecting your diverse music preferences.

The playlist was over three hours long, but neither of you really paid much attention as you both just kept adding more and more songs you both liked.

As you both finished, the sky had turned dark blue, signaling that night was approaching. You leaned back on the pillows and glanced at the empty pizza box, reflecting on how much you had both eaten, until he broke the silence.

“That’s all I can think of, how about you?” he asked. You just looked at the playlist, scrolling through the songs before speaking. “Yeah.. can’t think of anything else”

He seemed pleased too. You used to have a playlist, but it was filled with songs that now seemed cringeworthy or overplayed. Creating a new one, one that he could enjoy listening to now, made him happy, and it did the same for you.

You rested your head on Nick's shoulder once he lay down on his bed and he wrapped his arm around you, then reached into his drawer to grab his AirPods instead of headphones.

“Should we give it a listen?” he asked with a grin, handing you an AirPod. You chuckled and nodded before taking it just in time for him to start playing the playlist you had spent hours creating together.

masterlist! guidelines & information! wattpad! socials!

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enviedear · 10 months

Note

i saw you said something about ex!anakin and i crave that pleeeeease 😇

request

omg thank god someone wanted this! lmao live laugh love exbf!ani

ex!anakin skywalker...

₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ who shows up to your apartment early as possible in the morning because he knows you're more likely to open the door. he likes how drowsy and needy you look. even though it's not for him, because of him, he loves seeing you that way. he'll beg for just a little of your time

'just breakfast. i'll pay.'

₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ and he'd insist on waiting for you to dress up. he wouldn't mind if you didn't, he truly does just want to spend time with you, but the idea that you'll still dress up for him. yeah, he enjoys that a bit too much. and god, will he treat you. if you're walking to breakfast, he's stopping street vendors and practically begging you to let him buy you something

'please, honey? it'd look so cute in your apartment.' or 'let me pick you out a bouquet, okay? for my pretty girl.'

₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ and it won't matter how many times you explain, show, or tell him that you aren't 'his' in any kind of way— he'll still act just the same. if he's driving though, he'd make a big show of putting on your most recent spotify playlist. truthfully its the only reason you don't block him on it. all other apps, however, he is blocked. his messages are muted and barely get answered, but he still never stops. anakin is so dedicated to you that most people think you're still together, maybe just one of those 'lowkey' couples. at breakfast, anakin will urge you to order your favorite cocktail

'you deserve it! one drink won't hurt, baby.'

₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ and you listen almost every time. your time with him is never only relegated to breakfast though. he'll make up anything just to keep you around; you need to get groceries? anakin can take you. you need new shoes? anakin can buy them. you have an appointment? anakin's offering to take you. he once sat at the dmv with you for an entire day just to be near you. you'll play into it, because you figure you deserve it. payback for how inconsistent and absent he was in an actual relationship.

'why couldn't you have remembered i liked this when i was actually dating you?' 'oh baby, it's 'cause i'm stupid'

—anakin skywalker would be the best ex.

#anakin and reader #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker angst #anakin angst #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #sw anakin #exboyfriend!anakin

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carmenized-onions · 4 months

Text

The Other Shoe | Consultation

logline; old wounds tend not to heal, if you don't let them. but, there is hot chocolate, and love. so perhaps that's enough.

[!!!] series history, this is the seventh; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. Finally got Hozier on here. Don't know how that took me so long.

portion; 3.1k

possible allergies; two absolutely garbage mental states of people who are NOT over Mikey or the way they've been treated. Bunch of self-loathin, the whole lot.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns!)

Took me a minute, new jobs goin' well though!! This one took a lot of stewing, lmao. Lot of staring and thinking. We'll talk after, but SO many alterations were made lmao.

It has been three weeks since you met Carmen in a freezer.

Six days since you were at his apartment. Ish.

Roughly forty-three weeks since the worst day of your life. Doesn’t feel like it.

In five days, you’ll have the second— Well, maybe third or fourth, worst day of your life.

But today is Monday, and you don’t know what’s coming yet.

It’s just after one in the morning, and you wake up to a phone call. Carmy. Yes, do not disturb was on. Yes, you’d set him on priority access— Which most people would find very cute and intimate, and it is— But he’s not the only one. It’s not a limited feature for people you want to kiss. There’s Syd, Richie, …Mikey…

Cause when is the right time to delete a dead friend’s contact info? It’s not right now. You know it’s not right now. And it probably won’t be tomorrow, either.

Phone call. You’re getting a phone call.

“Carm?”

“…”

You stir a little, bit, when there’s no reply, brain dehazing. “Carmy? Everything okay?”

You hear the beep of the phone call being ended. No way he butt-dialed you, right? You’re awake. You’re so awake. This feels all too familiar, and that's not a good thing. You immediately open your phone to text him, by the time you get to his contact, he’s already texted you. Actively texting you, in a rapid, manic succession.

‘fuck’

‘sorry’

‘you were supposed to be asleep’

Hm.

‘talking to a person hard right now?’

‘yes’

‘you’re so smart.’

‘easier to talk to robot you.’

‘wowwww’

It’s hard to write funny, right now. It’s hard to act like yourself, right now. You’re not sure how you’re doing it.

‘not what I meant’

‘I know. You’re you.’

‘you wanna send a voice message maybe?’

‘it’s fine. I’ll text.’

You give him time, you expect a paragraph since he’s taking so long, but instead you get,

‘can’t.’

‘carmen.’

‘I like you so much.’ Oh be still your stupid heart.

‘feeling is mutual.’

‘I can’t make my problems the only reason I talk to you’

Is that true? Fuck, that's kind of true, isn't it? But there's the puzzles! And there's been phone calls!

‘You talk to me for other reasons’

‘yeah. But it’s mostly problems’

‘with me.’

‘eh. Not really. Walk-in was you, toilet was Mikey, Nat had a baby, I’d consider the oven a shared problem of you and Syd’

‘oven was my fault’

He types for even longer this time. It’s hard not to interrupt him. When you start to type, he sends.

‘can I come over?’

‘I know it’s late’

‘I’ll come pick you up.’

‘no’

‘I’ll walk. I’ll be there in 20.’

‘it’s not a problem to pick you up.’ It's a problem if he doesn't let you pick him up.

‘I know.’

‘promise I just wanna walk. Get air.’

God, why are your fucking hands shaking he just wants to walk. He just wants to walk. Why can’t you bring yourself to believe people when they say that anymore?

Everything’s normal. It’s been a good six days for Carm, you know that it’s been a good six days. Everything's normal. You’ve kept a puzzle streak every morning, you’ve called him some nights, he’s called you some nights. He’s had a good week. He told you so. Everything's normal. You’ve vaguely flirted in that extremely sexual yet completely nonsensical way new situationships do, via text. People don’t do that when they’re on the brink of death, right? Everything's normal. Stop playing with your pendant. Relax. Put a shirt on. Stop being so fucking paranoid. Stop typing—!

‘can you do me a favour’

‘anything’

‘can you turn your location on for me’

‘not to be invasive. You can turn it off when you get here, I—’

Before you can even finish typing your explanation, let alone send it, he sends his location, trackable. He’s already walking.

‘be there in 18.’

You watch, with bated breath, his little contact photo bubble marching across Chicago to you. You make yourself mildly presentable and make hot chocolate on the stove—Gotta use milk, for Carmen— For when he comes to you, out of the cold. Because he’s going to come to you. He’s gonna be here. He’s gonna be here. You know that because you’ve been keeping your phone screen open and only look away to ensure you don’t pour milk on your stovetop and to blink.

He's here in eighteen minutes. You think if you had a stop watch going on, it’d be down to the millisecond. You open the door for him, before he can even knock. You watched his bubble walk up to your door. No point in waiting. You need to see him.

He’s breathing heavy. Held tight in his fist is a bundle of flowers— Importantly, not a bouquet, a bundle of flowers—Like, roots still on a few, visibly yanked out of the ground. Though seemingly from different gardens, since there's quite a variety. He looks at you, then down at the flowers, then back to you.

“I— I stole these.”

“Had a feeling.” You wave your hand for him to come inside, he does. “Are you okay?”

His steps falter, he seems downtrodden. You take the flowers, and then take his hand. He hesitates to speak, but he’s really trying to say fucking something. You squeeze his hand, it seems to help.

“I—” He swallows the spit caught in his throat. “I didn’t know— I— No. No, I did know— I knew the one place I had to come was, here. Had to go somewhere.”

You nod, you look over him. Silently doing a wellness check. You’re panicked. You’re so panicked. But he can’t know that. This is about him. You’re the one that takes care of people. He’s clean. He smells like Old Spice and you. He’s a little cold from the walk, he didn’t wear a jacket, but he’s warming up fast. He looks tired but not exhausted, which, for Carmy, is kind of as good as you’re going to get. He didn’t have the energy for a phone call, but he had the energy to come over and talk to your face; his social battery is wonky, but that’ll fix with time here. Is he hungry? That’s hard to tell on looks alone.

“You wanna talk about it, Bear?”

He nods, head down. Can’t look at you. You gently pull at his hand for him to follow you into the kitchen. “Made hot chocolate. You a marshmallow or whipped cream guy?”

His eyes are glassy, and his mood itself doesn’t change, but he does swiftly lift his head up to look at you with an incredulous, curious half smile. “You don’t do both?”

“I find it gets a lil’ busy. But I like the tiny marshmallows that come with the mix with whipped cream—”

“You gotta do actual cocoa.”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t like my hot chocolate to actually be rich. I want sweet.”

“You’re breaking my heart.”

“Good thing I’m a repairman, then.” You deadpan. He does actually seem to glow a little bit, at that. You repeat, hand full of flowers resting on your hip. “So both?”

“Both.”

He calms you down so easily, even when really, he was the oncoming stress— Or rather, your perceptions. He clears static for you, without effort. You nod, letting go of his hand— Slowly, withdrawing, like a silent promise that you will be back. You grab a paper towel and wrap the flowers in them, setting them down on the counter. You’ll plant them later. Honestly, kind of a better gift for you and your green thumb than a bouquet would be.

You turn to your oven to stir the pot of hot chocolate— Can’t have any fuckin’ clumps for Mr Michelin over here. Speaking of Michelin, he sidles up behind you and puts his head on your shoulder, hands hovering as if he’s going to hug your waist but simply cannot bring himself to.

He mumbles into your shoulder. “I lit my oven on fire.”

Ah. The oven was his fault. That's what he meant. When you pause and try to turn, that’s when he hugs you, holding you in place. “Please don’t look ‘t me.”

You take a deep breath, and continue to stir the pot. “Okay. I’m listening, not looking.”

“I did— I did it in my sleep. Not the first time. I think, I think they’re night terrors? But I don’t, don’t scream or nothin’— I don’t say shit actually. I don’t think.”

God, he’s insecure, even now, about how crazy you’ll think he is. Like telling your therapist everything that’s wrong with you except for the stuff that they might hospitalize you for. God, does he treat you like a fucking therapist? He’s awful. He’s awful for you. He’s awful for anyone. It doesn’t matter that you’re different— The common denominator is him. He’s a fucking piece of shit—

“I wake up screaming sometimes.” You reply, so softly. You feel his short nails dig into your sides just slightly for a second as he remembers where he is. He’s over your shoulder. No one’s over his. “Happens to the worst of us.”

You grab two mugs from the cupboard— Reaching with the arm he’s not leaning on. “Did you put it out or should I be calling my former C-F-D crew?”

“I put it out.” He notes your mugs. They’re mismatching. One is definitely handmade with messy floral patterns, the other a tourist trap Chicago mug. They’re perfect. “I—I was cooking something, in my sleep— And then— Then the fire starts.”

You ladle the hot chocolate into the mugs— Usually you’d just pour it straight but you don’t want Carmen to watch you inevitably spill half of it on your counters. You nod, “Do you dream that you’re cooking?”

“K-Kinda? I’m not cooking, I’m the Head, the expediter— And, and my Exec is over my fucking shoulder and he’s— Just in my head.” He swallows, thinking of how to explain without explaining. “And then I wake up, and there’s a fire, and I watch it grow, and I think about what it would mean if I just let it, and how I’d want it to.”

“And then you put it out?”

“And then I put it out.”

“Do you wish you didn’t?”

“I don’t know. And it’s fucking with me. ‘Cause— ‘Cause things are really good right now.” You tense under him, and he knows it’s because you don’t believe him. “They are, they really really are. Sug bein’ away is… not easy, but, it’s, it’s okay—”

“Carm.” Your tone is so accusatory.

“It’s the same nightmare it used to be.” He doesn’t hesitate to correct as soon as you question it. He cannot lie to you. For one, you see right through him. For two, it’s you. You’d rather know he’s insane. For some reason. “It’s been hard. I— I know fuck all, about business, and, and we can’t afford to hire a fuckin’ replacement right now because we owe so much fucking money or the whole thing caves— But it’s— It’s been good.”

You grab a handful of mini marshmallows, splitting them between the two mugs. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nods into your shoulder. “Everyone is… happy, right now. It’s not always fuckin’ breezy but— Everyone’s, everyone’s okay. And I have somethin’ I can actually be proud of, right now. And I have— I — You’re around. N’ that, that has been good. For everyone.”

You hum. Heart full, at that. You awkwardly shift to your fridge, waddling like a penguin instead of turning, as not to disturb Carmen, he chuckles against your shoulder. “You can tell me to fuck off, y’know.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to.” You hug his arm to you. This makes him squeeze just a little tighter. You pull out a half-empty can of Reddi-Wip, shaking it violently, as instructed. “Say when.”

You hover the can over the tourist mug, he shakes his head. “Other one.”

He wants the handmade one. Your fingerprints are grooved into the handle. You ignore how insane this makes you feel, and spray whipped cream into the handmade mug. You’re waiting for him to say when.

It’s getting to a concerningly tall pile, at this point. You feel him swallow. He finally says the quiet thought out loud.

“I think I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even in my sleep, I know it’s coming.”

You nod, you stop spraying. You think on it for a beat. You opt to be honest. “I am, too.” You nod. “I am, too.”

“What’d’you think it’s gonna be?”

You feel your neck flare red and hot, guilty. Horrifically guilty. Lifesaver. You spray whipped cream into your own mug. You don’t really want both whipped cream and marshmallows, but it’s a good way to disguise how shaky your hands are. You take a deep breath.

“Think you’re gonna realize I’m not as good as you think I am.”

He kind of, tugs at you, pulling you closer to him, as if to rebuke thee. “You’re very good, Tony.”

You just hum in reply, once again, the pile of whip cream grows— It sputters, and basically nothing is coming out, but you can’t bring yourself to move, so it continues to struggle. He lets you do this, for a moment, before softly, questioningly speaking your name.

You just hum, again. Everything’s fine. Everything’s normal. This isn’t even about you, this is about him. “I’m good.”

“You are.” He declares, like it’s law. He grabs the empty can from you hand and puts it on the counter, then turns you around to face him. You keep your head down, there’s every chance you throw up and die if you— “Look at me.”

“I know—” He does not give you the chance to excuse yourself, he grabs your chin, softly, but still, forces you to look at him.

“You’re very good.” Too much eye contact. Too close. Too sincere. Too much— “Too good, too good for anyone.”

Too good for him. You, of course, don’t think that. But that’s exactly why you’re too good. “I’m not gonna change my mind ‘bout that.”

“…Hope so.”

Carmen can see it, now. The way your jaw clenches, how you’re looking past him, not at him. The way you mirror how he imagines he looked in the walk-in, to you. He decides to take a page out of your book, and hugs you close. “Know so.”

Your chin hooks over his shoulder. You stare down the hall of your apartment, brain somewhere else. He stares over your shoulder at the hot chocolates, whipped cream slowly melting and overflowing onto the counters.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, and you can’t help but smile at the ridiculousness of it.

“I—It’s not—This about you, not me—”

“It’s both. It can be both.” The shared burden.

You sigh, putting your arms around his shoulders. “…I’ll talk about it eventually, I promise. Just not… Ready—Right now.” You’re not ready to risk him no longer liking you. You need a little more time to be selfishly avoidant. “Eventually, though.”

He nods. He gets it. He does it.

“How do you think the other shoe’s gonna drop? If it does?”

This was the exact question he didn’t want, but you answered it, kind of, and that means he has to answer it, kind of. He relaxes his hold on you. “Think you’re gonna see me when I’m— When I’m not me— When I’m— I’m like, like my fuckin’ family.”

When he’s angry. When he yells. When he’s mean. When his crises don’t take the form of hibernation. When he’s frightening.

“Think once you realize, you’ll leave, and it’ll all leave with you.”

When he said that everyone’s happy at The Bear, he knows it’s because you’re back in the atmosphere. You bring a lightness that he never could, that he always envied in his brother. He honestly needs to break something at The Bear to get you to come in soon, because it’s been two weeks since you made everyone coffee, and your presence is only finally starting to wain in power. He really needs to start paying himself so you can get on bar.

“I don’t love being yelled at, certainly.”

You know what acting like his family means. Mikey used to do it. When things got bad. And while you got better and better at being understanding, still never managed to keep yourself from tearing up. “But it’s nothing that would make me leave. Nothing that’s not worth it.”

Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ. His bad side, his anger, his violence, his teeth, the parts of his functionality that he hates, you consider worth dealing with, for the sake of the rest of him.

It reminds him, of a question that’s been on his mind for a while now. His chin digs into your shoulder, a little bit. He swallows.

“Do you really not think taking care of people is a lot of work?”

You frown, thinking about it. It is a lot of work. It’s exhausting work, rotten work, to take care of people.

“It is a lot of work.” You tilt your head, kiss his clothed shoulder. “But it’s just pure instinct, to do. “I care therefore I care, or somethin’.”

“What a poet.”

“Fuck off.”

You both laugh; then comfortable silence. He’s the first to break it. “You’re good.”

“We’re both good.” You pull back to look at him. Nothing has truly been resolved, and yet he looks more at peace. Thank, God. You’re doing a good job. You’re not failing again. “You wanna go drink these barely warm hot chocolates in my bed and pass out?”

“Please.”

Carmen never turns off his location, and he never will. He doesn't ask why you want it. He takes advantage of the whipped cream on your nose and the severe lack of napkins in your bedroom when he can. He replaces the Cubs jersey wearing bear in your arms, that night. He hopes he will forever, he's pretty sure he won't.

In five days, this Friday will be the worst Friday of your lives.

But neither of you know that yet. The painting is still not finished, he hasn’t yelled at anyone around you yet, Carmen still doesn’t know about the necklace you’ve tucked under your shirt every day for the past year.

The other shoe still hangs in the air; but not in your bed.

You pray it’s fall will not wake the bear.

FUCK bro.

It was tough writing in a way that was coherently incoherent. Like, neither of these two want to talk about their problems, so they are vague, but I know what the fuck is going on-- And hopefully you kindddaaa get what's going on?? There's still a little mystery I'm holding on for myself, hehehe. I'm very curious if anyone has theories by now tbh. What's this hidden part of Tony's life!!! They're usually so open!!! So what's this shit!!!

I cut out like a WHOLE 300 words of them doin' a smooch because it just made no fuckin' sense. They're both in emotional hell, couldn't force it, even if I wanted it. But there was the cuddlin' and nose kissin' in bed. So I think that's a good caveat.

But the most insane part of this chapter for me, and you'll see later, THIS chapter and the next,,,,, 3 chapters? Were all gonna be ONE. I know. Nuts. I was essentially gonna format it like all snippets of this one week, because as we know, Fridays gonna be the worst friday! But I realized like a quarter way through writing this one, that it simply couldn't just be a snippet. It needed to breath as it's own full thing. As did the next 3 chaps. I think they'll be a lot more digestable this way and also it won't force me to hole away for a fuckin month writing it without giving you a single morsel of content.

Anyways, tell me what the fuck you THOUGHT!! I'm excited to hear thoughts, hopefully all good ones~~~

Next Part

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto x oc #carmy the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear x reader #the bear

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