#i still like it don't get me wrong it's not all bad

[carmenized-onions]

Loosen Your Grip. | R & D

logline; even when it seems counter-intuitive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

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

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

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

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

Gratitude. Highlight reel?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s snowing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I got it, T, just spot me—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you good?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? What’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want the old one?”

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

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

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

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

“I know it didn’t! That’s the point!”

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

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

“...And you want that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So where should I send flowers?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just— We’ll talk eventually—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I account for a thousand dollars?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Microgreens.” Says Syd. 

“Yes. Do less of that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cicero.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I think the chargers are kinda stupid.”

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

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

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

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

“You got somethin’ better?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A lot high.” He corrects.

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

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

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

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

“Does he now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your options are fucked.”

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

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

“What’s the main cost on R and D?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods, “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A short amount of time, angel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, we probably wouldn’t go, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s in charge of farmer’s market.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Buying is insanely overpriced.” Answers Computer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Adamu?!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...I’ll do it for eight—”

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

She sighs, “Trying to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Con. Same.”

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

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

“No shit I wear underwear!”

“Okay! It’s important to note!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Crime is bad in January.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yessir.”

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

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

“Oh come the fuck on, Jack-Off!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I could do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds fucked.”

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

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

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

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

“Tricks?”

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

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

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

He’s the best? 

He’s the best. 

He’s the best. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d agree.”

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

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

“Loosen your grip, Carmy.”

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

“Come to dinner with us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[backinmyphase]

Not my honeymoon

Synopsis: A household of an arranged marriage with Gojo Satoru wasn't easy. And as the pressure from the higher ups was becoming more and more there was something to discuss. Your honeymoon.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3000 words

Not really satisfied with this but I hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist!

"Are you okay, Gojo?"

No, he was definitely not. He wasn't since all of this started. Since he was destined to marry you. But now as he looked at you it was a different kind of not okay.

What did he do???

You looked sad, no, devastated. Ever since you two ate breakfast together every morning, he thought you would look more relaxed. Maybe even comfortable.

But you seemed to put up a barrier everytime he asked something. And then there was the name.

You still called him Gojo. Even though you were now named the same.

You so carefully kept your distance and you had this sad look in your eyes.

He was worried.

"Yeah, of course." he returned to eating his breakfast. After a bit of silence he opened his mouth again and was surprised he could speak.

"Are you? You look tense."

Your body tensed up again as you looked at him and he wanted to punch himself. He made you uncomfortable, didn't he?

"I am, no worries." you didn't raise your head.

Where did his confidence go? His charisma? His social skills?

Something about his wife made all these so important and natural things dissappear.

The silence spoke loud and the sounds of the eating didn't cover enough of it.

This silence wasn't unusual. In fact it was almost always there when you ate breakfast together. So all the time you saw each other.

And no, he didn't like it. For some reason, on which Satoru couldn't put his finger on, he desperately wanted to know you. He wanted to make peace with you, maybe even be friends with you.

But you seemed so untouchable, he couldn't describe it.

"Well…" Satoru cringed at the sound of his voice. "I have to go to work now."

He stood up and made his way to the door where he made himself ready. "See you later. Have a nice da-"

"Wait, Gojo." Your voice sounded so hesitant, it scared him. "Can we talk later?"

As he looked at you, his whole mind went blank. He felt like he was gonna die. Why did you look at him like that? What did you wanna talk about? Why not now?

"Sure, I can try to come home earlier." He tried to keep his voice steady, but his whole strongest being was shaking in fear.

"Great." you nodded with a neutral look that did NOT scream 'Great'. "Then have a good day at work."

"Thank you, you have a nice day too."

He was going to die, wasn't he?

~

"You look like a corpse." Suguru was always soo considerate.

Satoru sighed as he sat down next to his friend. "Just give me the missions."

His best friend raised an eyebrow. "You know, you should attend the meetings for a change. I'm not always gonna be able to get your missions for you."

"Yeah, you are right Suguru, what would I ever do without you? You are such a good friend." Satoru yawned as he waved his hand.

"Would you please be so kind and enlighten me where I have to be today?"

"I'm going to overlook that sarcasm for today." Suguru handed him a piece of paper. "Here's the list for today."

As Satoru looked at the very long list in horror, Suguru spoke again. "But for real, you look terrible. I thought things were going fine in your marriage?"

"Of course they want me working overtime today." Satoru groaned. "I swear one day I will make all of the higher ups-"

"Satoru, what's wrong?"

He stopped in his rant and sighed. "She wants to talk."

Suguru raised his eyebrow again. "And that's bad, why exactly?"

"Because she always looks like I killed her pet or something like that!" Satoru whined and looked at his paper.

"She doesn't like me."

Suguru shrugged with his shoulders. "I mean, you still didn't apologize."

As Satoru didn't say anything, Suguru continued. "And you also don't really talk to her. How can you expect her to like you yet?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Satoru whispered. Holding his list up, he begged Suguru. "Can you take some of my missions? Please?"

Shacking his head, suguru laughed. "That one time was an exception, I had to work three days in a row for that Satoru. I'm sorry but I have lots of missions too. It's the season."

Satoru just nodded. He had seen this coming.

30 missions in only 12 hours?

It would be a challenge. And it would cause him a little trouble.

But would he give up?

He smiled to himself.

~

You didn't have any time anymore.

The letters of your mother became overbearing, asking where you and Gojo will go for your honeymoon. Asking, that you have surely talked with him about it?

No, you didn't. In fact you were too nervous to even look at him.

You were relieved that he didn't seem to despise you, since he and you ate together now. But he also didn't talk to you and that made you question yourself.

Did he even want to talk?

You needed more time. So much more time. How could they all expect, that you could just sleep with him?

No that just was absurd.

"Mrs. Gojo? How are you feeling today?"

Hina really liked you over the time. Her smile somehow made all of this a bit lighter.

How could you survive a week without her? Just with your husband and the pressure to do something?

"Alright. How are you feeling?" you smiled back, trying to hide your nervousness.

"Perfect, like always." She answered right away, bowing a bit. "Would you like a snack?"

You chuckled a bit. "I can get myself a snack, Hina, you really don't have to."

She shook her head. "Nonsense, it is my job to make you food." She smiled at you knowingly. "And I also get paid for it."

You laughed a bit. "Well, I think my husband will keep paying you even when you make me a snack less."

"If you think so Mrs. Gojo." she made a little curtsy and laughed as she went into the kitchen.

You smiled to yourself as you looked after her. You would miss her on your honeymoon.

Oh god the honeymoon…

~

"Could you please just die?!" Gojo was annoyed as fuck as the curse before him just kept sneaking into barriers and hiding from him.

Normally he wouldn't be this mad.

But he had to be home in time today. And as the curse escaped a crazy laugh at him his anger only rose.

His finger twitched. He wanted to just open his domain and make puddle of this pathetic being. But there were still people near and it would be a bit overkill.

So he had to work with red and blue.

And he had to be fast.

"Gojo Satoruuuhuuuuuu." the distorted voice of the curse spoke underneath him. So smugly, that Satoru felt like laughing.

"Found you."

Hollow purple.

As the cursed energy of the curse slowly disappeared Satoru looked at his list. Still 4 curses in 4 locations. And only 30 minutes till 9 pm.

He had to be faster. Before you would think he didn't care.

If there was just one more stupid barrier, he swore he would-

Goddammit.

~

It was almost 8:51 as you thought you should just eat and go to sleep.

Maybe you would find the courage to talk to him tomorrow too and everything would be fine.

Maybe.

"Should we serve dinner, Mrs. Gojo?" Hina looked at you and waited patiently for your answer.

And as you looked at her something in you switched.

"Wait. My husband isn't home yet, we will wait for him."

Hina chuckled and nodded. She smiled knowingly as she went into the kitchen.

You looked at the clock. 8:56 pm.

You sighed as you sat there. Playing with your glass, you wondered.

Would Gojo even want a honeymoon?

If he didn't, that would be a problem. The higher ups were persistent of you two going somewhere in japan to have 'enough time'.

Your glass seemed to shake, nerarly breaking.

What would you do? What would you tell them? What, what, what-

Forcefully the door opened and Gojo stood there.

A Gojo stained with blood, his blindfold pulled down, looking at you with big eyes.

"What did you want to talk-"

"Why are you bloody-"

You talked at the same time, looking confused at each other. You waited for an answer, as he looked at you confused.

"What do you mean, bloody?" he looked down. Then his eyes widened and he chuckled. "Oh, you don't have to worry, it's not mine."

What did he mean 'don't worry'? He looked like he was out of a horror movie!

Perplexed you looked at him. "Is this all from the curses-?"

"Anyway you wanted to talk?" only now he closed the door behind him.

You blinked at him. Two times. Three times. Then you looked down. "Yeah. But if you are to tired, we can also talk tomorrow -" or the day after, or the day after that day, or…

"I'm not too tired, don't worry." He looked behind you at the empty table. "Did you already eat?"

Just as you wanted to answer, Hina stepped in and took the opportunity to speak. "Mrs. Gojo, now that Mr. Gojo is here, should we serve the food?"

You looked at her and just nodded.

"Well, then." Gojo clapped one time. "We can talk as we eat, right? Then let's sit down."

He took your chair and you wanted to ask what he wanted to do, as he pulled it and offered you the seat. You just sat down and muttered a small thanks.

He smiled, he smiled?, and went to his seat on the opposite side of the table looking at you full of expectation.

Your mind was blank. All the words you so carefully constructed to sentences were all gone. The only thing in your head was the question:

What if Gojo didn't want a honeymoon?

"You waited for me to eat?"

You looked up to Gojo and he smiled at you again. Since when was he so talkative??

"Yeah, I did."

Your voice was much more quiet as you wanted. But he didn't seem to mind as he looked at you with that sparkle in his eyes.

Or maybe his eyes always looked like that.

"Thank you. But you don't have to do that. Most of the time I work much too long for you to stay up and not eat."

"Well, maybe we could still eat dinner together sometimes."

Your mouth spoke without your permission and his widening smile made your head dizzy.

"Your food. We hope you enjoy your meal." Hina placed dinner onto the table bowed a bit and then went into the kitchen as fast as she could.

"Soooooo." Gojo looked down at his food. "What did you wanna talk about?"

"Well…" you stopped, weighing your options of what you could say. Oh, just say it. "I wanted to discuss your honeymoon."

As you looked up you saw two big blue eyes blinking at you. "Our honeymoon? Ohhhhhhhhhhhh"

His shoulders visibly starting to relax as he sighed of relief. A smile forming on his lips again. "Whew, I thought I did something wrong. You had me scared, you know."

"I had you scared?" you looked at him in disbelief. "You came in like a madman covered in blood!"

"Oh, trust me." Gojo leaned back. "That's not nearly as terrifying as my wife, when she is angry at me. She can get really mad, you know?"

You couldn't hide the disbelief in your face and just shook your head. But slowly a smile was forming on your lips. "You're stupid."

Satoru chuckled again and took a bite of the food. Then he looked at you again. "Yeah, yeah. But back to the topic."

Leaning a bit forward, he raised an eyebrow. "Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?"

His voice sounded so casually you felt dumb. "Oh, I don't know. I wanted to ask you."

He tilted his head. "Do you even want to have a honeymoon?"

"What-" panic flooded you as you thought about the higher ups. "Of course!"

"If you say so." he didn't seem convinced but nodded. "But there has to be a place you always wanted to go."

You shook your head. "No, not really. You can decide."

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Is there no country you ever wanted to go to?"

"No!" you spoke so fast, you couldn't stop yourself from your panic taking over. "I mean- I would like to be in Japan."

He kept silent as he inspected you. And then he sighed. "I have nothing against it, if that's what you want. But you seem so on edge."

You looked down. "Sorry. This…" your throat tightens but you manage to say the words in your mind. "It's just very important."

He blinked at you again and then smiled so softly, you didn't know Satoru could even look at you like that. "It's okay, but if you are too focused on making it perfect, it sabotages itself, doesn't it?"

You couldn't bear his words. The voice of your mother played so loudly in your right ear.

Be a good wife. Be a good wife. Be a good wife be a good wife beagoodwife-

"Would you like to go to a quiet place?" Satoru chuckled to himself. "I wouldn't say no to it."

He looked so sincere. Never before had he talked to you like that. Of course you did have some small talk about his day and what you read the last day, but he seemed so relaxed and like himself right now.

Was this the charismatic Gojo Satoru so many people told you about?

"I would like that." you whispered.

"Hina?" His gaze focused on the girl who quickly emerged from the kitchen. "You and your grandma lived in Shirahama, didn't you?"

She nodded quickly and smiled. "Yes, it's nice there. A bit of the ocean to see and plenty of nature."

She looked at you expectantly. "It's really relaxing, Mrs. Gojo."

Somehow, her shy look made you smile too. "Well, we'll have to go and see it then."

Hina smiled at you with sparkling eyes and bowed a bit again. "You won't regret it!"

"Definitely not!" Satoru laughed a bit. "Then that's settled."

"What-" he looked at his food and continued eating without a care in the world. How could he just carelessly think that that was it?

"But we still have to discuss everything with the higher-ups!"

The atmosphere became much colder along with his gaze. He had stopped eating and his gaze pierced you.

His figure suddenly sitting up straight, his arms to the side, he raised his head.

"Why should I discuss our honeymoon with them?"

The words were caught up in your throat.

You looked down at your food and tried to justify your silence by eating.

"Did you just want to talk to me because of them?" his voice was so much colder than it had been seconds before.

You frantically swallowed your food. "No, I… It wasn't that, really!"

The lies were hard to get off your lips. But he couldn't know about the meetings, no, he simply couldn't!

He was silent. His gaze was lowered and you could no longer see his beautiful blue eyes.

"I wanted to… Get to know you better. We hardly know each other." You pointed to the food table.

"I think it's good that we're eating together now, but that hardly adds anything. I just wanted… For us to have more time together."

When he still didn't say anything, you lowered your head too. "It's just… I thought we still had to organize everything with them? Because of your work and clan duties?"

Gojo chuckled and you heard him looking up. "As if they could fight back. We can just leave."

His voice halled through the room. "And we will tomorrow."

"What?" Shocked, you looked at him. "You can't be serious, can you?"

A huge grin was forming on his face. "You still have to learn how serious I can be. We're leaving tomorrow."

He pulled out his cell phone and typed something. "One of my clan employees will arrange our trip."

"Gojo, we can't just leave!"

"Why not?" he looked deep into your eyes. "Why can't we just say 'fuck them'?"

You shook your head. "Maybe you could, Gojo, but not me! I would disgrace my clan!"

Gojo stood up abruptly. "This is our honeymoon! Your honeymoon! What they think doesn't matter! You're my wife now, those bastards have to respect you! Understand that!"

"It's not that simple." You could only whisper.

He shook his head. "Nevertheless let's go tomorrow. I'll write a letter to your mother and explain that I just took you with me."

He approached your seat. "You wouldn't be to blame."

As if she would think it wasn't your fault. They'd all curse you because then they wouldn't know where you two even were.

But wasn't that what you wanted?

"I'm going to sleep." Determined, you headed for your room. You needed to clear your thoughts.

"We can talk about it again in the morning. And maybe go straight away." He followed you to your door.

"There would be consequences." Something in your voice trembled. "Just running off like that."

And as you stood there, your door to your room already in your hand, he stepped right behind you. His body closer than ever.

Shouldn't Infinity be pushing you back? Why could you feel his warmth, almost feel his breath?

"I could handle that." His hand now held your door.

"I want to get to know you better too."

With that, he let go of your door and left you standing in the hallway, confused.

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[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch15

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14

Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff, touch starved

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a long day of worrying over several different things, it was finally time to clock out.

You wanted relief to wash over you as Miguel took your hand.

You wanted to feel relieved as Miguel kept comforting you.

But it was difficult.

Your nerves were getting worse as you kept overthinking about everything that could go wrong. Miguel must have noticed because he kept helping you walk since you were stumbling everywhere. It was embarrassing.

"Amor, (love), I must admit while I hate how stressed you are, I can't help but find your clumsiness adorable." Miguel whispered as he kissed your neck.

"S-Sorry,"

"Allow me to ease yourself," Miguel hummed as his hands stroked down your waist, "I don't want my girl to get gray hairs before me."

"Haha," You chuckled.

As much as you enjoyed Miguel's attention, you knew that you needed answers first. Moving his hands away from your skirt, you leaned forward and pecked his lips.

"Answers first, Miguel."

"Of course,"

The car ride to Miguel's place was quiet. Miguel was respectful of your wishes, his arm only around your shoulder. How much of what Dana said was true? You knew that Miguel would be honest with you, but it still concerned you.

Noticing the car slowing down, you look out the window and saw beautiful skyscrapers. You watched as you pulled into a tightly secured parking lot. The driver parked and exited the vehicle.

"Sir, Ma'am, we have arrived." The driver spoke as he opened the door. Miguel helped you out,

"Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your night."

"Thank you, sir. You as well."

You were in awe over the parking lot alone. It was large, fancy and had lots of body guards. Miguel rested his hand against your waist, leading you towards a brightly lit elevator.

Once inside, you were surprised to see more buttons on the elevator pad than the one at work.

"Would you like to guess what floor I'm on?" Miguel asked you sweetly. You pressed your lips forward, thinking,

"Um...twenty?" You asked, pressing the button. Miguel just chuckled,

"No, try again."

"Uh, twenty-five?" You questioned, pressing another button.

"Haha," Miguel let out a loud laugh as he grabbed your hand, "You don't need to keep pressing the buttons."

"O-Oh! Sorry!"

"Here," Miguel held your hands as he pressed the final floor, "There we go, top floor."

--------

Miguel was itching to touch you more. The warmth of your hand was not enough for him. Feeling you tremble, Miguel just relished in your sweetness. He needed to be respectful of your wishes. To wait until he told you everything.

But Miguel was so bad at listening to himself.

Miguel wanted to kiss you. He wanted to press your body against his, wanting to feel your warmth. Miguel wanted to hear your sexy moans as he groped your body.

To have you pressed against these elevator walls as he slapping his dick into your tight walls. The sounds you would make as Miguel would turn your insides into a hot, wet mess. The way your legs would tremble as your pussy squeezed his dick.

'Shit'

Miguel inhaled deeply as he felt himself getting hard. How easy you did this to him. To think that even the great and powerful Miguel could fold so easily. All because of you.

"(Y/N), may I hold you just a bit?" Miguel asked, wanting you to feel what you were doing to him.

"S-Sure," You stuttered.

Ah, Miguel could never get enough of you. His shy little clumsy mouse. Closing his eyes, Miguel inhaled the perfume you wore. Such a sweet scent. Perfect for when he would ravish you later. His little dessert.

"Miguel," You whined softly.

"Sorry, I don't want anyone seeing," Miguel said a softly

It was true, he didn't want people seeing the state he was in. Almost like a feral beast just wanted to fuck his prey pregnant. Oh how the news reporters would eat this up.

Miguel just needed to wait until they got to his penthouse. Once the two of you did, Miguel hurried took your hand into his place.

--------

You're eyes widen at the sight of Miguel's penthouse. It was large and spacious. Miguel was quick to grab some water before leading you over to the couch.

"Sorry about this, but feel free to look around. I'm going to shower and take care of this first."

"It's okay. Take your time," You hummed. Miguel raised a brow towards you, a slight smirk on his face,

"Unless you care to join me?"

"A-Ah," Your cheeks started to burn, "A-Answers first!"

"Hm, if I answer some of your questions, would you then join me in the shower?"

Why did Miguel have to be so charming? Your heart was leaping at the thought of joining him. That and you pressed your legs together as you started to get hot.

"Maybe..."

"Alright. Before you start your questions, I want you to know that Dana means nothing to me."

"But she did at some point, right?" You hesitantly asked. Miguel sighed softly,

"We had known each other for a long time. She was a friend to me, at least before our two families spoke of marriage. To please my family, I tried to see Dana as something more than a friend...but..." Miguel's look turned sour.

"But?"

"I tried to love her, tried to give her the attention she wanted, but it was never enough. Dana wanted more. I couldn't stand her butting into everything. I started to lie to get rid of her."

"So...why did you sign the contract?" You asked. Miguel stroked your cheek,

"I did, but I didn't. One night I got drunk, too drunk, and she took advantage of it. (Y/N), I am using every lawyer I have under my belt to get out of this arrangement."

"I see," You whispered and gulped, "Um...have you ever...had sex with her?" You didn't want to ask, but you recalled Dana's words.

Miguel must have saw the hurt in your eyes. He kissed your head and stayed in front of you, keeping eye contact.

"I have twice, but it wasn't real love."

It hurt to hear Miguel admit it, but at least he was honest. You had wanted to be Miguel's first as well, but that might have been asking for too much.

"I have other questions...Dana mentioned about you hiding stuff about your family, your past and about your desires and wants?"

"I will answer everything you want. (Y/N), unlike that snake, I care for you. I truly love you and want to keep you by my side. If anything, my main desire is to free myself from that woman and have you all to myself." Miguel kissed your hands. "I want to keep you all to myself."

"Can't you rip the contract?"

"If only it were that easy," Miguel took the seat beside you, "If I were to rip the contract or refuse to marry her, then Dana will have access to my company. I can't let her take everything I worked hard for. She cares only for the money, but she will ruin everything."

"But...it allows you to openly have another relationship?"

"I've read the contract. I can do as I please, so long so, that I don't break off the marriage," Miguel sighed as he leaned back into the couch, "I swear that woman drives me insane."

Playing with your fingers, you could feel Miguel's stress. He truly hated Dana. Wanting to cheer him up, you slowly crawled on top of Miguel's lap. Your hands resting against his cheeks to get his attention again.

"I'm sorry for worrying about this...and for doubting you. I just...I just tend to overthink, that and Dana was pretty s-scary. This...This is my first relationship and I really really like you, Miguel. I was scared that it wasn't real."

"(Y/N)," Miguel wiped your tears away, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, "Sorry to not have warned you about her earlier."

"I-It's okay."

You sniffled softly, calming down. As you did, you whimpered as you felt Miguel's bulge press against your crotch. Miguel hummed lowly as his hands rested against your waist,

"Why don't I answer a few more questions in the shower? Help you clear your mind of worries?"

"Mhm, M-Miguel," You whimpered at the thought.

"Come, let's wash up."

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Next Chapter

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[mrsshabana]

Okay I’ve got an idea for you

Soulmate Tattoo AU but Gyutaro never had one as a human and it only develops some time after he became a demon.

𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐮 ♡ 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

꒰୨୧ ・Content Gyutaro x female!reader, canon-ish, soulmate au, fluff, angst ꒰୨୧ ・Note I've been meaning to answer this ask for so long! Honestly I wish I could write an entire fic about this but I had to stop myself. I've always wanted to write for a soulmate au so if you want to see more don't hesitate to ask! ♡ (Also I've never written for a soulmate au before so I'm sorry if I did it wrong)

It all happened so fast.

Just a moment ago you were walking home from the night market. And now you find yourself pinned to the ground in a dark alleyway fighting for your life. Some monster grabbing at you, trying to make you his next meal.

He's unlike anything you've ever seen before, but it doesn't take long for you to deduce that he's a demon. You've only heard people tell stories of them, but you never would have imagined they were real.

His large hand wraps around your mouth so you can't scream.

"Pathetic," he snarls, "Just going to let me kill you without putting up a fight?"

You try to kick and scream but you're powerless against him. His lips curl into a sadistic smile. A deep, hyena-like laugh comes from his throat.

"You're so disgraceful, I almost feel bad for you!"

For a split second, he's too busy antagonizing you to notice that you're wiggling out of his grasp. "Fuck you!" you hiss, kicking his groin and desperately crawling away.

Immediately the demon hunches over and groans in pain, "You... bitch..."

Unfortunately, the blow doesn't do as much damage as it would a human, and he's recovered quicker than you expected. You were only able to get a few feet away before he grabbed your ankle.

"You'll pay for th-" he stops mid-sentence and stares at the spot above your ankle.

An intricate pattern lies there, one that you were born with. It looks like a random splotch of ink at first glance, but when you look closer it resembles the shape of a heart.

The demon gulps audibly, suddenly the entire aura around him shifting. Without an explanation, he gets on one knee and pulls up the hem of his pants to reveal a mark that looks identical to yours.

"You... You're my soulmate," you whisper in disbelief.

The demon's hand begins to tremble as he keeps a firm grip on your ankle. "It-it can't be..."

"P-Please, maybe we-"

"Shut it!" he snaps, his teeth getting dangerously close to your face, "I don't care who you are! You're gonna be my next meal!"

He pulls out a weapon you didn't notice he had. It looks strange, like something you've never seen before.

With a look of amusement on his face, he swipes the blade of the weapon across your throat.

But nothing happens.

"...what?" he frowns and presses the blade harder against your neck. But it won't cut your skin.

It really must be true then. This demon is your soulmate, and lucky for you soulmates can't bring harm to each other.

You always heard about soulmate tattoos and how you were destined to find that special person one day. But a demon? Really? Sure, he's pretty cute but he's still a demon!

However, you're honestly just happy to be alive. At least now you don't have to worry about the demon that lurks around the entertainment district making you his dinner.

Meanwhile, your soulmate stares at you with wide eyes, hurriedly stepping away from you as if he's disgusted by you.

"Wait! Please don't go," you reach out to him, "Maybe we can work something out..."

"Tsk, I want nothing to do with you. I don't need a soulmate," he snarls, looking you up and down one last time before disappearing into the night.

You stay in that spot longer than you should, hoping he would return.

Of course, you know that demons are dangerous, but a part of you can't help but feel some kind of unconditional love for him. He is your soulmate after all.

But after some time passes you give up on love. The demon never comes back so you figure there's no point in even trying to find love in the future. If your destined soulmate doesn't even want you, then why would anyone else?

As weeks pass you go on with your life and try to forget about the demon. You're pretty sure he's long forgotten about you, but you couldn't be further from the truth. He's just been really good at hiding it.

Gyutaro hasn't been able to stop thinking about you ever since that night.

He went his entire life convinced that he was unloveable. But then suddenly this gorgeous human shows up on a silver platter just for him. It was a lot to process in the moment, but as time passed he couldn't help but sprout feelings for you. Especially after he stalked you and got to see how cute you are.

It started with him following your scent around the district, finding out where you lived, stealing your mail to get all of your personal information, and then breaking into your home while you slept.

Sure, maybe it's a bit creepy and weird but he's a demon! He has no morals at this point.

When he was a human, soulmates were the least of his worries. He was too busy scrounging for food and trying to survive to care. There were plenty of marks on his body, but none of them were the mark of a soulmate. The one on his ankle only appeared years after he became a demon. But honestly, the thought that this mark was actually the mark of a soulmate never crossed his mind. He always believed that a soulmate was never in the cards for him.

Normally he would never catch feelings for anyone, let alone a human. But when he met you it was like a switch flipped inside of him and he couldn't help but feel drawn to you.

And now, as he spends more and more time around you he begins to get careless. His feelings start to get stronger and overpower his rational thoughts. This whole time he's told himself that he'll never let you see him and he'll always just admire you when you're asleep. But the urge to touch you starts to get too strong. Oh, what he wouldn't give to feel your skin under his fingertips. To just hold you in his arms if only for a few seconds.

As he stands above your bed, looking down at you as you sleep blissfully unaware, he can't stop himself from crawling into your bed with you. It's like his body moves on its own, all of his anxious and self-hating thoughts get momentarily pushed aside. And all he can think about is you, and how right this feels.

You feel large, firm arms wrap around you - slowly waking you from your slumber. Typically someone would feel terrified to wake up suddenly in the embrace of a stranger. But you already know who this is. Your body knew it was your soulmate before you even opened your eyes.

After all of these weeks, you tried to forget about him but you never could. Ever since that first night you met him you felt like a part of you was missing. And he felt it too.

But now you feel complete with him by your side. And for the first time in his life, he doesn't hate himself. He doesn't feel like a disgusting, ugly, disgraceful waste of space.

He feels loved.

[sevsbestfriend]

I usually write fics here but I just wanna rant rn.

Sometimes I got to old posts and stuff, either to get new ideas or just see what the fuck is going on with the other side of the fandom.

The people coming to James defense or crazy, like on one hand they are like 'oh he was only human, he grew as a person otherwise how would lily love him?'

We literally have cannon confirmation that the fucking prat didn't stop hexing people, he just learned to hide it better. Sirius and Remus confirmed this when they called Severus a 'special case'. I don't give a shit about them saying he attacked first, you better believe I am attacking first if I come across a guy who has stripped me naked in public when I didn't do shit to him. (Or the other guy who tried to get me killed by bloody werewolf) Like wtf are you even talking about at that point???

Also, Harry comes across a detention report of them hexing another student in their 7th year. So uhm...yeah.

Then they are like 'oh Severus hates him so his memories are biased'

Did you morons even read the books?? Pensive memories are unbiased, any manipulation is extremely apparent as we saw in Slughorns case. So NO they aren't biased that extremely uncomfortable read of SWM? it's fucking canon in its truest sense.

Also, how in the ever living hippogryph does a guy who strips people naked for fun change so much that he becomes head boy??

It's pretty simple, he doesn't. He learns to hide it better and given the fact that this person has always been given the benefit of the doubt, it is very easy for them to their nature.

Dude had a map that showed him everyone's real time location and an invisibility cloak, he could damn well harass anyone in isolated corners of the castle if he wished. Which is exactly what he did.

Also, these people love to claim how 'lily only approved of him cause he changed.'

To that I say, Who the fuck is Lily?? Mother Teresa??

How is she the ultimate decider of what is good and bad and at the same time, completely right in dating someone who stripped another student makes after a year (or 2) of the event??

Don't get me wrong, she doesn't owe Severus anything, really, but seriously this is just ridiculous. Like if I was a woman, I would be genuinely terrified of someone like that, especially when they got away with no real consequences what so ever.

James was a prick with a very good PR team for friends and teachers. That's really it, it is often said that good looking people can get away with a lot of things and James is just a prime example of that.

---_---_---_---_---_---_---_---_

Also...BRAVE?? Dude had 2 cheat items and the advantage of a Pureblood upbringing and was still too PUSSY to face Severus alone. Yeah..what a real Gryphindor that one. Scrams bravery to you doesn't it? He did this all the way till 17, so yeah he definitely was super important in the order right??

---_---_---_---_---_---_---_---_---_

Dumbledore invested quite a bit in the Marauders with his blatant favoritism and letting a werewolf in the school risking his own position as a headmaster.

And...they all turned to be bloody useless. With only James being useful because of his participation in the birth of Harry Potter.

Sirius in his madness derailed a murder investigation for a fucking decade.

Remus, I genuinely can't remember anything substantial Remus did, except for letting someone he believed was a murderer into Hogwarts and never telling Dumbledore that they were Animagus to begin with.

---_---_--_---_

Seriously, the most useful person in the war had to literally beg on his knees for the man to use him. Even fate was like, for fucks sake, just give this guy a chance already.

[emphistic]

Deja Vu

A/N: Bury Me at Makeout Creek

<- series m.list

And autumn comes when you’re not yet done

With the summer passing by, but

I don’t think I could stand to be

Where you don't see me

Sukuna had fallen in love with a war, when nobody told him it had ended.

Broken bottles and fallen chairs and shredded papers decorated the already messy floor. Sukuna’s apartment was a battlefield, and so was his mind. He simply just didn’t get it. . . Sukuna was the moon, when you wanted the stars. And for that very reason, he had lost everything.

He had no other reason to stay, no ulterior motive. And he certainly wasn’t wrong when he said there was no reason for the two of you to continue the fake relationship.

Sukuna was hurt. He had come to terms with it long ago. You didn’t love him, for he was merely a “token of luck” for you, and that was all there was to it. But, at the same time, he wanted you to be happy. And if he needed to leave for that to happen, he would. Still, he couldn’t help the thought that came into his mind, that he hoped—no, wanted—you to be happier with him, rather than with Naoki Ito. 

Was he foolish for thinking he was more of the man you needed, compared to Naoki?

Fuck. He was hurt, and he was far from coming to terms with it.

Sukuna often found himself asking why he loved you. And every single time, he was left with no answer. Why? Why did he love you? Even after you tore his heart out, and ripped it to shreds, without even knowing it yourself, he still loved you.

Vulnerability. A noun, as said by Oxford Languages, meaning “the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.” It was an emotion Sukuna showed once every blue moon. Yet, with you, it seemed the opposite. You were a special girl to Sukuna. One which he had known since childhood. The thought of him having to let your memories merely fade away to the past was unbearable.

Sukuna hated you so much. But in his world, love and hate were so similar, that he knew not the line which crossed between them. It was blurry. It was foggy. But it definitely couldn’t be non-existent, right?

That fateful day, after Sukuna exited your kitchen, he walked back into the living room, told the two cousins on the couch he was called into work, and simply left. You only knew this, because, when you came back into the living room, soon after wiping away stray tears on the sleeve of your sweater and splashing your face with cold water, Naoki and Eileen were quick to question you.

“Why did it take so long?”

“Does microwaving popcorn really take almost ten minutes?”

You had missed the beginning of White Chicks, but it didn’t matter much to you, you had already seen the movie quite a few times before. And, taking everything into account, an American 2000s comedy film probably wasn’t enough to get rid of the prominent tear stains on your pillow that very night.

Naoki had asked you if he could stay the night, using traffic as an argument, and even going as far as to suggest the idea of using your spare bedroom, but you outright rejected him. Saying the traffic near you wasn’t usually as bad on Saturdays as on other days.

Of course, that was a lie. Your street was busier than most locations, and still, you didn’t feel an ounce bad for making up a mere fib. You just couldn’t bear the thought of another man taking up the bed previously used by a notorious man with pink hair. Your heart wasn’t taken by Naoki, and your bed wouldn’t be, either.

Eileen exited your apartment after the movie ended, followed suit by her male cousin. The blonde left without a word to you, save for a small mumble of “Good night”, but that was it.

You didn’t know why you felt so empty inside. Everything that happened, happened because of you. You said yes to being Naoki’s girlfriend, and you told Sukuna that you two should end the fake relationship; you were the sole puppeteer. And yet, you felt like a doll attached to the strings.

Everything played out the way you made it, but none of it played out how you wanted it.

Confusion. Guilt. Regret.

Three emotions that hung heavy in your heart.

The whole two weeks you spent with Sukuna, you spent making a grave mistake. You thought of no one but yourself. The arranged relationship? Was for your benefit: to lift the curse. Sukuna? Was your pawn: did everything you suggested. Naoki? Was your opportunity to experience making macaroni with someone.

Was I always this selfish? you asked yourself, while laying in bed one night. It was quiet in the apartment, save for the distant grumble of your fridge, and the wind blowing against your curtains, and the sheets rustling every time you shifted in bed, unable to fall victim to Hypnos.

The thought process behind your poorly executed actions was simply that you had too much on your plate. You were in two relationships at once. But your heart was in one spot. And that confused you. What you’ve always wanted since childhood now seemed dull and insignificant. Was this what you really wanted?

You couldn’t continue the relationship with Sukuna because you had to end the one with Naoki first. And, speaking of which, you had no clue why you took up being Naoki’s girlfriend. Maybe you couldn’t bring yourself to decline someone who seemed so innocent. It just didn’t feel right.

But, at the same time, as you laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling with an arm beneath your head, you couldn’t help feeling sick to your stomach. These weren’t butterflies, this feeling wasn’t love. You were wrong. You were so, so wrong. You should’ve never even gotten yourself into this mess in the first place. And now, instead of only hurting yourself, you were hurting not one, but two other people. Two people who didn’t deserve what you were putting them through.

-

When Naoki grabbed your hand, you almost instinctively pulled it away, clearly not used to another man’s touch other than . . . Sukuna’s. . . Fuck.

It was the weekend, and you were ice skating with Naoki. It was a simple outing, an activity you found yourself having taken a liking to, and you should’ve been enjoying it. But . . . you weren’t. You couldn’t help yourself drifting off to the thought of Sukuna. He promised to teach you hockey when winter came; the weather would be colder, and the only warmth you could gather was from his hand intertwined with your own.

But winter seemed so far, and so impossible, that you almost threw away any dream you previously dreamt, and simply bit your tongue.

Your gloved hand shakingly took up Naoki’s, as the two of you glided across the ice at a moderate pace. Your bottom lip trembled, and you clumsily skated, nearly knocking into other couples on the ice as the both of you went on and on and on.

“I’m not really good at this, as you can probably tell,” Naoki began, “but you seem to know what you’re doing.”

“My . . . friend taught me; I told you, remember? He is—he was a good teacher,” you mumbled, turning your head away from Naoki’s.

A friend. That’s what Sukuna was to you for two decades. A companion, a neighbor, a comeade, someone you could trust. Sukuna was a friend. And now, he was but a stranger, whose face you could only hold on to in your dreams.

In the past, mainly when you were a little younger, you had dreams about people that didn’t exist (Well, that’s what you concluded). You could never remember their faces when you woke up, it was always a blur; a fuzzy, distinct memory that often seemed like a mere figment of your imagination.

That’s how the name Sukuna Ryomen felt to you now. Hearing it made your heart drop to your stomach, and you always looked around your surroundings to see if you could spot his unruly, pink hair, that you loved so much—yet not enough to keep—so that you could bring him back, and tell him how stupid, and how much of an idiot you were back there.

You knew Sukuna wouldn’t like it if you did that, he wouldn’t want you to pull him back into the tide. But fuck, you were a selfish person, who wanted nothing more than to do just that.

Naoki smiled, “Right. I forgot. . . Anyway, let’s go sit down somewhere. I heard there’s ice cream here, y’know.”

You turned back to Naoki. “Oh, really? That sounds nice, we should try it.”

“We should.”

“I didn’t take you for a chocolate person.”

You laughed. “Really? How do you mean?”

Naoki shrugged, a subtle smile on his lips. “. . .The reason Sukuna left that night . . . surely wasn’t just because of work, right?”

Did he know? Did Sukuna tell him? Did you accidentally tell him at one point? There was no way he could’ve found out on his own. You’ve never told a soul other than Sukuna about the “curse” and you certainly never told anyone about the arranged relationship. So then, how. . ?

Before you could ask any questions, Naoki beat you to it. “You don’t have to lie. Lying too much is . . . a bad habit to have. I’m sure you would know.” Naoki’s smile wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold. It was a smile of acceptance; he had learned everything he needed to learn.

You weren’t going to outright confess everything in a shopping mall to a man you didn’t know as well as you thought you did, and you sure as hell weren’t going to talk about how you felt about Sukuna, but you didn’t see the point in trying to hide the fact that you and Naoki shouldn’t be together anymore. You had lied for so long. To Sukuna. To Naoki. And to yourself.

Furrowing your brows, you sighed a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I’m sorry. You’ve been so nice and such a great listener, and I’ve. . . I’ve been . . . just me,” you shakily inhaled before continuing. “Naoki, I’m sorry. You’re great, you’re a wonderful guy, and I’m glad I got to spend the time I spent with you. I’m just—I. . . Everything is moving so fast for me, and I’ve been nothing but a huge dick to everyone around. It’s just. . . It’s complicated, and I. . .” Your voice trailed off, as you felt your eyes get wet. Crying in public was definitely a first for you. And today would not be the day.

“Look, I may not understand everything that’s going on, but I see everything going on. And I know, if we stay together any longer, you’ll spend the rest of your time as my girlfriend searching for another person in me that . . . doesn’t exist,” Naoki sighed. “I can assure you of that much.”

“Nao. . .” Your eyes softened as you peered into the copper-haired man’s face, but his head was casted downwards, and his bangs covered his eyes. You could barely see his mouth move as he spoke to you with a quiet voice.

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry. I . . . feel sorry for you, actually, that you had to bury your feelings for so long. That’s probably the only part I can sympathize with you on. But. . . I tried, I really tried. But ‘like’ and ‘love’ are very different things. And the difference between what we feel for each other is very prominent,” Naoki added, saying your name with a dull tone.

“. . .Naoki, I really, really wish we could’ve met when I was more mature. When I was a lot less confused, and a lot more . . . together, composed, I’m not sure. But, it’s been . . . a time. A ride. A chapter. But maybe, it was the wrong chapter. The wrong book, even,” you tried joking; “. . .I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Naoki Ito. You deserve so much better, but I can’t give you much better, and I will always be forever regretful of that.”

Naoki nodded. “I know. I know you’re full of regrets. But we’re in our twenties, and we have the rest of our lives to live. As much I miss this, as much as I miss you, I know there’s more for me out there. And there’s more for you out there, if you put your mind to it. It’s . . . embarrassing to spend the rest of your life hung up on heartbreak. I’ll tell you that.

“You’re a beautiful, exceptional girl. Being with someone you don’t love, and putting on a mask all day, isn’t your fate. I’m not going to hold you back from what you really want. So, this is goodbye.”

You walked home, soon after. With a heavy heart in your hand, that still beat for someone miles away. Huh, being selfish was so strange.

-

It’s a quarter after one, I’m a little drunk, and I need you now. 

Said I wouldn’t call, but I’ve lost all control and I need you now

And I don’t know how I can do without, I just need you now

You weren’t planning on spending the rest of your night drunk out of your mind, but being spontaneous was pretty much your thing at this point.

Alcohol is known to affect your brain. According to an article you read: It’s a depressant, which can disrupt the balance of neurotransmitters in your brain, affecting your feelings, thoughts, and behavior. In summary, alcohol affects the part of your brain that controls inhibition, so feeling relaxed, less anxious, or more confident after a drink is always a definite possibility.

In your apartment, you had a classy collection of drinks to choose from. But, maybe it was a mistake for Sukuna to supply you with his favorite bottle of beer, because that’s all you wanted now. You didn’t drink beer very often, but it burned especially good when it was accompanied by the feeling of longing for a man so far away.

Blinking back tears, your shaking fingers clumsily dialed a number you could only manage to remember when you were half-asleep and in need of comfort. You usually held the phone up to your ear, but this time, you put the call on speaker. You had nothing to lose, after all. You were alone, with the stars and moon, and your dignity.

The call was answered within two rings, and you wasted no time in saying, “Sukuna, I—I. . . I don’t know what to—hic—do. I need—”

You would’ve gone on and on about how sorry you were, and how much you needed him, but the drunk version of you had an incredibly flexible mind. And when Sukuna cut you off before you could say those three formidable words, and asked, “What did you have to drink?” you immediately forgot about what you were going to say before.

Your excitement for hearing Sukuna’s voice after what seemed like a millenium couldn’t be contained, and your heart felt ten times lighter. Blinking, your reply came almost instantly. “Just—just a few beers. Why . . . do you ask?”

Sukuna hummed from the other line. “Not in a mood for Chardonnay, I take it?”

“N-no,” you furrowed your brows, chewing on your bottom lip. “I wanted something that reminded me of you. I wanted to drink your favorite drink. . . And, when I opened the bottle, it felt like I could feel your hands on it from the last time you opened it for me. I wish—”

“Those things are tough. Why didn’t you just use a bottle opener?”

“I don’t like bottle openers. I like when you used to open bottles for me,” you nearly burst out sobbing, which was just utterly insane, considering the bittersweet smile you had on your face. “I . . . miss y—”

“I know you do, and, to be frank, that just makes me feel a lot better about everything. I mean, why wouldn’t you miss me? I gave you what you’ve always wanted, I lifted your stupid fuckin’ curse, I’m—I’m basically your Lord and Savior, now,” joked a laughing Sukuna. He was frustrated, so frustrated. Because, despite it all, he still fucking loved you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after you unconsciously made him relapse. None of that mattered, because you were you, and Sukuna would always love that.

Drunk You didn’t understand any of what Sukuna was saying, and so you ultimately dismissed his words. Your voice softened as you added, “I’m—I’m worried. I . . . don’t want other memories to replace ours. I miss our cooking nights together, Sukuna. I really miss—”

“Do you miss having someone to make macaroni and cheese with, or do you miss me?”

“. . .Is there a right answer to that?” You laughed mindlessly, taking another swig from your glass.

“There’s a right answer to everything, if you put your heart to it. Go to sleep, sweetheart. There’ll be alka-seltzer in your cabinet when you wake up.”

-

You awoke the next morning with an empty bottle in your hand, prominent eye bags, and a bad back, because you had slept on the couch that night before. Your first thought was to go back to sleep, but you decided against that, and stalked around the apartment like a zombie in search of brains, until you found a box of hangover relief in your cabinet. I didn’t put that there, you thought, but you took the tablets anyway.

Hangovers didn’t wait for anyone, and you definitely weren’t going to question a miracle from God.

“So, what’s up? We haven’t hung at your place in a while; it looks nice.” Yuuji had arrived at your door fifteen minutes after you told him you needed someone to confide in. He was a naturally very nosy person, but something told you his speed was because he wanted to help a friend out.

“I need advice,” you said, setting two cups of coffee on the table. You clearly hadn’t learned your lesson on the harm in inviting a friend over to your apartment for drinks, except this time, you would finally be sober.

“Yeah, you look like you need advice. Sorry, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but, you look like shit.”

“Uh huh. I feel like shit, too. It’s been a rough two weeks since I last heard from you. There’s a lot we need to catch up on,” you laughed, taking a sip from your mug.

“Spill.”

“I fucked your brother.”

There was a pregnant pause. Yuuji couldn’t even look you in the face, not because he was surprised—spoiler alert: he wasn’t—but because he simply wasn’t expecting you to be so frank. You? Sukuna? Why did no one tell him anything? Were you asking for advice about getting into a real relationship with Sukuna? Or were you two past that, and looking to get married?

“. . .Deadass. . ?”

“. . .No, I’m just kidding. But, we did . . . kiss. And, we did date, but it wasn’t. . . It was casual, it was just—I don’t know. It was fake. Okay, it was fake. That’s—that’s what it was.”

“And I take it, you wanted it to be real?”

Yuuji could be so smart sometimes, you mentally laughed.

“That’s the thing, Yuuji. I do, but I also don’t. But I do, but. . . I need advice, okay.”

“Duh. Tell me from the beginning.” Yuuji situated himself in a comfortable position, with his legs crossed on your table, and his arms resting on the back of the couch. He had a feeling he was going to be here for a long time.

You hesitantly started by explaining your curse. And how it’s been a dream of yours since forever to be able to make macaroni and cheese with someone you loved. But, you just never had an opportunity to do that, because you couldn’t get a partner who liked macaroni and cheese like you did.

“So, one day, when I was especially bored, and Sukuna was over at my place, I told him all of what I just told you. And, I brought up my idea on how I could get rid of my ‘curse’ and, surprisingly, he agreed to it. We would get into a fake relationship—because he liked macaroni and cheese—and cross our fingers and pray that the gods above would lift my curse and grant me a boyfriend who fit my rubric.”

Yuuji looked conflicted. “But Sukuna doesn’t like. . . Never mind, continue.”

“Later that night, we went out for drinks at a bar. I ran into a friend of mine, Eileen Mifune, and coincidentally, she was with her cousin, Naoki Ito. He’s, like, this super adorably dorky guy. Copper hair, super shy when we first met, you get the vision. But, yeah. We exchanged numbers, since I thought he was a nice guy, y’know?”

Yuuji nodded, completely engaged in your story.

“The next day, Sukuna and I watched Pride and Prejudice—”

“Let me guess, Sukuna was being a dick about the movie and everything in it?”

“Bingo. So, we watched Pride and Prejudice. Or, at least, we tried to. Uhm. . . Some things came up, and we may or may not have gotten a bit carried away and started. . . We kissed. Like, a lot. And I liked it. I really liked it.”

“Is that the conflict?”

“No, there’s more. We were interrupted by Naoki calling me, and he was asking to see me. Wanted me to show him around the city, or something. Did I mention he was looking for a place to stay? Sorry. But, anyway, I agreed.

“We were walking to a restaurant I knew, since he doesn’t have a car, when out of the blue, it started raining. We agreed to walk back to my place, since the restaurant was still a lot farther, and we ended up making macaroni and cheese together.”

“Like you’ve always wanted? Isn’t that a good thing, then?”

“. . .It should’ve been. Moving on, the next day, I invited Sukuna over, and I proposed that we should start seeing other people, since, at the time, I thought Naoki was interested in me, and that I was interested in him. Sukuna ended up agreeing.

“We told the cousins we had simply lost interest in each other, and I started going on dates with Naoki. We hung out pretty often. And, from what I’ve assumed, Sukuna did the same with Eileen.

“Some time later, I invited Sukuna over, and we made macaroni and cheese while he told me the story of that catastrophic Thanksgiving dinner you guys had. My condolences to Choso, by the way,” you added.

“Ohh, yeah, that.” Yuuji scratched the back of his neck. “I still feel bad about that.”

“Uh huh. Anyway. . . Oh! I found out he watched Sausage Party!”

“For real? I’ve been nagging him for years, though, so can’t say I’m surprised.”

“We kissed . . . after eating the mac n’ cheese, and he stayed the night.

“The next day, I invited Naoki over. He asked me to be his girlfriend, and. . . I said yes, because I didn’t know what else to say, to be honest. And, it did feel like I was obligated to. I’m just. . . I’m really confused, Yuuji.”

“Would you have said ‘yes’ if Sukuna wasn’t part of the story?”

“. . .I wouldn’t have met Naoki if Sukuna wasn’t part of the story.”

“Don’t be like that. I mean in general.”

“No, I wouldn’t have said ‘yes’ because . . . I don’t love Naoki like I thought I did.”

Yuuji sighed, “Well, there’s your answer. This Naoki guy just isn’t the one for you.”

“So. . . Sukuna came over—I didn’t invite him, by the way—and he was . . . with Eileen.”

“That one blondie?”

You nodded, looking at your lap.

“What a bitch,” Yuuji shook his head.

“We decided to have a double-date? I don’t know. A movie was put on, and I went to go make popcorn. Sukuna came with; one thing led to another, and we kissed. . . I loved it. But, I felt guilty, because. . . I was in a relationship with another guy. Fuck, of course I felt guilty! I was cheating for God’s sake!” You groaned, holding your head in your hands.

Yuuji hummed, “That’s kind of a dick move on your part, not gonna lie.”

Your head snapped to Yuuji’s. “I know! That’s the whole point. I know, and I still did it. And, if time was rewound, I probably would have done the same thing. God. And you know the worst part? We broke up right after. I told Sukuna about how we shouldn’t have been . . . y’know, kissing, and he just. . . We broke up. The arrangement’s off.

“I lost a fake boyfriend, and I lost a real friend. All in the same day.”

“That’s. . . I don’t even know what to say to you. So, as for Naoki?”

“I broke up with him yesterday. I got deja vu being with Naoki. I felt like he wasn’t the first boyfriend I had that liked macaroni and cheese. It was as if I was reliving something I had already gone through. It just didn’t sit right with me.”

“And you did something about that?”

You paused. “Well . . . yeah. I broke up with him.”

“Sheesh, that’s the shortest lasting relationship you’ve ever had. And probably the shortest one in history, too.”

“Yuuji,” you deadpanned, “be serious.”

“Okay, okay,” he raised his hands in defense. “You couldn’t, like, explain everything to him or something? You guys could just get back together. For real, this time.”

“Not exactly. . . I mean, just look at me, I’m currently a fucking mess. I’m more confused than I’ve ever been. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Sukuna how I really felt, because . . . I just don’t think . . . I would be good for him.”

“Are you telling me? Or are you trying to tell yourself that?” 

“. . .” You didn’t know.

Yuuji said your name with full confidence, “I know my brother. I’ve known him my whole life. And I know, that, you were the best and the worst thing to happen to him. (That’s a compliment.) There will never ever be another girl like you. Not in this lifetime. Not in this universe. Not ever. So be rational, goddamnit. Sukuna won’t settle for less. And he’s as stubborn as a mule. What you did was wrong, but you can always change the ending of a story if you really put your mind to it.

“Call him. Text him. But whatever you do, do the apologizing and explaining in person. I will personally help you and abduct him, if that’s what it will take.

“I really like you and my brother together; I’m selfish, I know. But everyone is a little self-seeking every once in a while, and I’m sure Sukuna would at least hear you out. So don’t sweat it, kid.” Yuuji patted you on the shoulder encouragingly, before sitting up and cracking his back after sitting for what seemed like forever.

-

You ended up passing up Yuuji on his ingenious idea of kidnapping Sukuna. If you were going to fix things, you were going to do it unaided. There have been too many people involved by now; you just wanted it to be Sukuna and you and the stars in the night sky. Uninterrupted by any phone calls, and any other thoughts that snaked their way into your brain.

“What . . . is this?” Sukuna raised a brow, inspecting the plate of food in your hands.

“You cooked for me . . . a lot, back then. I just . . . wanted to repay the favor?” You tried.

“So why is the ketchup on the omurice spelling out the word ‘sorry’? I’m not a mind reader, y’know. Explain,” Sukuna crossed his arms.

“It’s an apology. For you. I’m apologizing to you, Sukuna, for being so utterly stupid these two weeks. Please, let me explain. So I can sound like less of a dick.”

“Be my guest.”

Despite Yuuji’s assurance, you still feared Sukuna would hang up your call or leave your texts on read. So, you did the next best thing. You had shown up to Sukuna’s door completely unannounced. With a plate of a traditional Japanese dish—omurice—in your grasps, which you knew Sukuna had a soft spot for. People usually do a design with the ketchup, and you . . . decided to write the word sorry.

You followed Sukuna inside, and the both of you walked onto the balcony, where you could have some peace and quiet to explain yourself with no interruptions. There was the occasional flutter of the wind, and the sounds of birds having fun in the sky, but that was it. And that was enough.

Clearing your throat, you began—with the plate of food still in your hands. “I’ve been really stupid. And ignorant. And. . . I’m sorry.

“I don’t know why, but, I’ve always pushed away the idea that I loved you. And, that was dumb. Because I really loved you. Love, I mean. I know that’s kind of frank, and maybe even a little cheesy to hear and say, but, I don’t regret saying it. To you, at least.

“We got into this relationship for my benefit. And I never batted an eye to how you felt. That was egotistical of me. A dick move. And I’ve realized that.

“I’ve been stupid since the beginning of this. I mean, what type of person comes up with the idea that they’re cursed to never date someone interested in macaroni and cheese?” you joked.

Sukuna sighed. “You know, I agreed to your ‘curse removal’ thing because I never experienced true romantic love. But, in the end, you only gave me my first experience of true romantic heartbreak.”

“Uhm, yeah, I’m—I’m really, really sorry, Sukuna. Feelings always confuse me, and—and I didn’t say yes to being Naoki’s girlfriend because I loved him. It’s you who I feel that way towards. . .” you cringed at yourself. “I dragged you into this mess; and I fucked up. I just want you to know, that, me agreeing to be Naoki’s girlfriend was only because I didn’t know how to say otherwise. I felt . . . obligated? to say ‘yes’ and so I did. But, love isn’t really my strong suit. And, I know it sounds cheesy to say this, but, taking everything into account, this kind of reminds me of what Plato wrote about soulmates. 

“That, humans used to originally have four arms, four legs, and two faces. Until, as a punishment for our pride, Zeus split humans in half. And now, we’re left destined to walk the earth searching for our other half.” 

You sighed, exhausted with guilt.

“Yeah, I messed up, really bad, and you may hate me forever now—I wouldn’t blame you—but, I think I’ll always be drawn back to you. And,” you paused, looking up at the moon above, “I can’t say I’m complaining. As long as it’s you I’m destined to.”

Sukuna remained silent throughout the whole time you explained yourself. He felt . . . conflicted, to say the least. He knew he shouldn’t forgive you, but his heart ached, and longed. Sukuna had spent the days apart from you reflecting and going over everything that happened. And, in conclusion, he still loved you. Honestly, if you stabbed him and removed the blade before doing the same thing, Sukuna would probably still love you.

His stomach churned, and his eyebrows furrowed, as his turmoil consumed most of him.

“This might be a bad time to say this, but,” Sukuna turned to you, whispering, “I only liked macaroni and cheese because I ate it with you. You made the meal enjoyable, because we ate it together. As a couple, as friends, whatever. And, in full honesty. . . I fucking hate macaroni and cheese.”

Sukuna expected you to respond in shock, maybe even curse him out a bit, but you didn’t. At least, you didn’t let any emotion show on your face. Instead, you merely continued staring at the stars and the moon in the inky, dark night sky. Silent, eyes unblinking, and body unmoving.

The curse was never about macaroni and cheese. It was about true love. Those relationships with other people who liked macaroni and cheese weren’t successful because they were all with the wrong person. You weren’t cursed. You were in love, without knowing it.

“Look up, Sukuna,” you whispered, entirely focused on the stars. “Don’t you think. . .” 

Your voice trailed off, but Sukuna finished your sentence for you.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

“. . .Yes. Yes, it is.”

Love truly was the most twisted curse of all.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒

A/N: ngl, i feel like i kinda rushed this ending, but im glad its done so whatever. here are some details you might've missed <3

[culturalsillystine]

This ended up longer than I intended.

Here's a long rant about Zero Day, denial, and finding comfort in your sickness.

.

One of the things that's stuck with us since our first time watching Zero Day is when Cal says something about not being able to cure someone who has nothing wrong with them.

Some people get so deep into their illness that they start to tell themselves, "There is nothing wrong with me." It's self-soothing, in a way. You have nothing to fix if there's nothing wrong, right? And you get sucked further and further into it until it's all you know, so it becomes normal. There's truly nothing wrong with you, because it's your norm, and how could that be wrong?

And then you get worse and worse until something happens. It could be something bad, such as Cal and Andre's case. Something people would usually never consider. But when you're sick, you're sick, and things don't make sense, and it doesn't matter what people would or wouldn't consider. Because you would, and you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.

That, or you get help. And Andre briefly mentions something, I think it may be before what Cal says? I'm not sure, correct me if I'm wrong. But he mentions something, says that even if they did get caught and got put in counseling or something, they'd get out, and they'd still do it.

And that leads you to wonder, is that true? Is that truly what would happen? Or are they feeling so untouchable and so powerful that they think NOTHING can stop them. Not even professional help.

And we'll never know. That's what I enjoy about Zero Day, there's so much we never know. We just have to trust these two boys who will present you with their truth, not the truth.

We see very little of Cal's family, and what we do see isn't bad. What we see of Andre's is.. conflicting. His family means well, but he's an 18 year old boy who likes guns and doesn't seem to get enough appreciation from his father. It writes itself, really.

We see none of Andre interacting with his peers, we only see Cal during the prom scenes. And the prom scenes are loud and irritating and awkward. He doesn't really try to be social, he takes the next possible chance to go to the only person he really bothers socializing with; Andre.

They're both very sick. Whether it's the same thing, something similar, or something entirely different, who's to say, but they find comfort in each other. They're both rotting away, and it's okay, because it's together. Whether or not it's based in love (platonic or romantic) or a hatred for the world so deep that your vision is blurred by your tears of rage, who knows. You never get to know.

Because the last thing those boys would want is to be vulnerable. Because that means something is wrong. But nothing can be wrong, because you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.

I hope this makes sense and isn't incoherent.

[genderqueerdykes]

Is it weird that I get bothered by people insisting that I'm nonbinary? I'm bigender, man and woman specifically, and while I have minus issues with other people identifying with the nonbinary label, I get extremely uncomfortable when others try to insist that I am part of it.

Like... maybe I would be technically, by definition. But I have never felt like I'm outside the binary, but rather that I encapsulate the entirety of it to extremes that the cishetero binary very clearly does NOT approve of. My presentation is extravagant and over the top no matter how I do it, and because they don't adher to what a man or woman should look like by cishetero norms, people consistently seem to interpret this as me not having a gender? As if I'm deliberately going out of my way to be subvertive, when really I just do whatever I like, which just happens to be being flashy and all over the place depending on my mood.

I feel a bit bad, because I know that for some people all these things are related to them not being nonbinary! But the assumptions that I feel the same without my input frustrates me, it feels as if my gender is worth less to people because they're "just" man and woman and therefore stereotypical. Everytime I assert that I am not comfortable by being called they/them I am apparently overreacting because they're not gendered pronouns.

I don't feel like I'm making sense, it just feels so bad because most of my loved ones are nonbinary and I am always there to defend them and their right to express who they are, yet at the same time it's like a few of them only support for me for as long as I don't point out that our struggles don't become less similar and intertwined just because I don't like having labels applied to me against my wishes.

that's not weird! nobody likes being called something they're not

just because someone has multiple genders does not make that person or their genders non binary. especially if you feel your manhood and womanhood fit within the bounds of binary manhood and womanhood. there's nothing wrong with that, that's still an expression of bigenderism!

i think it's rude for people to assume that you're nonbinary because your gender isn't "just male or female". there are agender, genderqueer and genderfluid people who don't consider themselves non binary. it's okay if you don't, too, and don't want to be referred to by a term you don't use

good luck, i know stuff like that isn't easy. it's unnecessarily difficult to get people to refer to us properly- people love to make assumptions and run with them. it's disrespectful. take care of yourself

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

CH2-13 Thoughts + CH2-14 Predictions

Hello DRDT Fandom! CH2-13 came out about four or so days ago as I'm posting this, and I finally mustered up the energy and mental strength to write down my overall thoughts, and also general predictions for what I think is to come in the next episode. A lot happened in this episode and we have a lot to cover, so let's get started! Before we do though, I think I should give us a reminder of where we currently are in terms of the swear chart and the bingo card, as of CH2-12 Swear Statistics

Bingo Card

Just like the last post, I'll be separating my talking points into character categories, so let's jump straight in with the big man himself...

Levi

Quick Disclaimer: I myself am still trying to unlearn the mindset that having low or no empathy is in any way a moral failing. If I say anything wrong or rude, please politely correct me. Remember kids: Your feelings, thoughts, and emotions, what you feel and how you feel them if you do at all, do not have any moral weight, they are simply aspects of your brain and you cannot control your brain. The only thing that has moral weight is your actions.

So as we learned in the previous episode, Levi has the murderer secret! And as we learn in this episode, he apparently killed four people, one of which being his father. DRDT continues to take Danganronpa's standard tropes and incorporating them in unique ways, in this case Levi represents the trope of the Chapter 2 Serial Killer reveal (Genocide Jack, Peko, Maki). I love that DRDT keeps doing this and I hope it keeps it up You know what else is staying consistent, though?

(x) Levi: That incident happened when I was in my junior year of high school. Levi: My junior year was also the year that Hope's Peak scouted me as the Ultimate Personal Stylist. Levi: To my understanding, it would've reflected poorly on Hope's Peak to recruit a murderer, so they pressured the court into not pressing charges.

US-HPA being morally corrupt as all fuck, that's what! Like no, seriously, it makes more and more sense as for why Xander David and Mai were most likely forming a revolution against this damn place, cause wow. The choice to scout out Levi during his Junior Year, when he was still in high school, is...interesting. Given that this Hope's Peak takes in College-aged students, why not just wait until Levi has graduated high school? In fact, that probably would've been even better because by then Levi definitely would've perfected his skills in styling by then, and thus would further justify him being enrolled in the academy. We don't know whether or not Levi was scouted before or after his incident, but given how Levi explains the events, I'm willing to bet this was after. Which...makes thing especially strange. But I'm sure it's no big deal. I mean, it's not like we have any evidence of US-HPA preying on vulnerable childre--

(x) Min: The Ultimate Contest for Eminent Students was made for a very specific target audience. Min: Those children who had no talents, who would consider spending their entire lives preparing for one single test for even a chance to become an Ultimate...

Oh. Well isn't that funny, huh?

Part of Hope's Peak's branding in general is the promise of a better future, which is something that Levi clearly wants. So I can most definitely see why the idea of being enrolled in the academy appealed to him. Levi being a delinquent in his teenage years definitely tracks, given how we know that his family was full of bad influences (including himself more than likely). And I am absolutely not surprised that Levi ended up killing his father. I think a lot of us theorized for a while that the person he killed was linked to his family.

I'd absolutely adore to learn more about Levi's family situation and what exactly their relationship with each other was, because "We were bad influences on each other" can mean a lot of things. Given the fact that not even the police cared about the death of Levi's father, I'd be pretty willing to believe that Mr. Fontana is a wanted man who has done a lot of criminal harm to others. That might even be where Levi formed the mindset that people are defined by their actions. Maybe, that's my best guess and it doesn't even include his mother and brothers, lmao. Anyway, that's enough of Murder, Corruption, and Daddy Issues. Let's talk about the other thing that was revealed about Levi this episode, or more-so put into words. His low, if zero empathy. Firstly, those who are headcannoning Levi is ASPD, I see you and I love you. So much. But I would be lying if I didn't admit that my first thought upon watching this scene was "Levi is so Autismcoded" lmao But in all seriousness, I absolutely adore this side of his character. In general something I've always loved about Levi is the fact that he, to put it bluntly, does not know how to act. He's constantly seeing what others do and copying them, and asking them for guidance when he doesn't know what to do. His first appearance shows him using Xander and Teruko's appearances to wager what kind of person they are, which is more than likely how he got into styling in the first place. He's basically masking and trying to appear as what he views as normal because he's aware that his lack of empathy is not something most humans possess. And his actions reflect that of what he thinks a good person would do in these scenarios, whether that be your friends not inviting you to an event, or someone profusely bleeding from their neck. To put it in simple terms: He's masking. I love that. It really reminds me of the experiences had by my neurodivergent friends, and even though Levi is not canonically neurodivergent, the fact that so many people headcannon him with ASPD or Autism really goes to show how DT-Dev nailed that kind of experience, and how well they wrote Levi's low empathy in general. Well-done, DT-Dev :D ...Also I think it's safe to say that Accomplice!Levi is not happening. Damn it, I really liked that theory lmao.

Ace

[not even three minutes later]

...See, this is why I always believed Ace was telling the truth about David and Arei's conversation, because wow this man is competing with the former in the Shitty Liar Olympics.

If Ace's sense of security around Levi wasn't already shattered, it sure as hell is now. Which is very upsetting to see, but also very entertaining to me as an aficionado of toxic yaoi. I was never really an Acevi girl, it was just never something I was attracted to (probably because for a majority of CH2 Part 1's airing I really didn't like Ace lmao), but this combined with the Other Thing I'll talk about later has definitely sold me on it. I hope they get worse.

I can't remember what post it was, but I remember seeing someone talk about Ace very much projecting a friendship onto Levi that was never really there between them, and looking back, I absolutely agree. I mean, where the two of them really friends? I do think that Levi does, or did, genuinely like Ace. I don't think he would've been hanging around him in Chapter 1 if he didn't. But it was simply just that, he liked Ace. Ace loved Levi, and saw him as his lifeboat in the midst of this scary unfamiliar situation. Even if everyone else either was annoyed by or straight-up disliked Ace, even if he could die at any moment, he could still rely on Levi as a presence of safety and security, but that all came crumbling down.

ace can you please change your sprite

The fact that Ace, the man famous for jumping to conclusions, not thinking anything through or in depth, and switching his opinions on others on a dime, is even asking for Levi's defense at all, is proof enough to me that even after everything Ace still wanted to cling onto the fantasy of their friendship he had built up in his mind. But upon hearing that Levi never cared about what happened to him, he can no longer do so. ...And why do I think Ace got attached to Levi so quickly?

(x) Ace: I was totally right all along to burn our friendship--No, I can't even call it it "Friendship." Ace: There's only one person in my whole life who I've ever been able to call my friend. That I ever thought, even for just a short time, that you and I were "friends" is an insult to his memory.

Yeah it's time to talk about this.

So for those who are not in the know, DT-Dev confirmed in a now-deleted ask that this friend of Ace's is named Taylor Riley.

(thank you to @/nicohakobyan / weightedblankett on twitter for providing this screenshot)

We know very little about this man other than his name, his gender, the fact that he was Ace's friend, and that he's dead. We don't actually know that fourth one, but I think "insult to his memory" speaks for itself lmao. As such, we do not know the details of his relationship with Ace... But I've made more out of less before, so let's get to talking. Here's what I think:

I think that Taylor was a presence in Ace's life much similar to how Levi was to him in Chapter 1: A strong protective figure that helped to make the scared-of-everything Ace feel a sense of safety. And then some form of incident happened that resulted in Taylor's death, leaving Ace alone, heartbroken, bitter, and terrified. That sense of security he once had was ripped away from him, and without Taylor, he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore.

And then in the killing game, he meets Levi, who provides him with a similar feeling of safety. Immediately he begins to project the memory of Taylor onto Levi and as such becomes attached, quickly considering Levi a friend because of it. And I'm not entirely pulling this idea that Ace was projecting Taylor onto Levi out of my ass, either.

Ace: dark blue/purple (reasoning: refuses to provide reasoning)

When we first got this answer, most people assumed this was referring to Levi, but I honestly think it is more likely that this is referring to Taylor. But those colors are still part of Levi's design, which automatically sets up a parallel between both Levi and Taylor Ace projected his relationship and the memory of Taylor onto a man he barely knew, and when that man lost his patience with him, his fantasy was swiftly kicked with the steel-toed shoe of reality. Hell, Ace's reaction after Levi snapped at him may had been due to his illusion of safety crumbling beneath him, but going down the road of this theory, Levi snapping at him might've been the first time Ace truly saw Levi and not Taylor. He had been giving this man a script and a role to play, and Levi responded by tearing up the paper and telling him to fuck off. In a sense, you could say that in that moment, Ace lost Taylor a second time.

Since I don't think Ace is going to be the killer as he was knocked out and thus did not have any knowledge of the murder mechanism (at least not including the theory that he tried to kill himself, which... Is a possibility, but I don't think that's the case). And if he does live past his chapter, I honestly think Chapter 3 will mark his breaking point. Any fantasy of Levi that he was clinging onto with his pinky has now shattered into pieces ten times over, the person who tried to kill him is still alive and for all he knows, could do it again whenever the hell they want to and people will take their side over his own. Next to no one in the cast likes him and they make that explicitly clear, and worse of all, he will still be trapped in this godforsaken...whatever facility this place is meant to be. So to cap off this section that got way too long, Ace Trauma Dump is on my Chapter 3 bingo card, and if we get to see Taylor and his design includes dark blue and purple I will actually become spaghettified. Please survive Ace, you are finally starting to become not C-Tier

Hu and Veronika

Lumping these two together because I have about the same amount to say about both of them and their secrets were revealed together. Hu's secret is the Hopeless Child one, and Veronika's is the Self Harm one. I think after CH2 Part 1 most of us predicted as such, but it's still very satisfying to be right. What I'm more interested is this supposed pact that they made off-screen. I have to assume that Veronika went to Hu pretty quickly to reveal her secret to her given her general disinterest in topics of suicide and self harm. So I'd wager this pact was probably made at around CH2-5. Not that that really tells us much about the actual conversation, but it's nice to have a time-frame for reference.

I don't expect the actual conversation to be shown because from what we currently have it doesn't really add much of anything, but it would definitely be cool.

(x) Hu: I've been quite selfish this whole time, keeping my secret because I didn't want you all to think less of me...

I've said this before in this post, but I absolutely believe that David eventually coaxed and pressured Hu into revealing her secret to him, as well as why she kept it for so long. And I also think David implanted, or I guess more accurately watered the seed in Hu's head that she was inherently selfish for not sharing her secret. That, I think we would benefit from a flashback, but maybe I'm just biased because I desperately want Hu lore. Please DT-Dev, I'm on my knees Hmm... what else?

(x) Veronika: After all, my own so-called secret isn't even the worst thing I've done. Isn't that so utterly disappointing for this motive?

Oh yeah there's that. What the fuck, Veronika? Like, I feel like this is something I should've expected this, but for some reason I didn't. I'll be honest here, I really have nothing right now. But whatever Veronika is referring to here, I feel like it has something to do with her 'dearest friend' mentioned in the CH2 Q&A (who's name is Alyssa Belyaeva.) What Veronika actually did? I do not have the slightest clue, you can never know with this girl. But no matter what she did, I will probably love her even more for it. Glad that DT-Dev seems to agree with the precedence of supporting women's wrongs.

Teruko

...So I'm glad to see we're all in agreement that that is not her fucking secret. I mean, I'm sure it applies to her. She is an orphan, her parents are out of the picture, and though we don't know the whereabouts of her brother and neither does she, she most likely assumes he's dead as well. But honestly, given the fact that again this is not her fucking secret, I'm starting to wonder if that's really the case... Can Teacher Tawaki theory still live on? I'll save that for another post.

Anyway what was I talking about? Oh yeah, that is not her fucking secret.

And this little bitch knows that for a fact.

I won't go too deep into this because there have already been people discussing it better than I could, but this silent agreement the two of them have to not share Teruko's true secret is so palpable and interesting to me. David knows that Teruko's secret isn't that, but for whatever reason, he is keeping his mouth shut. And he just gives Teruko that shit-eating smirk. Have I ever mentioned how much I love Teruvid? I fucking love Teruvid. But yeah, I still think 100% that Teruko's secret is that the killing game is all her fault. It just does not make sense for Xander and Min's secrets to belong to anyone other than each other as they are dead. And in general it just makes sense for Teruko's character and her role in the story. And I can't help but feel like Teruko's actual secret will be revealed at the end of the Chapter.

Eden

... I mean. Do I really need to say more? I swear I made this exact joke in the previous thoughts post, but I can't help it. It applies perfectly to this CG. When this CG, this fucking JUMPSCARE of a CG, popped up on my screen, I'm pretty sure I ran around in a circle screaming in my room for a total of ten minutes. The first of two times I would do that during this masterfully crafted scene. I want to think of some kind of insightful analysis, but the truth is basically in your face. Eden was the one who gouged out Xander's eye. Why did she do it? Where does this fit into the overall lore? I DON'T FUCKING KNOW What the fuck am I supposed to say? This CG is basically all we have, and we'll definitely have to wait for more information. Especially since Eden is totally the culprit, but we'll get to that in the predictions section. (yeah if you can't tell my writing juice is starting to run out, but if I get this out any later than today I will kill myself)

David

(...for a scumbag, he's kinda cute.) So first of all, David is slowly becoming the funniest character in the cast in my opinion, which is a huge achievement in a cast full of very funny characters. And in general I think as a character he perfectly captures DRDT's general tone of half-and-half both silliness and angst, like yin and yang. Secondly though, the big thing that David did in this chapter (besides keeping Teruko's secret and being funny) is lying to Eden about the rest of the conversation he had with Arei. Ultimately, I think David himself saw that action as a good deed.

Think of it from his perspective: This is a man who has had hope and change presented to him on a silver platter multiple times, and then had it violently ripped away from him. And the most recent example of that, Arei, presented him with a better future and the possibility of change only to be killed upon trying to act on said change. If he told Eden that Arei still had hope, that she still wanted to change, it would aspire Eden with that same hope that in his eyes is destined to crash down on her. So instead of inflicting that same pain onto her, he instead chose to say nothing at all Maybe I'm giving David too much credit, what he did was still at the end of the day, incredibly dickish. But that interpretation is what makes the most sense to me personally. That's all I really have to say in regards to David... So, let's move onto what was, in my opinion, the star of this week's episode.

Arei

Arei Nageishi.... Ohhhh save me Arei Nageishi.... Arei was already one of my favorite characters in the cast due to her personality, design, voice acting, and most of all the character development she had throughout the course of Chapter 2. But this episode, this scene... It cemented her a well-earned spot in my top four, sitting only behind Whit, Teruko, and David.

The flashback scene of Arei and David in this episode is honestly up there with some of the best scenes in the whole show to me, almost solely because of how it caps off Arei as a character postmortem, and the story that she, along with Chapter 2 as a whole, is meant to tell. This whole chapter has been themed around the idea of what classifies a good person, and this flashback scene provides such a great payoff to that theme and it is everything I could've ever wished for. The message I got from Arei's story is that, ultimately, the idea of a "Good Person" and a "Bad Person" are nothing more than just that. Ideas. And in being ideas, they are above anything else, arbitrary, subjective, and at the end of the day, incredibly meaningless when it comes to discussing actual human beings. Insistence on categorizing yourself and the people around you into boxes of "pure saint that can do no wrong" and "irredeemable demon who will burn in the pits of hell" is a fast track to viewing a complicated, colorful world into a few shades of black and white. That's how David views the world, and has viewed the world probably for years. And I'm going to be honest and say that I think before being confronted with the truth of David's actions, Arei was heading right down the same path that he had headed.

(x) Arei: Of course I wanted to change myself. Who wants to be a grab-bag of negative personality traits? There's not even anything positive you could say about me. Arei: Still, for the longest time, I thought it was stupid to even try. I'm rotten to the core, and I might as well be a different species from saints like Eden and you. Arei: A pig never hopes to grow up into a human, because it knows that such a metamorphosis is impossible.

And this is the line that really, really makes me think that. She calls David and Eden saints because (up until this moment) she viewed both of them as the ideal of what makes a good person, similar to how David views Xander. And on the contrast, claims herself to be rotten to the core, ontologically evil with no redemption in sight. She's even performing David's habit of self-dehumanization, likening herself to a pig in the same way David likens himself to a cat in the LGI video, which goes to show how this mindset of black-and-white is, above all else, a dehumanizing view on the human race that relegates people into cardboard boxes with the flaps taped shut. If she didn't find out the truth of David's actions, I am confident that she would've done down the same path that he did, becoming convinced that she will be a terrible person until the day she dies because she cannot reach this worthless standard of a good person that she has set up in her head. But we know that's not how it goes. Arei does realize that the man she once thought of as a saint might be, in his words, a lying manipulative scumbaggy piece of shit. And upon realizing that, the second half of the message unlocks itself. There is no such thing as irredeemability.

Change is a part of being human. Humans are not built to run in a hamster wheel for the rest of their days, reliving their mistakes over and over again wallowing in their self-hatred and guilt. Eventually, they have to get off the wheel and start taking the steps necessary to grow, change, develop and flourish to properly better themselves. (This applies to yourself just as much as it applies to the worst, most depraved individual you know by the way) The alternative is living in a four-by-four black box of self-loathing and relentless stagnancy, which is not productive for the person or the people they've hurt. It is only when you reject these black-and-white categories of "Good Person" and "Bad Person" and accept that no matter what you've done, you're capable of becoming better, that you can achieve true growth and change. The way this message was executed, especially through a character that dies before the halfway point of the story, is something that I marvel at as an aspiring storyteller. DRDT's beating heart will always be its character writing, and this scene is one of the primary examples of that. Thank you, DT-Dev, for making Arei Nageishi and the rest of your amazing cast of characters. :D

Extra Thoughts !!! - FURUYA FANDOM (me) THE TRACK PLAYED LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO!!! - I am very excited to find out more about Nico's attempted murder given all of the questions surrounding it. If the method of murder really was replicated, and Nico wasn't the culprit themself, you guys should take a wild guess who that implicates. (this is probably obvious by this point, but I really don't believe in the theories that suggest that someone other than Nico was responsible for Ace's attempted demise, be it Hu or Ace himself. I feel like it doesn't line up with the current narrative direction that Nico seems to be going in, the physical evidence of them stealing the turpentine, and...I'm gonna be honest, I just don't like it lmao. I'm sure DT-Dev would do it well, but just as a premise I do not favor it. Nico's attempted murder + subsequent regret from it felt like such a big moment in the chapter's narrative in relation to the themes of All That Glitters and the cast revealing sides to themself that weren't as prevalent before, as well as the themes of change and moving on from the past littered all throughout the chapter. I think if Nico's attempted murder was responsible by anyone but Nico, it would just dampen the impact of their overall story for me. That's just me though.) - WE FINALLY GOT ANOTHER NONSTOP DEBATE LETS GO BOYS!!! Nonstop debates I MISSED you - "Hey why does Whit know so much about hangi--" Look. This man is so unbelievably suspicious in every single way that for the sake of my sanity, I'm just gonna assume DT-Dev chose a random character to give the hanging explanation. It is the only way I will survive this chapter - But hey, at least we got this

- As always, I adore the new sprites we got this episode, especially Ace's new ones. It's probably the first sprite of his that actually appears emotionally vulnerable when he's not bleeding profusely from the neck. And of course, I loved David's shit-eating grin towards Teruko, I hope he never changes. - Speaking of Teruko, us getting Tutor Teruko was lovely. She is perfect, she is a little bit of everything all of the time.

(x) Whit: If you're so inclined to complain, Sir Light Pollution, why don't you try and think of some good evidence? Charles: Light pollution? Whit: You know… Cuz he had stars, and now he doesn't, and light pollution makes stars disappear… or… or… something….. Charles: I am truly impressed…by how bad that was.

- I love these dorks so much. I can tell DT-Dev has a lot of fun writing them.

- Teronika Consent animation! I guess after Acevi's Soap Opera, DT-Dev decided to feed the yuri crowd as well. Love it when we get to see those little sprite animations, too.

Predictions for CH2-14 - The episode is 40 minutes long, the longest episode we have had so far. (40 minutes of DRDT content... I'm excited just thinking about it!) Because of that, I think I will just start with my biggest prediction: I think we're getting the culprit reveal this chapter. I don't think that just because of the length either. When you really look at it, we have basically used every piece of evidence at least once with the exception of three: - The conditions of the gym (which I assume will be discussed next) - The scuffs on the ground - The ball of starchy clothes All three of those pieces of evidence I think can definitely be cleared up in the span of 40 minutes, especially since full focus is now on the murder case. I don't necessarily think the trial will end in this episode, but I think we have at least one more trial episode to go before the post-trial + execution + ending of the chapter. - And as the culprit reveal is approaching, I have formulated a tier list of who I think is least - most likely to be Arei's culprit. I will provide my reasoning for each.

No. 17/16 - Xander Matthews + Min Jeung I mean, what it says on the tin. They're dead, and thus couldn't had committed the murder. No. 15/14 - MonoTV + Arei Nageishi There are explicit rules against them being the culprit. Rule 8 and Rule 11 in particular. No. 13 - Teruko Tawaki She is the protagonist. Didn't stop Kaede, but I highly doubt that's where DT-Dev is going. No. 12 - David Chiem Other than the previous five who I've all disqualified from being the culprit, David is probably the character I suspect the least. He has an alibi for the time of the murder, getting breakfast with J and Veronika, and thematically...well, he's basically being set up as the antagonist. I don't think we'll be rid of him this early lmao. No. 11 - Charles Cuevas Charles has a fear of blood and dead bodies, and though I wouldn't say that completely disqualifies him from becoming a culprit in the future, in a case like this with such a complicated mechanism like this where he'd have to be in very close proximity with the body at all times? I highly doubt it. He also has an alibi for the fish (He was with Whit). No. 10 - J Rosales J both has an alibi for the fish (Arturo following her around), and an alibi for the morning (getting breakfast with David and Veronika), and both of those alibis can be confirmed. I don't think she did this. No. 9 - Veronika Grebenshchikova I'll be honest, I really don't see Veronika committing a murder at all. She clearly wants to see this through to the end, and killing someone would come with the risk of her being executed, which I don't think she would see as a satisfying conclusion to her story. That, combined with the fact that she has an alibi for the fish (bothering Teruko) and an alibi for the murder (getting breakfast with David and J) makes me think she didn't do this. No. 8 - Nico Hakobyan You might think it's weird to place Nico this low on the overall tier-list despite them not having an alibi for the fishes, and their morning alibi being...somewhat flimsy but I'll get to that with Hu, but here's my logic. Nico was driven to attempt murder from very specific circumstances. That being, Ace's relentless bullying and abuse towards them. Nico has said before that they'd understand murder if the perpetrator didn't like the victim, and while I don't think they exactly liked Arei, I do not think they harbor the same animosity towards her as they did towards Ace. I truly believe that Nico would only ever resort to murder if they truly despised the person in question and saw no other solution. So that is why I feel comfortable placing Nico at eighth. No. 7 - Hu Jing Hu is also another character that I think some will be surprised to see so low, but I don't think this was her doing. She has an alibi for the fish (cleaning up with Eden), and though again her alibi in the morning is very flimsy (having tea with Nico in the morning,) I do believe she is telling the truth because if she was lying about her alibi, I think the brutally blunt Nico would call her out for it. I'm sorry, I just simply cannot imagine Nico letting that shit slide regardless of how many theories I read. Not to mention I can't really think of a motive for why she would kill Arei specifically when, if she really did want to kill someone, Ace is right there. No. 6 - Whit Young Whit is supremely fucking suspicious and a lot of his behavior in the trial is literal shenanigans, even more so given the fact that he doesn't have an alibi for the actual murder. But he does have an alibi for the fish (again, he was with Charles) which is the main sticking point of Whit!Culprit. His other sticking point is his lack of motive, both in terms of the secrets and Arei specifically. I don't know like- just look at this man, do you think he did this? /joke

No. 5 - Levi Fontana The number one suspect in the fandom for a while, and he's only at number five. He ultimately lacks an alibi for the morning, and his alibi for the fish was that he was doing his laundry... With no one else around. Shady as fuck. But I think given his principles discussed in this episode ("it is a good thing to make sure someone else doesn't die"), and the genuine desire to be helpful he has expressed throughout this trial, I think him being the culprit is unlikely. That's why I was adamant on him being an accomplice for a while because I still thought he had some role in the case, but oh well. No. 4 - Rose Lacroix I'll be honest, Rose is only this high because her alibi situation is worse than Whit's and Levi's combined. Both of her alibis are that she was sleeping in her room, which cannot be proven and can be very easily lied about. But other than that, I don't think she is the culprit. I think this case requires too many physical maneuvers for someone as lethargic as Rose to pull off successfully, and if she were the culprit I don't think she'd bring attention to the missing grippy tape at all. No. 3 - Arturo Giles Arturo does have an alibi for the fish (following J), but does not have an alibi for the morning. Unlike basically every other character here, something else that puts Arturo above them is that he was capable of overhearing Eden and Arei's conversation and forging the note. But there is also a discrepancy present that is also present with every character here, and that is the fact that Arturo did not witness Nico's attempted murder or the condition of Ace's body and the gym, so there was no way he could've replicated the murder method used for Ace on Arei. So though logistically he is a more likely possibility, I don't think it was him. No. 2 - Ace Markey Ace, to me anyway, is the second most likely candidate to being Arei's killer. He does not have an alibi for the fish and could've very easily grabbed them after David and Arei left the Relaxation Room, and he doesn't have an alibi for the morning either. He has a very clear motivation for taking a chance at killing someone, of "someone literally sliced my neck open not two days ago and I know I am not safe here I need to get the fuck out." If you choose to factor in strength, Ace is one of the strongest members of the cast and would be more than capable of the physical maneuvers made to kill Arei. Though I personally don't believe in this theory, if you think Ace attempted suicide instead of Nico trying to kill him, he has the murder method down lock too because he tried to commit it onto himself. He has been shown to be nosy, so it is not improbable that he listened in on Arei and Eden's conversation. And lastly, he is one of the only two suspects who was capable of stealing the grippy tape that was used in the murder. All of the evidence is practically stacked against him... But there are a couple of problems. One, if you believe that Nico did try to kill Ace, than the point about Ace knowing the exact method of death goes out the window. He was knocked out by the turpentine, and woke up in extreme pain in a blinding fury of rage and bloodlust, I don't think his surroundings would be the first thing on his mind. But a much bigger issue we have is the question of... Why would Ace take the tape? Following this theory, his murder plan wouldn't had started until the day after Nico's attempt on his life, it would make no sense for him to take the tape then. These two sticking points are why, though a likely candidate, I do not think Ace is the culprit. That award of main suspect goes to...

No. 1 - Eden Tobisa Yeah, if you've spent any time on this account you probably know I'm an Eden!Culprit truther. There are many well-written posts about this theory that I'm sure you've seen so I'll try to keep this short, but though the theory does have a few flaws to it, the big one being Eden's alibi for the fish that she was cleaning up with Hu, I think Eden being the culprit makes the most sense from an evidence, thematic, and motive standpoint. I know some people have dropped the theory upon the fork reveal, but DRDT is not unbeknownst to killing off characters with certain mysteries left unanswered. That is basically all for my predictions related to the culprit, but I still have some predictions for the overall episode. - Nico's gonna get placed in the hot-seat, obviously, which will definitely cause a reaction out of both Hu and Ace. And I honestly feel like the two of them are going to keep interrupting Nico until they eventually snap. And I hope that happens honestly because unless you count the "I'll kill you" line, we have yet to see or hear Nico when they're actually angry angry. Nico obviously doesn't like conflict, but they might have to get over that if they actually want to defend themself knowing the other two. - I'm still holding out hope we'll get a Random Guess segment lmao - And lastly: I need Whit to break the forth wall at least once I didn't put that on the bingo card for fucking NOTHING

Conclusion I'm gonna be completely honest, I do not have the energy to write anymore and I just want this out lmao. But overall, this was one of my favorite episodes in the whole series. I loved the Levi and Ace stuff, I like that we now have all the secrets, and like I said, the scene with Arei is probably one of my favorite scenes in the show. CH2-14 is going to be a wild ride I can already tell, and if we do find out who the killer is, you will see me screaming. Regardless of if it's Eden lmao.

UPDATED SWEAR STATISTICS CH2-13

UPDATED BINGO CARD

[cillyscribbles]

my modern!cats au giving me, an avid non-smoker, thoughts about smoking and self image, of all things. i will put them under the cut, but meanwhile! enjoy this 1. shameless illustration of my own fic 2. tugger not quite loving the makeup (or costuming) of his poet-murderer role. (yes a local staging of roberto zucco changed my life, very nice of you to ask!)

so smoking bad etc etc don't smoke. anyway, all three brothers deuteronomy smoke, or at least have smoked for large chunks of their lives, albeit for wildly different reasons and standpoints.

munkustrap's been smoking since middle school, his start more or less aligning with the time period when old deuteronomy falls sick, grizabella ramps up her work, and munkustrap, at the ripe old age of maybe 14, starts managing the household and finances and whatnot.

he wishes he'd never started smoking, don't get me wrong. he wishes the relief of the thing wasn't worth it. he quits and starts again throughout the years, over and over and over, climbing into the third decade of the habit without being able to break it, never moving past the numbed feeling of failure for it. it's the one crack you'll occasionally catch in that aged picture of constant steadfastness and responsibility he's got going on.

to be unable to handle it all feels to him as good as giving up entirely. he smokes behind the school. he puts away the ashtrays when he has guests over. he doesn't like smoking with company, and he hates his shame being made known. if you'll allow me a pretentious second, it's sort of like an upward climb that he wants to take on alone so nobody else sees him stumble, and no one helps him if he twists an ankle. it's fine by him because he needs to be able to handle it himself. he needs to.

so. all this, versus tugger, who started well into adulthood and barrelled into it full and consciously. tugger, who smokes to replace sleep and sanity when his life runs on cigarettes and caffeine. but nothing more. he doesn't care to quit, he doesn't care to change. cigarettes look good between his fingers. he knows how to hold them pretty, like he knows everything else about himself that builds the picture he wants.

and, on a more interpersonal level, it upsets him that munkustrap is so acutely ashamed of it, the same way munkustrap is upset tugger is so casual about it. to some degree, though, i think that's because tugger's entirely hyperaware of how fragile life is and on how small a technicality shit can go sideways and end up killing him or anyone else. it's hard for him not to think about it. but it gives him some sort of strength to look for morbid humour in the things munkustrap wouldn't let himself laugh at, i think. it's gallows humour, to be fair, but it's good humour to tugger nonetheless. he finds stakes if not thrilling then certainly intriguing.

besides, making any sort of change to himself for other people, to tugger, is like betraying himself. he's built up that resistance to outside influence, and he's built it up hard and total. he doesn't mold, he doesn't bend, he'll do and look and say whatever he wants, he associates seeking validation strictly with misery. he doesn't understand munkustrap's frustration, or desire to please people, nor does he want to.

the thing with how tugger is, i think, is that he's just prodded at enough for both the street culture he grew up in and the inclination towards self-preservation of someone visibly queer to mesh together into something that can be spectacular and unmovable, and sometimes still turn ugly. i think curiosity is easy to push into cruelty with tugger.

shame is easy to mock for someone who's overcome it and tries hard to forget how insidious it can be. i think both munkustrap and tugger can be cruel to each other without wanting to and without really transgressing toward each other in a way that would dent their relationship, primarily because it's such a strong relationship but also because they're used to some sort of cruelty from the world at least, they just know better where to hit each other verbally to mess each other up. so. self-control, boys. comes to one of them easier than the other, LOL. and again, don't get me wrong. tugger doesn't want to be cruel to munkustrap, but it's not always a thing he can push away the instinct for. munkustrap doesn't want to be cruel to tugger, but he's been making hard decisions for ages and all but expects someone to be hurt by the end of it, and tugger is manageable. so. damn

[choiuikawa]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ Rainy Days

CONTENT: it's just you and your boyfriend Kuroo Tetsurou on a rainy day.

WARNINGS: fluff, GN reader, smitten Kuroo, reader hated rainy days, college AU, they both live in the same apartment, lowkey corny, OOC.

author's note: HI! this is my first post on this account, im not good at writing but I do hope you enjoy! ^_^

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

You have always despised rainy days, but your boyfriend? He was the complete opposite. He loves it when it rains, especially on weekends. Whenever it rains and he has practice, he usually comes back home drenched in rain. She doesn't particularly mind, despite the fact that he ends up having fever.

Today was a dreary day, indicating rainfall. You groaned in frustration as it was supposed to be a good day today. You were expecting to go on a date with your boyfriend at a local cafe that has recently opened. Sadly, those expectations were broken down once it started dripping. As the both of you went home, you seemed dejected since you were really looking forward to heading over to that local cafe.

"Why the gloomy look baby? are you okay?" A low pitched voice stops you from getting farther into your headspace.

"Yeah I'm okay." You can't just hide how you actually feel, but being upset over a rainy day because you can't go and head over to a cafe for a date when you could literally just go the next day? You feel stupid.

"Don't hide how you feel. I can obviously tell that something is on your mind. Now tell me, what's wrong?" His voice was tender and gentle towards you, reassuring you that he was there to listen to you.

You hesitate for a few seconds then finally respond to him. "The rain ruined our date today, and I was really looking forward to it. Especially since that cafe has just recently opened.. Including the fact that I've heard that their pastries and coffee's are amazing!" You ranted out towards him with sincerity in your voice.

He looks at you for a moment then his face immediately softens. "Baby, we can just have a date at home. And, we can make good food just like the food and coffee in the cafe. Plus, it's just the both of us. So cheer up okay?" he plants a kiss on your cheek, and your entire mood changes within seconds.

The moment the both of you got home, you had both changed into better clothing and started to brew up your own coffee and bake some delicious pastries. In the process of baking, the both of you messed up the batter since he couldn't stop laughing at the way the batter sort of splashed everywhere while using the mixer. They had both shared laughter and joy together while baking. In the end, it turned out.. decent.. I guess? they both gagged.

After all that has passed, night has fallen upon the day. Currently, it was still raining. Both bodies sprawled onto the couch, her body hugging his while their attention was on the TV in front of them since they were binge watching their favorite shows that they have both shared interest in. The notebook

He turned his attention to her, giving her a kiss on the cheek which caught her attention. "mm? What is it Tetsu?" you giggled.

"Jus' wanted my beautiful lovely partner's attention." he muttered out, purely toned with love and adoration towards you.

You returned back the kiss on his lips, pulling away a few moments later. Your lips had a lingering feel on his, he felt butterflies in his stomach. Sure, it isn't the first time you have kissed, but he was always smiling and looking at you with the most smitten and lovey eyes you could imagine. You never fail to make him fall in love with you again and again.

"I know you don't like rainy days, but this was my favorite day." he proudly says while nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

And there, you realize. maybe,

rainy days aren't so bad after all...

when its with him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

© @cupidsfavors — DO NOT COPY OR REPOST. Reblogs are appreciated!

[redhoodkisser]

jason and dick who helps the reader w a bad relationship w food (hurt/comfort pls)

note ; note at the top this time because i've actually never written hurt/comfort before so i apologize if its terrible

food for thought

content warnings ; reader is suggested to have ed, it will be discussed in both character parts

jason todd

Jason notices a pattern with you and food. Now, don't get him wrong, he doesn't mind if you're a picky eater or not, what matters to him is that he knows you've eaten. But, he's always observed the way you were when there was food served to you. To him, it looked like.. you were struggling to eat? He doesn't know exactly, but he's going to get to the bottom of this. He's not gonna continue watching you starve yourself.

He catches you in the living room, so he settles down right next to you on the couch. He looks at you and squints his eyes at you. You were doing your work on your laptop, but when you realised he was staring at you, your typing slowed down and.. stopped altogether.

“Is.. everything alright, Jason?” You ask in a confused tone and expression on your face. Oh, but, you knew you shouldn't have asked that. That's the exact face he makes when he's about to interrogate you about a certain topic. So, you let out a sigh and immediately surrender. Shutting your laptop and putting it aside, you cross your arms against your chest.

“What is it this time?" Your tone was slightly irritated this time.

“I just had a question about you." He let out a small sigh, ”uh, do you have any.. problems with food? It's because I notice you struggling a bit when it comes to food, I just wanna know if everything's okay, baby. And, that if I can do anything to help. That's all I wanted ask.” He placed his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing it back and forth.

You hated discussing this topic a lot during your teen years and you still do now. It made your blood boil every single damn time someone asked. “It doesn't matter, alright? I'm fine with food, I've always been!" You raise your voice a little bit, telling a small lie. He frowns slightly, “hey, now, when have you ever lied to me about these types of situations?–” “Because they're not just a situation, okay?!” You're now fully shouting at him.

He raises his hands in surrender, “okay, okay, sweets, I'm sorry. But, I just.. I just wanted to try and help. But, I don't know how I'm able to help if you're gonna be stubborn like this.” Tears were slowly building up in your eyes. “Oh, come on, don't cry. I'm sorry, okay? Come here.” You immediately went and wrapped your arms around him tightly, sobbing your heart out in his chest.

His hands were slowly patting your back, rubbing it back and forth a few times as he let you cry it all out. Once she had properly calmed herself down after letting it all out, she took a deep breath in. “I have an eating disorder. And, it's really hard to deal with it. It started all the way from secondary school, I just.. thought I wasn't pretty enough. Every time I ate, I would watch out for how many calories I ate in a day, even counting it all. I just.. wanted to be pretty like everyone else.”

He stared at you for a few seconds before moving his hands up to cup your face. “Babe, do you know how.. how perfect you are to me? I know I can't change your mind on this, but I can and want to try and help you with your eating disorder. I wanna help, 'kay sweets?" He plants a kiss on your cheek.

“..Okay, Jason.” You let out a small chuckle.

dick grayson

Dick's already discussed this matter with you a couple of times, but he still worries for you, you know? So, this is why he sat you down to talk to you about this.

His hands were entwined with yours, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. “What's going on in that pretty head of yours, mm?” He asked, teasing you a bit. “Nothing's going on, Dick." You tried to reassure him, but he wasn't taking it.

“I'm not convinced, come on, tell me what's wrong. Lay it on me, babe.” He also tried to convince you to tell him what was wrong, but you weren't budging at all “I know it's difficult to discuss this so many times, but I just wanna make sure you're okay. I just.. need to know you're okay at all times. Look, if you aren't gonna tell me, it's okay. But, I just want you to know, I'm here for you.” And, with a little push from his words, you let out a sigh.

“Okay, okay. I guess.. it has gotten a bit worse lately. I dunno, okay? I just.. really think I should lay off the food for a bit. I don't want to eat that many calories a day, and I want to go on this die–” Before you could even finish the word, he immediately pressed a finger on your lips, shaking his head.

“No, no, and no. You are not going on that diet again, you hear me? It's bad for you! Don't you remember the amount of times you've fainted? Because you only had a salad in the mornings only, which I'll remind you, is not healthy.” He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn't mad or upset, just a bit disappointed you were gonna take on this diet again without telling him.

He looked back at you again, “babe, I.. I wanna help. Please, tell me how I can help. I don't want to see you putting yourself through that.. nonsense of a diet.” You let out a shaky sigh. “It's not easy, okay? It's never been easy!” You didn't even realize it, but tears were streaming down your face. Dick pulled you for a hug, gently rubbing your back in circles and whispering words of comfort in your ear.

Once you had let it all out, he spoke, “I.. I don't fully understand how this works. You know, eating disorders. I've never experienced it, and I want to guide you through this. I know it won't go away, but if I can just help.. it's all I need to see you okay. Alright?" He says as he plants a kiss on your forehead, pushing away stray hairs sticking to your wet cheeks.

You nod, wiping your tears in the process. “..Thank you, Dick.” You thank him, sniffling. “Of course, babe, you know I'd do anything for you.” He smiles brightly at you, causing you to smile as well.

another note ; hii i know i said this was supposed to be out on the weekend but i had some personal issues to attend to :') sorry to anon who had to wait almost(?) a week for this, but i hope you enjoy it regardless<3

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

TUA Tumblr Simulator pt. 2

Find more here: pt. 1

—

💩is-reginald-hargreeves-dead-now Follow

10/01/2007

NO

💩is-reginald-hargreeves-dead-now Follow

21/03/2019

YES, HE'S DEAD NOW!!!

938,649 notes

🤲health-and-goodness Follow

RIP Sir Reginald Hargreeves

🌄chanceschances Follow

HA, no

FUCK Reginald Hargreeves, all my homies HATE Reginald Hargreeves

256,803 notes

🏰study-hall-monitor Follow

Wait, how old is Reginald Hargreeves? Did he not age? Seriously, look at this photo from 2002 and look at this photo from this year

🦕dino-nuggiez Follow

If you were on Facebook, they'd say he was a lizard person

🐊florida-shaped-being Follow

Fortunately, we're on Tumblr

Which means that people will say he's a crab person

🎃helloqueen Follow

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🍁chaos-is-my-peanutbutter Follow

You fools

OBVIOUSLY he's an alien

👾codey-for-everyone Follow

Wait. Omg. It makes sense!

It would also explain their powers, think about it!

You're an absolute genius, I can't believe no one has ever thought about that before!

🍁chaos-is-my-peanutbutter Follow

Lmao I think you're taking this too seriously buddy

🖍️memecent-van-go Follow

You are ALL wrong

He is actually created in a lab by the government and they said he "died" to surprise us with the biggest April Fool's prank in the history of mankind next week

498,737 notes

🪩 traumallama Follow

Congratulations to all the Hargreeves siblings, I am very happy for you. May you lead a very peaceful and cheerful life now that your dickhead father is gone

🌌 jupiters-moons Follow

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

🌨️ twirlingandwhirling Follow

I just feel bad for The Séance. Wouldn't like to have my abusive dad following me around

👥 lurkeringlurrlurr Follow

By that logic his dead brother, The Horror, would also be following him around

🌌 jupiters-moons Follow

Their names are Klaus and Ben.

🚵 rolly-molly Follow

Can we go back to The Séance thing? I mean, his power is that he can see ghosts iirc, who is to say he can't see Ben? (Also, seriously, The Horror? That must be so bad for a child)

👥 lurkeringlurrlurr Follow

Sure, I guess it wouldn't be impossible

But if *I* had my dead brother following me around all the time, I think I'd lose my sanity

9,734 notes

🪷sweet-sweet-sweeter Follow

Why Reginald Hargreeves kinda hot ngl

🥐food-up-with-this-croissant Follow

Dude, he JUST died

🪷sweet-sweet-sweeter Follow

What? I like old guys!

🌾crying-in-bed Follow

Tumblr user not simping over a white rich dude challenge: FAILED ❌

👾codey-for-everyone Follow

Also he's probably an alien

🪷sweet-sweet-sweeter Follow

Even better for the monsterfuckers

🐍nessiesmuse Follow

The monsterfuckers don't want him either

💟singthissong Follow

Abi, I say this as your friend, your mutual...

Get a better taste in men

🪷sweet-sweet-sweeter Follow

Maybe when I can afford rent, food and bills with one job I will

5,679 notes

☂️brellies-fan Follow

Is that Number Five, aka, The Boy, the one who disappeared 17 years ago?! Why does he still look like 13!? What's happening?!

1,139,580 notes

[smile-files]

nickel and balloon stuff from spring on the breakfast!!! i'm keeping in mind that in the previous episode, both of them were under the impression that their friendship wasn't real...

in a way, ii3 balloon is a lot like late ii3 cabby. of course, balloon did something indisputably immoral (manipulate and exploit others), and cabby only did something thought to be immoral (keep and use files about her fellow contestants) -- but both did something wrong and had to subsequently undergo a disproportionate amount of abuse and malignment for it, ending up with them being apologetic and submissive to avoid any chance of being framed as bad again. the biggest difference is that cabby has internalized the guilt others have attributed to her, while balloon largely hasn't -- he understands the concept of rolling with the punches for the sake of keeping good connections, but he doesn't believe he deserves it.

nickel brushes off ii2 a LOT this episode. to rid himself of his guilt regarding that time, he necessarily has to delegitimize the hatred he felt towards balloon then, thus also ridding balloon of his guilt. he expresses this all vaguely, choosing to remember ii2 fondly and saying off-hand that its baggage should be laughed off -- implying that balloon has been forgiven. reasonably, balloon is happy that nickel seems to actually believe he's changed for the better, so initially this makes him happy.

of course, though, it becomes clear that nickel just wants to shove his own actions under the rug, and balloon reasonably gets pissed off. nickel treated balloon and suitcase like complete garbage in ii2, and balloon clearly hasn't forgotten that.

"it keeps things easy." it keeps things easy to roll with the punches, to endure nickel's abuse and accept his sudden friendship. note, also, that nickel is still placing the blame on balloon: he's saying that balloon didn't want to "make things better", as if nickel and balloon ever having a rift was entirely balloon's fault, and his problem to fix.

and as we can see, nickel still hasn't fully forgiven balloon for ii1. as i've discussed before, nickel seems to secretly feel incredible guilt about how he treated balloon in ii2 (which is why he goes to such lengths to repress the whole memory of it) -- but that guilt is about the way in which he expressed his disdain and distrust of balloon, not those opinions themselves, nor the motivations for them. this is all very interesting, then -- if he still believes balloon can't change from his old, bad self, why did nickel start being friends with him at all?

i think a large part of it is his projection onto balloon. nickel sees himself in balloon: someone who screwed up big-time and isn't able to become a better person after that (according to nickel). we tend to gravitate to people similar to us, after all. i wouldn't be surprised if nickel was also trying to overcompensate for his hostility towards balloon in ii2 by being very friendly with him in ii3, thereby helping him forget that he was ever hostile to him at all.

the most fascinating thing to me about balloon and nickel's relationship is how impersonal it is for balloon. he seems to value what nickel's affection represents rather than nickel himself -- and it represents that he's been forgiven. anyone who saw balloon and nickel's conflict in ii2, which was a product of balloon's nastiness in ii1 and nickel's subsequent inability to forgive that nastiness, would likely come to accept balloon and forgive him themselves if they then saw nickel being friendly with him -- because nickel is the epitome of the ii contestants' anger at him, and nickel of all people (seemingly) forgiving him would imply that he's really changed. the relationship is almost entirely a symbol in that regard. i don't think balloon has much residual guilt about is actions in ii1 -- he feels like he's adequately addressed them and changed -- but nickel having a positive relationship would be helpful in affirming that stance and proving to himself that he really has changed.

i wouldn't say it's cruel of balloon to keep this relationship going on under that pretense, but it is backhanded, and it helps explain why he was ever willing to accept nickel's friendliness unchallenged. he wanted his crimes to finally be laid to rest once and for all, and keeping nickel on good terms with him would let that happen. people would finally shut up about it. up until now, nickel wasn't explicitly denying his past cruelty towards balloon anyway, so balloon would be able to ignore that he neglected to ever bring it up; now, though, nickel is denying not only what he did to balloon but also to suitcase, which balloon is not able to tolerate. now that he's confronted nickel about that though, nickel snaps back with his condemnation of what balloon did in ii1, thereby uprooting the social stasis balloon had been able to maintain precisely because nickel refused to bring anything up before. in a way, then, balloon is purposefully shoving the past under the rug, just like nickel is.

we can't forget, though, that nickel has his own complex about fearing that he's incapable of change and incapable of forming positive, genuine relationships with people. balloon is essentially revealing that, in a way, he wasn't really friends with nickel -- at least not in the way nickel wished and fooled himself into thinking they were. if balloon truly were friends with nickel like that, then that would mean that balloon had forgiven him for his cruelty in ii2, and perhaps that he really has changed... but no. balloon hasn't forgiven him. why should he? nickel never apologized -- and given how he never apologized, it's impossible that he could've changed anyway: nickel doesn't want to apologize because that means addressing his guilt and allowing himself to feel it. he wants the forgiveness to be handed to him on a silver platter, without him having to do all of the painful work, and he's incredibly upset when it isn't. he wants to not be a bad person, but in order to do that, he has to feel like one, and he really doesn't want to. he hates who he was and doesn't want to associate with it at all.

(note how it's the suitcase robot who says "you can say sorry" when nickel says that nothing can be done about making things better...)

there's clearly an immeasurable amount of resentment these two have been harboring for each other throughout this season, which they'd only been hiding for the sake of fooling themselves into thinking they've changed (nickel) or thinking that others think they've changed (balloon). and now that they've let themselves explode with anger, partly related to the lies they'd been telling themselves falling apart, they yell at each other and balloon drops nickel down a hole!

ah, balloon and nickel's relationship... it's bizarre, it's toxic, it's convoluted, it's shady, and it's incredibly sad. i'm glad i'm revisiting ii3, especially this episode -- i used to be utterly baffled by nickel's writing, particularly in spring on the breakfast, but now it makes complete sense to me. also, i used to think balloon was entirely the victim in this relationship, while now i know that he has his own faults and own baggage in that regard. it's weird -- they hate each other, but at the same time they're dying to be liked by one another. god i love these freaks...

[sjywrites]

Hii can I request Sophia x reader academic rivals? 🥺 u can do whatever u want w the plot pretty much please and thank u so much <3 :)

༊*·˚ ACADEMIC RIVALS LOVERS?

𝓢ophia 𝓛aforteza x 𝓖n!reader. (no pronouns used). 𝓖enre. fluff, angst if you squint 𝓢ypnosis. our two favourite academic rivals have a lil fight, but the situation turns bad, and people realize their feelings. 𝓦𝓒 . 824 𝓒𝓦 . mentions of being hospitalised (sophia), a little angsty!

𝓝ote! this is a little messy since I wrote it during one of my breaks, but please lmk if you want like a part two cuz I really liked this plot!

---

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

At this point it didn’t even matter if you were better than everyone, you just had to be better than her. It started off very simple, both of you wanted to be better than everyone, academically that is. Eagerly waiting to get tests back and see who got a higher score, a smug grin on one's face when they got a better result than the other. No harm in that right? Wrong, that’s what started all of this.

Sophia walked towards me with her head held high, her uniform as neat as ever and her hair styled in a way making her look almost angelic. Wait, what? “What were your results?” She said, slamming her paper on top of my desk, I shook out of my daydreaming to answer her. “96.” I said while looking down in my maths book, trying to solve an equation but still focusing on what she would respond. She looks away and a teasing smirk spreads on her lips, and moves the finger that covered her results, 97. “Guess I’m just better than you huh?” She said proudly, staring down at me “Just because you got one point more than me doesn’t mean you’re better than me.” I said, pouting a little at her accusation.

Lately I’ve been feeling kind of… weird? Even if Sophia gets a higher score than me, I can’t find it in me to give a fuck. “Well, you’ve been slacking off a lot lately, I’ve gotten higher scores than you on the last four tests. So, I think that makes it obvious who's smarter!” Sophia states like it was the most obvious answer to what I said. Staring at her for a moment, I reply. “I've been busy okay, not everyone has that much free time to spend on studying, and you're talented in general, no wonder you get high scores” She looks shocked at my statement, then she smirks a little, “Did you just admit that I'm smart?” She looked proud in some way or another, “Not what I meant Sophia, but whatever floats your boat.” I grab my things from the desk and walk outside the classroom to my locker, a little frustrated at the whole situation. I did miss her response,

“I study that much so you won't think I'm stupid.”

A week goes by, no Sophia in sight. She missed two assignments, she's usually here every day. Even if she's sick, which I don't get why she does, but still. Did something happen to her? Was it something I did?

“You've been zoning out for the past like, three periods, what is going on with you today?” Lara, my best friend asks. “Do you know where Sophia is?” I ask, not really thinking before I ask. “Why do you want to know, don't you guys like, hate each other?” She looks at me with a very questionable look, suspecting something I cannot grasp, “Yes? No? I don't know Lara, but do you know where she is?” I say, a little confused and concerned. She looks at me with sad eyes before replying, “Y/N, Sophia got really sick out of nowhere, I heard she's at the hospital.” My eyes blew wide at the shocking news, why didn't she tell me? No, why would she do that? We're not even friends.

—

Am I really doing this? I think to myself as I open the hospital doors and stumble up to the kind-looking man in the lobby. I strike up a casual conversation with him as he guides me to a room, I thank him quickly before he scurries away.

There in the little window on the door I see her, Sophia's sitting down on the bed. Her hair is a mess and her clothes look ridiculous, it looks like she hasn't slept for a few days too. I gently open the door and her gaze falls upon me, it's easier to see her face now. She looks tired, really tired. “Hey…” I say, she looks away from me and cuddles up in her sitting position. “What are you doing here?” she tries to sound annoyed, but it just comes out in a tired huff. “I heard what happened, I… was worried about you. I brought some notes from the classes you missed.” She looks shocked at my confession, she relaxes her posture and her gaze becomes soft. “Thank you… I really appreciate it.” She smiles a little as she grabs the papers I handed her, our hands touching softly.

I look at her, really look at her. For the first time actually having time to admire how pretty she looks, how perfect her flaws are. “I just came to give you that… so if you don't need anything else, I'll go.” I turn around to walk away, grabbing the door knob and turning it around, “Wait! Will you… please stay with me a little longer, I need it.

I need you.”

this is so messy I'm sorrrrryyyy!! I wanted to post something today at least :((

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

"Him guilting Ladybug into staying quiet is why Lila is able to maintain her power for 4 more seasons."

I mean, I would blame more the writers for taking way too long to have Adrien realize his advice was bad.

(Post the quote is from)

Reminder that I am never actually blaming the characters, they are not real people. That's why this is explicitly a writing blog. In the context of the writing, yes, the pacing of everything Lila was terrible and is the real source of the issues. That doesn't change the fact that Adrien is the main narrative tool used to keep Marinette in line, thus me "blaming" him.

As you said, Adrien looks bad here not because he didn't understand how to handle the situation and gave bad advice, but because it takes him so long to realize that his advice was bad and apologize.

During Lila's first appearance, we see Adrien chastises Ladybug for being too mean to Lila, never once acknowledging that it was valid for Ladybug to be upset (S1E26). She is painted as fully in the wrong even though Lila was actively manipulating him and Ladybug arguably protected him here:

Adrien: Wait! Lila! (Lila runs away) Hey, what was that all about? Uh, I mean, weren't you kinda harsh with her? Ladybug: I...I don't put up with lies, especially when they're about me. (yo-yos away)

During Lila's second appearance (or, at least her second appearance where she actually interacts with the cast) he further drives that message home by telling Marinette to let Lila lie to people because he's more worried about hurting Lila's feelings than he is about removing Lila's power (S3E01):

Adrien: Are you going to tell everyone? Marinette: 'Course I am. Lila is— Adrien: (interrupting) A liar. Yes, I know. But do you really think exposing her will make things better? If you humiliate her, she'll just be hurt more. Making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy. Lila: Ladybug and I are like two peas in a pod. Marinette: So we just stand by and let her lie? Adrien: As long as you and I both know the truth, does it really matter? Marinette: You're right, maybe it's not such a big deal.

We'll circle back to how terrible this advice was in a second. First lets finish off going through the sequence of events.

And finally, at the tail end of season five, Adrien openly acknowledges that he's been giving terrible advice (S5E20):

Adrien: I'm sorry, Marinette. I was wrong. I shouldn't have told you to not act against Lila. If you give the slightest opportunity to people like her, they'll grasp at it and cause disasters in no time. And now, you're the one who looks like a bad person. Marinette: (reaches out to hold his hand beside her) You thought you were doing the right thing. Just like with Chloe. That's another reason why I love you, Adrien. You always want to see the good in other people. But sometimes, the good we think we see in some people is just a reflection of our own, and we end up being fooled by our own kindness. (They squeeze each other's hands.) But we'll find a way to expose Lila eventually.

If we look at these three moments in a vacuum, this is honestly a good character arc for a character like Adrien. He's a peace keeper, which is a wonderful match to Marinette's blind justice approach. It's good that Adrien is there to balance her out! It's also good for him to learn that his approach doesn't always work and that you can't always keep the peace.

The problem is that Adrien didn't actually get a functional character arc where he learned those lessons. The episodes are so drawn out that it doesn't feel like we watch him grow and learn. His apology is almost three full seasons after his second bit of bad advice, leaving us to wonder when he changed his mind because Lila does a lot of awful things during those three seasons. What moment made him realize that he was in the wrong here? We don't know, so this feels less like growth and more like the writers throwing in a scene to shut up fans who were still complaining about Adrien's terrible advice even though it had been four real world years since he actually gave it.

There's also the issue that Adrien tells Marinette, "making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy." This line implies that Adrien's goal is to help Lila change. The problem is that we never see him do that. He doesn't try to help Lila. The most we get is him making a deal with Lila to protect Marinette, but that's not him helping Lila change. He doesn't approach that conversation as if he's trying to help Lila see that what she did was wrong. He approaches it as if he knows that she won't change. It's less trying to make Lila a better person and more a deal with the devil:

Adrien: (sits next to Lila) I warned you once already, Lila, but you didn't listen. You hurt my friend Marinette, and that's not okay. Lila: Me? Hurting Marinette? But she's the one who- Adrien: I don't know how to prove you lied, Lila, because you're good at it. So you'll just have to come up with another lie, just as convincing. Only this time it's gonna prove Marinette's innocent. Lila: Why would I do that, Adrien? Adrien: Because we're friends, aren't we?

Minor Chloe rant incoming:

This is yet another situation where it would be so much better for the show if Adrien had actually done something to help Chloe change and succeeded. If he did that, thought it was a good path for everyone, and then tried to do the same thing for Lila, then this could have been a really great way to set him up for dealing with his dad. To teach him that you can only help people who want to be better without having everyone he tries to help stay "evil" as that's pretty depressing. As-is, we've literally seen him say that Chloe will never change so why does he believe that Lila can change? They're not portraying him as an optimist, they're portraying him as delusional. Terrible writing. Zero stars.

Rant over.

By the way, the above quote was the 24th episode of season three, roughly two seasons before Adrien's apology to Marinette. If he's viewing Lila as the devil here, then this should be where we get that apology. Or Adrien should approach this as him trying to make Lila better and Lila should play along, making Adrien think that he's right and that he's helping her change. Either approach would be better than the nonsense canon gave us.

In a well written show, this would all go down over the course of a single season or even just a few episodes. As-is, the season five apology feels like too little too late. What little kid is going to be able to follow this "character arc" and learn the lesson that Adrien maybe sort of learned? Casual viewers will likely not even remember that Adrien gave Marinette bad advice back at the start of season three because why would they? This is not how you do a good subplot. It's almost as drawn out as the Gabriel plot and that's insane! A subplot is supposed to be a short story within the story so that things feel like they're moving forward.