#ill find it when im packing probably

[theonetrueyeet]

spider ramble... particularly about false widows

in a Mood™ abt spiders currently, ESPECIALLY false widows. been going back over my arachnid section of the invertebrate module bc i have exams soon and its late and im frustrated abt how false widows get portrayed by the media and percieved by the british public... this is gonna be long and rambly and probably not make much sense and go off in a million and one diff directions sorry i just feel like talking abt spiders. this also came about bc of the big fuckoff house spider that was in my room last night on the top of my door frame but since it was late (like. midnight) and also out of my reach i went eh. ill deal with it in the morning. and then i woke up in the morning and no more spider to deal with! which i should be more stressed about i feel but im so exhausted from the run up to exams and other life stuff that im just like ok cool thats Around somewhere now ig. im guessing it was a female from the size but i cant be sure... anyway without further ado onto the main show.

so here in the uk we arent exactly known for our venomous animals. we have some but they're nothing really that dangerous (to us as humans at least. im not going into venom-prey specificity rn ive had ENOUGH of that recently). we have the european adder (which is also percieved as terrifying bc its a venomous snake but it poses very little risk to us as humans bc they are very shy and i have a lot to say abt adders but thats for another day), wasps, bees, some venomous fish (didnt know this until i found one rockpooling they r pretty neat), even some stinging jellyfish and siphonophores like the portuguese man o war. and then we have the spiders. all species of spider are venomous (minus the uloboridae family, aka the cribellate orb weavers which im not too sure off the top of my head if we have those in the uk... we might have one or two species?? idk but they arent venomous and i think theres another family that has some non venomous spiders BUT THE POINT IM MAKING IS PRETTY MUCH ALL SPIDERS ARE VENOMOUS). there are 650ish spp of spider in the uk and of those VERY FEW are at all medically significant. of these few are the rabbit hutch spider, the cupboard spider, and... the noble false widow. these 3 spiders are all known as false widow spiders. we also occasionally get the meditterreanean false widow, but to my knowledge these only arrive on imports and dont have a population within the uk.

belonging to the genus steatoda, false widows are usually seen as these terrifying death spiders that will kill you just for looking at them when really... they arent actually that dangerous. most cases of bites being severe are either a) a result of an allergy or b) it was actually caused by something other than the bite itself (such as a bacterial infection in the bite, or the "bite" not actually being a bite) or even c) greatly exaggerated by the tabloids (shocker)... like ok we dont have many scary animals in the uk but. we dont need to overexaggerate the ones that really arent as bad as people think! badgers probably pose more of a threat to you than a false widow does. have you seen a badger?! they look so cute but they are VICIOUS those things will FUCK YOU UP and give you TB on top of getting absolutely mauled. a false widow will, at most, just make you feel a bit ill for a couple of days. me personally i would take a falsie over the badger. false widows also only bite in defense! most of the time they bite because you didn't see them and happened to be a very big thing up in their personal space! tbh i would bite too

false widow bites are, to most people, no more harmful than a wasp sting. so its not exactly a fun time but its not exactly the limb destroying death bite that the british media loves to make it out to be. most bites are probably dry bites or have near neglible amounts of venom, so won't cause anything more than a bit of pain. when venom does get involved it gets a bit more complicated bc it depends on how ur body reacts to it. as i said before, most ppl its not much worse than a wasp sting but it can cause things like muscle spasms, sweating, and a raised temperature. it rarely gets worse than that. of course you can be allergic to it which will cause anaphylaxis which is a medical emergency, but this is an exceptional circumstance. most ppl bitten by a false widow will not experience that. the panic over false widows in the uk is a mixture of media-driven mass hysteria and arachnophobia.

anyway in conclusion shoutout brandon collier who did an amazing talk abt false widows during the bhs venom day both at the 2022 and 2023 events both of which i was lucky enough to attend. if i cant go to venom day this year you will see me on the news.

[theygender]

Drank a vitamin water today that made my tongue tingle almost as if it was carbonated for no discernable reason (I drink this flavor all the time so I know that's not normal. checked the expiration date and checked for holes in the bottle but everything looked fine?) and then for dinner I accidentally ate undercooked tilapia. Am I going to die

[be-good-to-bugs]

UGH why does eating always make me feel like throwing up :/ that is the opposite of what i want

[fluffylino]

worried!minho

minho wants to take away all your pain~

-contains mature themes

when were the cramps going to go. it was your second day of having your period. you had leaked through your pad and stained your clothes. now, you sat on the bed, swaddled up in a bedsheet while a random anime was playing on tv.

you were far too distracted to even pay attention to the dialogues. another sharp pain to your lower stomach. you huffed, wrapping your arms around your stomach. you curled up into a ball, adjusting your pad which had moved out of place.

minho's footsteps could be heard. he was busily moving about. from the kitchen, to the living room and then to check on you.

"how are you feeling, baby?" you jumped at the sudden appearance. he was standing beside you, looking at your bundled up figure with soft eyes. you let out a whine, lightly kicking your legs. you could hear his quiet laugh.

"mm' hurts" you mumbled, reaching your hand out. he took it, sitting close to you. he brushed your hair out of your face and leaned over you to take the remote. switching off the tv.

"still?" he seemed worried.

the thing was, it was rare for you to get cramps. you hardly ever got cramps that made you stay in one spot. on any other period you'd only feel a slight discomfort in your stomach. but today was different. you weren't used to it. and minho wasn't used to seeing you in such pain.

you looked at him through the bedsheets, only your eyes and mouth visible. his smile grew and he couldn't help but pat your head like you were one of his cats. which to him you were.

"i gave you a heating pad..we did some muscle relieving exercises and drank lots of water..what else could possibly work?" minho furrowed his eyebrows, his lips jutting out as he blinked. and blinked. and blinked-

"you know there is something that definitely works for sure. i was reading that orgasms help"

your eyes widened and then you slowly sighed.

well, that was true. but sex on your period would just end up looking like a crime scene. it made you feel confused. because yes, all the raging hormones were constantly at battle with your mind.

"but its icky and you'd probably find it...not so nice"

minho looked at you. "what makes you say i wouldn't like it?"

you were taken aback. did he really not mind?

"i don't think i want to do the...whole thing" you mumbled, shyly.

"so then should i try eating yo-" you screamed, pushing the bedsheet over him. shivering at how cold the room actually was.

"no no no" you chanted. that was not something you'd ever want to put him through, for the sake of your pleasure. you were aware of him. he didn't care about blood at all. in fact he was so chill about it. like the time you accidently stained his pants when you fell asleep on him.

he even washed out the sheets.

he ruffled around, throwing it on the ground. he scooted closer.

"should i finger you then, hm? that shouldn't be so bad, would it?" you nodded slowly.

"but what if i make a mess..again"

"i'll put a towel underneath"

"what if you get blood all over your fingers..."

"baby if i did mind it, i wouldn't have been so eager to suggest it"

he smiled. minho was ever so patient. always answering you with a reassuring statement whenever you fell down a spiral of unecessary thoughts.

"can you use gloves...?" you asked so softly, you had to repeat it for him to hear.

"whatever you want, baby. i recently just bought a whole new pack of gloves for when im marinating meat"

you smiled nervously.

"guess ill be using them to touch some other kind of meat" you pushed him off the bed. he gave you a sarcastic smile. your stomach doing flips at his expression.

.

you stood up, freezing when you felt a blood clot come out. there was no way you could do this. you finally decided on washing your lower body. so you did, carefully stepping out of the bathroom.

"take your pants off.." minho had come back, this time pulling the gloves up and over his wrists.

oh, so they were like the surgical gloves. the ones that fitted well...a little two well. his hands looked nice. they looked very nice in fact-

"what? you don't want the gloves? i don't mind" your eyes met his and doubt filled him. if only he knew what you were actually thinking about.

"i want it"

he had laid the towel down and you sat on it. you pulled your oversized shirt down, trying the cover up.

minho walked towards you, opting to sit behind you. his back resting against the headboard and your back to his chest. you felt a little exposed. he was fully clothed while all you wore was a t shirt.

you could feel his breath on your ear. minho's left hand rubbed on your stomach while his right hand slid between your legs.

he let out a surprised laugh. you knew you were wet. he could feel it. after seeing his hands in those latex gloves, you couldn't fight it.

"be a good kitty and open up for me"

you mewled at the nickname. lifting your knees up while he kept your legs open for him. he pushed a finger inside before slowly adding a second digit.

at this point you weren't sure if it was blood or slick or maybe both that leaked out onto his fingers.

"sorry" you apologized, you didn't even know why you were saying sorry. the pain in your stomach was the last the thing you were worried about.

"talk t-to me" you whispered, leaning into him. he lazily grazed his thumb over your clit while his digits pumped inside of you. with just enough pressure to not be too much for you.

"its okay, baby...you're doing so great, let me see how well you take my fingers" you moaned, as he pressed his palm against your heat. the latex feeling unusually nice. on your skin. and especially inside you.

"n-nice hands"

"yeah? you think my hands are nice? what do you like about my hands hm?"

he asked. he wasn't teasing you. he wasn't even joking about it. in fact he seemed to be curious. he wanted to feed into you.

"v-veiny..pretty and big...feels amazing inside of me" you answered back, bucking your hips when he added a third digit.

"you sure you aren't talking about my dick, kitten?"

"that even" you blabbered. letting him hook his chin on your shoulder. his breath hitched when you traced the veins on his forearms. they were so prominent. you wanted to lick them.

"that good, hm? who knew you'd be so attracted to my arms"

another warm sensation between your legs. his gloved fingers gliding in much smoother. you wanted to cringe at the sqelch it made every time he pushed in.

"you know, you have such a pretty little pussy, kitten?"

you blushed, trying to hide away from his comments. he nuzzled against your neck.

"i can't resist when it comes to you. i want to give you everything that i can"

willingly you parted your mouth, taking his other fingers in. he pressed down on your tongue. you sucked on them.

"you'll take anything i give you, won't you because you're my obedient princess"

[carmenized-onions]

Zero Pulse. | Oven Hotfix

logline; It's Friday.

[!!!] series history, this is the tenth; You're gonna need to check to make sure you're caught up babe because there's a LOT of context behind this one.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. Wish you could sort by emotions, on playlists, but this is really a very good playlist i think.

portion; 12.5k Jesus Christ, new record.

possible allergies; Incredibly excessive hateful self-image, very frivolous way of talking about mental illness/death/Mikey, I'd say just like ? stress? BLOOD ALSO !! minor cut dw

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (gets she/her'd into oblivion this round, mb)

said it before i'll say it again, this is the new best and longest chapter i've written-- of all time now. and im being so fr if i don't get actually like harassed in my inbox with the amount of people chattering about this i will WALK INTO THE PIER BITCH

It’s Friday morning, and today is the first day in possibly years that Carmen has actually snoozed his alarm. Opting to sleep in for an extra hour, despite how uncomfortable his whole body is where it lays. He’s trying to avoid waking up today— Because he knows, he can tell: Today is just not going to be his day, today. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, today— Not even—

He fell asleep on his couch, last night. His TV is still on and when he turns it off, it sizzles from being on the stupid Cooking Channel for so long. He’s covered in crumbs, hands coated in chip dust— Chin and neck sticky with spilled Diet Coke. Just don’t wake up and you won’t have to clean it. The day can’t get him, if it never starts.

But then his alarm rings again, for maybe the hundredth time, and there’s no real reason as to why this time is different from the other times, but he suddenly remembers why he fell asleep on his couch, last night. Why he had such a difficult time crawling just fifteen feet further when he got home last night. His face grows hot and red with shame and embarrassment, like a child.

A plate was sent back. A plate he made, was sent back.

Most would find it too dramatic, but he really did almost throw up. Syd gave him an antacid— From a pocket pack that you gave her. Did it help all that much? No. But at least he kept everything down. He just heaved a lot, in the walk-in. Probably good that he didn’t eat much of anything, yesterday.

He’d been thinking far too much. Spent way too long thinking about what to make for you, tonight— Which is fine, you’re inspiring— But he should’ve been keeping those thoughts to pen and paper. But he was making the stupid fucking roux for the stupid fucking order and his autopilot system got all mixed up and suddenly he was making a fantastic Montmorency, but an awful roux. Fucking brain dead, Berzatto. Talentless. Can you not handle this?

How is it possible, to fuck up that bad? You’re terrible at this. His instinct— Everyone’s instinct was to tell the patron to get off their fucking high horse. There’s always that one guest, that thinks they own the goddamn place. But then the dish came back to the kitchen, and everyone just stared. Silent. He was mortified. Is it too much for you? Practically unrecognizable, from what was ordered. It was entirely his fault. Dumb fuck. So fucking slow.

What happened to him? Seriously, what the fuck happened, to him? How could he possibly forget what’s important here? What’s at stake? He can’t look himself in the eyes when he brushes his teeth. Why are you so fucking slow? You are bullshit.

Regrettably, you happened to him; in a good and bad way.

He sighs, washing your conditioner out of his hair in the shower. Scrunching it, as you’d directed. He listens, he does. He takes direction well. Go faster, motherfucker. And he likes you, Carmen does. You are not tough. And he doesn’t fault you for being a good person, no, he faults himself.

He’s not meant to be a good person, he’s meant to be a good chef.

He’s not meant to be a good work partner, with Syd— That doesn’t get results. Everyone thinks they’re happier when he’s happier, sure, but they’re in the red. They’re not gonna be so fucking happy when their cheques start bouncing. It doesn’t matter how good a person he is— What matters is what he’s actually capable of providing— And it’s not amusement or enjoyment— It’s fucking talent. But he sought out your affections, your approval, in a key moment, in every moment— In place of who he should’ve— A Michelin Inspector.

He's let himself forget, what it meant, what it takes, to get a star.

And that made him fuck up a dish— A simple fucking dish. Again, not your fault, his. But God, he wants both. Carmen needs both. He can have both. You should be dead. He just needs to lock it in, keep it tight, push it down, comb it back, you should be dead—

He needs to spray his hair with rosemary, it’s looking thin. The basil on his balcony is coming in nicely, though.

It’s just hit four o’clock when you’re mostly finished getting ready— Well, you are ready, but, y’know, final checks and all that. You smooth out your palazzo pants. Gotta look presentable. Or at the very least, normal.

The Bear is high-class, you’re not going there as a repairman, tonight, for once. Plus, Richie wears suits twenty-four fucking seven now— So you need to dress accordingly, or he and every other guest there are going to look at you like you’re some broke freak. Which, like, not inaccurate, but still hurtful. You’ve broken out the good but not too good jewelry. Money talks, wealth whispers, or some shit. Black turtleneck, blue pants— To match the stupid fucking Executive Chef’s eyes, or whatever, shut up! The pants are not actually that bright, but you think they’d still pair well with Carmen. And even if they didn’t, they match The Bear’s aesthetic, and you like to remain on theme, even when there isn’t really at all a required theme.

Not like you’re going to be seeing much of Carmen tonight, anyway. As much as you’d like to see him, he didn’t send you his Connections, this morning, not even after you sent yours, and you’re taking that as a sign that today is probably rough. And not in the way that can be helped by talking to a person, either, in fact, probably the exact opposite.

You debate whether or not to wear Carmen’s jean jacket. This is a thin turtleneck, and it’d go really well with the whole outfit, and like, Sydney already caught on— It’s only a matter of time before the whole kitchen clocks it.

Yeah, fuck it, hard launch this situationship. You toss it over your shoulders. Okay, okay, one last last final fit check. Hm. Yeah, you’ve definitely gotta put the necklace away. You kiss the plastic pendant for good luck, before tucking it under your shirt. Not ready for that story, just yet. You will be, eventually. But you certainly don’t want Carmen to notice and ask about it. Soon, though. You will, soon.

You grab your purse, your keys, your finished art piece— Wrapped, neatly, in brown paper, with a little card taped to it. Okay, that’s everything. One last last last final review. Makeup? Great. Hair? Perfect. Outfit? Stunning— Fuck, what shoes are you going to wear? Fuck fuck fuck—

Alright, you know it’s not the shoes you’re worried about. Just get out the door, Chip. It’s gonna be fine, Chip. Dinner’s gonna be good, and normal, actually, because two people having their first real one-on-one conversation after their mutual best friend killed himself just under a year ago is historically always super calm and chill and normal, actually. That’s how that works. It’s not gonna be tense, at all.

This is immediately so tense. “Hey. Good to— Good to see you.”

You go in for the hug, so does Richie, only then do you both realize how full your hands are. And then it becomes a weird side hug from you combined with a full hug from him. It’s terrible, this is terrible, this is so tense. Maybe you can still run and have it not be weird, somehow.

“You— Too.” Richie clears his throat, “Cousin.”

It’s not like this is the first time you’ve seen each other since, no, you’ve seen each other thrice now, but it was different all those times. You were helping Carmen escape a freezer, or having an episode over a broken toilet, or delivering a baby— It wasn’t awkward all those times because it couldn’t be. You didn’t have time to be awkward, they were always emergencies.

“So uh, Fak’s gonna be our, our server?”

“Yessir.”

“He any good?”

“No-sir.”

But this meet up is intentional, booked. It’s got a point to it, and both of you know what it is. You’re just anxiously waiting for the other person to be brave enough to bring it up. Thankfully, neither of you have to, just yet, as Fak sidles up to the host stand.

He’s pushing so many buttons on the P.O.S. before even speaking to either of you that you’re starting to believe he doesn’t know what the fuck the buttons he’s pushing are doing. Based on the way Richie starts to lean over the stand to see what he’s doing, you’re pretty sure you’re right.

“I— I got it, man.” Fak puts a hand up, defensive. Richie backs up, then gestures for Fak to get the fuckin’ show on the road. He does.

“Table for, for uh, how many are you?”

“Oh wow.” It comes out of you instantly, in a true state of shock, at how bad this is already going. You cover your mouth, uh oh, inside thought became outside thought. “Sorry!”

Richie loses it, next to you. You slap his shoulder with your free arm, but you’re laughing too. “Don’t be mean!”

“You’re the one bein’ mean, Chip!”

“I didn’t— He’s trying.” You turn your head back to Fak. “I— Table for two, darling. M’sorry.”

Fak is quick to fold and forgive you, you’ve just called him darling— If a siren ever called to him, he would be dead. “Right, right this way— My name is Neil, I’ll be your server, tonight.”

You follow him to a table that lets you see pretty well into the kitchen. It’s a decent trade-off for not getting a cozy little booth. You look into the window, everyone’s far too focused to know you’re here, right now, but that’s okay— It’s not rushed right now, though, so that is a little… weird.

Richie pulls out your chair, fake Italian chivalry, and what not. When you’re half way through sitting down, a few things are realized instantly, and all three of you speak simultaneously.

“Oh, I should drop this off in the back, first.” Your art piece, you mean.

“Is that Carmy’s?” Your jacket, Fak means.

“You’re fucking Carmen?” What the fuck else could Richie possibly mean.

“I—” You pause, pointing to Fak, first. “Yes, it is.” Then pivot to Richie, “No, I’m not. It’s more like a reservation—”

“Don’t talk about your sex life like it’s a restaurant.” He waves his hand in the air, immediately regretting asking. Listen, it was just the first metaphor on the brain.

“You fuckin’ asked! And we haven’t done shit yet— Not even a fuckin’ date, a’right? Technically not even dating.” It takes maybe, two seconds, in the presence of Richie, for you to go full Chicago accent. It’s unhinged. You have to stand up. “I’m gonna drop this off, in the back.” You lift up the wrapped piece. “I’ll be back, don’t be weird.”

As you walk off, you do your best to pretend you don’t hear Fak mumbling, “Bet it’s one of those sex paintings.”

But it’s very hard to do so when Richie all but booms out a resounding and genuinely baffled, “...What?”

As much as you’d like to continue to hear that insane conversation, you swing through the door, and it’s thankfully a pretty soundproof divider, considering all the yelling you know happens in here.

“Chefs, table twenty-four, two people.” “Yes, Chef.”

Or… Maybe… It’s instead, weirdly subdued? In a tense way, not a calm way. Like when a knife falls off a table, and you’re not sure if it’s going to stab you in the foot and there’s no time to pull back.

“Twenty-one, four people.” “Yes, Chef.”

That kind of quiet. The calm before the storm, maybe. The fall before the blood, you think may be more accurate. God, Syd looks exhausted and it’s only half past four. The rush hasn’t even started yet. Why are they pushing so hard, right now?

Carmen’s on expo. Which, based on the night terrors he told you about, seems like a recipe for fucking disaster. Again, he’s not yelling. His voice is monotone, it sounds dead, frankly, and you’re wondering if you would prefer him screaming, actually.

There’s a mantra, amongst first responders, that it’s better to hear screaming than silence, because then you know they have a pulse, they’re drawing breath, they’re able to feel. You can’t honestly tell, with Carmen.

Syd hands off a plate to expo, to Carmen. He calmly, quickly— And like, really quickly, barely more than a two second glance is given, to the dish, before he says, “Refire, Chef.”

Oh, Jesus Christ. Not your business, not your restaurant, don’t overstep. But God, it hurts to watch the order hit Syd in the face, like a splash of cold water. She repeats, in disbelief. “Refire?” The dish looks fine to her— And it sure as fuck looks fine to you.

“Yes, Chef.”

“Why, exactly? Chef?”

Carmen does not look up from his system, he does not watch what is practically heartbreak, mortification, tempered anger, play out on Syd’s face. “Not perfect. Fire twenty, twenty-five— Two waiting on twenty, Chefs.”

“Heard!”

“Not perfect?”

He looks up, finally, at her. You can only see the back of his head, so you can’t tell the look. “Sauce is broken.” It’s definitely not. Well, at least to your untrained eye, it’s not. “We don’t serve what’s not perfect. Do we, Chef?” He slides the plate aside, deading it.

“Do you want your star, or not?” You don’t think he means to be antagonistic, or at least hope he doesn’t, but it really comes off that way. He rubs his chest, but his tone lack empathy.

Syd closes her eyes, taking a breath. She has so many words, for this man, but she holds her tongue. She does not rub her chest in return, she just restarts the dish. “Yes, Chef.”

“Thank you, Chef.”

There’s a lull in orders, for the moment, so you very gently place your hand on Carmen’s back, to make him aware of your presence. As gentle as you try to be, he still flinches. Anyone over his shoulder would make him flinch right now, but it’s you. “Oh—!”

Now, do you let out a small yelp, inadvertently, when he turns to look at you, and you see him as he is right now? Yeah, yeah you do.

“—Good to— Did you just scream, at the sight of me?”

Syd puts a hand over her mouth, heavy exhale of laughter still escaping through her nose. Schadenfreude.

Your mouth hangs open, for a second, squinting, goddammit, inside thought got outside, “…No?”

“What— What, I look bad?” He’s immediately looking over himself, trying to find the culprit. And though the emotion he’s feeling right now is insecurity, you feel relief that at the very least, the glow of anything is shining through him, right now.

Doesn’t make you a fan of the slicked-back hair look, though. That’s what made you yell— Like when a dog or a baby doesn’t recognize their parent. Like when Mikey shaved for the first time after you met him, and you considered him completely unrecognizable. You practically ignored him until some stubble came in. What did he expect?

You also just don’t like it. Clean-Shaved Mikey nor Hair-Gel Carmen. The pomade is overpowering your shampoo, and now he doesn’t smell like you. Doesn’t smell like him. His curls are all gone— Man, his pattern was just starting to revive, too. He looks just too clean, too cookie-cutter, too… Someone else. He just doesn’t look like— “No, Bear, you look good— I just— You look— Don’t look like the Carmy I’m used to, is all.”

Who are you to tell him what he looks like? You don’t know why, but the energy today is just making you feel like… You’re intruding, you’re stepping in on a space that has nothing to do with you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth, right?

He nods, compartmentalizing, only acknowledging that you’ve said he looks good. “You look nice.”

“I clean up.” You shrug, it gets a nearly imperceptible smile out of him. Hm. Where’d your Carmen go? He’s really making you work for it, tonight. You gesture to your painting, holding it by your knees. “Not here to disrupt, M’just gonna put this in your office, for later.”

“Painting?”

“Incredible guess.” Again, that smile and that exhale of laughter, thin. “Yes, it’s the piece— Wait ‘til close, to open it, please.”

He nods, when you start to walk off, he grabs your arm. “Ah, uh—” He lets go. “Can I, uh— I planned— I planned an off-menu main, for you, is that, that okay—”

“It would always be okay, yeah.” You nod, reassuring. It would be more than okay, if Carmen decided and designed every meal you ever had for the rest of your life, you think. “Trust you— With, with my taste buds.”

You’re not sure if it’s the right move, but you awkwardly step forward and kiss Carmen’s temple anyways— In his hairline. He seems to care a lot about appearances, right now, so you don’t want to get lip gloss on his forehead. Despite your quickness, there is still a very childish ‘ooooh’ reverberating throughout the kitchen. But he’s ignoring it, so you ignore it too. Carmen, more than anything, would like to reciprocate, but he’s running a kitchen, and he cannot let himself nor the crew get distracted. He nods, smile small, and turns back to his station.

“Waiting on twenty, Chefs.”

You don’t take it personally; the guy is busy, what can you do? You drop the painting off in his office, leaning it against the table for Carmen’s perusal after close— It’s not the kind of piece he should look at during his break— Who are you kidding, you saw him, he’s not taking a break tonight. God, he might hate this piece. What if he hates this piece? It’s a risk you have to take, it’s art. Hopefully the card will help smooth any questions over. You’re clearer over text, you think.

On your way out of the kitchen, you nod to Marcus and Tina. A sign of ‘Hey, I’m here, I know we can’t talk, but I’m here.’ They nod back. When you pass Sydney, you take a moment to squeeze her shoulder. That star thing was rough, but you don’t know enough about cooking to intervene— It’s not your place. Still feel for your girl, though. Awe, you’ve only just noticed, she’s wearing your collar pins. She puts her free hand over yours, squeezing it in return, just for a second. She doesn’t turn to face you, but the silent encouragement and sympathy is exchanged. She gets back to work, and you get back out to the front.

If there was time for it, you’d be her designated coach and cheerleader, find a motivational bookshelf to carry somewhere again and give a speech, but there’s not. So, this will have to do, for now.

Fak is absolutely bombing every step of this introduction, when you sit back down. The second-hand embarrassment is truly eating you alive, as he stumbles through today’s specials, which, you’re pretty sure is not the order these things happen in—

“Hey, uh, Neil, wasssit?” Richie scratches his nose, attempting to play the part of blind customer. “How ‘bout drinks first, bud?” He’s trying to keep a sympathetic attitude, which is making all of his pointers come off as extremely passive aggressive.

“Yeah, for sure, right, yeah— What’uh— What can— Drinks? Hey, hey you want? Drink?”

You cup a hand over your mouth, to block your mortified expression. “Yeah, yeah, Neil, I’ll just have a water.”

“Water!” Fak yells back, way too fucking emphatically, “I— I love water, that’s so crazy.”

“Jesus Christ.” Richie holds his face in his hands, elbows on the table. “I’ll get a fuckin’…” He lifts a hand to wave in the air, willy-nilly, still not looking up. “Chippy, name a wine.”

“Red?” Richie usually doesn’t have wine. It’s the rich man’s beer. But when he does, it’s red.

“Mhm.”

He’s probably gonna get steak, just go with a safe bet, “Cab Sav, for the gentleman, please.”

Fak writes it down, but seems bewildered and confused, staring at it. “You want a taxi?”

“Oh my god.” You and Richie are in unison. Two very different tones, though. You sound baffled, he sounds like he’s two seconds from lunging.

Which, isn’t an entirely unfair reaction, Fak has been training for this moment for a month. Rich thought he’d at least be ready to start with you. You’re the least intimidating person he knows, you wouldn’t hurt a fly. Maybe that’s what makes it so difficult? That you’re too nice? Even still, Fak should at least know this, not choke as hard as he is, right now. It’s embarrassing for Richie, when his staff are flailing this bad, especially in front of the people he loves and admires.

Rich wrings his hands together, looking back up to you. “I fucking taught him this, just so y’know.”

You nod, looking to Fak. You’ve just gotta get him out of here, honestly. “Cabernet Sauvignon, baby— Just a glass, not a bottle. We’ll look over our menus, in the meantime, maybe?”

The sleeper agent line has been spoken, and the server autopilot in Fak’s brain finally turns on. “Right. I’ll just give you lovely two a second to look over your menus, alright, haha, be safe— Be back with your drinks, folks.”

The delivery may need a little work. Though you think his edits should probably start with the way he walks backwards, eye-contact unyielding, and almost trips as he pushes backwards into the kitchen door. That might be considered bad, to some.

“Trainwreck.” Richie presses his palms into his eyes. “M’fuckin’ sorry, Chippy, Jesus Christ.”

You shrug, leaning back in your seat. “I don’t see a problem, it’s dinner and a show, baby.”

Richie laughs, at that, after a few seconds of silence, he adds. “He’s not gonna fuckin’ last.”

“Probably not.” You shrug. “But it was worth a shot. N’ he’ll do in a pinch, if you’re ever short-staffed.”

“We are always short-staffed.” Richie grumbles. “Do fuckin’ servers ever actually stage? Need the free labour.”

“What the fuck is stage?”

“I honestly still don’t know.” You both laugh. “I fuckin’ did it and I still don’t know.”

“What have you been up to, besides uh, staging?” You finally open Pandora’s box.

Well, it’ll stay small talk for a little bit, to be fair, gotta warm up to the real stuff—

“Tif’s getting remarried.”

“—Oh, holy shit.”

He nods, looking aimlessly nowhere, certainly not your eyes. “Engaged, at least— Haven’t gotten a fuckin’ invite, or anythin’.”

“You think she’ll invite you?”

“She asked.” He closes his eyes, for a second. This has been hanging over his head, all day. “Called, this uh, this morning, cause of Cousin Vinnie n’ Mira—”

“She comin’ to that?” You’ve never actually met Tif. They were on the rocks when you’d come to The Beef, so it was mostly just waves through car windows, if anything. It might be better if it stays that way, you think.

He shakes his head, “Someone’s gotta take care of Eva, n’ she’s got work. But the invite made her think of my invite, and uh, if I’d want one, come when it may.”

These are the moments you wish you had a glass of water, so you could sip and do something with your mouth and hands, as you think of what to say. He continues, because he knows you’re going to ask, “Said I’d think about it.”

“I think it’s okay, if you don’t want to.” You lean forward, as a show of sympathy. “That’d be a fuckin’ lot, for anyone.”

“Yeah. Yeah, but it’s uh, it’s— I’m good, Chip.” Richie leans back in his seat, swiping at his nose. He’ll talk about it when he’s ready, and you know that. He makes eye-contact, again, finally. “How’ve you been holdin’ up?”

You bite at your lip, alright, its fucking game time, this is what you’ve been prepping for, time to tell him everything you’ve been thinking about, for the past year, time to tell someone other than your former therapist what the fuck is in your head. “I—”

“Drinks! Hyah!” Fak busts through the door, far too boisterous. It scares a few patrons, and honestly you, a little bit. He returns to your table, pitcher and bottle of wine on a tray— Hey, it actually is a Cab Sav, he did it! Gotta celebrate the victories, here.

You can’t help but notice, as Fak pours your glass of water and attempts small talk, that he seems a bit more distressed than he did before he went in the kitchen. You crane your neck to peek through the window. Hm. Syd and Carmy are not where they were before. They’re talking. It doesn’t look like a fight, though. Let it lie. You’ve really got to let it lie, because Fak is in front of you, staring straight forward like he’s in a catatonic liminal state, not acknowledging either you or Richie with his gaze. A touch disconcerting, possibly.

“So, hey, you guys, you guys like food?”

Your lips form a line. “Fak, are you okay?”

“I’m great—” His voice cracks, oh dear. “Am I doing great?”

“You’re certainly trying—” “You’re fucking this up tremendously.” At least Richie is honest, and usually you are too, but, when it comes to a trainwreck, you’ve gotta tell the train they’re doing a great job. You just can’t bear to let it know it’s on fire.

When your glass of water starts to overflow, you take the pitcher from Fak’s hand so he can’t keep overpouring it in his fugue state. Jesus Christ, what happened in the kitchen? Who died? Actually, probably don’t joke about that.

It’s in within this moment that you learn a lot of things very quickly. First thing you learn, Sweeps is a server now, you guess. He’s in the suit, coming out of the kitchen, terrified, serving tray in hand, two champagne flutes wobble upon it. Second thing you learn, Sweeps is not a good server, or at the very least, isn’t right now, he’s too shell-shocked to keep any level of awareness of where he’s going. He bumps into Fak’s back. Third thing you learn, Richie has great reflexes, he catches the wine bottle from Fak’s tray. You have decent reflexes, managing to reach an arm out in time to keep Sweeps from entirely falling over and eating shit.  

You were however, not able to keep the champagne flutes from elegantly flying off of Sweep’s tray, and falling to the ground, shattering. Sonofabitch.

There’s a silence, then an overlapping chorus from the two distressed servers, “I’ve got it, I’ve got it, I’ve got it—” That’s the fourth and last thing you’re able to clock immediately. These two know serving is not for them. They do best sweeping or fixing, not fucking talking to people. Breaking something and needing to clean it up is like a gift from God, to them, they’re genuinely fighting to be the one to clean it up. They end up tag-teaming it, as they feel Richie’s quiet glare burn into them. He’s gotten very good at silently laying down the law. They apologize, scramble to clean, hastily apologize, and rush back into the kitchen as soon as possible.

Fuck. It’s like Richie texted, Fak has shit the bed, and that almost certainly means your dinner is gonna get cut short. You’re not going to get the chance to tell him everything— Let alone anything you wanted to get out. You won’t get to apologize properly, and then he’ll head right back on his shift, and you’ll just be the kitchen’s friend that’s taking up a table. Fuck, you’ve got to try to stumble something of note out.

“I missed you, Rich.”

The man in question turns his head from looking through the kitchen window, back to you, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I was here.” Could’ve visited.

“I know.” No, I couldn’t.

He nods. The unexchanged words are still understood between the both of you, somehow. You fiddle with your fingers, gearing up to just say your big speech, you practiced it in the car ride here, if you just cut it down to the key bullet points, you can probably get it all out.

“Richie, I’m sor—”

Once again, Fak interrupts, door swinging open, he looks extremely panicked this time, tripping over nothing, sweating like it’s a million degrees, looking to both of you, alright the kitchen situation seems to have escalated. It seems like he’s about to scream to you— But then remembers that there are guests other than you and Richie, in the front of house, and so he speed walks to your table.

Richie is the one to ask this time, “Are you fuckin’ good—?”

“Uh-uh.” Fak shakes his head, in repetitive, tight small swivels. His posture militantly straight, taught, eyes darting everywhere, like there’s spies lurking in the booths, watching him. He speaks through tight teeth, to hide his words from onlookers. “Bad. Bad bad.”

“Bad bad?” You repeat after him, waiting for him to lend any explanation to the subject, he doesn’t really.

“Need you.” He nods to Richie. Then nods to you. He looks… Disdainful? Remorseful, maybe. To be doing so. “You too. Bad.”

Richie looks to you, letting you make the call, here. You look at him and sigh, your plan has been utterly ruined, your speech— Dashed. He adds. “Intermission?”

There’s no way this is just going to be an intermission. “Intermission.”

You both stand, he takes his wine glass, then takes the bottle, a bit more realistic. You take your water. Cheers, and into the cesspool you go, abandoning your table, for what Richie hopes is for an interim, for what you both know is for the night.

The first thing you notice, Carmen’s not at expo. No one’s on expo, actually. Which feels like a problem. The second thing you notice is where Carmen actually is— In the walk-in— Not locked in, no, not this time. No, you notice he’s there because he’s yelling, better than zero pulse, but you still wince. All yelling makes you wince.

“Who was on veggie prep today?! What is this dice, Chefs!?” He storms out, large deli container of onions in his hand— He’s bringing it to his station— Which was Syd’s station, but he’s now co-opted it, seemingly, as she’s not there. However, in her stead, are five more containers of pre-diced veggies— You imagine Carmen brought those out, too. “We are not serving fucking sandwiches, anymore, Chefs—”

Carmen stops short of his aggression, when he sees you. You can’t tell if you like that. You’re pretty sure you don’t. What’s that stupid idiom? Mean to the world, good to your girl? Don’t like that. Don’t like two faces. Don’t like the shade on the old sandwiches— Mikey’s sandwiches, either.

Carmen doesn’t move to you, or anything like that though, no, he’s busy— With what exactly, you’re not sure. No fucking way he’s redoing all the prep right now, right? That would be insane. The dices are fine, and they can’t just waste food right now with their budget nor their time— Fucking Christ, he is actually redoing the prep and making Tina use the old for broth— Oh dear God.

The third thing you notice is where Syd really is, in lieu of her station. She’s having what looks like a panic attack with Sweeps by the ovens. Your legs move to her before your brain really registers anything else, and you can hear behind you that Richie has gone to Carmen and is handling expo. Fak did not need to tell either of you what your jobs needed to be back here, you just know.

“This is, this is just fucking great—” Syd heaves, holding onto the handle of the oven. Next to her, Sweeps is still in his hosting attire, but he’s mopping up water by Syd’s feet. There’s a tipped over mop bucket on the ground. He looks significantly more comfortable now, but still equally as distressed as the rest of the kitchen seems to be.

You put a hand on Syd’s shoulder, leaning down to her level. “Bubs, what’s going on? M’here.”

“Fucking everything is going on.” She starts to catch her breath; she brushes your hand away. You know it’s because she has sensory overload, it still kind of hurts, though. “Carmen’s fucking freaking…”

“No shit.” You step aside and lift your left foot, when Sweeps needs to mop by your feet. “Why, though?”

“On our opening night, he had a fuckin’— Episode, I dunno.” She’s still keeled over, hands on her knees, but she’s breathing. “N’ he had this like— Like saw this guy, who wasn’t actually there. Out—” She nods her head to the window to the front of house. She stands up, again. “Out there.”

“His, his old Executive— Chef.”

“Oh.”

The night terrors. The oven. The fire. The wanting it to happen, even just a little bit. The man who’s in his head, talking to Carmen, every night. The man he saw on his opening night, apparently. Your poor Carmen.

“Yeah, yeah he was like— Apparently kind of a dick—” Understatement of the century. “But like, so is he.” Syd nods to Carmen. You can’t completely deny that. You wish you could. “Anyways, he called.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I fucking know.” She nods, emphatic. She then realizes that this story is going to take a second, and gestures to the oven behind her. “This won’t turn on, spilt water on it.”

“Oh.” You take a beat, then remember this is what your job is, “Oh!” You feel around the pockets of your pants. Should’ve expected to bring a screwdriver, at the very least, it’s The Bear. Get with the program. The tools are in your car, to be fair, but for a quick simple check-up—

You call out, “Yo, Fak—” “Yes?”

You jump, he’s standing a mere inch behind and adjacent from you. You hold your heart, stepping back from him, just a touch. “…Do you… Have a screwdriver?”

Neil leans back, like he’s tough, like he’s sizing you up. “Something broken?”

“Tryin’ to figure that out.”

“Cause you’re a repairman.”

“Cause I’m a repairman, yeah.”

“You got a degree?”

“Just give her the fucking screwdriver!” Syd yells before you can answer. Fak begrudgingly and with a lethargic show, hands you the screwdriver from his chest pocket.

Jealous, is he? Oh, that’s cute. That’s very cute. He’s the one that said he wanted to host— Whatever, no time to tease or bicker, you’re pulling the oven out, trying to lift as much as possible with Syd’s help, to keep from scrapping tile, but it’s inevitable.

You kneel down, taking the screws out the back, “So Exec dude, he called?”

“Uh-huh.” Syd focuses on her pan on the oven next to you— Thankfully that one did not get fucked in the crossfire— so they’re short but not fucked, just yet, at least. “Called Carmen, said he’d heard about the opening— That he wants to come try the place.”

“Right, but he’s from New York, isn’t he, you’ve got time—”

“He already took a flight here; he’ll be here in thirty.”

“Oh, my fucking God.”

“I fucking know.” Everything is going on. It’s all starting to make a lot more sense now. The kitchen’s general distress, Fak and Sweeps dropping shit from anxiety but also an inadvertent way to guarantee Richie does not table them with the fucking guy, Carmen’s sudden paranoia over someone noticing a decimal less than perfect dice— Because he would, he will.

The man in Carmen’s head that’s been torturing him has at the very least been confined to his head. And now he will be materializing, before his family, to dress him down at any opportunity, in thirty fucking minutes. Oh, your poor Carmen…

“And this guy—He’s like, like fucking big, if he likes the food— Likes The Bear— We might end up getting an inspector, in here.”

You lean out from the back of the oven, practically being swallowed by it. Confused. “Getting an inspector is a good thing?” To your knowledge, inspectors are what shuts down restaurants.

“A Michelin Guide Inspector.” Oh, fuck.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, I fucking know!” Syd replies, emphatic, Richie calls out an order to her, from expo. She clears her throat. “Heard, Chef.”

A Michelin Guide Inspector. What’s that mean? Well, if you’re thinking correctly, it means a star. It means accolades. It means recognition. It means money. It means 800k. It means not going under. It means clawing their way back out of the woods. It means everything. Oh, fuck.

“So, anyways—” Syd sautés, violently. “Carmen fuckin’ finishes that call, storms out the office, and like demands shit to be perfect— Which like— Like it should be, I know, but like— Tellin’ me to fuckin’ mop already perfectly clean floors, is like, like fucking stupid— Especially when I’m fucking cooking here, like what?”

It’s amid this retelling, as you stand, that you notice Syd’s hand— The left one, the one on the pan’s handle, is bleeding, two of her fingers, cut. “And I— I fucked up, like, like I know I did. I dropped the mop bucket, n’— n’ now my fucking oven won’t turn on.”

You take her hand, she tries to rip it away, you don’t let her. “I cut it on the edge of the bucket, stupid sharp plastic, I’m good—”

“Lemme just bandage it.” You’re already fishing through your pocket, with your free hand.

She’s quick to shake her head. “You need to figure out how I fucked up the oven.”

“I already know what’s wrong with the oven.” You pull out your wallet, flitting through the bill fold with your fingers— You keep band-aids there, in case of emergency, because of course you do. Syd tries to tug her hand away, again. Her blood is rubbing onto your fingers. It’s not a big cut, but it’s enough. You can’t help remember the ye old days of you as teens, hearing about the concept of blood brothers for the first time, and genuinely considering going through with it. Funny what time does. Funny who it brings back.

“Then fix the oven.”

You mumble, tearing the paper open with your teeth. “This first.”

“I’m fucking good, Tony.”

“Don’t bark at me.”

She grimaces when she notices they’re children’s band-aids, with goofy little cartoon heroes on them. “I don’t fucking need—”

“Sydney, I love you.” There is no subtext, behind it. You look her in the eyes, stern. Tone inarguable. It catches the words in her throat, and keeps them there.

“Will you let me?”

She shuts her eyes, tight, for a second, and just looks away, hand going limp in your grip. Which means okay, I love you, too. She does not need to say it. You wrap two band-aids, one around each finger that got cut, and let her go.

Syd takes a second, to look at it. She looks at you.

“The Miles Morales feels racially targeted.”

“I fuckin’ hate you.” You point at her, you both break into laughter. Richie barks out another slew of numbers and orders, and it’s like getting caught talking in class. She goes back to her cast-iron, you start walking off to Rich. From behind you she mumbles.

“Love you, Inky.” Oh my God. Chippy’s a flashback, Inky is like a history textbook.

“Love ya, Squid.”

At expo, Richie’s sweating, he turns to you, and you speak at once.

“Carmy give you the run down?” — “Syd tell you the bullshit?”

You both nod. You’re first to ask, “Fuck dinner?”

“Raincheck. Let’s say.” He shrugs. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t need to be.” You nod to the oven. “Thermocouple in your oven’s broke. I have backups in my car.”

“You have backups in your fucking car?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Of the one hyper-specific part we need?”

“Yeah, the timing is crazy—” “Ey, when’d you get a fucking car, Cousin?” Richie realizes a discrepancy he simply always forgot to ask about for the past few weeks.

“Early this year. It’s a piece of shit. It works.”

He nods. “Hands!” Fak, swings by you, grabbing the plate from Richie, “Got this!”

Richie nods, smiling, very clearly fake, turning his head to watch Fak walk all the way out and have the door swing shut behind him. When he’s sure Fak can’t hear him, his head snaps right back to you. “We cannot let any of my fuckin’ staff near the fuckin’ big shot.”

It’s honestly nice that dinner is over, despite how bad you wanted to talk because now it’s this. Now it’s nostalgic. Now it’s comfortable— Distressing— But it’s you two, again. You nod. “So you’re gonna run expo and serve him at the same time?”

“What, you think I can’t?”

No, you don’t. “Of course you can, you’re Richie Jero—Uh, whatever the fuck.” You’re already walking to the back door to grab your tools.

“Jerimovich, Chippy! Not that fuckin’ hard!”

You should put oven expert on your business cards, when you eventually get to making new business cards. This is like, the third oven fix you’ve done in two weeks? And you just changed a thermocouple a few days ago! It takes you maybe five minutes tops, to switch the old wire for the good one.

When you push the stove back against the wall and test the burners— It works, thank God. You might’ve hyped yourself up a little too much before even checking that. Once you do, though, before even saying it’s fixed, Syd violently shakes your left shoulder, as a point of approval. Tina, on your right, slaps you on the back several times as her vow of praise, too. This is like riding a roller-coaster, and not in a good way.  

But it ends soon, as they’ve got to get right back to work, since Richie calls out—

“Guys fuckin’ here!” That’s like, ten minutes early, bullshit— “He brought a party of five—” Are you fucking kidding— “Booth Twelve— When I say booth twelve, don’t fuck up booth twelve, a’right, Chefs?”

“Heard!”

Where’s Carmen, right now? You look around— He’s at his station, on the final part of the line. He’s simultaneously making a dish completely on his own and doing the final touches on plates before they get sent out. Alright, okay, so maybe it’s best expo doesn’t get foisted on him, right now. But fuck, how is Richie gonna serve five and run this fucking kitchen?

Tina claps your back again, bringing you out of your state of worry. “Baby.”

“Yeah, T?” She turns your attention to a big pot of stock, on the burners that now work, thanks to you.

“Can you just stir this, f’me, for just a minute? Make sure the—”

“I’ll get the brown off the bottom yeah.”

She slaps your cheek, approving, “That’s my baby.”

And so, you stir. It’s an easy job, it just takes time— Time this kitchen doesn’t have, time you’re happy to give. Tina rushes over and takes over expo, while Richie moves out to take in stupid fucking booth twelve.

This kitchen is dysfunctional, the constant switches of expo require everyone to find a new rhythm, every time, and T needs to play catch up. Tina, Carmen, and Richie run expo just a touch differently from each other, since it’s a pretty cookie cutter job— But those minute differences change a lot. The tempo and tonal switches throw everyone off just slightly. They’re small mistakes, like a poor aesthetic sauce splatter, like Syd cutting her hand, like Marcus fucking up his saffron placement like five times in a row— It takes seconds off, it takes time. Time you do not have.

But what can you do? It’s all hands-on deck. Except for Fak’s hands. Get that man a water and a corner to sit in. He needs a second. So does the rest of this kitchen.

When Richie comes back in, it’s with a whine, he’s already so tired of this stupid fucking Michelin Exec. “—Wants to see a fuckin’ wine menu, do we have a fuckin’ wine menu?”

“No, Chef!” Syd and Carmen both chant out from other sides of the kitchen. Your ears perk up. They could’ve just asked you to make one, you would’ve. But, guess you don’t work here, technically.

Richie grimaces, “I know fuck all, bout wine.” He takes a swig of the red wine he left sitting on the expo podium. “Tastes fuckin’— Red, I dunno.”

Finally, something you can actually help with, in a critical way— Well, you just fixed an oven, but that doesn’t count, in your head. Most things you do don’t count, in your head. “T! Switch!” You whistle to her, and though she doesn’t love being ordered around, you’re already walking away from the pot, so you don’t really give her a choice.

“Rich, let me take it.”

Richie looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, but also, he finds those two heads very amusing. “Chippy...”

“I fucking know wine. I tend. I’m personable, I—”

“You don’t know how to kiss ass.”

“But I could.” You’re already peeling off Carmen’s jacket— Hey, thank God you dressed on theme, right? This could absolutely be a server’s fit. “Under duress.”

If it were up to Richie, you would already be out there. But his name is not on The Bear, as much as he’d like it to be. He looks to Carmen, who’s been staring at the both of you this entire interaction. Which is kind of concerning, he should probably be focusing on his three-quarter dice or he might to chop his fucking fingers off. No, he’s wouldn’t. He could probably do it with his eyes closed.

Carmen looks from Richie, who’s silently asking him for permission, to you. “Y’sure?”

“Yeah.” You nod, tucking his jacket under the expo podium. You don’t catch the way his face hardens, just a bit— Because you turn your gaze to Richie. “I’ll just do the drinks part, like an actual somme— Warm him up, f’you, when he’s ready to order. Let you stay on expo, longer.”

Richie rocks his head back and forth, considering it. You tack on, “I’m stage— What the fuck did you call it?”

“Staging.” Carmen answers.

“That one.”

Carmen stares at his cutting board, thinking and working, working and thinking. He does not look up at you, when he makes his decision. He just nods, “Okay.”

You nod back, happy. You don’t wait for him to change his mind. You take one quick overview of their wine rack, noting what they do and don’t have, and then you’re off, out the door, to the front of house, to a warzone.

The motherfucker at Booth Twelve sticks out like a sore thumb. There’s something about the aura he radiates, that tells you immediately that it’s him, despite not knowing his face or name. Bet it’s fucking Tony, somehow.

He’s doing his best to peer into the kitchen window without being obvious about it, which, he’s currently failing at that. Richie sat his party in a good booth, it’s just the worst booth for a good view of the kitchen. Smart. This guy is an asshole, and it’s clear from his stupid equally punchable looking friends, that he’s doing all of this on purpose.

The big party, unexpected. The him, unexpected. The asking for a wine menu. He wants you all off guard, he wants Carmen off-guard, he wants Carmen’s breath to hitch, he wants Carmen to sweat, and most importantly, he wants to watch.

You stand in front of his view, on purpose. “Hi, pleasure to serve you lovely people tonight, I’m—” No shot you’re giving this guy your real name. “—Jack, I’m your sommelier. I heard you wanted to look over a wine menu?”

“Yes,” His voice is just as stupid as you expected it to be. This is the fucking voice Carmen hears? God, lock it in, bite your tongue. “And I see you are not holding one.”

“Well, actually, we don’t carry a wine menu because we at The Bear believe in a personally curated dining experience.” You don’t miss a beat, you don’t hitch, he hates this and you can tell. “I like to think that I’m your wine menu, flip through me at your leisure.”

Your eyes crinkle, as you do an expert customer service smile. This stupid fucking table laughs at the lukewarm joke, he just smirks, because rich men don’t have time for laughter. So, their cronies do it for them.

“Well then,” He gestures his hand, giving you the floor. “What’s the menu?”

“Ah, well, was there anything on the main menu that caught your eye, so I can best pair you?”

“Hmm…” There’s a glint in his eye, and you know you’ve just expertly set him up to say ‘No.’ And then you’ll have no fucking comeback. You’ll probably throw up on the table, fuck fuck fuck— “Yes, actually.”

Oh, thank God. “The Wagyu steak with wild mushrooms and hazelnut-gruyere croquettes?”

Oh, that’s the one Carmen made for you, weeks back, you know that one. “Ah, one of my personal favourites. I’d recommend a young Pinot Grigio, maybe a 2006 Gravner?” How the fuck did you remember that? Doesn’t matter. What matters is this motherfucker is not getting under your skin.

“And what about the braised oxtail wellington?” The hot pocket, he means. You’ve had that, too.

“We have a fantastic Barolo Brunate to pair with that, Giuseppe Rinaldi 2019.” You have no idea if it’s fantastic. Who fucking cares. It’s expensive, you know that much. You only bothered to review the top rack.

“Lot of Italian vineyards.” A woman next to him comments.

“Well, we are Italian owned, so.”

It does not end there. No, why would it? No, he and his compatriots go about naming every single fucking thing on the menu, asking you to pair it. And not to toot your own horn too much, but this is, really, the one job you feel the most trained to do. All those games with Syd, all those men at Eden’s, all the parts and tools and forty different types of wrenches you have to keep track of and memorized as a repairman— Your brain is trained for this. This isn’t easy for you, sure— But you are maybe more equipped for this than any other person you could possibly think of. Good think you don’t have to think of people, you have to think of wines.

Once you survive the gauntlet, his ‘friends’ order their actual wines— Each by the bottle. Alcoholism in the food world is crazy. Also, how are you going to carry four to five full bottles here? Dear God. Whatever, you’ll live, and make insane bank— Or, The Bear, will, rather. That’s like a thousand on wine alone. When you get to Him, he puts his menu down and sighs, it’s very clearly fake.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“I’d want for nothing more.” You’d want for a lot more; actually, you’d want for him to shut the fuck up. But this is kind of a good thing. They’ve wasted a solid ten minutes just talking wine— Giving the kitchen ample time to catch up. This guy just shot himself in the foot with the sweat plan.

“This is a fine menu, but as you said, The Bear believes in a personally curated experience.” Fuck. “I don’t know if you know this, but I have a very personal relationship with the owner.” Fuck. “Would you hate me, if I asked for you to… Surprise me?”

He doesn’t need to ask for a surprise for you to hate him, is what you want to say, but instead you just smile, appeasing, kissing ass. You hate yourself just a bit for it. “I’ll see what we can do, sir. And so, you’d like a surprise wine, as well then?”

He does a customer service smile right back. You’re both passively cursing the other. “If that’s no trouble. Oh—” He tilts his head, cocky attitude really coming to a head now, “And budget isn’t a problem. Just the best.”

“I couldn’t imagine giving anything less, sir.” Another coy smile from you, before bowing and leaving their table. Your tight shoulders fall as soon as you walk back into the kitchen.

“I want him dead.”

“Agreed. Temp check?” Richie hums flitting through his notes, “We’ve got five steaks all day, Chefs, kill two. Fire now, Chefs.”

“Yes, Chef!”

You sidle up next to Rich, “They’re trying to make us sweat with quizzes. Just know your shit and they won’t be able to touch you.”

“Heard.”

“They ordered like five fucking bottles of wine.”

“Christ.” He turns to you, at that. “You upsell?”

“Didn’t have to. Named the most expensive bottles and they didn’t give it a second thought.”

He daps you up, it is difficult to hide your pride. “That’s my fuckin’ Chippy!”

You quell your smirk to the best of your abilities, especially since it isn’t all good news, “I think they’re ready to order, one problem, though.”

“Problem?” That’s when Carmen tunes in. He hands a finished plate to Richie, who hands it off to Sweeps, who begrudgingly heads out to deliver. “What’s the problem?”

“He says he wants to be surprised.”

“Like fucking Ratatouille?”

Carmen squints at Richie, for this, incredulous. You cannot back up your man, in this case, fully on Richie’s side. “Don’t act like you didn’t fuck with Ratatouille.”

“I didn’t see it.”

“You didn’t see it?!” Carmen’s always liked it, when the two of you speak in unison. Carmen hates it, when you and Richie speak in unison. “You’d love it, Carm.”

Any other time, he’d love to entertain you, on this, but he can’t. It makes you both feel very cold, when he brushes past the idea. “I’ll think’ve something.”

You nod, already moving to the wine cooler, sorting out bottles. “You have time, I’ll stretch out serving them—Richie, help me bring out bottles? Take their orders? Two birds, one stone?”

“It’s bullet.” “It’s not.”

The wine pouring is nothing to write home about.

“Don’t mind us tag-teaming, didn’t want anyone to feel left out for a minute!”

But is definitely a weird vibe, when you and Richie serve this table. You’re both equally personable— Though, going as fast as you can without making them feel rushed. Richie needs to get back on expo A-S-A-P.

Despite the fact that both of you are just as nice as the other… This fucking guy is absolutely giving Richie more attitude, in comparison to you. You have a feeling the only reason he didn’t shut you down earlier with the menu is because you’re a hostess. Yeuch. Gross man senses are tingling, but maybe it’s just you.

Richie whispers to you, when you’re walking back to the kitchen, “He’s a fuckin’ creep, eh?”

Okay, not just you. You know it’s bad when another man notices it. “Yep.”

Whatever. Use it to your advantage, in this case, if possible. Not like you have anything to worry about, just about everyone in the kitchen would jump him for you, upon request.

Would Carmen?

It’s a weird thought to have, but it’s a thought you can’t seem to stop yourself from having. Would Carmen choose your safety and comfort, over the chance to get a chance to get a star? …He would, right? He’d choose you, right?

“M’sorry for derailin’ dinner with our bullshit, Chip.”

The door swings open, Richie lets you in first. “You kidding? No where I’d rather be, than in your bullshit.”

Maybe this is better, than any apology you were planning to give. Better that you show with your actions, that you’re both actually back. That it’s you two, again. That you’re not going anywhere, this time. That even if you did leave, Richie’s gotta know, with a certainty, you’d rather be here.

Richie smiles, and you think you’re right. While he’s shouting out Booth Twelve’s orders, Carmen hands a plate to expo. You tilt your head, curious. He slides a folded-up card, with it. You don’t recognize the plate at all from the menu.

“S’yours.” Is his simple answer, already getting to work on Booth Twelve. He’s scribbling down notes and quick sketches of what surprise dish to make for the Exec. On the front of the card, it says ‘won’t have time to do it myself’, alongside a smiley face, for levity.

You open the card, flitting vision between the dish, the note, and Carmen. Digesting the recipe he’s written for you and your eyes, only. He knew he wouldn’t have time to explain it verbally, so he wrote it down for you. You could throw up, honestly.

This is, the sweetest, most thoughtful, most complex thing, anyone has ever made for you.

You have done your damndest, to almost never be the one to instigate a kiss, not a real one, with Carmen, because he asked for distance, so you try to give it. But right now, more than anything, you’d like to assail this man to the floor right now with your affections.

But you can’t. Because he’s busy, and he needs this, not you. Carmen needs this to go well. He needs this guy to like the food, he needs the inspector to like the food, he needs a star. Fuck, even without the prospect of an inspector looming over him— He needs to prove the man in his head wrong. There is no time for any of the love you have to give.

…Did you just think love?

Gotta table this, for now…

“Thank you, Carmy.” His movements relax, when you say it. He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t slow down, he doesn’t pivot to you and confess some long-standing prose of love, but he nods, and his shoulders untense. That’s practically the same thing.

His phone, laying on the expo podium, rings. Sug. You furrow your brows. “Carmen.”

“Hm?” He’s tense, and still not himself, but he sounds so sweet, when he hums.

“Nat’s calling.”

“Let it go to voicemail.”

“She’d know you’re working, right now.”

“She’s got mom brain.”

“Mom brains’ aren’t dumb.” You frown, a touch worried. Always doting, aren’t you. “Could be an emergency.”

Carmen wants to say it’s not a big deal. That there’s bigger fish to fry. That if he fucks this dinner up, it could mean Nat won’t have a job to come back to. That with all the love in the world, he does not have time for this, right now. And then he thinks of his brother, and suddenly he has time for this, right now. He picks up his notepad and pen, he can work anywhere, it doesn’t need to be at his station. “Give me.”

He takes the phone, shouting to his crew, “Taking two minutes, Chefs!”

There’s a half-second of complaints before a resounding, “Heard!”

Carmy points to you, as he walks to his office, “Eat.”

“I will.” You nod, and lie.

You won’t be eating the most perfect, most complex, most personal, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever made for you.

You already made your decision, when you saw the plate. When you read the note. When you saw the frantic scribbles at Carmen’s station, loose pieces of paper everywhere, all crumpled. He can’t come up with shit for the man in his head. You already made your decision, when the four other plates showed up on expo for his table, and all that’s left is the surprise dish, for The Man.

You will not be eating the most perfect, most complex, most personal, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever made for you. The man out front, the man in Carmen’s head, will.

Carmen needs this.

Your heart just short of breaks, when you put it on the serving tray, handing it off to Richie. “What’s this one?” He asks, not knowing, not having paid attention. He would’ve refused, if he did.

Syd was, though. She looks like a puppy watching another puppy get kicked. You swallow the feeling down, ignoring her stare. You don’t need to reread the card, it’ll stick in your head, for the rest of your life.

“Lamb saddle, roasted, pink. Aigre-doux eggplant, means sour sweet sauce, with lamb confit, fresh spring garlic, Montmorency sauce— It’s a dark red cherry sauce, topped with cherries and baby basil.”

You wouldn’t know any of the French terms, if they weren’t defined for you in the margins. There’s a parenthetical, next to the lamb— Mentioning that it’s roasted, explaining why saddle is a superior cut of lamb, noting why it’s best served pink— Mentioning that it’s similar to pork. Your favourite. There’re exclamation points next to the cherry additions, because it’s your favourite Italian ice flavour. They need to be emphasized, in the recipe. There’s another parenthetical, next to baby basil, ‘(yours)’. It’s your basil, from your balcony to his, now to his kitchen, now to your plate.

In spades, this is the best gift anyone has ever made you, and you watch it leave, through the swinging door. You can’t stop your expression from twitching, falling into a frown. Your heart sits heavy in your throat. When Syd silently stands next to you, taking over for Richie on expo, she returns your tiny container of Tums. You take one, eyes distant, looking at the kitchen, Carmen’s kitchen, biting down on the antacid.

Cherry.

This isn’t sad. It’s just a plate. It’s literally just a plate. Carmen can make it again. Carmen can make it a million times over again. So why does it sting like this? Why does it carve its way into the pit of your stomach? That was yours. Carmen— Carmen’s plate was yours, and you had to give it up. You want nothing more than to rip the dish from the stupid fucking Exec’s greedy fucking hands, take it for yourself, eat it whole, in one bite— Decree that he can’t fuck with Carmen anymore, that he holds no ownership anymore, that he is not the be all end all, that he is not the gavel and the sound block.

But he is. It hurts, because he is. Carmen is still under him, and so, you, being by his side, are under him too. You know you made the right call, giving the plate up, but the meaning behind it all hurts insurmountably.

Syd takes your hand; the wrinkles of her band-aids are a nice texture to return to. You appreciate that she’s comforting you, but you can’t help but notice, “Uh, uhm, let’s fire table twenty-five, twenty-eight, and— And fuck, twelve, Chefs.” She’s not great at the whole expo thing. She’s fast as a cook, she’s slow as a speaker.

You take a look over the book on the table, and bump her aside with your hip.

“Chefs, I’m gonna need ‘ya to fire six fish all day— ‘kay?”

“Heard, Chef?” The crowd is confused but they’re not gonna stop you.

“Good, good.” You note the dead plate by you, “This asparagus is fuckin’ dead can I get hands on flashing it, please, Chefs?”

“Yes, Chef!”

Syd eyes you, on the sidelines, perplexed. You shrug, “You and Carmen are not the first people that tried to get this fuckin’ kitchen in order, check yourself.”

You didn’t do all the French bullshit, but some days at The Beef definitely ran better when they had a former Lead EMT barking at them— With love, though. Always with love. Syd just laughs, shaking her head. It’s a delight, to always be learning new things about you. How overarching your handful of talents are. You really are a Jack of All Trades.

You run things a little differently than a typical actual expo would. But sometimes, that’s kind of a good thing.

“Baby, where are we at with table twenty?!”

“T,” You say names, instead of Chef, more often than not, “If you yell at me like that, I will, what—?” Your call and responses, are a bit different. “Start crying, yes, thank you, Chef. Table twenty’s plated, we’re just waiting on placement from Syd, take your time but not too much, babe.”

“Heard!”

Levity, temperature, ease. It’s what you bring to the table, in everything you do. And sometimes, yeah, that’s not what you need. But right now, that’s everything this kitchen needs.

When Richie eventually comes back, handling front of house almost entirely by himself, he’s relieved to see you on expo, and the kitchen functioning, but he seems a little thrown. Off his rhythm.

You put a hand on his shoulder, as he stands next to you. “You good, Cousin?”

He sighs, he’s not good. “M’good, Chip.”

“Can I get an all-day on pasta, Chef?” Marcus’ voice doesn’t really occur to you, in the background, right now. You’re all about Richie.

“What happened?”

“It’s nothin…” He kisses his teeth, “S’just, man’s a real piece of work— N’ I can’t— Can’t give it back to him.”

“What’d he say?”

“Just, just kinda… Made fun ‘a—” Richie pauses, clearing his throat. “He made fun of my voice. To his fuckin’ friends. Called me unprofessional, said the suit’s prol— Probably a knock-off— Which, it is, but—”

“Chef, pasta?”

“One second, Marcus!” You call out, quick, not taking your eyes off Richie. You hate to hear him attempting to switch, all the syllables fit uncomfortably in his mouth. You frown. “He’s an asshole. Don’t listen to ‘em. You should bite back a little, I think.”

Richie hums, arms crossing, guarding himself. He sighs, finally voicing the worry. Son of a bitch, this guy’s in Richie’s head now, too. “…D’you take me serious, Cousin?”

You soften, while simultaneously growing so angry, at how quickly Richie’s become demoralized, “Richie— Cousin, of course I take you seriously.”

The moment is cut short, however, by a reasonably frustrated Marcus, at his limit. “Tony, all-day pasta, shit, c’mon!”

About a minute or two earlier, Carmen went into his office to take a call. He’s still jotting down notes, trying to come up with a recipe, not knowing the effort is meaningless now.

“Everything alright, Sug?”

“Hm? Yeah, everything’s good, I just wanted to call ‘stead of text ‘cause my hands are full of baby.” He told you so, not an emergency. “You guys busy?”

“Yeah, actually, s’maybe I’ll call you back, after?”

“Sure, sure, yeah, I just wanted to let you know I didn’t get Tony’s invoice.”

He pauses, no longer writing. “What’d’you mean you didn’t get her invoice?”

“She said you took care of it.”

“She told me you took care of it.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause, as Natalie thinks, trying to recount. “Well, maybe I’ve just got mom brain, but I swear she told me you covered it, thought I wrote it down…”

“Yeah, you did.” Carmen flits through the folder he was looking at yesterday, finding her sticky note. “You wrote down to ask me for her invoice.”

“Yeah, so I could get a copy for our records. Maybe I just got mixed up and left it somewhere— Just double check before you ask her for it again, I like her, Carmy, I don’t want her to think we’re unprofessional.”

“We are unprofessional.” And you like them anyways. He pops open the desk drawer, flitting through folders, most of them labeled ‘stuff’ ‘shit’ ‘bullshit’ ‘bullshit stuff’. Carmen loves his brother but sometimes he curses the fucking sky. There’s every chance Sug slipped your invoice into one of these by mistake.

“Yeah, but I don’t want her to know that.” Carmen can hear little baby Michaela murmuring on the other end of the phone. “Tell her to come see the baby, by the way.”

“I will. I’m plannin’ on it.” After dinner. Maybe when he opens up your painting and he forces you to tell him ad nauseum what you thought of the cherry and lamb dish. Your dish. That shit is never getting put on the menu, no. It’s a lot easier to think of plates when they’re for you, it’s fucking impossible to come up with a dish for his old Head Chef— He really needs to get back out there, actually, he’s out of thinking time, he just has to throw shit at the wall.

But then he sees a folder he’d never paid attention to, before. ‘ICE Chip’s’. Another one of Mikey’s extremely confusingly titles. Carmen always figured it’d been a weird way of naming a folder meant for bulk orders of ice for drinks or for the walk in— But now, Carmen knows better, Carmen knows you. No harm in looking, right? He’ll take a quick peak, see it’s actually for ice, and then he’ll go back out there, rip his hair out, and put it on a plate for the fucking man out front that talked to him during his entire morning routine, today.

Except there’s not invoices for ice, in this folder.

“I’ve been reading her Frog and Toad, almost every night, by the way, Mickey loves it.”

No, it’s you, in this folder. Carmen wants to throw up. He’s being dramatic, he needs to relax, the blood in his veins is freezing and boiling at the same time.

And maybe if Carmen's day had started off a bit better, if he was acting like himself today, and not the man in his head, in his restaurant— Maybe he'd be a little more reasonable, right now. Maybe if he ate family earlier, instead of skipping it to re-tape all the containers in the walk-in, he'd feel a little more forgiving. If he wasn't so tired, if he wasn't so hungry, if he wasn't shaking off a minute cold he got from walking to your house past midnight, a few days ago, he'd be a bit less inclined to spiral.

But there’s a handful of film photos with the two of you— Just the two of you— Richie’s in one or two, but it’s mostly just you and Michael. His arm, over your shoulder, in again, most of them. Mikey looks non-plussed in half of them. You’re always holding some sort of cupcake or cake, in all of them, and there’s always a numbered candle, being blown out. There’re a couple different times there’s a One candle, a few Twos, only one Three.

You knew Mikey for two to three years, didn’t you? Anniversary photos?

Carmen is going to fucking throw up. Why are there multiple ones? One week-iversary? One month-iversary? He has never imagined his brother to be some fucking sap sentimentalist, and it’s making his skin crawl. You dated his fucking brother? He is just a fucking gap filler, he is.

There has got to be another reasonable explanation, for this. You wouldn’t do this to him— Someone would’ve said something to him— Richie would’ve at the very least made some sort of stupid fucking derogatory comment about him getting sloppy seconds— There is no fucking way you dated his fucking brother—

‘I’m with you Bear!!’

‘Just one more, Mikey’

‘love you’

Sticky notes. Your handwriting. There are sticky notes with your handwriting in this forsaken fucking folder. Telling Mikey you love him, and to keep going— You called him Bear. That makes sense, everyone calls all three of the kids Bear— But that was— You— He needs to throw up. It cannot stay in his throat; he cannot let this stay in his throat— ‘We go under together’ — And yet he cannot stop reading them. ‘Same team.’

Same team. You’re on the same team. With his brother. Isn’t that fucking sweet. Isn’t that just adorable. Isn’t the fucking photo booth strip of you two, clearly taken after seeing a movie, fucking precious?

The last thing in this folder is the nail in the coffin, the knife in the hand. Paperwork. Not an invoice, no. Not the fucking thing he was looking for. No. An old agreement form.

A joint bank account. Wells Fargo. Signed by both of you. Photo IDs photocopied, side by side on a black and white piece of paper, stapled onto the end. This feels more intimate than any piece of paperwork that has ever existed. Even a fucking marriage certificate can’t hold a candle to this. You had a joint bank account with a fucking two-bit junkie—

You fucking trusted him with your credit score— You loved Mikey enough to ruin your life— You wanted to go under together. That’s what you fucking wrote, isn’t it?

Every fear Carmen ever had is more than affirmed. He is here to fill a void, he’s here because his brother isn’t. He is nothing but a series of stories his brother has told you, to you. Nothing but another Berzatto man that you desperately try to rehabilitate and fix and inevitably fail with, because they’re all fucking hopeless, before moving onto the next.

He doesn’t even need to kill himself, this time, no— You’ll realize he’s a lost fucking cause when you realize he’s nothing like his brother, when you find out he’s sharp and rendered, that even if he was a good person, he’s still him, and that’s a rot that not even you can fix— You’ll leave him unfinished like all the projects in the corners of your apartment. Because that’s what he is, to you, a project, something to fix. He’s like all your other jobs. He’s a job. Just another distressed restauranteur. Nothing but a fucking replaceable part, that you’ve got ten more spares for in your car.

Carmen doesn’t need to be fixed— He’s perfectly fine the way he is— He was fucking great before you showed up, actually— No, he wasn’t happy, but he was talented, and he wasn’t so brain-dead that he’d fuck up a basic meal thinking of you, he wasn’t so stupid that he’d speak out of turn and call you pretty, he wouldn’t have gotten a cold walking to your house in the winter, he would’ve just taken a hot shower until it hurt, without you— Carmen was— is— A Two Michelin Star chef, he’s fucking great without his brother— He runs The Bear without him just fine, he did everything without his fucking brother just fine, it didn’t hurt when Mikey stopped picking up the phone, Carmen doesn’t need his fucking brother, so he certainly doesn’t need you.

“Carmen?” His sister is still on the phone. Waiting for him to respond. Waiting for him to entertain the idea of being a good uncle. He doesn’t need his sister, either. He hangs up without as much as a simple ‘bye’.

He hears Marcus, yelling for an all-day, yelling Tony. Even still Carmen’s expecting Richie’s voice to reply, but instead, it’s yours that reverberates in past the office door.

“Aye, Marcus! We’ve got three alfredo, two cannoli, one gnocchi, okay, sweets? Same team, right?”

“Same team, Chef.”

Oh, so it’s a fucking Beef thing, too? That’s so fucking cute. It’s so cute, how you’re everywhere, in everything. It’s so goddamn tender how he finds you carved into tables, finds you in filing cabinets, finds you under his booths, finds you in his walk-in, finds you in his shower caddy each morning, finds you on his balcony in a plant pot, finds you in his fridge in a spray bottle, finds you with Syd, finds you with Richie, finds you with Tina, Marcus, Jimmy, Mikey.

So cute. So fucking cute, that he’s gonna see you out there, running his kitchen, fixing everything you deem wrong with him.

Carmen Berzatto doesn't need anyone to ruin his own life except for him. He'll prove it.

i know i know i know i know--

I said it wouldn't be that much of a cliffhanger but when i got through writing the last fourth of this chapter i was having a lot of trouble because pace wise it just really really needed to be a separate part-- and this way, i get to do a fun format style change that i planned but thought i wouldn't get to do TURNS OUT I DO GET TO!! yeehaw

so much happened this chapter, like while writing it, when i'd go back to edit, i was like oh my god that was this chapter?? jesus christ. I was really waiting for y'alls reaction to this one, so please do harang me wherever you feel comfortable ranting to, i love to see it.

But yeah, really fuckin brutal, eh? And a lot of half lore dumps! You think they dated? You think it's something else? The RichiexTony and SydxTony crowds are eating fucking good tonight, also. Love those cuties and their friendships.

We've got a taglist now, I'm bad at keeping track of it, but remember if u wanna be added to this silly little thing you need to hand in an essay (more like a cute lil paragraph) tellin' me what you thought! And also ask. Duh. BUT YA GOTTA DO BOTH!~

@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin

Next Part

[slutforsilverfoxes]

ok i dont know if you do requests or not but this is just something thats been ricocheting around in my head for days and i need to get it out before my brain completely rots. whether or not you want to write it is up to you i just really needed to share this with a hotch lover.

nonbau!reader knowing that the team have a really tough local case their all working overtime on and deciding to try to cheer them up and destress them a bit so she spend a few hours cooking this amazing delicious meal because she knows they'll probably just get takeout. so she swings by the bau around 6ish with the food and the whole team flock around her and around hugging her and thanking her and immediately digging in.

hotch notices from his office and comes down looking way grouchier than normal and hes like "excuse me we have a case to work on im not sure why youre all standing around when theres work to be done. and r why are you here distracting my team they need to focus" before going back into his office and the team is shook bc aaron has NEVER spoken to you like that before. and youre highkey offended like ?? i spent hours of my time doing a nice thing and im getting bitched at like im his subordinate??

but then you slam your purse down on jjs desk, take your earrings out and put your hair up in a ponytail and youre like "give me 15 minutes and ill have that attitude sorted put no problem." before marching away into hotchs office locking the door and drawing the shades and derek and emily are crying laughing cause they know exactly whats about to happen but reid is confused like ??? is she gonna fight with him? why did she put her hair up? whats so funny? and pen and jj have to explain that you went up there to give him a bj and hes just like?!?! AT WORK?!?? and rossi is just watching the shenanigans unfold like 🤭🤭

and you do eventually come back down from his office wiping your mouth on the back of your hand and your hair is significantly more ruffled than before and hotch looks subdued and even a little embarrassed and he just mutters a quiet apology to the team before grabbing a plate of the food you brought (which is actually his favorite meal of yours) before kissing you and thanking you for coming to see him.

My oh my, do I love the way your mind works 😈 Thank you for this request (& for your patience as I took 84 years to write it)! I hope you enjoy 🖤

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x wife!reader

(-indicates reader's texts)

__________

A rapid series of buzzes on the table beside you has you pulling your attention away from the sizable dent you’ve made in the stack of thesis papers to be graded for your class. You exchange your favorite pen for your phone, unlocking the screen to find several texts from your closest friend sent in quick succession:

5:49pm SOS

5:49pm (Save Our Stomachs)

5:50pm Pls we’ve been going in circles on this case and he’s in a Mood

You can’t help but smile at the he in question, your stoic, stalwart husband- and your friend’s unit chief. You fire back a response:

-5:50pm Em :( Is he holed up in his office?

5:50pm You know it

-5:51pm Classic 🙄 Lucky for youuuu I’m already making dinner for my favorite people!

The oven timer beeps as if to punctuate your statement, and you rise from your spot at the kitchen table while typing out another message.

-5:51pm Scratch that- it’s ready. Be there asap rocky

-5:51pm Be brave little soldier 🫡

5:53pm You’re my fucking hero

You gather enough plates and cutlery to dish up dinner to the team of agents, then pack them up alongside the foil-covered Pyrex container fresh out of the oven. Deciding against changing out of your yoga pants and your boyfriend’s old law school t-shirt, you pluck the pencil out of your bun that was holding your hair up and toss it onto the table, snag your keys, and make your way out to the car.

The drive into the city is a relatively short one, given that most of the traffic is heading in the opposite direction at this time on a Friday evening. You navigate your way into the parking garage, then head upstairs with your precious cargo.

“Evening, Mrs. Hotchner,” your favorite security guard greets you as you step out of the elevator, and you flash him a smile with a greeting in return. “Come grab a plate when you’re done your rounds,” you call over your shoulder, and his answering grin tells you he’ll be patrolling the floor a little faster than usual tonight.

Four heads pop up from their desks at the sound of the glass double doors opening, shoulders sagging with relief when they spot your bright smile and the telltale bag in your hand that means dinner is served. Derek’s quick to jump up and help you with the heavy container as Emily, Spencer, and JJ follow the two of you into the round table room, animatedly filling you in on their day. JJ’s fingers fly across her screen, and Penelope is rounding the doorway from the back hallway by the time you make it upstairs and start setting up, arms outstretched to pull you into a hug while declaring, “You’re my favorite Hotchner, did you know that?”

“We both know I come second to Jack,” you joke, and Emily lets out a happy groan as she digs into her meal, professing, “You’re at least tied now.”

A pair of solid hands lands on your shoulders from behind, and you feel the familiar scratchiness of Dave’s beard pressing kisses to your cheeks in greeting. “What would we do without you?”

With a laugh, you turn to offer him a helping and answer, “Simply perish.”

Your heart swells as the team settles down around the table enjoying the home cooked meal, but there’s one very obvious absence. A glance at your husband’s office reveals the door is still closed, the room dark save for a glow through the open blinds that you know is from his little desk lamp. Deciding to give him a few more minutes of solitude before barging in and demanding that he take a break to eat, you join your friends at the table to tell them about the senior prank your students recently pulled in an attempt to give their minds a reprieve from their current case.

“I bet you Morgan did stuff like that all the time,” JJ accuses amid catching her breath from laughing at the story about the two chickens released on the top floor, cleverly labeled one and three.

Derek smiles back, ready to take credit, but Emily cuts in with, “A psychological prank like that sounds more like something Spence would do.”

“C’mon now, pretty boy wouldn’t want to inconvenience his teacher,” Derek teases, eliciting a pout from the youngest of the team who counters with, “Hey, I won that prank war against-”

“What’s going on here?”

A hush falls over the room at the sound of Aaron’s voice, the question itself seemingly innocent but its intention clearly to reprimand. Five pairs of eyes drop downward, leaving only you and Dave making eye contact, the older man mouthing an empathetic, Busted, in your direction.

Unbothered, you swivel in your chair to meet your husband’s gaze with a cherubic smile, your voice positively dripping in honey. “Mom’s feeding the kids because Dad forgot that sustenance is important for your brain and body. Now c’mon, take a break and-”

“Does it seem like I have time for that right now?”

Your eyebrows shoot up at his tone, and you drop the teasing lilt to your voice. “Aar, I just wanted you guys to-”

“Go home, Y/N, please,” he requests quietly, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose with a soft exhale. “We can’t afford to be distracted right now. Everybody finish up and get back to work.” He turns on his heel and returns to his office without so much as a hello or goodbye or thank you, my love, for being so thoughtful and taking care of us directed your way.

Once his footfalls have receded, the entire group releases a collective breath as if they’ve just escaped being chewed out by the principal- at your expense. When you turn back around, you’re met with expressions of shock that reflect your own, like the kids literally just witnessed their dad being mean to their mom for the first time.

“You know how Aaron gets with a case,” Dave tries to soothe your ruffled feathers, and JJ jumps in with, “I’m sure he didn’t mean to come off like that, Y/N, he’s just-”

“Stressed?” you finish her thought for her. You rise abruptly from your chair, dropping your purse on the table with a resounding thud before digging through it to find a spare hair tie. “I know he is. And I also know my husband did not just say that to my face,” you grumble under your breath, combing your fingers through your hair to pull it into a quick ponytail while continuing your tirade. “After I spent hours making a meal between doing my own work? No sir, uh uh, SSA Hotchner. That man needs to relax.”

Spencer leans over to Derek while you carry on quietly cursing their boss for his attitude and asks, “Should we be concerned?”

Derek lets out a snicker before answering, “Maybe for Hotch’s di-”

“Dignity!” JJ cuts in with a sharp look at her colleague, trying and failing to suppress her own smile.

You pause in the doorway, squaring your shoulders before turning back to the team to say, “You guys eat. Enjoy. I’ll take care of your boss.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Emily snorts out, clearly amused. Laughter, applause, and a distinct wolf whistle courtesy of Derek follow you down the carpeted walkway to your husband’s office.

-----(Read Behind Closed Doors here!)-----

When you return to the round table room several not-so-subtle minutes later, you’re greeted by a bunch of giddy smiles, a knowing look from Rossi, and Spencer’s pink-tinged cheek since he’s refusing to make eye contact with you. “All better,” you announce proudly, dropping into a chair before tugging the hair tie from your now slightly tangled locks and combing your fingers through a few persistent knots. “Everybody good and full?”

“Some more than oth-”

You cut your sharp gaze over to Derek and he mimes zipping his mouth shut, a smirk still playing at his lips.

“What he means to say,” Pen huffs, slapping his shoulder, “is thank you so much for dinner, sweetie.”

“It was my pleasure,” you answer genuinely. “You know I love taking care of you guys.”

“And we’re very lucky you do,” your husband’s baritone voice rumbles from the doorway behind you. You turn to find a sufficiently chastened Aaron entering the room, and you offer him your cheek when he places his hands on your shoulders and bends to press a kiss to your smiling face. “I, uh, just wanted to apologize for my earlier-”

“Temper tantrum?” you offer, and Aaron squeezes your shoulders in warning before continuing, “Outburst. I let the stress of the case get the best of me and neglected my duties to prioritize the health of this team. Luckily, my darling wife is always there to make up for my shortcomings.”

You catch your best friend’s eye and shoot her an exaggerated wink at your husband’s word choice, forcing Emily to cover up a laugh with a cough. Aaron’s hand slides over to the nape of your neck, and you know you’re in for it once this case is over.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

__________

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner @iyv-ray24 @mrs-ssa-hotch @criminalskies @callm3c0nfus3d

[pupkashi]

when you’re sick

includes gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, itadori yuji, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuta

a/n: hi friends !! here are some headcanons on how the boys are when you’re sick </3 ty for the request and let me know what y’all think !! i also have a megumi drabble w sick!reader if u wanted more tooth rotting fluff :]

masterlist

— gojo satoru !

surprises you with how easily he slips into the role of a caretaker, immediately diagnoses you with ease and is providing you the perfect medicine to remedy your illness

“drink this tea i made it’ll help clear your nose up and help with your cough,” you state at him skeptically, but sure enough within the hour you feel better than you had the past few days

when you ask him how he just knows all these things he smiles fondly, “megumi went through a phase where he got sick quite often so i picked up a couple things”

cuddles you despite your protests of getting him sick, hits you with ‘im the strongest’ before pulling you into his chest, a smile on his face when you’re asleep within minutes

isn’t a great cook but he orders you so many soups and foods that know will be good for you !! wakes you up between naps to make sure you eat food and drink water, pedialite or gatorade

he finds you so adorable when you’re sick :( you’re just so clingy and soft and you need him there with you and it’s finally him taking care of you rather than the other way around and he’s just so happy to be the one taking care of you <3

“i know i look terrible right now” you chuckled and gojo only shook his head, smoothing your hair to make it look less of a mess and kissing your forehead

“you could never look terrible to me, lovebug” maybe it was the slightly high feeling from the nyquil or maybe this was all a fever dream but your bottom lip wobbled a bit as you looked at your lover

he’d never seemed more angelic than he did now, the sun rising casting a glow around his snowy hair, his beautiful blue eyes peering over the sunglasses he’d get to take off from his medicine run, his touch was relaxing as you melted into it

“i love you, angel boy” you mumbled, placing a kiss to his cheek before fluttering your eyes closed and drifting to sleep

gojo was left with a smile on his face, his cheeks rosy as he replied to you, “and i love you sweetheart”

— nanami kento !

warned you to take some medicine two days before you got even more sick but you brushed it off, “I’m not even sick this is just because of the change in weather” he’ll shake his head

it’s 1:47 am two days later when he reads the text you’ve sent him ‘i have a fever :(’ he can’t help the snicker that leaves his mouth as he slips on some pants and a shirt, heading out the door and on his way to yours

he takes your temperature by kissing your forehead

if you don’t have any medicine at yours he’ll probably just ask if it’s okay for you to go to his and if you say yes he’ll grab a couple changes of clothes for you, packing your bathroom stuff in a baggy and carrying to his car, placing you softly in the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt before rushing to the drivers side and heading back home

if you decide you’d rather stay home he’ll rush to his place and come back with all his medicine and things to make good herbal teas

brings half his damn fridge to make you soup tomorrow morning because he does not plan on leaving your side until you’re better !!!

makes the best chicken noodle soup you’ve ever had, he smiled when you finish your entire bowl, happy that at least you haven’t lost your appetite

makes sure to do everything to keep your fever down, a frown on his face when you since as he takes away your blankets and presses cold towels to your feverish skin

comforts you all night, holds you tightly to his body when you tell him how much your body aches

makes sure you stay on schedule with medicine, cooking you light meals to keep down, will even spoon feed you

tells you how proud he is of you for finishing your food before telling you to drink some water and get rest :-(

cleans your apartment for you, does your laundry if you have some piled up, will help you shower if your fever has been gone for long enough but you feel too exhausted

when you’re finally feeling better he kisses your forehead, grabbing his keys and you’re pouting on the couch, “going to work already?” he can’t help but smile at how hard you were trying to hide how sad you were

“I’m going to get us more groceries, i won’t be long” a smile on his face when your face relaxes a bit, “i promise” he reassures, walking over and kissing your cheek before waving goodbye and hurrying back to you

once you’re all healthy you invite him for dinner, cooking him his favorite thing you make and buying some dessert for the two of you to share

“thank you for taking care of me” you smile, your head resting on his firm chest, his arm that was draped over your shoulders pulled you in tighter

“I’ll take care of you any time you need me, my love”

he’s perfect :(

— fushiguro megumi !

when you tell him you’re sick he wants to drop everything and just be by your side, he knows how stubborn you can be and he wants to make sure you actually take care of yourself rather than brushing your needs off

shows up at your door with all kinds of medicine, takes you’re temperature and has you sit on the couch, asking if you’ve taken medicine or not

can tell pretty quickly if you have a cold or something else, giving you the appropriate medicine and putting away the others in your designated medicine cabinet or nook

makes you a packet of maggi soup because he doesn’t know if he trusts himself enough to make good enough chicken noodle soup that you’ll actually keep down

becomes so soft !!! with h be smiling at you the entire time to make you feel better, tells you anecdotes and listens to his favorite songs with you <3

will put on your favorite movies and watch them in bed with you, promising he won’t get sick from a couple cuddles

laughs at all of your lame jokes instead of rolling his eyes like usual, he thinks it’s the least he can do when you’re running a high fever and you’re slightly delirious

will try his best to be with you at all times but if there’s a mission he has to take or gojo won’t stop bothering him about he will text you or call you to make sure you eat and take medicine

says he hates dealing with you for the 15 minutes it takes for nyquil to fully kick in but he secretly loves how you’ll start serenading him with whatever song he played last or how you tell him you could beat his ass even in this condition

followed by a pathetic attempt of a punch which he allows to hit him, “okay let’s calm down Muhammad Ali” you giggle at his comment

“you’re so funny gumi! why don’t you ever tell anyone else jokes?” he blushes and shakes his head, finishing tucking you in and placing a kiss on your nose

“i save the best ones for you, pretty” you smile widely, your eyelids becoming heavier with every passing moment

“love you megumi” you murmur, instinctively curling into his side, he blushes and your breathing evens out, “i love you more,” he replies in a gentle whisper

when the others find out all he’s done for you while you were sick they call him when they get sick, only for him to hang up the phone after telling them to look it up

— itadori yuji !

poor angel boy assumes the worst and races over to your place in fear that you’re dying

“y/n?! are you alright?” the concern is evident in his voice and even more obvious when you see his brows intensely furrowed and lips sitting in a small pout

“yuj, i said i was coughing a lot and might be sick not that i was on the brink of death” he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly with the smallest of smiles

honestly doesn’t know what to do, he never really got sick and his grandfather always took care of himself enough where yuji didn’t have to worry

asks you what your symptoms are and you roll your eyes, deciding to entertain him for a bit

his eyes are wide as web MD practically tells him you’re dying in two hours and there’s no cure for your ailments

“I’m sorry i didn’t buy you flowers everyday, im sorry i didn’t get us concert tickets for the group you liked please forgive me when you pass on!” there’s a couple tears in his eyes and you almost feel bad for laughing

“yuji, lover boy, it’s probably just my allergies, im not gonna die” “oh? why didn’t you say so earlier” his tears are gone and he’s seemingly perfectly composed and you can’t help but fall a little harder for the dork in front of you

he’ll buy you medicine so long as you tell him what kind, and he’ll cook some meatballs for you to eat, happy that he’s keeping you fed and not completely useless

will cuddle with you if you get a fever, holding your impossibly close to him, whispering sweet nothings in your ears so you could get some rest

he’ll do anything you need him to do so that you can rest with peace of mind, laundry? done, dishes? washed, floor? sweeped and moped, you have any assignments or something you have to turn in while you’re sick? he’s asking nobara for her to chegg account or googling how to do it

doesn’t let you do a single thing until you’re better !! even helps you shower, sings for you while he shampoos and conditions your hair, if it’s long enough to make a spikes or a mohawk he will definitely do it

just such a sweet kind soul that will provide you with anything you need while you’re sick, and though the first time he’s inexperienced, by the time you get sick again he’s ready with any and all medicines and tea remedies to help nurse you back to health <3

— inumaki toge !

competes with nanami for best personal nurse !!! absolutely will do the most to get you healthy again

“sorry toge, gonna have to cancel our date for tonight i think I’m getting a fever” you spoke over the phone, “mustard leaf?” “my body just really hurts and i feel a little hot, you don’t have to come over i don’t wanna get you sick”

“bonito flakes” he frowns, hanging up the phone before you can protest already making his way to yours, stopping by the store to buy a couple things for you

amazing cook !!! makes you all sorts of things that have all the vitamins and things you need that aren’t too heavy

gives you pedialite to keep you hydrated and makes sure you drink every last drop of it

very firm when it comes to you taking your medicine, doesn’t care if you hate it or think you’re all better, you will be drinking the disgusting cherry flavor he bought (turns out you were not better as you almost got a fever that night had it not been for taking the medicine earlier)

#1 cuddler !!! “i don’t wanna get you sick” a pout on your face, inumaki shakes his head, “fish flakes” you giggle as he works his way next to you, “everyone gets sick, you’re saying you’ve never been sick?” “salmon”

he’s so warm and welcoming and you’re immediately melting into his arms so you choose to believe that he won’t get sick as you snore softly on his chest

won’t let you use more than one blanket if you have a fever, places damp towels on your body to control your fever, apologizes in kisses and cuddles along with amazing soup

will get you anything you need from the store so that you can take time to fully recover and sleep, never telling you how much it was even though he’s also buying you snacks and ice cream

absolutely will binge watch a tv show with you !! you guys get absolutely hooked on Hell’s Kitchen, blowing through an entire season in one day

toge grows convinced Gordon Ramsey would be a terrible curse to exorcise, you can’t help but giggle at his words

he is just so caring and amazing and will get you to pristine condition in no time :( as soon as you’re better you pepper his face in kisses and make him burst into a fit of giggle

you definitely take him out on a much deserved date afterwards (he gets food poisoning and then you have to take care of him) (he denies that this counts as being sick)

— okkotsu yuta !

gets so worried !! that poor boy is asking questions faster than you can answer on the other end of the line

“do you have a fever? a cough? food poisoning? is there medicine at home? I’m on my way back” you don’t get to argue before you hear the tone of him hanging up

it’s a while later that he shows up, taking you in his arms and kissing your forehead, “you’re burning up! we have to get you out of these layers what are you thinking?” leads you to bed, shocked at how many blankets you were in before his arrival

changes you into shorts and one of his t shirts, asking if you’ve eaten before he even hands you medicine

if you hadn’t he’ll whip up something quick, making sure you eat everything before giving you medicine and placing you in his lap, smoothing down your hair and talking to you about his day as you struggle to stay awake

places you in bed and ticks you in, cleaning up any tissues that were on the nightstand or on the floor, washing the dishes and putting your clothes to wash

he’s preparing dinner for the two of you when he hears you quiet calls for him

“yuta?” your voice is small and he’s next to you almost instantly, “what is it baby?” he frowns when he takes your temperature again, even higher than before

he’ll give you some more medicine, getting in bed with you and cuddling you to warm you up, his chest tightening as he feels your body shake a bit

makes you lots of teas for you to drink throughout the day, gives you so much water and soups !!!

when you’re okay enough to shower he’ll change your sheets, wash your pillows and blankets and set out fresh cleans for you

babies you so so much <3 doesn’t let you lift a finger and will get you absolutely anything you want (he has to remember to cancel his free trial on Hulu since you wanted to watch rio but neither of you had the streaming service)

very gentle with you !! brushes your hair out of your face with the softest touch in the world, his calloused fingers just barely touching your skin

will lay in bed with you for as long as you want, running a calming hand up and down your back or arm until you sleep or he gets up to get you something you need

he is just so attentive and sweet the entire time, never once missing the chance to tell you how much he loves and cares for you

[southparktexts]

Hi, could you do like, period comfort w/ main four? No pressure though, of course

ofc anon !!

Period Comfort w/ Main 4

stan ;

- when you got your period, he was kinda like ‘ok’

- he has a sister so he already knows all about periods and stuff

- i feel like he knows how to help you already

- if you got your period at his house he’ll grab you a pad

- i can see him just being a support man on the time of the months

- only letting you rest on the bed as he does everything

- mainly cuddles with you as the big spoon

- he knows you needa man at this time to make you feel better!

- if you take days off school because of your period, he will come over after school with your favourite snacks

- kisses and reassurance

“stanny.. my stomach hurts so much..”

“i know baby, i know.. ill go get a heat pack for you, okay?”

kyle ;

- deffo grossed out at first

- *ahem* microbiome episode

- but anyways…

- doesn’t know what to do, he either gets his mom over or you have to explain it

- his mom is so fucking nice to you as well, shows you where the pads / tampon cabinet is and pill cabinet

- after that his mom lectures him on periods and he learns

- next time you message him or get your period over at his house he runs to grab you stuff

“..shit..”

“whats wrong babe?”

“i got my period”

- this man is S P R I N T I N G.

- immediately throws in a heat-pack in the microwave

- running to grab pads and spare underwear for you and painkillers

- would deffo make gift baskets for you

- filled with teddys that have heating inside, chocolates, your favourite snacks, soups



kenny ;

- this man knows nothing

- literally nothing

- the ONLY and ONLY way he knows about periods is either the internet

- or he heard his mom explain it to his younger sister

- would slightly panick when you got your period

- like what does he do

- COMFORT TALK.

- saying shit like “you’re okay..” “just breathe f’me..”

- hes definitely panicking but not like tweek type of panic

- this can ONLY go two ways:

“shit.. i just got my period.”

“oh.. whats that.”

OR

“fuck me.. i think i got my period”

“oh shit do you need anything?!?! water????”

- probably treats you so delicately on your period

- like your pregnant or something

- read online that sex can help with period cramps..

- yk where im going w this.

cartman ;

- GROSSED OUT.

- more of the fact that he touched a bloody tampon once and fondled with it without knowing thats blood coming from your vag

- *AHEM* the one scene where cartman finds stan’s mom’s tampon in the trash

- definitely makes a face but definitely knows that you can’t control it

- WILL DEFFO MAKE REMARKS LIKE “couldn’t you make it later”

- when you got your period near him he immediately called his mom

- but not for you

- because you got blood on the couch.

“MOOOOMMMM Y/N GOT BLOOD ON THE COUCH.”

“bruh.”

- cartman’s mom would be like kyles mom but a lot nicer

- talks you through where everything is

- next time you get your period you basically know where everything is and you tell his mom and him

- cartman cuddles you and puts blankets on you silently

- while cartman’s mom is basically support

- if you have cravings and you tell him.. well..

“MOMMMMM Y/NS CRAVING COOKIES”

“nono its fine mrs. cartman-“

“oh of course honey”

[sunaluv]

in which miles morales is unfaithful

it was a rare, quiet night where crime was not as active and the citizen of brooklyn were behaving themselves for once and sleeping during the night. during nights like these, you often find yourself inviting miles into your room, following the routine of awkwardly chatting and flirting with each other for a few minutes before the both of you end up on the bed. his arm looped around your shoulder, fingers restlessly caressing your shoulder every once in a while.

"you sure it's okay for you to be here right now? no spiders will be crawling in my room in the middle of the night?" you turned to lie on your stomach, teasing gaze locked onto him.

"none but me," his hooded gaze dropped from your lips to your eyes, a lazy smirk growing on his face. "you don't gotta worry about a thing, she won't find out."

find out about what exactly? oh nothing, just about how gwen stacy's boyfriend has been sneaking around with you behind her back. just about how most of his free time was spent in your room lip locking, playing with each others hair, sleepovers or having deep conversations that feel to intimate for two 'friends'.

your head dropped to lay beside him, and you reach for his hand. "i know she's not gonna find out. i just wish she'd stop hovering around me all the time." an exaggerated sign left your lips.

"no you don't," he chuckled, packing your cheeks lovingly. "you love the thrill of sneaking around, knowing she only thinks she has me, but you got a chokehold on my heart, mami."

he hit the nail on the head there. "say it again"

his hand shrouded over yours, and slowly trailed in down, stopping at where his heart beats under his basketball jersey. "feel that? its all for you."

its moments like these where you wonder why he's dating her. even if he was doing this with her, you knew for sure in your heart that the level of intimacy did not reach the one you shared.

your hands held his face gently and nothing was said for a minute as you just stared at each other, communicating all the emotions that you couldn't express out loud.

like magnets, your faces drew closer together before your lips met in a kiss which was yet again, way to intimate for 'the other woman' to be receiving.

the night progressed as the two of you non verbally communicated everything you wanted to say to each other, because the both of you shared the logic of 'if i don't say it out loud, it doesn't count'

the night began to come to its end, and thus came the dreaded goodbye. you both know that if he leaves now, the next time he returns, you'll start from square one again, making awkward conversation to distract yourselves from how much you desire each other.

"do you really have to go now," your arms locked around his torso in protest. "you can stay a while, stay the night even?"

"it's very tempting," he frowned, caressing your cheek. "but you know my mom, she'll flip the whole town over if im not there in the morning."

it hurt his heart to see your frown deepen, so he kissed the creases inbetween your eyebrows to get you to release the tension. "dont frown, ill be back. you know i always will be."

with that, you watched the boy you loved the most leave you for the day. as much as you enjoyed the thrill of being 'the other woman', you wished you weren't restricted to seeing him when the sky was dark and nobody was looking your way.

that was probably the only thing gwen stacy had on you.

and you hated it.

[filmnoirsbian]

oh i forgot to update you - im the person who back in december asked for tips about flying for the first time. thank you btw. i was really nervous because [insert myriad of reasons] but i got through it, and the flight attendants were all so nice to me and i think could tell i was really nervous about messing up or getting in their way. at one point i didnt know what was going on with my bag and was afraid to miss my connecting flight (at my last flight they needed people to volunteer to check their bags for free, but then at the next airport i couldnt figure out where to go - there were two directions for different carousels - and i started panicking because i was afraid my bag wouldnt make it with me and i had like less than 15 minutes to find my bag and get to my flight) but they were super nice and helped me find my bag when i still couldnt figure out where it would be even though thats not their job (i dont think). i really appreciated it and i made sure to let them know because it really just, helped my anxiety deplete that they werent mad at me for being so panicked and not being able to clear my head to think straight and figure it out, they just helped and were understanding even though you guys have such long days. it really made it easier to handle especially because i have a lot of chronic illnesses (both physical & mental) so flying by myself already took a lot out of me. anyway sorry for rambling its just been on my mind that i had a really good experience :) and i took all your advice (except packing too many clothes. i made a mistake, thought i needed that many for 9 days. will not make it again lmao) and had a really good flight. thanks again for the advice :’) and also thank you for i guess doing your job? i know you werent one of my flight attendants - or i dont think you were - but the sentiment stands, i think. i think y’all are just as integral as any other worker and deserve to be thanked!! if i fly again im going to make sure to always thank my flight attendants :), i did when i flew this trip and it made me really happy to see how happy it made the attendants. at least, i hope it made them happy. either way, you really helped simplify some of my trip. thanks !

It probably really made them happy! It's always very rewarding feeling like I've helped a passenger have a better experience than they otherwise might have had, and I'm glad they got to do that for you! Thanks for the update 🖤

[teyammybeloved]

my girls - neteyam sully

genre - fluff, little angst

summary - reader is scared to tell neteyam the true reason behind why she is sick, because of a previous conversation she overheard

characters- y/n, fem!navi reader, aged up neteyam

word count - 5.4k

warnings - miss communication, use of she/ her, and y/n, pregnancy, dad neteyam.

Y/N FELT her mate’s presence as he entered the small hut, where she had been previously resting. she knew he was there but made no effort to move.

neteyam looked over at his mate, who he first assumed was asleep, but the soft sway of her tail gave her away, he frowned. something was wrong. normally she would rush to meet the war party, rushing to check if everyone was okay — especially neteyam.

so when he got off his ikran, to find his girl no where to be seen, he was instantly filled with worry. he placed his bow down next to the entrance, before taking off his other required equipment.

“yawne?” neteyam said, walking slowly towards where she was resting on the mat, her ears perked up, sitting softly as she was filled with an overflow of nausea again. “you’re back” she said softly, leaning forward to wrap her arms around his next as he kneeled next to her.

“you’re burning up yawne, are you sick?” he asked.

she shook her head, before shrugging softly. “how was it?” she asked, disregarding his question as she wiped the tired from his eyes. normally the two would walk around the village, y/n listening to every detail about what had happened, but right now neteyam was more worried about his mate.

“baby, what is the matter?” he said, placing the back of his hand to her forehead, “should we go see grandmother?” he asked, wanting to know if there was an illness going around, or if something serious was wrong.

“no i am fine, its just very warm today. i missed you this morning” y/n said, changing the topic once more, neteyam smiled at the soft confession, y/n moved over so he could join her on the mat.

“i missed you too, you looked so peaceful i didn’t want to wake you” he said, kissing her forehead softly. she sighed, “have you been sleeping well, yawne?” he asked, noticing the soft bags beneath her eyes.

she just hummed, curling herself into his chest. he placed his hand softly on her back, placing another kiss on the top of her head.

“you falling asleep on me?” he asked, looking down to see her droopy eyes, deep in thought. she looked so beautiful, he thought. she shook her head. “no no, sorry. i should probably go help mo’at with the injured” she said, moving to get up.

he grabbed her waist tightly, pulling her back into him, “im sure her and kiri can handle it” he said, whispering softly into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her.

“i dont know nete, its been pretty rough the last few times” she said, once again trying to get up. neteyam groaned, “can’t you stay here just this once?”

“nete, we have all tomorrow, together. remember?” she said, rubbing his bicep softly, neteyam looked away, his eyes filled with guilt.

“oh- we don’t?” y/n asked, neteyam sighed, “dad asked me to help train some young warriors, you know what he is like..” neteyam said, guilt dripping from his tone.

y/n just nodded, pulling away from his grasp to get up, off of the mat, “well, we will find time, but i really do have to go” she said, pushing a few braids behind her ears. fixing the cloth covering her chest. neteyam sighed as he watched her.

“what time will you be back?” he asked, standing up to join her, standing behind her as she fixed the fabric.

she hummed, leaning softly into his touch, “sometime after eclipse?” she shrugged. “i must go, yawne.” she said, turning around to place a soft kiss on his lips, before slipping out of the entrance before he could respond.

she did as she said she was, she went to the healing tent, seeing it packed with warriors and men, covered in injuries. mo’at, neytiri and kiri were all happy to see more help, y/n was truely a wonderful healer

she quickly got to work, ignoring the nausea and fatigue that came over her, after over two and a half hours, the tent was basically cleared. only one more warrior, who had a nasty gash on his back.

“you need to be more careful.” y/n warned softly, placing the medicine on the boys back. the warrior looked up at the na’vi fixing up his cuts.

“you are neteyam’s mate” he said, y/n nodded, a soft laugh leaving his mouth. “he was talking about you all day” the warrior said, words coming out as a soft groan as she pressed a little too roughly on the gash, “sorry-“ she muttered.

he nodded, she quickly wrapped him up, he thanked her before walking out. a loud sigh left her mouth. rubbing a hand over her face. “im exhausted” she said, kiri smiled softly as she finished mixing a new medicine.

“are you sick, child?” mo’at asked, y/n shook her head, why did everyone keep asking. neytiri and mo’at looked at each other. kiri looked at y/n who gave her a look, almost as if she was asking if kiri knew what the two were thinking, kiri only shrugged.

“y/n, do you mind if i examine you, just really quickly” neytiri asked, y/n paused, wondering if she looked sick, was her nausea obvious?

“uh- sure” she said, shrugging softly, both neytiri and mo’at approached her.

they did a few exams, checking a lot of different things before stopping to look at each other, they shared a look, kiri was beaming from the other side of the room as she noticed what was going on.

“what is it?” y/n asked.

mo’at took the lead, “y/n, eywa has blessed you with a gift” she said, neytiri placed a hand on y/n’s stomach, y/n looked up in confusion, worry filling her eyes.

“y/n- you are with child” neytiri said, y/n paused, her whole body freezing up. “wh- what? are you sure”

“baby is strong, strong heart, strong mind” mo’at said, “you must tell neteyam!! he will be so happy” kiri said, y/n only frantically shook her head.

“no - no he does not want this!” y/n said, tears pooling her eyes, the three of them frowned, neytiri grabbed onto the girls hand as a sob left her mouth.

“you don’t know that” kiri said, walking towards her brothers mate, a soft smile on her face, but y/n just sobbed.

“yes i do, i know he doesn’t want this. i heard him tell lo’ak he doesn’t want children yet — he wants to focus on training, he will hate me” she sobbed

neytiri hugged the girl as kiri frowned, “oh y/n”

“you must not worry, stress can harm the child” mo’at warned, y/n sobbed harder. “you must tell neteyam, but when you are ready.” neytiri said, rubbing the girls back softly.

“are you alright?” kiri asked, as she started to calm down, y/n nodded. “yes- i think im going to take a walk..” she said, needing a minute alone before returning home to neteyam. she couldn’t tell him yet, he would leave her.

“are you sure y/n? its passed eclipse, be careful” neytiri said, “i will tell jake, so if anything happens, he knows where you’re going”

y/n thanked her mother inlaw before leaving the healing pod, taking a deep breath. she knew it wouldn’t be long until neteyam was asleep, maybe, thats if he didn’t stay up worrying about his mate.

she was walking for a little over an hour, finding herself at the tree of souls. she sat down and all of a sudden it was like everything came crashing down. “please ewya, give me the strength to tell neteyam, please help me, i can’t lose him.”

y/n returned home an hour after, officially it had been nearly three hours since she left for her walk and neteyam was going out of his mind, jake had said that she was safe and okay, but that only irritated him more, howcome his father knew where his wife was when he didn’t? it drove him insane.

when she walked through the entrance of their shared hut. her face was calm, almost stone, but there was a slight bloachyness on her face, she had been crying. “y/n?” neteyam said softly, standing up from the chair he had been sitting on.

“sorry im late” she said, rubbing her eyes as a small yawn left her mouth. “have you eaten yawne?” neteyam asked, he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset at her.

she hadn’t, but she wasn’t really hungry either, so she just nodded. he frowned, missing the nights they got to eat together, sleep together, do everything together.

they barely had any time one on one anymore. and it drove him insane. he was always busy with his father, and hunting, and tasks, and she was always busy with healing, teaching, learning. he missed his wife.

she was always tired and it broke his heart, he just wanted to give her the world and it felt as if he was failing.

“yawne, do you want to get ready for bed? i was thinking tomorrow once i get back we could go for a fly together?” he offered, she frowned, wanting nothing more then to do that.

“im sorry, i thought you were going to be busy all day so i told mo’at id help in the hut.” she confessed guilty, it wasn’t a lie, mo’at had asked, and since she had a free day, no longer dedicated to neteyam, she accepted.

“fuck” he groaned. it seemed like no matter what they never had time anymore. “nete?” she cooed softly, wondering what was going through his mind.

“im sorry yawne, i just miss you” he said, walking over to her to wrap his arms around her waist as she changed into a more comfortable covering.

“i can see if kiri can do it?” she said, feeling bad. guilt flooding her stomach as his hands pressed right against her stomach, where there was a child, a baby. his baby.

a baby he didn’t want.

she knew she would have to tell him, but there was a sense of selfishness inside her, if she told him, it would be over right? he said he wanted to focus on training, and he wasn’t ready. yet here she was carrying his child he had no idea about.

it broke her heart, he had no idea.

how would he react, would he ignore her and shut her out, get angry and yell, blame her? kick her out? would he hate her and tell her he never wants to see her again?

right now she couldn’t lose him, but what if all the stress eventually builds up and then she loses the baby, should she end things with him before he can? does he have to know about the baby at all.

of course he does, that is his child, he has a right to know even if he wants nothing to do with it.

“whats going through your pretty little head?” he cooed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. she smiled, shaking her head. “nothing important. bed?” she asked, tiredness overcoming her.

he hummed, grabbing her hands to lead her to the hammock outside.

the next week was the worse, y/n kept looking for a time to tell him, but they were both overly busy with work and tasks.

today, they were hanging out with lo’ak and tsireya, who had moved from the metakayna clan to be with lo’ak. “we have something to tell you both” lo’ak said.

neteyam was sitting with his arm slung around y/n, holding her close to him, her head rested on his shoulder. y/n instantly perked up at the mention, she had been getting more and more sick, the morning sickness was eating her alive, thankfully, neteyam had yet to catch on, he always left before y/n woke up to get an early start on his tasks so he had more time for her during the evening.

she however, had been having more check ups with mo’at finding out she is roughly just over a month along, and soon she would have a bump forming.

tsireya smiled softly, as lo’ak looked at her, giving her the go ahead to tell them. “we are with child” she said, a massive smile forming across her face.

neteyam instantly stood up to congratulate the both, as did y/n a massive smile forming across neteyam’s face, it almost broke her heart. y/n instantly wrapped her arms tsireya, congratulating her.

“hey- be careful, thats my wife and child!” lo’ak said, y/n and tsireya laughed, neteyam chuckled along before speaking, “calm down daddy lo’ak.” he said, although over the moon for his brother.

lo’ak shook his head softly, “as if you wouldn’t be protective of y/n if she was pregnant” lo’ak joked, but it hit y/n hard, she just went quiet, tensing slightly.

neteyam smiled, wrapping his arms around his mate, “of course i would.” he said, y/n didn’t expect his words, moreso him expecting to shut it down as soon as possible.

“how far along are you?” y/n asked, slowly moving out of neteyam’s grasp, to talk to tsireya, trying to not let how uncomfortable she was show. “just over a month!”

that also his y/n hard. they were roughly around the same way along, that means there kids would be the same age, and probably best friends — if neteyam didn’t leave her and ban her from the clan.

she knew he wasn’t low enough to do that, but the two of them never really spoke about kids, not since they were teenagers, neteyam had said he wanted kids but he wanted to focus on being a leader first — although that was before the two had mated and got married.

but even then, more recently, only a month ago he had said he wasn’t ready yet, and so she just assumed he would leave her.

tsireya noticed her quiet aroma, different to how it usually was, looking towards lo’ak and neteyam who were deep in a conversation, she looked at y/n who forced a smile at her.

“me and y/n are going to go to the river, have a girls chat. meet you back in… an hour?” tsireya said, neteyam frowned, not liking that the one free time he had with his wife was being taken up by someone else, but the two were walking off before he could protest.

“women” lo’ak joked, neteyam smiled softly. “hey does y/n seem off to you?” neteyam asked, watching as his mate walked out of the village. “i mean, i haven’t really noticed, shes a little quieter but shes been working a lot no? tsireya said shes been in the healing hut a lot.” lo’ak shrugged,

neteyam sighed, “its more then that, shes not telling me something, but i have no idea what”

lo’ak shrugged, neteyam only shook it off, “so daddy lo’ak huh?” he said, lo’ak pushed his brother away, playfully.

“whats going on” tsireya asked as the two of them approached the river, y/n shook her head, “nothing, what do you mean?” she asked, lying obviously.

“y/n… are you with child?” tsireya asked straight up, causing y/n to snap her head towards the other, “wh- what?”

tsireya smiled, getting her answer just by the girl’s reaction. “you immediately went quiet when lo’ak mentioned you being pregnant and youre being kind of distant from neteyam, i was the same when i found out, i didn’t tell lo’ak until a few days ago”

y/n immediately broke down crying, tsireya sighed, wrapping her arms around the girl. “was it that obvious?” she asked, tsireya shook her head, “no- no. i just know you, and its the same way i was acting- why haven’t you told neteyam, im sure he would love to be a dad”

“i overheard him saying he wasn’t ready and wanted to focus on hunting for a bit” y/n confessed, feeling even more guilty, it felt like everyone knew but neteyam.

“y/n- lo’ak said the same thing. but when i told him he was over the moon, i think they’re just boys, and the way they grew up was to put training and hunting first. but you know your neteyam’s number one priority right?”

y/n only stayed quiet, tsireya frowned at her best friend, she hated seeing the girl beside herself. she knew from experience its hard keeping something so serious and deep from your mate, and with the fear that they will hate you for it, even worse.

they didn’t realise how much time had passed, y/n was rushing to wipe away her tears and make herself presentable as she heard a stick snap and familiar laughter belonging to her mate.

tsireya and y/n both ended up rushing into the water, just so it seemed like they were doing something other then talking about what they were, tsireya swore not to tell, yet very excited that her child would have a best friend the same age, and that they were going through this together.

they shared stories about how the pregnancy was going, how they found out, how bad their morning sickness was, and overall just comforted each other, it was nice.

“babe?” she heard lo’aks voice, as he peered through the forest, finding the two girls in the water, “they’re over here” he called to neteyam.

lo’ak instantly approached, “how are you? how is the baby” tsireya couldn’t even answer before he asked more questions, “are you hurt? is baby hurt?”

“lo’ak, i am fine, and so is the baby” tsireya smiled softly, neteyam appeared a second after smiling as he saw his wife floating on her back, with her eyes closed.

“y/n” she heard neteyam’s voice, instantly opening her eyes, she returned to standing in the water. “do you want to go on a fly later?” he asked.

y/n felt a whole other load of guilt unpoor, she had agreed to go see mo’at with tsireya and have a checkup together. neteyam seemed to see it on her face, the guilt, the rejection.

“tsireya asked me to go with her to her appointment, they’re finding out the gender.. she wants me to know before them to help set up like — a gender reveal thing, apparently your dad mentioned it”

neteyam frowned, first work was stealing his wife away, now tsireya and a baby?

lo’ak got carried away explaining to neteyam what a baby shower was, instantly taking the heat off of y/n, who looked at tsireya, who just smiled softly,

it wasn’t a lie, the both of them were finding out the others gender. so they could have a shared baby shower, which was tsireya’s idea, but y/n was warry, was it okay for her to be getting this ahead of herself when neteyam still had no idea that this baby even existed.

“talking about that, we should start heading back” tsireya said, grabbing onto y/n’s hand for the two of them to walk out of the lake together.

“y/n can i speak to you before you go?” neteyam asked, y/n nodded, tsireya muttered something about meeting her there before she walked off with lo’ak.

he smiled as she approached him. “whats up?” she asked, he just leaned down to place a kiss on her lips. he groaned into the kiss, missing the way her lips felt on his, he deepened the kiss, grabbing her hips.

she laughed, pulling away, wrapping her arms around his neck. “what’s brought this on?” she asked, as he leaned down to kiss her jaw and down her neck.

“ ‘jus miss you” he said, kissing her collar bone before reconnecting their lips. she smiled into the kiss, before the guilt came back. “neteyam-“ she said pulling away, he attempted to chase the kiss but didn’t get anywhere. “i really have to go, i promised her.”

“fuck the appointment y/n” he said, tone rough as he reconnected their lips, pulling her closer to him. “teyam, this is important.” she said as she pulled away, placing her hands on his chest.

“everything seems to be more important” he said, y/n felt hurt, it wasn’t one sided, he was busy too. “are you blaming me?” she asked softly, eyes furrowed.

“no- i’m just saying— we don’t spend any time together anymore.

y/n didn’t know if she could handle this conversation right now, she also did really need to go. “can we talk about this later please- i really have to go” she said. silently begging.

he frowned, sighing, before releasing her, she frowned at his annoyed expression — not even bothering to spare her a glance or say goodbye.

tears pooled her eyes before she started walking away. her mind clouded as he turned back around, his back was to her. “neteyam” she said softly, voice cracking.

“we aren’t going just for tsireya” she said, before leaving, leaving her mate alone with his thoughts, alone to ponder about what she meant by her words.

“you’re child is strong, but stressed, tell neteyam” mo’at said, placing her hand softly on y/n’s belly, they had just finished tsireya’s and y/n was now the one who was being checked, mo’at had written the gender of tsireya’s baby on a piece of paper and given it to y/n, and had just done the same for y/n.

the appointment didn’t go for very long, the two left about twenty minute after it had started. “tsi” y/n said, looking at her friend. “do you think i could stay with you tonight?” she asked.

tsireya immediately softened, nodding softly. “of course, what happened?” y/n explained the small argument and how she was slightly nervous to go back home to see him. tsireya understood, feeling for her friend.

“ill tell lo’ak, do you want me to get him to tell neteyam so he isn’t worried?” tsireya asked her friend who hadn’t stopped looking at the paper in tsireya’s hands, which was folded shut.

“yeah- yes please” y/n answered, tearing her gaze from the paper. she followed tsireya back to the hut tsireya and lo’ak shared.

“lo’ak, can you do me a favour?” lo’ak immediately perked up, staring at his pregnant wife, willing to do anything she asked. “could you please let him know y/n is staying with us tonight”

“she is? why”

“yes she is, don’t ask and just do” tsireya said, annoyed, not really at the boy, moreso at the fact she didn’t know how much y/n wanted him to know.

lo’ak nodded, heading out to talk to his brother. “im scared.” y/n confessed, tsireya just gave her a half hearted smile, wrapping her arms around the girl.

“hey neteyam” lo’ak said, looking at his brother who looked.. frantic, in his hut, eyes wide when he noticed his little brother standing at the entrance. “fuck - lo’ak have you seen y/n?” he asked.

lo’ak instantly started to panic as well, neteyam had no idea where she was he calmed himself down when he remembered why he was here. “yeah yeah, i do, shes at mine with tsireya.” lo’ak said, neteyam instantly sighed with relief.

“they wanted me to come tell you that y/n is gonna stay with us tonight, they didn’t tell me why - actually yelled at me not to ask. and im scared of those women together so i just didn’t”

“fuck!” neteyam cursed, griping his hair tightly as panic overflowed. lo’ak began to worry, “whats wrong? what happened?” lo’ak asked.

“we argued- kind of, but then she said she wasn’t going to mo’at just for tsireya?? i dont know what she meant, it could be anything right? do you think she is really sick?” neteyam ranted.

lo’ak put the pieces together in his head, the reason y/n was so quiet, the reason she went with tsireya, the reason his mate was bubbling with excitement when she was walking back with him. “neteyam, bro? have you noticed y/n being sick?” lo’ak asked.

neteyam furrowed his eyebrows, “no? she is just sleeping a lot? what is going on.” he asked.

“fuck, tomorrow, talk to y/n. be understanding.” he said.

“is she in love with someone else?” neteyam asked, worry filling his chest, he hadn’t spent a night alone in his hut since the two had gotten it, despite going on a few hunting trips, he still spoke to y/n through coms every single night he was away.

and now he was alone in his hut, no way to communicate with her as he noticed her com sitting on the desk, it annoyed him slightly, what if she had gotten hurt and he had no idea cause she wasn’t wearing her com.

his mind was spiralling, he felt insane without her. it had been building up but he couldn’t help it.

and he was worried, why did she need an appointment with mo’at? why would she go with tsireya if it was completely different.

oh.

y/n was basically asleep, despite the goosebumps that fell along her skin, she was use to the warmth of neteyam’s body when going to sleep, she hated the cold, and he was never cold.

she missed him, feeling bad, she couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing, maybe he liked it better when she wasn’t there, not asking for his attention every two seconds. she was just thinking about him, she was worried, what if he hated her for what he said.

did he catch on? did he understand what she meant. she wondered if he was mad, it drove her to the brink of insanity.

she felt a groan from the room next to her where neteyam and tsireya were sleeping, or so she thought, it was a groan of annoyance, before she could ignore it, lo’ak walked in.

“this is for you” he said, handing her his com, she looked up in confusion, furrowing her eyebrows. “he hasn’t left me alone since i left, says he wont stop till he speaks to you” lo’ak explained, almost begging her to put him out of his misery, “i just want to sleep” he said, before walking out, back to his room.

“hello?” she said, pressing the button, she knew how to use it since neteyam had given her one, saying to wear it everywhere she went, however today, she didn’t.

“yawne?” she heard neteyam’s voice, her confused expression fell into a frown, she was tempted to turn it off and stop replying, but the softness in his voice made her worry.

“neteyam? what is the problem?” she asked, looking up at the roof of the hut, he groaned, almost as if he was in pain. “the fact i am talking to you through my brothers fucking com, and not in person with you in my arms” he said.

she smiled, her heart warmed, even after she had said what she said, he still missed her, which mustve meant he didn’t catch on to her slight confession.

she then frowned, “neteyam.” she muttered, not understanding what he wanted her to do. “come home, yawne.” he said, almost begging. he needed her home, “please, you don’t have to talk to me but i need you to come home, i will come get you, please”

she sighed, feeling guilty, “okay neteyam” she gave in, shaking her head softly, “fuck- yes, ill be there in a minute. thank you yawne”

y/n sighed as she moved the com from her mouth, walking into the other room she placed the com next to lo’ak, tsireya sat awake, while lo’ak was dead asleep.

“where are you going?” she asked, y/n smiled softly, “neteyam asked me to go home — i don’t think he knows. must of missed my comment” she said, believing there was no other reason.

“he is coming to pick me up, don’t worry.” she said, as tsireya smiled, leaning back. “good luck, let me know how you go, yeah?”

“thank you, for everything”

the cold air nipped at y/n’s skin, as she stood outside waiting for neteyam, when she saw him, she immediately felt warmer.

his hair was a mess, his daily loincloth and been replaced with one he had worn for sleep, the idea of someone else seeing him like that couldn’t help but make y/n a bit jealous.

he didn’t even wait for her to say anything, instantly wrapping his arms around her, taking a long deep breath, inhaling her scent like he had gone years without her.

“god i missed you” he said, she didn’t respond. just hugged him back, she missed him as well.

“come, lets go home, yawne” he said. pulling on her hand, bringing her in front of him, he held her hips as he stood tall behind her, leading her home.

“neteyam.” she said as they reached their hut, he turned to her, it was the first time she had spoken, he hated her use of his full name, she always called him the shortened version. “yawne?”

“i need to tell you something, and i think i should do it before we go in” she said, inhaling deeply, nerves biting her as the urge to tell him not to worry came up. “what’s wrong yawne?” he asked, pulling her close to him.

“tey- im pregnant.” she finally said the words, and the tears came flowing, she couldn’t help it, nothing she did, she wanted to be strong and tell him she understood he wasn’t ready and that she understood that he was going to end things.

but none of that happened, she just cried, too scared to look at his reaction, but she felt his hands on her, pulling her closer to rub her back.

“im sorry- i know you don’t want it and you’re going to leave me, im sorry tey” she sobbed into his chest, he was shocked, he already knew she was pregnant, he caught on after he comment, maybe that played a part in why he missed her so much. but leave her?

“baby- what.. what are you talking about. leave you? why would i leave you.” he said, pulling her face away to look at her, fear covering her entire face. “i know you told lo’ak you didn’t want kids yet, and you want to focus on hunting and training, im sorry i ruined it for you, please dont hate me” she sobbed.

he was shocked with every word that left her mouth.

“what are you even- no baby- oh god. i was telling lo’ak i wasn’t ready to train kids. dad has been trying to make us start with 7 year olds, neither of us are ready to train a whole group of little kids, that- i didn’t say i wasn’t ready yawne. god im so ready, i’ve been ready, i just didn’t want to pressure you into anything, gosh im so sorry, i can’t believe you were so scared, i could never leave you”

he was now crying as well, the two of them besides themselves, you were crying because it was a lot of information to take in, and neteyam crying because he was going to be a dad.

“ewya, im so happy, so so happy- i love you so much baby, so so so much” he said, connecting his lips with yours.

“and you too, little one, i love you so much”

“its a girl” y/n sobbed, she hated that she could see what mo’at was writing, and the fact that her and tsireya were very bad at keeping secrets, they ended up just telling the other the gender.

tsireya was having a boy, and y/n a girl.

“you found out?” he said, looking up from where he was kneeling before her stomach. y/n immediately felt guilty. “im sorry.” she said, wiping her teary eyes.

“don’t be baby. my two girls. gosh i cant wait to meet you” he said speaking to your belly, as if it was gonna respond.

his two girls

[strangerthingsn]

My evil dad

Summary: You’re Eddies pregnant girlfriend during season 4 of stranger things. Eddie is not gonna die at the end tho!

a/n: I just came up with this idea a week ago so now I started writing it! (If you find any type faults or anything else please mention!)

warning:needles, tattoo, mad dad (y/ns), a lil bit angst, crying Eddie, pet names, and female y/n

Chapter four~ dear Billy

A hand on your cheek, that’s the thing that woke you up this morning. His fingers going over your face softly. You open your eyes seeing Eddie laying infrond of you.

“Did I sleep the whole night? Is this like the next day?” You look worried.

“yeah but it’s okay, you told your mom you will be with Gareth right? She’s probably not gonna worry about it.” He calms you down. Alice is still sleeping between you two. You kiss her forehead and you rub her belly softly.

“you are a very good mom you know that?” Eddie watches you.

You smiles, “you’re a better dad”.

“No definitely not. I already knew your were gonna be a good mom before she was born.” He wraps his arm around your waist. You smile giving him a pec.

“I love you”

“love you too” he gives a lil pec back. You were both looking at Alice in a comfortable silence.

“you going home?” He looks up at you again.

“I think so, I’ve gotta shower and get food for us.”you sit up.

“Is your mom home?”

“No. She always works on this day.” You shake your head.

“are you with your car then?” He has a plan you can hear that in the way he talks.

“uh yes? What’s your plan?” You grin at him.

“Going with you.”

“but they are looking for you everywhere baby” you stroke your hands through his hair.

“Your home in not on the middle of town. It’s far enough from the police station. Dustin and the others are not visiting me today, and I’ll be careful. Please.” He gives you those puppy eyes.

You shake your head, “fine Eddie.” You smile a bit.

“maybe we can give Alice her first bath together.” He smiles.

“okay okay.” You get up.

“I should sit down again, cause she probably wants to eat right now” he points at yawning Alice with open eyes.

“ill do it when I pack the bag then”you shrug your shoulders. He grabs your wrist and pulls you down.

“sit. I’ll do it.” He gets up already.

“fine” you giggle and pick Alice up carefully. She look at you tearing up already.

“ I know I know… I’ll feed you and then we’ll take care of your diaper.” You smile softly. Then you pull your shirt up to let Alice drink.

———

“got everything?” Eddie says while looking at you.

“yep.”

“You feed Alice and give her a new diaper?”

“check.” You smile at him.

You open the door carefully then you look around. No one to see. And it’s so silent you will hear a car from far away.

“come” you whisper and run to your car. Eddie nods and runs after you with the bag. Being really careful with Alice in your jacket. You open the car and you get in the frond seat and Eddie in the bagseat. You pull the blanket over him.

“can you still breath?” You chuckle.

“yes but I would like some company”

“lucky you. I have some company in my jacket!” You smile and give him Alice. He takes her and lays her on his chest.

“I think she can breathe, what do you think?” You look at the blanket.

“seriously? She’s been in your belly for 9 months without breathing. Ofcourse she can.”

“that’s not really how it works love” you laugh and start the car.

“well then she will cry if she can’t anyways” he holds the blanket open just a lil bit for fresh air.

“Im gonna drive baby, I’ll be careful for you two” you give gass, not much but you are on your way home. You turn the radio on with I love rock n roll softly on the background. You listen to Eddie mumbling to Alice under the blanket.

“did you know your mom is gonna be the greatest tattoo artist.” He tells Alice. It makes you smile. You were in your final year on high school. That means you also gotta need a job to do. You liked drawing a lot so now you gonna be a tattoo artist. You made a tattoo on your cousins arm before you took your break for being pregnant.

The tattoo turned out pretty good for your fist one and your cousin was happy with it. And that’s the most important thing. Eddie thinks it so cool, he is already saying for nine months he wants his sons or now daughters name on his chest tattooed.

“you still want her name on your chest darling?” You focus on the road.

“abso-fucking-lutely.” He sound suddenly a lot more happy. It made you giggle.

“maybe I can give you it now?”

“yes! Would be amazing!” You can hear him smile from under the blanket.

“then I’m gonna” you smile also and then you park at your home in the garage. You moms car was not there but she always leaves it open. You get out and close the door of it. Now none outside can see you. You open the door for Eddie and Alice.

“safe?” He asks looking around.

“Safe.” You nod with a smile. Eddie smiles back gently and gets out of the car. The garage had a door that went straight into the hall of your house, so you two go through there.

“If you give me her you can take a shower upstairs. Make sure you don’t stand infrond of a window or anything people outside can see you.” You take Alice from him.

“okay” he nods and starts walking upstairs.

“I’ll make breakfast and close the curtains, you can come downstairs if you’re done.” You walk into the living room leaving the door open.

You hear his last little “okay”.

You walk into the living room holding Alice against your chest in one hand, with the other you get a blanket and a pillow. The you walk into the kitchen and put the blanket in the sink and also the pillow. “you can chill in hire now” you put her pacifier in her mouth with putting her down in the sink.

“mama is gonna cook some jummy breakfast for daddy and mommy” you tickle her feet. She tries to kick your hands away with her little feet, there were also coming some kind of giggles sounds out of her mouth. You smile and open the fridge, getting some strawberries and milk out of it.

Ontop of the counter lays fresh bread that your mom got probably yesterday. Then you put the bread in the over to make them warm a bit. You get two plates and put on the bread the strawberries and sugar. Next to that a bowl some cereal. For both of you one. You never made breakfast but it looked good?

You put it on the table and then you close the curtains in the kitchen and everywhere else downstairs except for the window that only sees your backyard. You turn some lights and candles on.

“smells very good baby.” Eddie hugs you from behind looking at Alice in the sink. He had just a towel around his waist.

“Me or the breakfast?” You tease him.

“ask that question again after you took a shower”he chuckles.

“youre meannn.” You turn to him and giggle a bit too. Eddie kisses your forehead and sits on a chair by the table. You get Alice on your lap and you both start eating.

———

When you both are almost finish eating Eddie puts his hand on yours. You look up at him.

“can I tell you something?” He smiles gently.

“you don’t have to ask baby.” You smile back having no idea what you can expect.

“I’ve loved you all those years we are together-“you cut him off.

“….but?” You look at him.

“No but silly. Let me finish” he giggles and kisses your cheek.

“Well.. i love you so much. And all of this means very much to me. I can’t wish for a better girlfriend. You gave birth to our kid and instead of resting to choose to help me. And I was thinking… if I get out all of this shit i ..-uh…If you want to ofcourse…then maybe I can make you a Munson..? I wanna marry you and want everyone to know you’re mine.” He looks at you nervous for your awnser.

“Really?” You smile big. And Eddie nods.

“I mean if you want we can take your last name too?” He looks still at you.

“why would i? Munson is a perfect name, and it definitely will fit me” you wink. And it made Eddie giggle.

“oh I know.”he grins. You giggle and you holds his hand.

“hire let me bring the princess to her bed” he kisses your knuckles and gets up. Alice had fallen asleep a pretty long time ago.

“I need to shower too soooo I’ll walk with you” you get up also giving Alice to Eddie.

“Alright.” Eddie kisses your head and you both walk upstairs. You walk into your room and so does Eddie.

“hire you go baby” he kisses her head and lays her in her crib carefully, then he covers her up with the blanket.

“does her socks need to get off?” He looks at you.

“no, she’ll get a cold maybe”

“babe…Its literally pring and not cold outside” he looks down at Alice again.

“just leave them on Eds” you turn back to the closet and you grab panties and a outfit. He hugs you from behind again.

“Eddie what do you have today?” You giggle and go with your fingers over his arm.

“whaaat? im just hugging my girlfriend because I love her.” He kisses your head multiple times.

“Well I love you too” you looks at Eddies side of the closet and grab boxers and a outfit.

“put it on. I can feel your boner.” You throw the stuff on your bed.

“fine fine. Not my fault, my hot chicks fault.”he chuckles.

“Im sorry baby but I’m way to tired to have sex right now..” you lean your head on his back.

“I didn’t ask you to babe. Let’s take a nap together after you took your shower. Cuddles are enough, I don’t want anything from you” his words made you smile.

———-

You put your outfit on while Eddie lays already on bed. When you finish that you get kon bed and crawl next to him. Eddie pulls the blanket over you and holds his warm hands on your belly. He put your shirt up to look at it.

“Its still so cute and big.. Awh and those stretch marks” he kisses them.

“they are literally ugly babe…” you shake your head.

“no cause our little one leaves them on you, so it’s a memory babe. I love them.”

“Yeah, okay that’s true.” He kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around you. You cuddle up to him.

“take a nap baby” he goes with his hand trough your hair and you enjoy it very much.

“feels good, keep doing that” you whisper almost falling asleep already. Eddie chuckles

“not planning to stop darling.” He whispers back.

———

“No I swear I did nothing Mr.” You open your eyes and you see your dad yelling at Eddie.

“I saw it on the goddamn news. Now get away from my daughter.” Your dad yells at him. Eddie signs and swallows.

“m sorry babe…” he looks down at you ready to get up.

You sit up quickly, “ no dad please I need him. Very much.” Eddie stops moving.

“he murdered a girl y/n.”

“he didn’t. I know it and I’ll belive him in either way!!” You scream at your dad.

“it’s okay it’s rea-“ Eddie tries to calm your down and he rubs your back.

“he has to go for you own safety. end of the discussion.”

“i gave birth to his kid. I really can use some of his help. And if you dont let me… I’ll go with him.” Your dad sighs.

“does your mother know he’s hire?” Your dad looks straight into your soul.

“no but you are never home so you both shouldn’t mind.” You sounded mad.

“Fine. I’m in the backyard.” Your dad slams the door shut. Eddie tears up and you turn to him.

“hey hey, don’t cry baby. I would never think you’re dangerous or something. I trust you and I believe the story the others told you” you hold his head against your chest.

“im so sorry..” he sobs.

“you don’t have to be darling” you go with your hands through his hair.

“but your dad is scared of me and he doesn’t trust me around your or our daughter…”

“he’s a asshole. Can I make your happy with something?”

“what.?” He wipes his tears away

“your choice. I can make you some food, or we can listen to music, smoke or maybe you even want a tattoo?”

“They all sound good, I like that tattoo the most.” Eddie grins a bit with still tears on his cheek. You wipe them off

“you have a idea what you want then?” You look at him.

“Alice her name.” He points at his chest.

“on your chest?” Eddie nods, you get up and get your stuff from under your bed. You just lay it there always. You get your notebook and sit down next to him. Eddie lays down between your arms on your chest so he can see what you’re drawing.

10 minutes later you finish your 3rd design. Eddie looks at them. And thinks about your last and first dawning.

“i thinkkkkkk…. I want the first one.” He nods.

“alright take your shirt off then.” You get your stuff. Eddie sits up and takes his shirt off, he lays down next to you and you get the gloves on. You shave the part where the tattoo comes and you so some other things before you start making the actual tattoo. Eddie is a pussy he has tears in his eyes and asks for breaks every 3 minutes and it makes you laugh.

“a metalhead having a lot tattoos but still he is a pussy.” You giggle.

“stop ittt”

“uh uh don’t talk.” You continue again. You’re almost done. The name on his chest fits him amazing.

“all done.” You wipe some inkt off and put something on it. Eddie gets up and looks in the mirror with a big smile.

“metal?” You look at his happy face.

“metal.” He nods.

to be continued…

———-

Im sorry it took a bit longer.. but I hope you enjoyed it!

hire the tagglist: @kellyxo1 @wish-upon-a-star-1310 @notsobubblybaby @amira0303 @ali-r3n@eddiesguitarskills @goth-cowgirl-03

[acewitch-writes]

Hii I have just one question re: your awesome remus meta <3

Do you per chance remember where in the book does he speak about the werewolf who bit him? And where/when do we learn it was grayback? (That's two questions actually)

I should probably reread the books before i write any ff bc im sure i dont remember how much we know about his backstory *from the books* but i dont feel like rereading the whole thing so I would greatly appreciate any pointers <333 like if you remember more or less which part of which book ill find the chapter on my own (but if not thats cool too ofc <33) loved your meta <3

Hi! Thank you so much, I'm happy there are some of us out here that appreciate canon Remus!

Remus tells Harry about Greyback in HPB chapter 16 after brooding and silently staring into the fireplace for a while. Harry asks who Greyback is when Remus tells him about his recent undercover missions within the pack living among his "equals." Here's the full dialogue quote where Remus talks about Greyback:

“Yes. My father had offended him. I did not know, for a very long time, the identity of the werewolf who had attacked me; I even felt pity for him, thinking that he had had no control, knowing by then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon, he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the werewolves. I cannot pretend that my particular brand of reasoned argument is making much headway against Greyback’s insistence that we werewolves deserve blood, that we ought to revenge ourselves on normal people.”

[plaqying]

sweetheart headcanons

sweetheart headcanons bc im relistening to milo's playlist for the hundredth time

sugar mommy/daddy/parental figure. they are definitely rich, and constantly buys stuff for the pack

raging mommy issues, but has the worlds best dad (basically the opposite of milo)

knows how to pole dance. dont even ask

enjoys horror games like mortuary assistant, silent hill and dead space, but loves games like sally face, fran bow, undertale, ddlc (they are yet to trick milo into playing this), omori and nso (idk what horror genre youd call this)

asked marie for help when they wanted to get better at healing

was 100% a fandom kid, specifically ddlc and undertale (self-projecting rn)

was a "pleasure to have in class"

is still scared of losing milo after inversion, which is why they like listening to his heartbeat cuz it reminds them that he's still there (someone commented this on the sleep aid vid and i cried)

was so happy when they met sam cuz it meant they werent the only empowered non shifter at pack meetings/solstices there

good at every single video game except minecraft. angel tried to get them to play it and they immediately fell off a cliff or something

gifted kid burnout

can only cook mac n cheese. other than that theyre almost as bad as asher

their mom was allergic to cats and they were never let near any, and got very excited when they met aggro since he was one of the first cats they had seen in a long time

always covered in cat fur

david is scared of them and they find it hilarious

the only one of the mates who actually met gabe (this is actually canon but whatever)

sometimes they'll explain empowered stuff to angel and babe, like how the department works and stuff

fully explained the covert thing asher got in trouble for to babe (they didnt explain how his name mysteriously disappeared from DUMPS list tho)

they kick absolute ass with babe playing just dance

contantly takes the piss outa milo and sams accent

really tall (same height as ash)

thats all i can think of rn, ill probably come up with more and post them separately, but i just wanted to get these idea out quickly before i forget about them

remember to not take any of this seriously, and that its all just my opinions and thoughs

luv u x

[youngestdaughtersyndrome]

Okay whats new..... im still behind on my one movie a day challenge by 12 i think. Got a tarot reading so good im dropping out of college. Found another bird that had frozen to death which takes our "birds that froze to death" count up to four. Despite the weather heating up i know for a fact that i will see another because the universe loves to show me groups of five and deaths are not excluded from that. Still disgruntled about marcus aurelius and im slowly narrowing down my reasons why. Im going to move to the middle of nowhere with my puppy in christ hopefully soon. I need to find a job and save up but it has to be online because of The Illness(es). I fucking hate being online and am on the fence about deleting the insta i made to talk to ppl when im not on here. I am more on the fence about intentionally breaking my phone so i can get a flip phone and maybe an mp3 player but that also requires money and my parents would probably only pay for the phone. Also i dont want to break my phone because thats a waste of materials and for all that social media sucks it does make life easier. Im trying to sit with better posture and my back hurts. Still getting hallucinations of his voice. Dreamt about him and did in fact fall out of bed twice, which was deeply satisfying for the smiths fan in me. Going back to the city in a few days. I need to pack.

[ayotamacheck]

(hihi, I think im gonna be asking often so i'll just sign off as -❣️ Anon from now on) anyway, for the headcanons thing can i get 💝 with any characters of your choice

omg, first regular anon!! 💕💕 tysm for the request, and ill be looking forward to hearing from you again ☺️☺️

this was super fun!! had to trim it down to 3 bachelors because the list of characters i wanted to include got wayyy too long haha. maybe ill do a pt 2 with some bachelorettes?? anyway, hope you enjoy!! 💕

💝 - love language headcanons :)

Rafael

physical affection, gifts

aaa i can't express how much i. love rafael o my god.

rafael loves physical affection in a relationship, even if it's not always outwardly romantic. everything from you offering a massage after a long day of work to a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder as he works, he's head over heels for you. this goes both ways!

he especially loves when the two of you can curl up together and read or when you stay the night to cuddle in bed. he's the type to love soft displays of affection, whether it's kisses pressed gently into your neck when you wake up in the morning or sitting in each other's arms on a quiet afternoon. though he isn't against pda, he loves stolen moments together when it's just the two of you together. he's just a big softie :)

going along with that, he loves making gifts for you! he and his brother exchange gifts for important days every year, so it's kind of been ingrained in his head to do so already. with you, it's different. he'll spend hours baking you sweets and cakes for your birthday or finding the rarest stone he can get his hands on to give as a gift. when he finally figures out some new tool or weapon upgrade, you're the very first person he brings to try it out. he just loves seeing you smile!!

Scott

words of affirmation, physical affection

tbh i did not expect how much i would grow to like this guy!! hot museum nerd, can't resist i guess

scott loves a good compliment! he's the type to get very internally self-conscious, even if he'll rarely let that show. literally praise him in any way and he's all yours :) he especially loves when you compliment his body, his work, or some aspect of his personality like his perseverance. he doesn't work out so much for nothing! being in as many unsuccessful relationships as he has in his past, he's developed a mindset that there's something about him that's ruining them. reassuring him that he's good, even with a casual "looking good today," or "im proud of you" every now and then.

going along with this, acknowledgement of his work is especially great. he's put so much of his life into his field and so much effort into preserving the island's museum, and having an s/o who will let him infodump all about whatever he finds interesting makes him melt :)

scott is very touchy when you're together! he's proud to be with you and isn't afraid to show it, aka he's definitely not shy about pda. he's happy to shower you with kisses at the drop of a hat, to take your hand in his or drape an arm around your shoulder while out together. he can't get enough of you!

Kenny

quality time, acts of service

omg husband <33

kenny!! his biggest thing is probably quality time. he loves just being around you! whether it's spending time together while he shows you how to take care of animals or introduces you to new arrivals around the ranch, listening to him play music in the early hours of the morning, or just sitting together and eating packed meals beside the river–he just wants to spend time with you.

most if not all of the dates he invites you on involve just the two of you together in a place that's important to him. he'll take you to sleep under the stars, to hike through the forest, to enjoy an afternoon by the lake, etc. even inside he's weak for comfortable evenings spent curled up together watching TV or reading together. he just wants to be able to love being with you, to enjoy your presence and the sound of your voice as you tell him about your day. that simple domesticity is all he really wants.

buuut he also like to give you more 😌 both before you get together and even more so after, he'll do whatever he thinks will make your life easier. living so close to your farm definitely helps out with that! he'll stop by with extra eggs or animal feed every now and then if he notices you're running low, he'll help collect products from the animals on your farm, he'll give you a hand watering crops, etc. he just loves to help!

he melts if you do the same for him, even if it's something as simple as stopping by on the morning to help him milk the cows. just the act of taking time out of ones routine to make the other's life even a little easier is a pure show of love to him. you'll especially notice him stopping by to help out more and more in the days leading up to him asking you out for the first time 😌