#my little cousin’s fuckin huge now

[90th1k1k0m0r1]

saw my favorite aunt and cousins today!!

[grem-archive]

do u have a brother/sibling? bc you get the na bros so correct. also STELLAR movie choices

i am an only child (the happy accident)! however, i had a lot of cousins around my age growing up that i saw pretty frequently. we treated each other like siblings more often than not. it also helps that many of those cousins had siblings, and i am the only single child in my friend group. i'm surrounded by sibling-havers whom i enjoy observing interact. i have also pestered them on occasion with questions on what it's like to have siblings so that i can try and portray sibling duos/groups accurately in writing. the relationships between siblings can be so incredibly diverse and multifaceted. it's nutty really. there are some days that i wish i'd had siblings.

and thank you! dazed and confused holds a special place in my heart for very specific reasons, but all three are beloved.

[sebastiansluts]

Dbf!Bucky makes you squirt with a controlled vibrator in the kitchen while your family and friends are outside doing a bbq, suddenly your relative walks in to the kitchen when you're still trying to catch breath and cleaning up your mess while the vibrator is still buzzing inside you

Bucky Barnes x Reader; dbf!bucky, remote controlled vibrator, semi public sex, squirting

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON’T LIKE, DON’T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

"C'mon, you can't tell me the thrill doesn't get ya goin', knowin' they're all out there while we're in here. Your parents and friends are right outside babydoll. If one of them looked through the window at just the right angle, they'd see you," Bucky taunted, standing just behind you as you tried to gather drinks together, all despite the vibrator rumbling away inside you.

You nearly dropped a glass as Bucky turned up the power, just barely setting it down before your hands grabbed the counter, white knuckling it as you held back an orgasm. He hadn't given you permission to come yet.

You knew it was fucked up, messing around with your dad's best friend, especially doing it while he and everyone else you knew were just outside. But you couldn't help but do it anyways, loving the wrongness and the thrill and the fact that Bucky was just a fucking huge, hot man. With long dark hair and icy blue eyes, bit of scruff that ached something awful between your thighs, you knew from experience.

And his body, so toned and buff, he could easily pick you up and make you do what he wanted, no matter the fact that he was well over forty now. You squirmed, the toy inside you buzzing away, pressing against your spot and making you gasp.

You glanced behind you, sticking your ass out and wiggling it enticingly. Bucky groaned and stepped forwards, grabbing your hip in one hand, the other fisting in your hair and slowly forcing you down against the counter, your ass pressing against his hard dick, making you moan as you realized he wasn't wearing underwear.

"Bucky, fuck, you're so fucking hot, please fuck me," you begged, sounding wanton, but you couldn't find it in you to care. He just laughed and pressed up into you once, making you keen before he pulled away entirely.

You panted where you lay, face against the counter, tits hanging heavy as your ass continued to stick out. Bucky upped the vibrator again and you whimpered, thighs clenching tight, your legs crossing trying to avoid coming.

"Aw, such a good girl for me, so fuckin' desperate, you'd really let me fuck ya in the kitchen during the family barbeque. Knew you were a slut, but damn babydoll, you're my fuckin' slut now. And my slut gets to come," Bucky said, turning the vibrator up two more settings.

You bit down on your lip hard to stop the squeal that escaped you, as your whole body went through a cycle of tensing and releasing, a few times, before you realized you had squirted all over the kitchen floor.

"Fuck, that's it doll, lookit you, makin' such a mess for me," Bucky groaned, turning the vibrator down a little, but not off. You glared at him as you pushed yourself up, panting and trying to catch your breath. You grabbed a towel and threw it on the floor, getting to your knees shakily, pointing your ass at him.

"Don't make me turn it back up," Bucky threatened, just as your older cousin walked in.

"Turn up what? Oh the air? Yeah, we can turn it up a bit, you do look a little flushed," your cousin said as they looked at you, walking around you to the doorway to the rest of the house. "Everyone's waiting for their drinks, better hurry up."

They left and you hurriedly cleaned the floor, Bucky finishing getting the drinks together before helping you carry them outside, finally turning off the vibrator and letting you breathe.

[its-time-to-write]

Hello! I absolutely love your work. You’re a fantastic writer. Is it possible for you to do something based a bit off of the song London Boy by Taylor Swift? If not I understand. I just feel there’s some cool way to tie it with Jamie Tartt. Sorry if it’s a bit of a generic request

ALRIGHTY gotta preface this, I actually hate this song 😂 Lyrics aren’t bad, but the like accent thing she does makes me die a little bit. BUT. I saw what you were going for (I think)! So here it is, I suffered through listening to this song bc you asked for a fic and I am nothing if not eager to please.

This is also a response to two other requests. So if that was you, ✌️😗 y’all were on the same page, congratulations. This is also my first song-based fic, although all of my works are (very, very loosely) based on songs. That’s why they have such insane titles😅 ANYWAY that’s enough talking from me. Enjoy!

i fancy you

i love my hometown as much as Motown, i love So-Cal

Richmond in London is very different from your hometown in Southern California. It’s colder, for one. And older. Things in California don’t have the same extended history as they do in England. You’re here visiting family for a couple months, although your cousins are trying to convince you to stay longer. 

“What do you really have waiting for you in California?” Holland asks.

“Uh, the beach. Sun. Great Mexican food.” you respond.

Holland isn’t buying it. “When else are you going to be able to live here? We can help you get a job and all that, not a huge problem.”

Holland is very convincing. You decide to stay for a year, single year, and see what happens.

Holland is four years older than you, and has always been the cousin you’re closest to. You’ve had a long-standing bond since being the two eldest sisters in your family. Holland takes you to clubs and introduces you to her friends, including a Miss Keeley Jones who thinks you are “abso-fuckin-lutely adorable.” 

“You have to bring her to a Richmond match, babes,” Keeley says. “Lots of fit footballers.” She winks.

You ask Keeley of she’s dating a footballer.

“Oh god no,” she shudders. “A coach.”

You don’t really see the difference.

saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent

It was a good match, even you can tell. The Richmond team played seamlessly, passing the ball back and forth without letting the other team even touch it. Their conductor of sorts, the one mediating the passes, was crazy. He never seemed to get tired, anticipating his teammates’ moves and those of the opposing team. It seemed like he was always five steps ahead of everyone. Holland notices you watching him and pokes Keeley.

“You like Jamie?” Keeley laughs. “Makes sense. Anyone with eyes likes him. He’s right fit, too. Good in bed, shit with feelings. Well, used to be. Still fucking cocky.”

That’s interesting. “You’ve been with him?” you ask.

Keeley gives you a 50/50 hand motion. “Sort of. Don’t really count it, do I? Was with him at his fucking worst. That’s why Roy fucking hates him.”

“He’s much better now,” Holland chimes in. “Something happened last season and he stopped being such a dick.”

“Holland!” you reproach, laughing. “That’s not nice!”

She and Keeley shrug. “It’s true though, innit?”

You don’t know if it is, because when you first see Jamie up close in the club later that night, he seems perfectly fine. You see a flash of a smile, a dimple, then he says something (you don’t know what) but his accent is… something else. It’s not like Holland’s, or any of your family, but you know enough to pinpoint it to Manchester. 

“The accent got you, didn’t it?” says a voice near your ear and you yelp as Holland slides her arm around your shoulder.

“Gets the best of us,” says Keeley, grabbing your hand. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

She drags you over despite your protests.

he likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, ‘darling i fancy you’

Regular dinner dates are scary, but dinner dates with a Premier League footballer are downright terrifying. 

You made Holland help you figure out what to wear, and when she showed up at your aunt’s house she had Keeley in tow.

“Heard you’re in need of a bit of a makeover,” she grins. “Lucky for you, that’s my specialty.”

Keeley and Holland have brought some of Holland’s dresses and you’re in a dark green one that “does fucking wonders for your hair, babe.”

Keeley did your makeup while Holland curled your hair and just like that, you’re ready to go.

You groan, “God, I fucking hate first dates,” while shaking out your arms. 

“It’ll be fine,” Holland promises, and she’s right.

It’s more than fine. It’s fucking fantastic.

“I like your smile,” Jamie says. “Fuckin’ American, it is.”

You laugh. “What does that even mean?”

Jamie shrugs. “It’s bigger. Brits are more reserved. Like Roy. You met Roy yet? Biggest fucking twat I ever saw,” but he says it with such affection that you’re sure he means something else.

His eyes are electric, blue and dazzling. They betray his every thought and feeling and right now you feel like if you hold his gaze any longer you’re going to say something completely stupid. 

Turns out your not the one to say something stupid; he is.

You’re walking back to his car, holding hands and swinging them in between you when he stops and says, “Darling, I fancy you.”

You grin and he returns it. He asks, “Was that British enough for you? Feel like you got the whole experience?”

“Definitely,” you say. “Was I American enough for you?”

“Dunno,” he replies, “Got to test one more thing.”

His lips are very soft on yours.

met all of his best mates, so i guess all the rumors are true

“This is Isaac, Colin, Dani, and Sam.”

Jamie is introducing you to some of his team. You’ve been dating for a month now, and your first picture together just popped up in the papers the night before.

The boys of AFC Richmond were pretty sure Jamie was seeing someone, but they didn’t know who it was. Jamie had set up this dinner thing a while ago, it just so happened that the tabloids got to you first. 

It’s not even that great a picture honestly, but you’d been around Nelson Road enough that the boys were able to recognize you. 

It’s a little unnerving to meet them, what with Isaac’s intense stare and Dani’s wide, wide smile. You’re grateful Colin and Sam are acting normal.

“We have an American coach,” Colin says in an attempt to break the ice. It does, because you’re all laughing at the absurdity of his attempt. 

“We have heard very much about you,” Dani says and you wonder if he ever stops smiling. It feels so weird and so normal to be at Jamie’s house with a pile of food and FIFA queued up on the TV, ready to go. You figure that if you’re meeting his friends, Jamie must be at least a little serious. He finds your hand and squeezes it under the table as Isaac cracks his first smile of the night. It’s weird dating a footballer, but you think you can get used to it.

babes, don’t threaten me with a good time

Jamie’s house is the largest you’ve ever been in, and it used to be strange that it was only just the two of you, clattering around that big home. 

It’s a cool night after a warm day so you both decided to lay in his backyard under the stars. 

It feels so much like something you’d do as a teenager, and you tell Jamie as much.

“Used to sneak on me mum’s roof,” he tells you. “Didn’t even do dumb shit, I’d just go to look.”

You lay there in silence for a few moments until you feel something tickle your side.

“Jamie!” you shriek.

“I didn’t do nothing!” he protests. “Must’ve been a bug.”

You don’t believe him, but you don’t push it until you feel another tickle.

“Babe!”

“Babe, it weren’t me, I swear,” he says and you really don’t believe him, especially when he tickles you again less than a minute later.

You laugh. “Fuck you, Jamie Tartt.”

He smirks. “Babe, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Hm, maybe I want a good time.”

Jamie’s grin widens and he sits up. “You know where the bedroom is, love.”

you know i love a London boy

“I don’t fucking get it,” Jamie says. You shrug. 

“I literally don’t either,” you say. Your dad leans over to Jamie. “So basically…” he begins.

He’s halfway through his explanation when Jamie pokes you. “Babe,” he says, “can we switch seats so I can hear your dad better?” You chuckle then wiggle your way into Jamie’s seat while he gets into yours.

“Why the fuck is it called ‘football’ if it’s with their hands?” Jamie asks.

Your dad shrugs. “Not a clue, son, not a clue.”

The game progresses and one of the teams scores a touchdown.

“Hold the fuck up,” Jamie says. “Why did their score change that much?”

“I know this one!” you exclaim. “Different types of goals get different points. And there’s something called a lateral which has to do with moving backward I think?”

You dad just shakes his head with a grin and doesn’t attempt to clarify. 

Your dad spends the second half explaining everything to a very focused Jamie, and he asks questions the entire car ride home. It’s funny have Jamie here in America, staying at your parents house and seeing where you grew up. 

When you’re finally back home and in bed, you pull him as close as you can and whisper, “I love you very, very much. You know that, right?”

You can feel Jamie smile against your hair. “I love you too, very fucking much.”

[legacyshenanigans]

Alright, long-winded and random, but do you guys wanna know about the wild dream I had? And I have dreams like this regularly, I don't know what that says about me, but yeah 🤣 here we go..

The dream was in segments for some reason, where I like fell into different areas randomly.

Segment 1:

I was in an office building, there was just a bunch of people in suits working on computers, but the office building was like a HUGE log cabin in the middle of a city, and I remember thinking IN my dream "this is so out of place" 🤣

Anyway, some woman wanders over to me with a giant bag filled with cutlery and she says "You have to go and set the table for lunch time" and I said in my dream "I dont work here" and she was like "It doesn't matter, just go and do it" so I took the bag and went into this room where there was the BIGGEST table I've ever seen, and I only had 10 minutes to set up all the cutlery on this table ready for the lunch hour, and for some reason one of my cousins who havnt seen for like 15 years showed up and started talking to me and I was like "Listen, I need to get this done stop talking to me" and he KEPT talking to me and in the end I lost my rag and I was like "If you're gonna stand there distracting me, atleast fucking help me!!" And then I fell through the floor into segment 2 of the dream.

Segment 2:

I was at a big house, and there was a pond in the back garden. One of my uncles wife's dad's was there (no idea why ive met him twice lmao) and he was telling me that there was way too many frogs in this pond and that it was really bothering him, because they're so loud and they're always splashing around in the water. He also told me there was a particular frog that looked really weird and it was like the leader of all the other frogs, and he told me to try and get rid of some of them, and gave me a net and a huge bag to put all the frogs in. Anyway, so there I am, scooping frogs and putting them in this bag, but they're all jumping out all over the fuckin place and it's total chaos. And then I see this "Leader" frog. It's bigger than the others, so I thought if I could get the leader in the bag and make it STAY in the bag, the others would follow, so I'm wading in the pond trying to catch this big frog, and I finally catch it and it starts fuckin snarling at me and trying to bite me, and I'm screaming for help, thrashing around, fighting this frog in this random ass pond, and then I suddenly went underwater, then popped up in segment 3 of the dream.

Segment 3:

I was sat on a sofa in a living room, and there was a little ginger dog next to me, staring at me. And then one of my uncles walked into the room and was like "are you ready to go?" And I was like "where?" And he said "We'll take the dogs for a walk" and I said "Dogs plural?" Because far as I knew there was only the one dog, the little ginger one that was next to me, and I looked back at the dog and there was now 4 of them all sat there looking at me. So we take them for a walk, and we're walking along the beach in the next town over to where I live now, and my uncle says "Had any weird dreams lately?" And I said "Yeah I'm having one right now, actually" and laughed, and my uncle looks at me confused and says "What do you mean?" And then I get confused and say "Well this is a dream, isn't it? I'm dreaming, like right now? None of this is real?" And my uncle stops and looks at me like I'm a fuckin monster or something, he looks terrified and his face started stretching out and going all fuckin weird and he starts screaming and his scream was getting louder and louder and the dogs turned to Ash like Thanos just did the snap or some shit. And the sand and sea on the beach went all black and fuzzy and then I woke up.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my talk. 🤣

If anyone is a big dream freak, lemme know what all this means? 🤣🤣🤣🤣

[billkaulitzwife]

More Stupid Shit My Friends and I Have Said Feat. The Outsiders

Ponyboy

"Are you seriously on fucking Tomodachi life rn."

"What's your tit size? I MEANT KITTEN BITE. I MEANT WHAT DOES YOUR KITTEN BITE."

"If I had a nickel for every time I got confused I'd be a fucking millionaire."

Sodapop

"I'm mad at you now. I was watching a Livestream of a bird eating and I had to click on your notification."

"I don't own the cat. The cat owns me"

"I love fruit. Why? My boyfriends a fucking fruitbowl, c'mon now."

Darry

"Shit I burnt the grilled cheese." *Goes outside and throws it at a squirrel* "Eat it or I'll kill you."

"What the fuck do you mean Johnny's getting married to Elvis??"

"I've never had a soda so when my mom brings soda home we all worry."

"You caused a Chain reaction. You got suspended last week then Pony tells me 10 girls got suspended today."

Addie

"I tried to quit smoking. Yeah didn't last long."

"What animal are Teletubbies?"

"They call me grilled cheese cuz I make a mean one."

Dallas

"They call you queen bee cuz u been fuckin all of 'em."

"Next time I see Cherry Valance I'm throwing a box of cherries at her. Bitch."

"What animal is Mickey Mouse?"

Johnny

"How the fuck do people on Discord have my Snapchat, too."

"If I had a nickel for everytime I worried you guys I'd be in California."

"Guys I'm almost 17 :)"

Two-Bit

"Nuh-uh."

"I guess you could say that I am... a little silly in the morning."

*Talking to Steve while high* "Did you see how high Addie was this morning at school?"

"If I had a Nickel."

Steve

"I had a grilled cheese for breakfast."

"I'm not gay but my boyfriend is."

"If I had a Nickel for everytime I had something on my face I'd be on a yacht right now instead of staring at y'all's ugly bitch asses."

-_-_-_-_-_-

Addie: I know how to shoot a shotgun.

Darry: HOW?

Steve and Dallas, in the corner: 😳

-_-_-_-_-_-

Steve: That grilled cheese was good. Thanks Ads.

Addie: I made one and you live a mile away.

-_-_-_-_-_-

*Dallas and his mom in an argument*

His Gramma: *Sends a weird Facebook meme.*

Dallas: 🤓

-_-_-_-_-_-

Dallas: I remember when I used to sit on Santa's lap.

Johnny: Just like when some adult man made me sit on his!

Everyone else: 😥

-_-_-_-_-_-

Steve: Hey, hun did you check on the kids?

Sodapop: Hey, twins, Johnny, dinner's almost ready.

-_-_-_-_-_-

Darry: Top four animals

Addie: Kittens, frogs, turtles... Beluga.

Two-Bit: Birds-

Addie: BIRDSSSSSS OH MY GOD HOWD I FORGE-

-_-_-_-_-_-

Steve: I want a toasted cheese sandwich.

Pony: A fucking grilled cheese?

-_-_-_-_-_-

*Curtises hanging with their cousins*

The ginger cousin: I need to know what animal I would be and why.

Sodapop: LEPRECHAUN

Pony: A whale.

Cousin: HEY

-_-_-_-_-_-

Darry Curtis (active 4 hours ago): Phones on the tabke when you get home.

Ponyboy McLovin Curtis (Active Now): WHAT DID I DO

addie curtis (Active Now): are you serious.

Coca-Cola (Active Now): what happened

Darry Curtis (Active Now): None of you. Dallas and Steve.

Daddy dallas winston(Active.): is it cuz I took addie out to dinner or because we went to the shooting range after

Stevie (Active): I wasnt thwre i promise

Darry Curtis: what is this then *sends a picture of addie and dallas holding guns like bonnie and clyde while Steve is in the middle smiling huge*

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

guys i made a grilled cheese for the first time so These are mostly shit ive said. also ive found tumblr to actually be a safe space so idk.

[garbinge]

Prank Wars

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Day 24 from these April Prompts: “Wholesome Pranks”

Summary: Prank Wars at the scrapyard!

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Angsty, Pranks, Cursing. Mentions of dead parents and family struggling with sickness and addiction. 

A/N: okay, so huge shoutout to Tay because she planted this fun little seed in my head for this fic!! 

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc​ @justreblogginfics​ @narcolini​ @danzer8705

It had been a few years since you started working at the scrapyard, it wasn’t a luxurious job but it was one that not only paid the bills but gave you some extra in your pockets. Angel had hooked you up with the job when he saw you were struggling. Home wasn’t exactly a home, your parents weren’t alive anymore, hadn’t been since you were younger. It left you to live with your grandmother who hadn’t just taken you in but also your aunt and cousins. It was an overcrowded and overwhelming house and it sat 5 doors down from the Reyes house. It wasn’t instant but somewhere down the line as the years passed you became close with the eldest Reyes brother just doors down from you and now, as adults, he was your best friend. 

Angel originally had gotten you a job as barback at the clubhouse, and you were grateful for it. It saved you up enough money to get out of your grandma’s house and into your own space. Something small, or cozy as you called it, but your own. You had eventually worked your way into the scrapyard because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Overhearing Bishop and Taza talk about numbers and manufacturer meetings and how business wasn’t doing too great as you served them beer was the first step into it. You offered your two cents on how to boost business, that turned into giving some occasional business advice. You had gotten an associates degree in business, opportunity was just lacking in Santo Padre. Eventually, you started pulling in buyers, which led you to where you were now. You had taken the scrapyard truck out to a potential buy, but were driving back with a loss. It had already started out as a rough morning and it was just getting rougher. 

It was days like this that you forgot about the multi-year long prank war that you had going with the guys in the club. It was something you and Angel had started prior to you getting close with the club and once it became known across the club, there was no way Gilly and Coco weren’t going to be apart of it. Now, the prank war wasn’t something front of the brain 24/7, that was the secret behind making it successful all these years. It was random. It was calculated but spontaneous all at the same time. 

You whipped open the door to the scrapyard office, it made Angel jump, a scene that would have brought you to laughter any other day but you ignored currently. 

“What the fucks got you twisted?” Angel was now standing, his sleeveless Romero Bros. work shirt covered in dirt and rust. 

“California fuckin’ Steel company. That’s who.” You threw your bag on the desk and placed your hands on your head in an act of stress. 

“Okaaaay,” Angel frowned and stepped out from behind the desk so he was standing to your right. “They’re always on some fuck shit, what’s really your issue?” He saw right through you, a perk and downfall of him knowing you so well. 

You took a deep breath and turned to look up at him as he towered over you. You saw the cuphead patch on his shirt and smirked. “You put the patch I gave you on.” 

Cuphead was a memory you two shared, sitting after school in front of the TV in the Reyes’ living room and playing until Marisol called out for dinnertime or Felipe unplugged the xBox to watch baseball. 

Angel looked down at his shirt and back at you, “Yea, I couldn’t put that shit on my kutte, I’d never hear the end of it.” 

You laughed and shook your head, when you gave him the patch you expected it to sit leaning on the outside of a picture frame in his house, not on any of his clothing items. 

“My grandma’s sick and my cousin, he’s fuckin’ on hooked on that shit again. It’s got him stealing and not just shit around the house but taking my grandma’s pills now.” 

“Fuck.” Angel whispered under his breath and looked away for a second before he was looking back down at you again. 

“It’s fine, I talked to my aunt, they’re looking to put my grandma into a home or something.” You rolled your eyes and let out a sigh.

“That’s bullshit, your grandma’s lived in that house practically her whole life they should send your junkie ass cousin away.” He was getting loud. 

“It’s out of my hands Angel,” You lifted your hands up in innocence “I offered for her to come stay at my place instead, but you know my aunt, she’s” you shook your hand in a way that was meant to describe your aunt as you turned around to look for your car keys. “You get a chance to look at my car yet?” 

After your third time having trouble starting your car, you had asked Angel if he could look at it, it wasn’t the same as giving it to a mechanic but Angel knew a thing or two about mechanics since having his bike. 

“Oh,” Angel went deep into thought, “uh, no.” He reached down and snatched the keys as you went to grab them yourself. 

You looked at him confused. 

“I’ve been up to my fuckin’ eyeballs in paperwork that I barely understand.” He pointed to the stack of manila folders on the table. “Haven’t had a chance to look at it.” 

“Oh alright, well, I’ll take the paperwork. Least I can do so you can fix my shit and save me the 200 bucks. I’ll be in the clubhouse if you need me.” 

“Aight.” Angel let his shoulders slump once you were out of the office. Gilly and Coco making their way into the office now. 

“Yo, you fuck with the wiper fluid and put that fake broken glass shit on her car?” Gilly chuckled as he walked in. 

“I’m bout to go take that shit out.” Angel sounded on edge. 

“The fuck for?” Coco asked, confused since he had thought it was a genius prank. 

“She’s got a lot going on man, it just ain’t the right time.” Angel was making his way out to reverse the pranks he had done to your car. 

“We gotta get them both.” Gilly said with a smirk once Angel was out of earshot. 

“Fuck yea we do.” Coco said, bringing a cigarette up to his mouth. 

_____

Angel calling out your name caused you to turn around. As you did, you realized the clubhouse had filled up since you had posted up to work in here. A few of the club guys and some hang arounds filling the tables surrounding you. 

“I fixed your car, needed a new battery. Nothing serious. Got one from Walmart.” Angel was making his way over to you and as he reached the seat next to you, he pulled the chair out and made himself comfortable before sliding the keys over to you. 

“Thanks, how much was it? I’ll send you the money.” You pulled your phone out. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Just have me over for dinner or some shit soon.” He smirked hoping it’d earn a smile from you as well. 

It did. You smiled and grabbed your keys from the table. 

“You know,” Angel started his sentence without a single thought about where it was really headed, not sure how to say the next few words. “Uh,” he leaned forward, clearly uncomfortable. 

“Spit it out, Angel.” You were now leaning forward too, placing your hand on Angel’s knee in hopes to get him to say whatever he was trying to. 

It did the opposite, it choked him up more until he finally just said it. “I was thinkin’, you could come stay with me if you wanted.” 

Your face twisted in muddled confusion which caused Angel to panic. “Nah I just mean, you know, your grandma might be comin’ to your place and I know you worked mad hard to get your whole bach pad situation and appreciate your alone time so I figured I’d offer my place up,” he said before practically cutting himself off to keep going. “And I know it wouldn’t be living alone but I’m usually always here anyways so you’d have the place to yourself way more than if you stayed with your grandma. I just figured it’d be worth the offer with everything going on–”

You cut Angel off as you lifted off your seat and wrapped your arms around him tightly. His seat pushed back a little from the force of your embrace, he sat there frozen for a second before he let his hands rest on your back. 

“Thank you.” You whispered as you hugged him tightly. A few whistles from the guys filled the air, a couple howls too as you embraced your best friend. It wasn’t shocking, it was a normal occurrence, everyone was in on you and Angel’s connection except the two of you. 

Before you had a chance to make a comment back to them, the clubhouse doors were busting open and Coco and Gilly were entering inside with water guns pointed directly at you and Angel. 

“Get wrecked motherfuckers!!!!!” Gilly screamed as the water gun pressured out gallons of water each time he pumped the gun. 

Out of instinct, Angel grabbed you around your waist as you two toppled behind the table in an attempt to block yourselves from their range. You let out a belly laugh as your backs leaned against the underneath of the table that was turned to its side. Angel looked over at you his frown turning into a smile. 

“We are so going to get them back for this.” 

Angel laughed at that. “In the 6 years we’ve been doing prank wars you never paired up with me once.” 

As you opened your mouth to answer you were hit immediately with a splash of water on your face. Quickly grabbing Angel’s hand you were up and running out of the club house. It was then that you realized Bishop and a few of the other guys were yelling at Coco and Gilly to knock it off but you kept a one track mind and just pulled Angel out to the yard with you. 

You kept moving until you were well into the scrapyard and you knew Coco and Gilly were probably being ripped a new one by Bishop so there wasn’t a chance they’d be able to get you out here. 

“Holy shit.” You laughed and looked up at Angel who was soaked from head to toe. “You’re drenched.” 

“Looks like we match.” Angel pointed to you with the hand that wasn’t still intertwined with yours. 

Your eyes looked down to see the water dripping off the hem of your work shirt and pooling to your feet in the sand/dirt medley on the scrapyard ground. 

“C’mon. We got some extra work shirts laying around, let’s get you one so you don’t have to ride home soaked.” 

“Your home.” You corrected him. His head snapped to you. “Think I might take you up on that offer.” 

Angel didn’t want to change your mind so he just nodded while saying nothing except that he’d get a key made for you. 

____

You ran a towel over your hair and were now changed into something dry for the most part as you got into your car. Your driver side window rolled down as Angel stood a few yards from you a lot less drenched than before but still sporting wet hair, his normal styled hair was sobbing wet and falling around his forehead. Gilly and Coco were on the porch of the clubhouse and you offered them both a smile and middle finger before starting to back up. 

“Thanks for fixing my car!” You went to beep the horn as a thanks when you heard the flag raise sound from the Cuphead game leave your horn. The high pitch glissando of someone sliding across the keys and the announcement of cuphead filling the air. 

Your jaw dropped and turned to Angel very slowly. His eyes were wide and he was immediately yelling out to you. 

“I thought I changed everything back!” 

You continued to back out and as you put the car in drive you said one last thing to Angel before leaving. 

“Oh it’s on, Reyes.”

[viothesilly]

ok ok i said i'd make an actual post about this instead of rambling in the tags.

expect a lot of topic-hopping, but i'll try to at least stay in the topic of bugs and how i've been feeling about them.

so, as i was saying, i've had a few factors contributing to helping me be less scared of bugs. yippee!

the things that particularly come to mind are having friends who love bugs, flick from animal crossing, amber sugar cookie from cookie run, a webtoon called bugtopia, and finding bugs (other than lepidopterans) that i adore.

which is a very good thing!

i can mostly go outside without panicking, although i think there's at least one wasp nest outside my house, so i still get scared, especially if i actually see a wasp.

wasps are like bees but extra scary. bees aren't really scary now that i've learned more about them. like, i actually really like them now, but not enough to get too close comfortably.

i've always loved lepidopterans, although i've had a slight preference for moths. butterflies are fuckin awesome, though. :D

some of my favorites are atlas moths and glasswing butterflies!

anyway, i recently found a type of arachnid that i absolutely adore, which is something that has surprised me quite a bit, given that my fear is especially strong when it comes to arachnids!

they're called amblypygis, and they're super cute, although most people probably find them terrifying. i think they're also pretty much completely harmless.

anyway. i THINK the root of my (very much unhealthy) fear of most bugs started when i was really little. i think i was, what, 4 or so? maybe younger?

i was in the backyard with one of my cousins (if i'm ever talking about a cousin, they're younger than me, because i'm unfortunately the oldest) and we saw an innocent little bee. i think we were bothering the bee unintentionally, and it ended up stinging me. and i REALLY didn't want to have it happen again. i still don't. so it resulted in me avoiding almost all bugs.

caterpillars and inchworms and such have always been okay. little bug noodles. i've always liked when they decide to crawl on me while i'm outside.

i actually let one of those suuuuper tiny flies crawl around on me for a bit earlier today, and i tried to leave my room to go downstairs and take it outside, but it flew away when i opened my bedroom door, and now i'm not sure where it is.

while camping a few years ago, me and one of my cousins (not the same cousin as before) found a MASSIVE stick bug, and we named them sticky. sticky was AWESOME. i unfortunately didn't get any good pictures of sticky. but sticky was at least a couple inches long. more than that, actually. they were pretty damn huge according to grandma, and grandma has probably seen a ton of them, given that grandpa and her go to tons of state parks and go camping all the time. eventually, we had to put sticky on a tree after letting them (willingly for both me and sticky) crawl around on me for a little while. i hope sticky lived a happy life!

one last thing, i promise it'll be shorter this time. recently, a butterfly (i think it was a red admiral!) decided to sit on the window outside. it was really really cool to see a butterfly up close like that. the wing patterns were gorgeous and very much visible from the way they were sitting. the colors were lovely. now that i think about it, the butterfly was definitely a red admiral. super cool experience. unfortunately they flew away right as we were trying to take a picture.

i, uh, forgot what i was gonna say in relation to the topic of me slowly becoming more comfortable with bugs-

so.. i guess this is the end of my ramble. unless you want more. let me know if you want more. okay. uh. bye now! ^^

[longeyelashedtragedy]

For the wip ask game

10022? I have no idea what it could be

yes! 10022 is a fic i have that is just...tons of little sections that i have no idea how to make into a "plot." i almost think it...won't have a plot? just a series of vignettes in chronological order. it's a fic about someone finally risking it all, or trying to, in order to discover themselves a little, and that's an ongoing process so it kind of doesn't naturally have plot?

that someone is of course frank, and this fic is about his season living in new york and playing with NYCFC. this is my favorite player era of his for a lot of reasons. i actually don't know where you're from so i'll assume you're not from the US just for this purpose (i'm really sorry if i assumed wrong!!) 10022 is the zip code (postal code) for the neighborhood where frank lived in manhattan--midtown east. it's weirdly a neighborhood that i like a lot, and i'm generally no longer a fan of manhattan and now that i don't work there i try to Avoid it--it's just very very noisy and crowded and too many of the worthwhile stores and restaurants that i loved have shut down post-covid or bc of stupid high rents. but this neigborhood is an interesting mix of Huge Buildings, some touristy places, and then as you walk east toward the river it becomes sort of...insular? like just residential buildings with stores geared toward the local population. most of the neighborhood doesn't have very convenient public transit access, so if you walk a couple blocks in you feel kind of cut off from everything else. it suits frank well i think.

wow, i still haven't said what this fuckin fic is about lol. my theory is that in new york he was alone for the first time in his life--no dad to harass him, and while i think christine visited plenty (i mean, london-new york is one of the easiest international flights around, and she certainly could afford it), she does live tv so it wasn't like she could work from home. so frank had all this time to 1) be the Elder Good Example (37 years old) to a team just starting out with a bunch of Young Lads, and 2) to try to be brave enough to explore the sexuality he's known he's had for decades. as part of the fic, he nervously looks up gay bars and ventures off to pick up men, and they're certainly very interested, but he always chickens out at the last minute. i think he's afraid in general, and also the guys aren't...cousin jamie.

something else that makes me want to write this is the way frank talks about living in NYC--he truly loved it here, and a lot of his favorite places/restaurants were not rich people/tourist traps (also one of them is literally down the block from me, lol) and i find that very touching. i appreciate his appreciation for this pain in the ass hometown of mine. i also really think he enjoyed the relative anonymity and the attitude toward things, as part of his Gay Explorations:

If home is the place where you can relax and take the pressure off, then New York City is already home.  The only expectations of him here are professional ones. He can do those things, or try his best to. He can move the ball down the pitch, intimidate the opponent, smash the ball into the net the way it was drilled into him decades ago, score some confident penalties, and mentor the young lads (in football, anyway--regardless of what José has said, he's the last person who should be teaching anyone how to be a Man.) and if he can't do all that, at 36, then he'll know he gave it a good try, and the fans in royal blue will still love him all over the world.  But personally? He's alone as long as nobody is visiting, and being alone in New York will be different from London. He's looked it up. London is the slightly bigger city, in terms of the population, but New York has a firm culture of mind your own damn business and you better not be staring at me and if you saw something no you didn't.  Anything could happen.  If no one saw something you could do anything, really.

getting to write something in a place i'm very familiar with is really fun--i can load it up with authentic details, including stuff that was going on in the social backdrop of the city, weird weather, etc. (though, MLS seasons work differently than a lot of the big european league seasons because of the very cold winters we (used to) have in a lot of the country, so i got confused by dates/timing as usual and kinda gave winter 2016 some of our weird winter 2015's attributes...oh well literally no one will know)

sorry this was a lot to say very little. this fic is really fun to write but i just kind of work on it at random bc there's no plot, haha. i have a scene i kinda recently started working on where frank takes young english lad jack harrison to this diner down the block from his house, but it's not a date! not a date at all! look frank's got his wedding ring on!

here is another excerpt hahah

[colleenmurphy]

"Y'know my mother was right about you....you're fuckin' crazy, Colleen."

One minute they were in a dingy little apartment on Delancey street then he blinked it and they were in Central Park. Rent checks with Colleen for her mother was always interesting. Minnie McGuire was never one to The fact that Colleen Murphy, the tall girl with long dark hair and pretty green eyes. She'd been quiet until she'd gotten to know him. Knowing him, meaning she pegged him with her softball between the shoulders after school one day in the fifth grade when he'd made the mistake of calling her cousin Stevie a shrimp.

"You called him a stuttering shrimp and you know you deserved it for sayin' it."

She'd admitted years later to him as they walked around the park. Of the three stops they'd made she'd gotten her mother's rent money every damn time. Maybe it was because she was a good judge of character. Some got the nice 'here lemme talk to Ma about another two weeks since your sister's sick' Colleen whilst others, like Mr Frank Flannery, got the 'you have until 3:00 to have my mother's money or I'm busting your other hand.' to which she commenced to take a meat mallet to the guy that almost broke Eddie's nose in high school.

"You fuckin' love me and wouldn't want it any other way, Spina."

After that fateful day in the park she had accepted him into the fold of her various collection of misfits from their neighborhood of Red Hook. She was insanely tight with the Starling girl who lived next door. He remembered Mr. Starling buying bread from his Grandfather's bakery and cuts of meat from his father. Eddie came from a huge family next-door to the McGuires so he always had a straggler or two of his own who Colleen welcomed with open arms. A theme she'd keep going as they grew up. He showed her how to let her hair down and not get caught sneaking out when they were teens. She taught him the correct way to pray for others and how to make the best grilled cheese. She gave him roots and he gave her wings and together they sailed along. She was raised in the quiet home of her mother and grandmother, Granny McGuire owned the local candy shop down the block from the bakery and always had something for the kids that walked by. Col's mother was a bookkeeper for many local businesses as well as a defecto back room betting parlor owner. OTB bets were usually taken at cab stands dotting the city but why go all the way when you could just go to McGuire's Sweet Shop on the corner? Where as he had been the eldest and the ringleader of chaos at his place only steps away, his mother stayed home his father worked the butcher shop during the week and on Saturdays he'd work at the bakery.

She'd been the one to teach his younger sister, Theresa how to throw a punch. Theresa was banned from the local Brownie troop and from Kelly Matsek was always dragged clear across the street if Theresa was spotted for fear of popping Kelly in the face again, a trend that would only stop once both girls were adults and Kelly asked Theresa to be a bridesmaid for her. Eddie and Colleen had been married since she turned 20 and he was 22. Christopher Edward Michael Spina was born eight months to the day of their wedding. They were now living in his parents old place on Huntington after his mother relocated to the much warmer climates of Florida after they celebrated their second anniversary. They were now officially ten years and three kids into the long haul and were still happy as well. He had learned that he indeed wouldn't want it any other way. The fact that she paints her toes the most vibrant shade of red or that she takes her coffee with an ungodly amount of sugar. She's the only one that can settle any one of their kids with a word or two and she was still the only person he'd want to have his back in a bar fight.

Ducking around the Alice statue she made a mad sprint for best friend Helene and the swathed bundle she held. He watched as his wife went from bone breaking bad ass to a cooing gooey mess over her best friend's baby.

"Eddie isn't she precious?!"

'That means she wants another one...maybe you do too..."

"The most."

'Yeah...you do...and this time it's her turn to the pick the name. Maybe show her your list this time.'

[ghastspidergwen]

:3

As you know, I like jeeps, and I also like trucks, and unfortunately or rather fortunately that lead me down the rabbit hole of jeep trucks

But I'm not here to talk about the Comanche (MJs), the old SJ (or J series) gladiators, or my beloved CJ-8 scrambler.

I'm here to talk about the 10 ton trucks :]

These guys:

Now I'm still not entirely sure how it's name was coined as I'm like 90% it's a classification instead of being the name of a singular truck, with these trucks being more like tractors than modern day trucks (besides big rigs) and the trucks also weighed a lot more than 10 tons

(It's name is even weirder when you consider that it's cousin the five quarter ton was named that due to it's payload rating)

The trucks I know the most about are the M123A1C Truck Tractor and the M125 which had a massive V8 (785 cu in or 12.9L) with about 300hp and a torque of around around 6300 pound per inch if my math is right.

These guys were known for hauling tank and artillery parts :]

This one is hauling some construction equipment!

Now more is known about the M123 but from my understanding they were essentially the same truck but with slightly different purposes and slight improvements

All in all a very impressive truck, but it gets better! Now this beauty is a little more than 9ft wide, about 23ft long, and a whopping 9ft with a few inches height wise with some 14x24 tires (about 53 inches or just below 4 and a half feet).

Now earlier I mentioned that the ten ton truck classification was a little misleading, this beauty was actually about 32.5k lbs or roughly 16 tons on its own without any cargo, but with cargo (depending on if you were on or off road) it was 60,000 lbs off road and 65,000 lbs on road at a speed of just over 40mph.

:]

Now the really interesting part was how it's engine worked, I already talked a little bit about it's specs but not the really fun stuff.

It had steering brakes! That meant you could choose what side of the rig you wanted to apply the breaks to! Very useful for turning in bad conditions and surviving spin outs.

It also had Williams Air Brakes! Which blocked a part of the exhaust pipe, which is normally a bad thing but since it was an insanely heavy truck and a stick shift, you needed the engine to slow down so that you could easily shift into a different gear.

The transmission itself weighed about 1,500 lbs and was a stick shift 5 speed and what made it extra interesting was that it has 2 lube systems instead of the typical one you see in any other rig, unfortunately it's transmission system despite being really interesting kinda sucked and had a major leaking issue and it's weird plumbing/wiring didn't really help it at all.

Sadly due to these things being fuckin huge and also made in the 50s and only sold to the US military, there's barely any of em around anymore and you're not going to see any on the roads

Id probably rank this as my favorite big rig but my favorite truck still has to be my beloved CJ-8<3

Thank you for letting me ramble<3

this is exciting what I asked for, thank you very much!

[carmenized-onions]

Ad Interim. | No Service

logline; The days and doubts and desires; the air, underneath the shoe.

[!!!] series history, this is the ninth; the amount of links are getting nauseating just go to the landing LMAO.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. I listen to this playlist too much in my day to day now, fr.

portion; 3k+

possible allergies; you're almost ten chapters in, you know very well by now that these two are rife with anxiety and insecurity.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (gets she/her'd mb)

fun fact: i finished this one 19 hours after the last chapter, whoops, but let it sit in my drafts to give some breathing room and do some rework

It is t-minus three days, until the worst Friday of your life.

But today’s Tuesday, and though you feel a touch uneasy, you figure it’s probably just the breakfast from yesterday at La Mattina settling in your stomach— Or, at least, hope it is.

You’re at home, sitting on your couch, pensive, haggard, leaned over. Elbows to knees, prayer hands to face, staring at your phone on the coffee table in front of you.

Just send it. Just send the text. Don’t be a fucking wuss. You’ve re-written it in your notes app like five fucking times— He does not care this much, he doesn’t even have basic reading comprehension— Okay, that’s mean— But it’s just not that deep. Just fucking! Send it!

Actually no, no, upon sixth review, the paragraph you had written out was way too intense, way too presumptive. Backspace, backspace, backspace—Just say hi. Let’s just start with Hi.

‘Yooooooooo’

Are you fucking possessed? Good Lord. How is he already typing he never used to reply this fast, what the fuck—

‘Are u fucking haunted?’

‘Fuck is yooooooo’

‘Yooo to you too, cousin’

Faster texter now, but Richie is still the same guy, at the end of the day.

‘this is a loaded fucking question’

‘but do you think you’ll be free any time this week?’

‘not unless ur dead or dying’

‘are you dead or dying?’

‘not that I’ve heard’

‘but I was thinking maybe we could like, get food or smth’

‘chat one on one. Been a minute, yknow’

That was too much. You didn’t need to do all that. Now he’s gonna go well who’s fault is that? And it’s yours. You know it’s yours. And then you’re gonna have that fucking conversation— Which is what this whole meet up thing was supposed to be about in the first place—

‘heard’

‘can’t get time off but fak needs to have his training wheels ripped’

‘could have dinner at the bear this week? Like 2 hours. Then I can watch him and keep him from shitting the bed’

‘and still get to do a fucking one on one, you corporate speak ass’

‘I didn’t know how else to fucking say it alright!!!!!!’

‘Dinner @ bear sounds good to me’

‘but probably ask carm/syd first if it’s cool’

‘yea yea I’ll fuckin check in with daddy don’t worry’

‘that sucked for me. That sucked to read. Go to jail.’

‘already have.’

‘I’ll let u know a time when I know. See u chip’

You heart it. The classic signal that it’s the end of a conversation. Holy shit. You did it. You actually texted someone that you miss that you miss them— Not directly, but you know Rich knows. And specifically, to book a dinner, to talk about what happened, to apologize for it. That’s pretty fucking huge. Which means—

It’s time to eat a whole freezer cake and lay in your pyjamas all day and interact with not a single soul on this entire planet. You’re absolutely at your social limit, for the day. Maybe you’ll talk it through with Mikey, actually. To the air, more accurately, but, y’know, same thing.

You’re gonna get dinner with Richie. You’re gonna get dinner, with Richie, this Friday. And it’s not gonna be awkward or weird, at all.

It is t-minus two days, until the worst Friday of Carmen’s life, so far, at least. There’s always next year.

But today’s Wednesday, and though he feels a little nerve-wracked, he’s pretty sure it’s just because the kitchen was so fucking dysfunctional this morning, and now that their prep’s off, the tempo of the whole fucking day is off, and they're behind on two tables. And fucking seriously this time, can someone get him a fucking marker that fucking works.

Okay, maybe it’s a little more, than nerve wracked.

Sydney is ever the intuitive, and always correct, at the station next to him— Because yes, they’re still down a hire since the meth guy, so now Carmen is on line.

She can tell, that somethings wrong with him, something’s always wrong with him. “Take your ten, Chef.”

Carmen shakes his head, obviously, there’s still prep to catch up on. And if he doesn't do it, it's not gonna get done, and even if it does get done, it's not gonna get done right. He’s pressing the dead sharpie down on the tape, like if he just brute forces it, it’ll start to work. “M’good, Chef.”

“Carmen.” She turns to him fully, stopping her work. And so, he does too. “Take your fucking ten.” She deadpans, she’s not taking no for an answer. She rubs her fist over her heart.

Carmen takes a beat, before nodding, doing the same. “Heard, Chef.”

He needs to look over expense reports that he can’t quite comprehend, anyways.

He really needs his sister. He steps into his office. Despite the fact that they re-constructed just about everything in the restaurant, this musty office remains the same. Untouched. After caving down walls, they had to cut the budget somewhere. He’s glad though, that it's untouched. It might be crowded, poorly organized, have an off smell (probably because of the birth in here, just a few weeks back), but it’s exactly as his brother left it, and that helps him feel… Connected, somehow.

What the hell is Var vs Budget? He’s googling every other word, here. He’s more than grateful, that before going home on mat leave, Sug set up a good enough automated Excel sheet that he could just plug in numbers and it did all the calculating for him. Doesn’t mean he knows what any of the numbers mean, but, they’re there.

He knows that red equals bad. Natalie told him that very specifically. Which did seem like she was calling him fucking stupid, but he let it go. There’s a lot of red. That’s a lot of bad. Well, not a lot, but like, a third of this is red. That’s probably more than it should be. How many months do they have again? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He is never gonna get to pay himself, he’s never gonna be able to pay Syd, he's never gonna get her a star, she’s gonna live with her dad for the rest of her life, you are never gonna get to work here, you’re gonna work as a bottle girl for the rest of your life, he’s never gonna get his shit together so he’s never gonna get to call you his, he’s gonna have to hand the deed to Cicero and then fucking everyone is gonna to lose their jobs and he’s still gonna be him. He’s still gonna be him. Carmy Berzatto, the chef that lost everything, little brother to everyone's hero who blew his brains out. Starless in Chicago, unable to feel anything more than sorry for himself. Carmen’s gonna die as Carmen, and nothing more. At the end of the day.

Take a deep breath, Bear. Relax.

He’s catastrophizing. You told him that. He forgot to look into it. He googles that, instead of another business term he doesn’t understand.

‘Fixates on the worst possible outcome and treats it as likely, even when it is not.’

Well, it does seem pretty fucking likely that he’s doomed to fail and fall into a Sisyphean nightmare of opening restaurants and falling on his fucking face, dragging everyone he loves down with him with his stupid failed pipe dreams. He's no better than his brother.

He tries his best to think of whatever level-headed bullshit you'd give to him, right now, tries to taste the hot chocolate, the lavender and cardamom coffee. He smells your shampoo, in his hair, that helps.

Maybe, maybe it’s just been a bad week. Maybe there will be a lot of bad weeks, maybe there won’t be. Maybe things will be fine, maybe they won’t. You and Syd will still succeed, even if he fails. Everyone will, even if he fails. He has a very capable crew. And while he cannot escape the thought that failure is around the corner, at the very least, he is comforted by the idea that at least he will be the only one sinking with the ship he commands.

The thought of drowning alone is still impossible to rid of. Though.

But you’ve sent a text. And isn’t that a wonderful distraction?

Your connection results in response to his, from this morning, of course. You actually got it today. He swells with what feels like pride, and despite the fact that no one's looking at him, he has to hide his smile with his hand, embarrassed by how happy he is, when he sees the photo you’ve sent, just now. A selfie, sitting next to an oven, Other Tony’s oven. You’re holding a fried wire in your hand.

The text below it is a wonderful salve, ‘If you ever fuck up your ovens, I’ve got like, 10 thermocouples in my personal stock now :))’

So good to him, too good to him. Too good to anyone. ‘Heard.’

Carmen so, so fucking desperately wants to ask you to come to The Bear, right now. You’re only two blocks away, at La Mattina. You’d come, if he asked. He knows that. But he also knows that even if you calm him down, in the long run, it’ll set his day even further off tempo, he’ll be distracted the rest of his shift, and that’s the last thing he needs. He can handle this himself.

‘:)’ For levity. Or something. He’s trying. You give it a heart, so that means he’s done something good, he’s pretty sure.

There’s a knock at his door. Richie does not wait for an answer before coming in. His knocks are more like warnings, really. Carmen’s quick to tuck his phone away, he knows it’d be perfect cannon fodder to be teased into oblivion.

“Aye, cous—”

Carmen does not let the man get a word in inch wise, “Who’s on expo?”

Richie grimaces, this fucking song and dance, again. “Syd.”

“Who’s on her station, then?”

“T.”

“And hers?”

“She’s doin’ fuckin’ both Carmy— And—” Richie pulls a sharpie out of his breast pocket, throwing it at him. Carmen catches it. “Fuckin’ works. Alright?”

Marker works, and the system works. He catches the double meaning, too. Carmen nods, “Heard.”

“Christ.” Richie looks to high heaven, looks to his best friend, really, to give him strength. “Can I take my fuckin’ turn now?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ‘head.” Carmen turns to his desk, looking over the excel sheet, again. He can’t imagine Richie needing all of his undivided attention, right now, he’s not you.

Speaking of you, he can’t find your repair expenses anywhere on here. He needs to text Sug, about that. No, she’s got a fucking baby, he’ll at least look for a physical copy, first.

“I need to take two hours, on Friday.”

“Huh?” Carm’s head snaps up. Okay, maybe he does need to give his full attention to Richie, right now. “Eva got a fuckin’ recital, or somethin’?”

“No, no, uh— Chip wants to get dinner.” Rich scratches his nose with his thumb. “Thought since Fak's been training to host f'like, the whole fuckin’ month, could do dinner 'ere, let him do a run on us. Two birds, one bullet, y’know.”

“It’s stone.”

“I’m not fuckin’ high, cousin—” “No, it’s— Alright.” Carmen closes his eyes, hand over his face, deciding this is not the fight he wants to choose. “Tony’s getting dinner with you?”

“If I’m allowed, your fuckin’ Majesty.”

If it were up to Carmen? He wouldn’t be. But you specifically asked. Why, he has no idea. Carmen crosses his arms. “Yeah, yeah, s’fine. Just start at like, a not peak time. Like 4:30? Then when rush starts after 5 Fak’ll have a lil' momentum.”

“Heard. I’ll tell ‘em.” Richie nods, turning to make his way out.

Carm’s leg bounces, a tick that he’s pretty sure he’ll never get rid of. “… Ey Rich?”

He stops, turning back to Carmy, “Yeah, cousin?”

Carmen taps the end of the sharpie on the table, not looking at Richie, “What’s uh— Why d’you call Tony ‘Chip’?”

Ever so slightly, Richie’s brows furrow. “Did'j'ya ask her?”

Carm shakes his head, “S’why I’m asking you.”

Richie takes a beat, head rocking to the side, “Y'should ask her, she’ll tell you.”

Carmy squints, at that, “Is it fuckin’ dark or somethin’, cousin?”

What’s so secretive about Chip? He figured it would be some stupid inside joke with chocolate chips, like Sug with the salt mix up. Richie swallows, frowning just a bit. He clearly does not know how to answer this question, which just makes Carmen even more curious.

“S’ not dark, kinda, it’s just, y’know. Personal.” Since when the fuck did Richie have respect for personal? Probably since he sent him to stage. Goddammit.

“Did you not coin it?”

“Mikey did.”

Oh.

Huh.

Mikey got to do that first, too, eh?

“But, y’know, ask her, she likes you well enough to tell you, I think.” Richie shrugs, palms out. “Kinda tells stories like that better than me, anyways.” That's high praise— Not in the sense that Richie's a great storyteller, but that he's willing to admit it, for you.

“Oh, she doesn’t bury the fuckin’ lead?”

“Oh, fuck you.” But it’s true, so Richie’s amused. There’s something nice, about being known. Even if it’s to tease.

There’s a lull of silence. Quite frankly, Carmen’s hoping that Richie’s general disdain of silence will force him to confess your nickname backstory, just to fill the void. It doesn’t. Instead, it just gears him up, in the worst way, able to read the look on Carmen’s face.

“You really wanna fuckin know, huh?” Richie tilts down his head, teasing. Carmen groans. Oh dear god, why him. “Oh, fuck, you fuckin’ like her, don’t’chu, cousin? You fuckin’ dog.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rich—”

“Aye, Chip’s a real catch, I gettit— Works hard, plays nice, cleans up good— Y’have my blessing.”

“Didn’t ask for it.”

“Aye,” Richie snaps his fingers, pointing at Carmen like he could smite him. “Don’t gimme no talk back, she was my boy first, a’right? One bad word from me, n’ your lil’ fantasy—” He gestures an explosion with his hand, making a ‘pop’ sound with his lips.

“Gone, cousin.”

Carmen leans back in his seat, playing with the sharpie in his hand. He’s essentially Kubrick staring down Richie, but the guy is unaffected. “Friday, 4:30, two hours. If Fak fucks up, you’re on deck.”

“Heard.”

“Jeff, can I please get an all day, baby?” Baby is Tina’s new HR approved version of ‘for the love of fucking god’ She’s definitely at her limit, meaning Syd’s definitely at her limit on expo. Richie starts to step out, walking backwards.

“You comin’ cousin?”

Carm scratches his nose, straightening up back to his desk. He wishes he could go back to the kitchen, where he knows he’s good, instead of in here, with some goddamn spreadsheets that he cannot comprehend beyond bad. “Uh, one sec, I just need to finish this fuckin’—” He shakes his hand in the air, “Whatever the fuck this is.”

Richie nods, tapping the doorway on his way out. “Heard… g’luck.”

Carmen does not look at the spreadsheets. No. He thinks. He doesn't think about business.

That wasn’t true, was it? A phone call from Richie wouldn’t be the end of him, end of you, would it? Carmen is on the losing playing field here, practically everyone here has more history with you than he does. If he had a… lapse in behaviour, and it got back to you, would that ruin him? God, even his work family ruins things for him. Or could. Which means they will. Catastrophizing.

Whatever. What the fuck ever. He needs to find your invoice. After some flipping through last month’s file, he finds a sticky note from Sug between loose pages.

‘reminder: ask carmy 4 tony invoice’

He squints. You said Nat took care of it. Maybe it’s an old sticky note, he’ll text her about it, it’ll be a solid forty hours before he’ll get a response, anyways. Mom stuff. He really needs to go visit his niece again, soon. Maybe this weekend. Take Richie’s car. But then he'll probably will be forced to take Richie, too. Maybe he should just ask you, instead. Let Nat thank you for the heating pad she’s been loving, properly. Have dinner, all together, in an actual family home, instead of just each other's apartments. That'd be nice.

Yeah. Yeah. He’ll ask you on Friday, when you come for dinner. He grabs a pad of paper, biting the cap off his sharpie. He’ll make you something off menu, on Friday. You’re coming before the rush, anyways, he’ll have time to play, on Friday.

He’s gonna do right by you, this Friday.

Tomorrow, you’ll be getting dinner with Richie, and it’ll be the worst Friday of your life.

But right now, it’s Thursday night, and you’ve finally finished Carmen’s piece for The Bear. You know you told him if he didn’t like it, he didn’t have to put it up, but admittedly, if he doesn’t like it, you will be crushed.

One big white canvas.

Nine perfect squares, perfectly equidistant from each other at all angles.

Each square a snippet, a photo transfer. The squares themselves are messy, sun damaged, bleach stained, light flared. All twinged blue and yellowish. But so perfectly cut and curated.

Each image, something new. Starting at the top left, it’s The Original Beef. Then, the inside. Then the booths.

Then the second row, the sandwiches, held in hands.

The center photo. You've taken almost all of these photos on a disposable from yesteryear, but this is the one you like the most.

Mikey. The only transfer completely unbleached, unaltered, unruined. He’s holding two cut outs. One, Food & Wine and the other, a small section in the off off off pages of the New York Times.

Both specifically the one’s that mentioned Carmen, winning Best Chef and the James Beard.

Mikey was so proud. So so proud, silently, just with you— Couldn't look soft. Carmen does not know this photo exists. No one does. You hope this piece will act as the catalyst for you to be able to talk about the elephant in the room you’ve yet to open for him.

Right next to Mikey, is a balloon on a pipe— A photo you grabbed from Sydney and printed. You can only imagine the stress you could’ve eased, during their fire safety test. C’est la vie. Fak got to prove himself.

And on the last row, the new, ritzy, booths. The Seven Fishes dish— Also a photo you stole from Sydney. And finally, The Bear’s sign. Taken at night, lit up in all its neon glory.

Though the images are disconnected, starting from Mikey in the center— Clean, the flaring and staining grows more intense at the pictures in the corner. Just bordering on illegible. It all feels interconnected, woven.

It’s Carmen. Or, at least, you think it is. That’s what you were trying to achieve. You took inspiration from the way his brain works, the way he cooks messy but produces orderly, the way he’s grown something out of what was barely more than nothing. The way love and grief is at the center of everything. He’s awfully inspiring.

You’re excited, to show this to him tomorrow, on Friday. Hopefully all goes well, on Friday. You’re coming before the rush, you’ll probably have a little time to talk, on Friday. You won’t be able to get into everything, no, you’ve promised most of your bandwidth to Richie, but you’ll make a good start, on Friday.

You’re gonna do right, by Carmen, on Friday.

Tomorrow.

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

i've still got 2k of beats to cover for the next chapter, and have 7.9k already written out, for it. This is going to be fun. lmao. I'm genuinely very very excited for you to see it, when it comes out. Cannot believe I thought like 4 chapters ago that'd this next chapter would be the one to be released next. I almost briefed over all of these past few chapters to be nothing more than snippets in a chapter, I would never forgive myself if i went through with that plan, fr.

Anyways, no time for the future, this is NOW!! I hope I described Tony's paintin' good. I think it'd be nice. MBMBAM reference in the intro, are you fucking HAUNTED? ARE YOU FUCKING POSESSED? Love griffy, had to. Carmen CANNOT stop having anxiety attacks, someone get him on prozac frfr.

Tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my hat, I'm gonna need some words to chew on while I write, anyways. Hitting a wall choreographing this back half of chapter ten my GOD. Also oh yeah, silly aesthetic thing. I dunno if anyone noticed or cared, but i do a different ombre banner when it's carmen's perspec-- Did it last chapter too, aint that cute?

Also, I must finally give in, I was lazy to do taglists, but have folded, so here u are mfs. If you'd like to be added, you gotta leave me an essay somewhere. It's the RULES! Well, leave an essay and also ask to be added to the taglist that is but IT'S THE RULES!!

@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101

fully added people that never asked to be on here, you're just like, top fans, so i thought it would be nice, but if you WANT TO BE TAKEN OFF LET ME KNOW I'LL DO IT IMMEDIATELY ALSO IF I'M FORGETTING ANYONE WHO ASKED PLEASE DO REMIND ME

Next Part

[feral-goblin-24-7]

Hotter than Diablo Sauce

(Chapter One)

Elizabeth Huxley was busy stuffing her face with a chalupa from Taco Bell and paying attention to putting mild sauce on it and not where she was going as she pulled out of the parking lot in her 2014 red ford fusion. If she had been, she would have noticed the car in front of her had stopped. Panicking after the crunch of her bumper, she slams her car into park. She looks up to realize the car she’s run into is an old corvette. The matte black car with the double gloss black pin stripping. Black Pearl painted in the same gloss black on the now crushed bumper. A massive hotrod intake stuck out of the hood. She realized she was double fucked when out steps Jackson Howl, her old Nemisis from Highschool. Though, it wasn’t the Jackson Howl she knew. This Jackson was even taller, coming in at 6’2” now, his light skin a dark tan. His loose curls were now well kept and short, not the long, almost Afro of his mom who was from India. He, also surprisingly, wore a dark gray suit with a white button up underneath with a black floral print on it. It’s maroon pocket square accented his skin. His suit jacket was thrown over his shoulders as he prowled to her door with a snarl, rage flickering in his amber eyes. 

Elizabeth was stunned, especially at the toned muscle that could be seen underneath the tailored suit. She wiped the sauce from her mouth and licked her fingers real quick before stepping out of the car. 

“So you’re the fucking bitch who rear ended me?!” He snarled loudly, not recognizing her. 

She stood their quietly, trying to keep the red from her cheeks at the thought of all the embarrassing things he’d done to her in Highschool. “Bitch? Bitch! Maybe I wouldn’t have rear ended you if you weren’t such an asshole!” She shouted. 

He stood there stunned for a moment. “And who,” he dawdled “has the audacity to claim such a thing?” As flames flickered in his eyes. 

“Elizabeth Huxley, you moron. And I know who you are, Jackson Howl” she stated almost calmly

“It’s Ellis now. It’s Jackson Ellis” he said darkly, his eyes guttering. 

“Oh,” was all she could think to say at the sudden shift in the atmosphere 

Jackson took a deep breath and said “well, now that I know that you’re Lizzy, I’m not gonna worry about this then. I know better than to fuck with you.” He sighed. 

“What?” She stammered, but whether it was at the huge insurance problem that about had her heart exploding out of her chest disappearing or the fact that she realized he had a slight British accent now, she wasn’t quite sure and didn’t know what that said about her. 

“I’ll just pay for the repairs, it’s no big deal. It should only be like 10,000 American dollars to get my body shop to fix it. Besides, I don’t want to have to deal with you longer than I have too”. He signed. 

She starred, slack jawed, at him. Where he was getting all this money, she didn’t know. All she could remember about his financial situation is that he was pretty poor when they graduated 4 years ago. 

“Now listen here, I fully expect you to buy me some bloody fuckin Taco Bell for all this mess, so park the damn car and meet me inside.” Jackson demanded with an arrogant air. 

Elizabeth met Jackson inside, where he stood standing, scrolling on his phone holding onto his jacket with one hand thrown over his left shoulder. 

“So, Jackie, what happened to you these last four years? You seem to have made a lot of money. What’s ya do? Marry and old lady and made love to her before she died? Ya kill someone? You rob a bank? Or perhaps you found some estranged foreign cousins and are now their little toy?” Elizabeth smiled wildly, making fun of him. 

“Oh, bolux, here we go. No I did not fuck a grandma, I don’t have the stomach for a moldy and mildewy nether regions, I didn’t get all this money by killing someone, no, there was no robbery involved, at least not of banks, they don’t hold that much anyways. And no, there was no estranged cousin.” He said, exasperated. 

“Well then how did you get it, Jackie?” 

Jackson blushed, glanced away and mumbled something underneath his breath. 

“…what?” Liz asked. 

“I… I got a lot of it from onlyfans”.

Liz was in utter shock. Seeing this, Jackson explained “ six months after we graduated, I, uh, attempted suicide. After I was released, I made a promise to myself, every time I felt myself starting to go down that spiral again, I’d workout till I was spent. The physical activity not only kept my mind off of things, but being productive helped. Eventually I realized that it helped another way, that getting in shape helped my view of myself. And it was after about 8 months after that, I realized that people would pay to appreciate me too. I’m, not fond, of the idea of what I know some people to do pictures of me or the sound of my voice, but everythings been PG-13 as far as how much skins actually been exposed. I also wear a mask so people won’t recognize me in public, which I’m guessing adds to the allure”. 

“A-and… and the accent?” Liz stammered. 

“I picked it up after I spent 9 months in London doing several photo shoots. I guess I got quite the chameleon voice, so I picked it up quick. I’ve only been back in town for two or three weeks now, so it hasn’t quite gone all the way back.” Jackson finished with a sigh. 

Lizzy stared at him dumbfounded, before Jackson said awkwardly “well, I suppose I should get going now. Thanks for the free food. I’ll get my people to get ahold of you for the bill on the car. Be seeing you.” As he got up and left. 

Lizzy mumbled “OnlyFans, huh…”

End of Chapter One

[gibbingtonwibbington]

Reminiscing about how many people Jillian and I brought to the rink, who at one point couldn’t skate at all. This one girl Jess could barely move her feet at first and by the end of it she was flying around the rink. I remember Jill n I were sitting on the benches just watching people and Jess goes flying by and we looked at each other like…damn she’s certainly got the hang of it now doesn’t she? Lol

I’ve taught so many people and kids how to rollerskate that within 6-7 times, they’re flying around the rink doing crossovers. My friend Joe was so hilarious. He was so pumped when finally got the hang of it that he was fkn flying and legit running on the shit rental skates at rollon. Lol. Probably because those things aren’t cleaned properly. Especially the gunk in the wheels that’s making them not roll smoothly. Haha fuckin gross. I should have taken their wd40 and gave joes wheels a squirt or two but then he probably would have just ran off before I could wipe the access off and then he’d really would have had a slippery fall.

It’s easy to catch people from falling. Especially when your skates are your second feet like mine are. They’re an extension of my body. Cuz imma lil cyborg wannabe. Lol

Little kids you can just catch mid air and prop back up without having to put your own stopper down. But say, if you’re teaching another adult, you can’t catch them from behind too easy, even if they’re falling backwards. It’s easier if you’re skating backwards in front of them, while holding their hands or one of their hands to stabilize their back. You have to have your back straight as a pole the entire time and so don’t they. It’s just a quicker trick for muscle memory. So then if they fall forwards you put your stopper on their stopper and yank them back up before they fall on their ass. Or if they fall backwards, you gta be quick af but you put one of your feet back and on its stopper and push forward quickly with the opposite skate so it’s in back of the faller’s skates, so you can lean forward and get an arm around their lower back in time. Cuz falling backwards in that awful banana split type of fall is the worst. There’s this mid air moment split second that you have time to just push forward and grab them w one arm. There’s this facial expression of pure oh no! When ppl fall back like that. Lol. Then you’ve basically grabbed them like you dip someone in a tango. Really is the worst fall to watch… can’t let that ever happen. Then you quickly find one of their feet, stopper to stopper and yank them up or just pick them back up with the arm you caught them with and quickly stopper to stopper them back up the rest of the way. Probably will need to give them a second or two to regain their head, to let all those tweety birds flying around their head to dissipate. Even slowed down, gunked up skates can make you fall just as hard as any other. I’d never teach anyone to skate starting with speed skates. My skates are speed skates. They aren’t booted high. Low ankle skates so you can turn yourself around at any time because your ankle is allowed to move. Helps you to do things the other tall boot skates won’t do. The wheels are also huge super wide, and are made with grooves cut into them that grip and basically glue the skate to the floor. You can notice how heavy those skates are because when I pick them up off the floor in my videos, you can tell how heavy they are. People who do backflips n crazy skate stunts like that use them and put on jump bars. A jump bar is basically a suspension from a car, but put onto your skate. Kinda like Dan’s young cousin (show off) but he was crazy talented and wouldn’t ever fall after his backflips. His skates just glued his ass back to the floor. He did land on me once though because I came up behind him too fast not realizing he was about to land another backflip. N guess what? He still didn’t really fall. Probably because I tetered his ass and he spun around, landed on his tippy toes and fell forward catching himself in a push up position on top of me. I didn’t mind, he was cute and had an amazing body. Hahaha

[akajustmerry]

why do you hate Doctor Strange so much?

hello!

i don't hate doctor strange. i hate, very specifically, benedict cumbersomes' doctor strange. I've said before and I'll say it again that a huge portion of why i cannot abide that character is because that man's American accent is so shit he sounds like he's talking around an invisible rusty led pipe that's been shoved into his mouth. hearing it sends me into a fit of rage.

but its more than that! its the very orientalist and racist foundation of his origins. he is the "white man can do ancient vaguely asian mysticism better than the people whose culture its egregiously appropriated from" motherfucker. they literally gave him an Asian sidekick that he constantly disagrees with and undermines as if that somehow makes any of the prior bullshit stink less.

AND THEN, there's just how fucking SHIT the doctor strange movie actually was like fuck off that movie was AWFUL. the astral projection fight was hands down the worst executed concept and some of the worst CGI I've EVER SEEN. also, the way he spoke to all the POC in that film made me want to hit him with a car and don't even get me STARTED on tilda swinton in that movie. DO NOT, also, the way rachel mcadams was treated in that movie was somehow even more sexist than pepper in the original iron man UGH

AND THEN, this motherfucker is just SHOVED into ragnarok for no reason like fuck off. the only reason it was even tolerable was that you could tell taika fuckin hated his ass too and so the scene runs with strange basically being framed as a total fucking wanker, but i hate the way he is shoved into these movies just to do NOTHING. like u could just put the time-stone in a special box and it makes his role irrelevant.

"protecting your reality, duchebag" WHORE, WHERE DO YOU PROTECT THE REALITY, HUH?? LITTLE BITCH, WHEN HAVE YOU EVER HELPED ANYTHING HUH? WHEN HAS YOUR CHARACTER DONE ANYTHING THAT A MAGUFFIN COULDN'T, HUH?

literally every scene EVER with dr strange is just him being a misogynist jerk doing the worst vogueing you've ever seen. i'd fight him to the death in a maccas carpark for 5 cents.

it's crazy because what shang chi is now is what the mcu had the opportunity to do with doctor strange, but instead, they went the route of creating one of the most unbearably racist, misogynistic and useless characters I've had the misfortune to see on a screen. and its made all the more worst that benedict Cumberbatch, a professional actor, is doing an accent that sounds like the one i did when 9 year old me impersonated ncis characters with my cousins for fun.

in this house, we hate mcu!doctor strange, irredeemably and without exception.

[auroralightsthesky]

If you have the time maybe something with Guarnere or Toye? I love your writing and I'm currently sicker than hell right now lol

OOoooh hon sorry to hear that, hope you guys are doing ok and that it's nothing serious. If ya'll need to talk or bitch I'll gladly listen either way lol, plus if it makes you feel any better my hand is stinging like a motherfucker from the spill I took on the sidewalk coming out of class this afternoon, BUT, not to worry I got dis!!! lol

The winter was really shitty one year so you and Joe decided to pack up and head off on a vacation

Where does he decide to go?? BRAZIL BABY!!!!!

You guys got off in Rio and oh when the sun hit you, you were in paradise!!!

Sun, surf, sand and soccer were your big things

You had no idea how awesome Luz and Joe were at soccer/football

So many games in the alleyways, a bunch of kids asked you guys if you wanted to join

Plus you happened to be there two days before the World Cup (trust me, in Colombia and Brazil, the world cup is fuckin nuts)

You saw for yourself how huge the Christ the Redeemer statue was and couldn't stop looking at it

But it was the little things that made it even better

Luz still had some cousins who lived in the area and they taught you and Joe how to speak Portuguese

You guys had a wild house party the night the World Cup kicked off

And the nature trails!! You couldn't believe all the wildlife and how awesome the jungle was

You and Joe even made out under a waterfall

And he even popped the question there

You guys made it a point to go back every year

Because Rio was where your lives really began