#smart menu

[mbshr-digital-menu]

فوائد هندسة المنيو لزيادة ربح مطعمك

ما هي هندسة المنيو؟

هندسة المنيو هي تصميم المنيو اعتمادا على منهجية مخططة لا تغفل التسويق في حساباتها، تحلل هندسة المنيو شعبية وربحية عناصر القائمة بالإضافة إلى سلوكيات العملاء للعثور على أفضل هيكل لتنظيم قائمة الطعام. أثبتت الأبحاث أن هندسة المنيو يقود إلى زيادة في أرباح المطاعم تصل إلى 15%، وهي نسبة كافية تستدعي الانتباه لاقتناص هذه الزيادة المتوقعة.

اعتادت المطاعم لفترة طويلة مضت أن تهندس قوائمها الورقية، في حين أن الرقمنة التي زحفت على مناحي الحياة المختلفة ومن بينها قطاع المطاعم، استدعت اللجوء إلى نهج رقمي في هندسة المنيو وهو ما يركز عليه مبشر في المنيو الإلكتروني. يجمع مبشر بيانات قيمة عن قائمة المطعم وينشيء تقارير عنها مثل كيف تزيد التغييرات من الأرباح وفرص البيع الأخرى المحتملة ..إلخ.

خطوات هندسة المنيو

الخطوة الأولى: حدد تكلفة الأصناف في المنيو

قسم كل صنف من أصناف المنيو إلى مكوناته الفردية، ثم احسب تكلفة إعداد كل صنف في المنيو بدقة. تحتاج هذه العملية إلى أن تكون دقيقة ومفصلة إذ أن هندسة المنيو تعتمد بشكل كبير كما سنرى على مستوى الربحية التي يتمتع بها كل صنف من الأصناف.

لكي تبدأ الحساب عليك إدراج جميع المكونات المستخدمة في صنف محدد دون إغفال المكونات الطفيفة مثل البهارات وزيت الطهي، ثم احسب تكلفة كل مكون في طبق معين بناء على تكلفة المواد الغذائية الفردية المستخدمة في تجهيزه. 

على سبيل المثال، إذا كان سعر البيضة الواحدة (س) واستخدمت ثلاث بيضات في طبق عجة البيض بالبصل والبقدونس، فإن تكلفة البيض فقط ستكون (3س). كرر هذه الخطوات مع باقي مكونات طبق العجة مثل البصل والبقدونس والتوابل وزيت الطهي، ولا تضيف تكاليف العمالة في حساب تكلفة الصنف. أما إذا طرأ تغير على سعر المواد الغذائية من الموردين، فعليك تحديث تكلفة الصنف مع كل تغير يحدث.

الخطوة الثانية: قياس شعبية الأصناف مقابل ربحيتها

في الخطوة الأولى قدرت تكلفة كل عنصر، والآن ستقيم مدى ربحيته استنادا إلى هامش مساهمته في الأرباح، يتم حساب هامش المساهمة كما يلي:

هامش المساهمة = سعر الصنف – تكلفته. 

الهدف من حساب هامش المساهمة أثناء عملية هندسة المنيو هو التركيز على تعظيم متوسط هامش المساهمة لطلب كل عميل.

يلي ذلك قياس شعبية كل صنف وهي خطوة سهلة تستند إلى عدد المبيعات التي يحققها الصنف، تساعدك البيانات التي يوفرها مبشر في قياس شعبية هذا الصنف. 

لكي يسهل قراءة النتائج التي أسفرت عنها هذه الخطوة، ارسم مصفوفة هندسية رباعية تتضمن محورين أحدهما للشعبية والآخر للربحية. بحيث يمثل كل مربع تصنيفا معينا كما سيتضح من الخطوة التالية.

الخطوة الثالثة: اتخذ قرارات بناءا على البيانات التي تم جمعها

ترتكز هندسة المنيو على تصنيف جميع عناصر قائمة المطعم إلى إحدى أربع فئات رئيسية بناء على شعبية وربحية كل عنصر، وفي ضوء النتائج التي يسفر عنها هذا التصنيف الذي يحدد الأصناف التي تساهم في نجاح المطعم وتلك التي تعيق هذا النجاح؛ يتم توجيه عملية اتخاذ القرار في هندسة المنيو.

فيما يلي الفئات الرئيسية الأربعة وكيف يمكن معالجتها أثناء هندسة المنيو:

النجوم (ذات ربحية عالية وشعبية كبيرة)

هي الأصناف التي تحقق أرباح مرتفعة وتتمتع بشعبية واسعة لدى الزبائن، لا تحتاج هذه الأصناف إلى اجراء أي تعديلات عليها، بل تحتاج إلى الحفاظ على مواصفاتها الدقيقة وتناسقها كما هو، ل��ن أي تغير في الجودة سيقلل من شعبيتها. من ناحية أخرى ينبغي إبرازها في المنيو والترويج لها بكل الطرق الممكنة، بما في ذلك التأكد من أنها موجودة في مكان استراتيجي بشكل بارز، وإذا أردت تعزيز ربحيتها يمكنك اختبار ذلك عن طريق رفع السعر قليلا.

الألغاز (ذات ربحية عالية وشعبية منخفضة)

تشكل هذه الأصناف لغزا محيرا لأنها تحقق هامش ربح مرتفع لكنها ليست المفضلة لدى العملاء وتحظى بنسبة طلب منخفضة، وبالتالي ترغب في زيادة نسبة مبيعاتها بسبب أرباحها العالية. لذلك  يحتاج هذا اللغز إلى التفكير في سبب عدم بيعها بسهولة لكي يتم حله. 

على سبيل المثال هل يمكن كتابة الوصف الخاص بها بصيغة أفضل أو ربما تحتاج إلى نقلها إلى مكان بارز في المنيو؟ هل لا تحظى بالترويج الكافي في مواقع التواصل الاجتماعي أو ربما يعيبها ارتفاع السعر؟ عالج السبب المؤدي إلى انخفاض نسبة مبيعاتها، حتى وإن استدعى الأمر خفض سعرها بنسبة طفيفة لكي تزداد شعبيتها وتحقق ربحا إجماليا أعلى.

الفرص (ذات ربحية منخفضة وشعبية عالية)

تعتبر هذه النوعية من الأصناف فرصا مؤهلة لزيادة الربحية بسبب الشعبية العريضة التي تتمتع بها، رغم ذلك فإن مكوناتها أكثر تكلفة، لذلك فإنها تحتاج إلى أن تصبح أكثر ربحية دون المساس بشعبيتها. كيف يمكن ذلك؟ بأكثر من طريقة، مثلا تقليل حجم الصنف مع تحسين مظهر الطبق، أو اجراء زيادات طفيفة في السعر بشكل متدرج، أو إقرانها مع مشروب يحسن الربح الإجمالي للصنفين معا.    

الأحجار (ذات ربحية منخفضة وشعبية منخفضة)

سميت هذه الأصناف كذلك لأنها تشكل حجر عثرة للمطعم في طريقه نحو تعظيم أرباحه، فهي من ناحية تصنع من مكونات مكلفة ومن ناحية ثانية لا تحقق نجاحا بين الزبائن، كما تشغل مساحة لا عائد من ورائها في القائمة على حساب أصناف أخرى قد تحقق أرباحا أكثر. لذلك فإن هذه المجموعة ينبغي أن يتم إقصاؤها من المنيو في أقرب وقت.

احذفها مباشرة أو قلل التركيز عليها بمنحها أماكن هامشية من المنيو، يمكنك أيضا إعادة تسميتها أو اجراء تعديل عليها قبل حذفها تماما. الاستثناء الوحيد لهذه الاجراءات يكون للأصناف التي تمثل فرصة لاستخدام بقايا المكونات ولا تحتاج إلى تكاليف عمالة كبيرة لإعدادها، يمكن أن تنجو هذه الأصناف فقط من الحذف.

[spokenforinvaliduser]

iced nitro cold brew with vanilla sweet cream

[bxtonpxss]

.

[nosferatufaggot]

We are living in fucking hell.

[5mcsinatrenchcoat]

I will be real with you. As a player it took me like. Six or seven years to finally remember to use MY abilities in Mass Effect. I never learned to remember to use my squadmates' abilities, let alone combo them.

The gameplay previews for DAtV got me A LITTLE intimidated.

I mean I'll try my best. A year ago I was scared I wouldn't figure out BG3's system, yet I did. So.

(Button combos? BUTTON COMBOS????

Bring back my childhood and combo attacks scribbled on a sheet of paper near my computer 'cause I'm noooot remembering all that in the chaos of a fight)

[jessiescock]

What the hell... my phone screen has been broken for months now. Like the bottom 2 centimeters just stayed black and didn't display anything but touchscreen still responded so i had to type and stuff with muscle memory pretty much. Well anyways it just flickered a bunch and came alive again. this is surely some heavenly sign

[jswatson]

just moved in into a brand new "student sccomodation hub" and there's only an app to open the locks to my room

i can buy a physical key for 30€ (which is probably just a magnetic key which still relies somewhat on the system instead of on good old locks)

im buying the key tho i dont want to support this but ive already almost gotten myself locked out on my first night

i literally cant leave my room without my phone! this was such a great idea guys good job!!

[marzeydoze]

"Good news! I'm very smart and willing to break things"

[retops]

Let's have something light for dinner

[bookgeekgrrl]

My media this week (23 Feb-1 Mar 2025)

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

😊 Death Times Three (Nero Wolfe #47) (Rex Stout, author; Michael Prichard, narrator) - 3 novellas, published posthumously.

😊 Building From the Ground Up series (EmilianaDarling) - 68K, stucky canon divergent, starts in ww2, then shifts to post-ws recovery

🥰 my name is derek hale (isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)) - 74K, sterek canon-divergent AU time loop - really clever time loop story from the POV of someone (Stiles) outside the loop

🥰 Home Is Where You Are (Farmer 'verse) (charlesdk) - 62K, stucky AU: "The story of Steve Rogers, a former army captain and current farmer, and Bucky Barnes, a former brainwashed assassin for Hydra currently recovering and finding himself again."

💖💖 +79K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

Critical Hit (AidaRonan) - Stranger Things: Steddie, 7K - reread,forever fave - Steve plays D&D, rocks Eddie's world and then Eddie rocks Steve's

Unusual Weather (novembersmith) - MCU: Stucky, 8K - reread; post-WS, Tony needs to scan & fix the arm so Bucky gets the really, really good drugs + Steve as a distraction. Hilarious & hot.

The Tipping Point (unicornpoe) - MCU: Stucky, 16K - "Bucky shows up at Steve's door a week after he pulled him out of the Potomac. He brings his cat with him." post-WS recovery fic, lovely and gentle and pure delight

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

Handsome - Pretty Little Episode #27

Handsome - Tig Won’t Follow Anna Kendrick’s Rules

Handsome - Pretty Little Episode #28

Dish Podcast - Sandi Toksvig

The Sam Sanders Show - Oscars Bonus: Why Are Hollywood Wigs So Bad?

Um, Actually - s10, e3

Deadloch - s1, e1

Death In Paradise - s14, e2

Ask Hank Anything - How Does A Homing Pigeon Know Where To Go?

Sandi's Wood - s1, e1-3

D20: A Court of Fey and Flowers - s15, e4-7

D20: Adventuring Party - s10, e4-7

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

⭐ Vibe Check - Hey, Sis: featuring Caitlin Dickerson

Short Wave - What Happens While You're Under Anesthesia?

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Actors Who've Never Been Nominated For An Oscar, But Should Win

⭐ The Interview - Ed Yong Wants to Show You the Hidden Reality of the World

Switched on Pop - “The ‘Umbrella’ Effect: How Rihanna’s Breakout Hit Changed Pop Music Forever”

Strong Songs - "Where The Streets Have No Name" and "With Or Without You" by U2

You're Dead to Me - Catherine de’ Medici: the real Serpent Queen of France

Vibe Check - I Can't Call It!

It's Been a Minute - What women want: to embrace their inner monsters

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Dylan’s Mailbag: Overrated Landmarks, Exploring Your Own City, and Places We Secretly Love

Decoder Ring - Jerry Lewis’ Lost Holocaust Clown Movie

⭐ Decoder Ring - Decoder Ring Plus | Hollywood’s New "Holocaust Boom"

99% Invisible - The Brutalists

Pop Pantheon - Listener Mailbag! Olivia Rodrigo's Next Move, Cher, Gaga, the Lack of Gay Male Pop Stars & More

Sherlock Holmes Short Stories - The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Paradise

⭐ Song Exploder - Key Change: Hanif Abdurraqib on The Clash

Off Menu - Ep 280: Robert De Niro

Today, Explained - Is flying still safe?

Pop Pantheon - The Holy Bond Between Queer Men & Pop Divas (with Dr. Craig Jennex)

Pop Culture Happy Hour - 2025 Oscars Guide And What's Making Us Happy

Smart Podcast, Trashy Books - 656. Every Girl Deserves a Happily Ever After: with Rep. Stacey Abrams and Princess Mabel van Oranje

Hit Parade - The Bridge: They Must Be Our Lucky Stars

You're Dead to Me - Sojourner Truth: American abolitionist, suffragist, preacher

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Midfield General

Presenting Imagine Dragons

Pomplamoose

Southern Culture On The Skids

Chill Supermix

Left Brain, Right Beat

[grabdigitaltechies]

https://grabdigitalservice.com/how-to-fix-network-menu-not-available-on-toshiba-smart-tv/

[maki-makis]

QR code menus are the prime example of everything wrong with smartifying things that were perfectly fine dumb as fuck.

QR code menus: better not forget your phone home, also make sure to have internet access, open the menu, tap and scroll through different little sections for each type of food and drinks (if you're lucky enough to not have to download an app), order after 17 minutes and 54 fucks under your breath

Physical menus: open it with your hands, go through pages, order

What was the reason for this? I wonder about this every single time I see a place that offers no physical menu. What was this for? Who suggested this?

Was it the same people who decided we need to download an app for our fridge? Smart fridges, smart washing machines, dishwashers, smart doors, windows, fuck do I know at this point.

"Oh, Jimmy, you know what would make this basic product that does not require internet to do what it's meant to do seem more modern and luxurious so we can sell it 3 times its actual value?

- A Wi-fi connection."

Jimmy: "Brilliant. I think we've really shown just how trendy and in touch with current technology we are by making everything more complicated and frustrating to use."

Only physical menus, dumb appliances and tactile buttons on cars from now on, thank you very much.

That's all.

And most importantly - if something operates as intended without an app, it does NOT need a fucking app.

[heavenlybodies333]

Jealousy is a Hell of a Drug -S.R

Spencer Reid x jealousgf!reader

You didn’t plan on drinking tonight.

Honestly, you thought it’d just be a casual get-together—Emily had called it “team bonding,” and Rossi was buying, so who were you to say no? Spencer hadn’t been able to stop rambling about this new book he’d read, you’d teased him for talking through the appetizer menu, and everything had been perfect.

Until she walked in. Dr. Madison Keane. Nuclear physicist. MIT doctorate. His “joint dissertation partner,” whatever the fuck that meant. All you knew was she was tall, gorgeous, and practically hanging off of Spencer’s arm like she belonged there.

“Oh my God, Spencer?” she gasped, her hand finding his bicep. “I didn’t even recognize you without the curls!”The rest of the team greeted her, cordial and curious. Spencer was glowing—introducing everyone, detailing exactly how he and Madison had co-authored some impossible dissertation about nuclear subparticles. And when his eyes finally turned to you, “This is—”

You didn’t let him finish. You looped your arm through Emily’s and flashed him your sweetest, fakest smile. “We’re getting a drink.” Two absinthe shots later and you slammed the glass down and glared at the mirrored wall. “Do you like her?” you asked Emily, too loud.

She choked on her shot, laughing behind her hand. “Is this a trap?”

“She’s not even that pretty,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “And what kind of bitch doesn’t understand personal space why is she touching him like that?”

“She probably earned it,” Emily teased, nudging your shoulder. “Co-writing a dissertation’s practically marriage.”

God that made you angrier, “She talks to him like I’m not even real. Who even says 'nuclear physics' at a bar?” Emily patted your back. “The kind of girl who wants to fuck your boyfriend.”

“Exactly!” you said pissed off. You turned around. They were still talking—too close, too intimate. You saw Madison’s fingers trail down his arm again, and that was it.

You stormed back to the table with an empty smile and a new drink. “So how do you two know each other again?” you asked, cutting Spencer off mid-sentence.

He blinked at you. “She’s from MIT. We—”

“Oh, right. Nuclear physics,” you said, taking a long sip. “Because quantum entanglement just isn’t sexy enough at parties.”

Madison laughed politely. “It’s more fun than it sounds, I promise.”

“Sure,” you smiled tightly. “I’m sure you two had so much fun.”

Her voice sweet, her smile practiced. You knew girls like her. Hell, you used to be girls like her. Overly confident. Insecure in the worst way—like she needed you to know she had history with Spencer. “You must be his… coworker?” she asked, voice sugar-laced poison.

You smiled back tightly. “Girlfriend.”

Her mouth twitched. “Oh! I didn’t realize…”, eyes flicking up and down like she was scanning for weaknesses, and said sweetly, “It must be so nice dating someone so smart.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, completely ignoring her. You looked her up and down. “You still in academia?”

She smirked. “Of course. Published just last month, actually. I’m surprised Spencer hasn’t mentioned it. But then again… maybe he’s just too busy.”

You tilted your head, biting your cheek.

“I mean, I can’t imagine it’s easy to have a relationship when one person’s reading quantum mechanics before breakfast and the other’s... tagging along.” You lasted another 30 seconds before she leaned in to whisper something into Spencer’s ear, fingers still on his sleeve, and that was it. Your drink flew. Straight into her smug face.

You didn’t wait for the gasp or the splash or Spencer’s stunned voice. You just turned on your heel and walked out the front door, head held high, fury burning behind your ribs like napalm.

Behind you, you heard him—“Madison, I’m so sorry, she’s—” You heard him apologize to her—apologize to HER—and your stomach flipped with betrayal.

Fuck him.

You were halfway down the block when you heard his voice behind you. You didn’t slow down. Not until his hand caught your wrist, pulling you gently but firmly to a stop on the sidewalk. “Baby wait—”

You yanked your arm free. “Go back to her, Spencer.”

“What? No. No—fuck—don’t do that.” His voice cracked with confusion. “Why did you throw a drink at her?!” You ignored him, continuing to walk away from him, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Stop walking! Jesus—would you please talk to me?”

“Talk to your dissertation partner!” you snapped, spinning to face him. “You two can split atoms together and jerk each other off over how smart you are!”

Spencer blinked. “Are you seriously mad that I ran into a colleague?”

“You apologized to her,” you hissed. “She had her hands all over you—”

“She hugged me—”

“She touched your bicep, Spencer!”

“I didn’t ask her to!”

“But you didn’t stop her either.”

Silence.

“I don’t like her. I don’t want her. I want you,” he said, voice low, pained. “God, baby. I didn’t even notice she was touching me. I was trying to introduce you.”

You turned around and wouldn’t face him, arms crossed and as you went to sit down angrily on the curb you lost your balance falling back on the sidewalk right on your ass.

Spencer’s mouth opened and closed. “You’re drunk.”

“No.” you answered hotly.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Let’s go home.”

“I’m not done yelling at you.”

“You can yell at me all you want. Just not in the middle of the street.” He stared at you, jaw clenched. Then he pulled out his phone and ordered the Uber without another word.

You didn’t speak again until you were inside his apartment, shoes off, arms crossed, fuming. “I hate her.”

“She’s not important.”

You turned to him. “Then why did you defend her?”

“Because she didn’t deserve to get humiliated in public.”

“What about me?” your voice cracked. “Do I deserve to feel like I’m second best?”

His expression softened instantly. “No. God, no. You’re not—”

“I can’t believe you apologized to her.”

“I had to,” he said tightly. “You threw a drink in her face.”

“She deserved it.”

“She didn’t.”

“She was all over you.”

“She was being friendly. She was an old colleague.”

You scoffed, turning away. “Right. Another genius. Maybe you’d be happier with someone like that. Someone who understands your fucking dissertations.”

Spencer didn’t reply. He came up behind you instead—his hands sliding around your waist, his voice soft in your ear. “You’re the only one I want baby, I promise. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to understand every part of you—because every time I do, I fall in love all over again.”

You let him guide you to the bed, fingers pulling your dress up as he kisses down your thighs. Gasping as he pulled your panties down, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. When his head dipped between your thighs, he held your legs open, eyes locking with yours.

“Let me make it better,” he said. His fingers dug into your thighs to keep you in place, and he moaned against your cunt like he needed this, needed you. His mouth was heaven—soft, insistent, relentless. He licked and sucked like he had all the time in the world, humming when your thighs clenched around him, praising you between licks.

“God, you’re so good for me. So sweet when you’re not being a brat.” He grinned against your skin. “My perfect girl.”

You whimpered. “Don’t think about her,” he said, tongue circling your clit. “She’s gone. Only you now.”

“Spence,” you moaned. He flattened his tongue, slow strokes that made your head spin. Your fingers tangled in his hair as your head tipped back, heat coiling in your belly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I was so—”

“Don’t,” he said gently, curling one finger inside you now, his mouth still relentless. “You don’t ever have to apologize for loving me like that.”

You cried out, hips twitching, the world melting into the feeling of his mouth, his hands, his praise like poetry spilling from his lips.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moaned. “Give it to me, baby. Let go. That’s my good girl.”

Your hips bucked. “Spencer—oh—fuck.” legs shaking, thighs clenching around his head.

When he pulled back, lips glistening, he pressed soft kisses to your thighs and looked up at you with those impossibly kind eyes. “I don’t care how many dissertations I wrote with her,” he went on, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. “I love you, I love how you dont like pickles with anything and always give me your extra one, I love how your favorite things to collect are those little teacups, I love getting to cook for you, I love that you’re smart in ways that can’t be measured with letters after your name. I love you now and forever. ”

You finally exhaled. “I love you too.”

He was yours. Nuclear physics bitch be damned.

a/n: okayyy papiiiichulo

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

[enjakey]

Physics and Arts

Jake x you | fluff, opposites attract, some smut, students au | smart kink, whimper kink | Jake is a science geek, reader is an academia geek | small drabble

Jake didn’t know how he ended up with someone like you.

For the longest time, he thought he’d end up with someone similar to him. Someone who liked math and physics, could solve numerical problems within seconds- just hand him a pen and paper and he’d prove it to you- and liked music the way he did. He was in a band with his college friends, he played the second guitar and was the lead rapper (whenever it was needed)

But you? You were nothing like him.

But it wasn’t to say you weren’t smart- no, you were so learned, so knowledgeable. Just not in the way Jake was. Because Jake was all about numbers, all about the way he could perceive the world through physics and mathematical theories. He could go on and on about Oppenheimer (he even read his book) and Schrödinger’s cat and about Murphy’s law and about how he wanted to become and space engineer one day. He could ramble about the physics of stars and galaxies and how our universe was infinitely stretching.

You, on the other hand, looked at the world through culture, social institutions and contemporary issues of race, class, gender and religion. You looked at the world through philosophies of Socrates and Nietzsche and whenever you talked about the theory of multiple universes, you looked at like a philosophical question rather than a scientific one.

It was an argument, a debate, you and Jake had been tangled in during many occasions- during breakfast coffees or nights where neither of you could fall asleep.

You liked to write essays, read knowledge heavy books and nitpick at research papers like it was your hobby. Jake hated reading research papers, hated reading books with too many words and hated doing his citations for his essays (and out of frustration, you started doing it for him, afraid he’d get called out for plagiarism).

While you liked to study in silence, Jake loved to listen to r&b music while doing assignments- cracking numbers in his brain like a calculator.

Your mind didn’t work like his, that much was certain. You disagreed on so many topics, looked at life and the world through complete different lenses and saw the future as two different destinations- one as death and the other as success.

Jake really didn’t know how he ended up here with you.

When he was set up with a blind date by a mutual friend- Heeseung, his senior, who thought the pair of you would be a great couple- Jake didn’t know how he came to that conclusion. Because during that date, where you sat across from him in a yellow-lit café surrounded by potted plants and flowers, he could only ever see you as a friend.

And for the longest time, the pair of you did agree to be friends. And that friendship consisted of early morning coffee runs at that very cafe, standing in line together to guess the special of the menu for that morning, talking about your classes from the day prior.

Your conversations consisted of you quoting various theorists across academia and philosophy- because that was pretty much your whole personality- while Jake hid most of himself away and only showed the fun parts, the goofy parts you seemed to enjoy being around so much.

But then, one day, you fixed his grammar while he was speaking and Jake was taken aback. Jake might have been a science geek but the knowing the English language was important to him. You knew that, and corrected his grammar- something about using the past participle in the wrong context. He didn’t know what else he was expecting- you, who spent most of your time writing essays and buried in academic literature, obviously knew the rules and regulations of English better than he did.

But it was finally when Jake actually started to let his interest show- his spanning knowledge on physics theory- did he realise how smart you actually were. Because when he talked about the string theory, you finished a lot of his sentences. And he was stunned that you’d known about it, that you’d once spent a phase in university studying about the physics of the universe, to see if the world could be explained and understood by scientific theory rather than sociological critique.

And you understood both worlds, unlike Jake. You understood the science of living as well as the art of living. And Jake almost envied that about you, that your brain had somehow unlocked crevices that could comprehend things Jake couldn’t fathom.

Because to him, the contemporary world belonged to all the social media scandals and TikTok videos explaining comedic politics and a dying economy.

But to you, it was more than that. It would always mean more than that.

It wasn’t until a night you found yourself laying on his bed that Jake started seeing you differently. Like, physically, actually differently after spending days coming to terms with the fact that he didn’t just find your mind sexy, but you as a whole person too. How did you end up on his bed? You were simply too lazy to leave in the first place, after having stuffed your face with too many bowls of Jake’s perfectly cooked ramen and after arguing over something about the science of manifestations.

Your brain was throbbing from all the times you’d raised your voice to prove a point and he raised his voice to do the same- not that any of it was out of malice. Such conversations were common to you, by that point. It was integral to your friendship with Jake.

Somehow, Jake found himself scooting closer to you, wrinkling the navy blue duvet under him. He hovered over you for only a moment, eyes locking, breath ragged as if he were afraid to you a question- a question of which you knew he’d ask you.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered under his breath and the words hit your cheek with a warm welcome.

And when you didn’t show any signs of discomfort, when you moved your face closer to his and fluttered your eyes closed, Jake kissed you. It was a kiss long over due and if Heeseung found out, he would brag about introducing you to each other- because, perhaps, he was right. He was right about you being a good couple and he was right about you getting along.

And, fuck, did kissing you feel right, too.

Jake didn’t know how to pull away from you. He just let his hands wander, holding and clutching anything he could get get a grip on- your jaw, your neck, your hair, your waist and finally, your hips.

He was heaving for air- but he kissed you like you were the oxygen he didn’t know was missing. He felt so euphoric, he was sure he’d wake up the next morning more blind than he already was.

In between all your pants, all the moments you refused to part your lips from his, your clothes had somehow (somehow? You knew where this was going) ended up in the floor. And as you ran your hands down his chest, his taut muscles under the tips of your fingers, writhing and desperate, you looked at him through your lashes.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

Jake let out a loud whine as he held your hips harder, feeling his cock twitch at your voice- usually so loud and confident, now teasing and sultry. He loved this change in you, this version of you that only he got to experience.

“Oh, Y/N,” he moaned as he let the tip of his cock slide through your wet folds, hips bucking in desperation. “Fuck.”

That night, he didn’t exactly rail you. He made love to you (the railing would happen later and a lot more throughout your relationship). He whispered all the sweet things that went through his head when you talked about your favourite things, kissed down your neck and chest, sucking on your nipples and the tip of his cock touched your cervix.

As his cock slid in and out of you, careful and calculated in motion to make sure you felt every inch of him, you moaned for him. Well, Jake wasn’t even sure if he could call it a moan- it was high pitched, perhaps a whine, that came in short intervals and sharp breaths.

A whimper, perhaps?

He didn’t know what it was but he loved it- and he planned on hearing it more. It took everything in him to not go feral at the sight of you, at the sounds you made- you looked so breakable under him, so responsive, so weak as you clawed at him, searching for your own high.

As Jake spent more time with you, he realised that those high pitched whines you made didn’t just come from sex. No, you made them in your sleep, when you were tired, when you were yawing or when you were tutting at something you were annoyed at.

There were times when you’d simply collapse on his bed, hugging his pillow and saying something about being too tired to sleep- and you’d let out that sound again, that whine that made his brain snap into two and his body beg for you.

It was hard to keep his hands off you.

Your relationship, now, consisted of a lot of nights just… doing things together. The pair of you liked to solve puzzles- puzzles of all kind, the kind that had Jake scratching his head over numerical patterns and the kind that made you have a hard time visualise a painting. You liked playing games together- like one of those name all fifty states type of games. They were fun and they made you laugh and by the end of it, if Jake couldn’t resist the allure of your mind, he’d rail you against his bed, into his navy blue sheets.

And he introduced you to a lot of music, not the type you heard in mainstream media, the ones that blew up on TikTok. No, the songs he listened to were personal, old and carried history. Your music taste was… really terrible compared to his.

And while he shared music, you shared your love for film. And not the movies type of film, you loved watching film that was critiqued, that transcended generations, the type that one wouldn’t have heart about if they weren’t keeping up with film history like you were. And though, at first, Jake resisted- absolutely hated the idea of spending three hours watching films he’d potentially hate- he succumbed to you. Because even though he hated the films you made him watch, he loved the wonder your expression held while characters unravelled their stories.

Study sessions meant that Jake would be sitting on his bed with a pen and notebook finishing questions from his textbook with earphones feeding soothing music into his ears while you would sit on his bed, laptop perched on your legs, typing away on essays.

The pair of you could have easily just studied in your respective spaces- you back at your own apartment. But you simply didn’t want to- it was more comforting to be right there, a few steps away from each other so you could reach out whenever work became overwhelming.

There were numerous occasions where Jake would simply give up on his work and would slide onto the bed. He’d close your laptop and slot himself between your legs, head buried in your chest while you killed him to sleep, hands buried in his hair. And there were numerous occasions where you would sigh over an essay and pad over to Jake, pulling his chair just enough to give yourself room to straddle him, to wrap your arms around his neck and cling onto him like a koala.

“What would I do without you?” You’d ask sometimes, accepting the fact that Jake was your anchor now- that there was no escaping it, no denying it. He was your rock, your pull and escape from reality.

“Don’t think about it,” Jake would say. “You never have to know,” because he didn’t plan on letting you go- not anytime soon, not ever.

Because he loves your mind too much- he loves you too much. And you were his counterpart, just as he was yours.

Time and time, again and again, the pair of you would prove that physics and arts went hand in hand, just as you and Jake went hand in hand.

[luveline]

i just saw someone on tiktok say “behind every girl that always wants to be around their partner is a little who’s dad didn’t choose her.” with aaron pls :(( and reader reveals her daddy issues? xxx

—hotch comforts you when you worry you depend on him for the wrong reasons. fem, 2k

You were aware of the irony. Girl who hates her father latches onto the first older man to give her any positive attention: the framing isn’t complimentary to either of you, and it’s not true, really. You love Aaron because he’s kind, and he’s handsome, and because he loves you first. You won’t pretend he’s perfect even if he might say that about you. He doesn’t have to be. 

Aaron is kind where all the other men in your life have been cruel. He is the person you go to when things go wrong, even if you don’t expect him to fix things for you. You know you have ‘daddy issues’, and you don’t want them to affect how you and Aaron are when you’re together, but it’s obvious to the both of you that you crave being looked after. The way Aaron takes care of you absolutely factors into why you love him. 

He wraps the tail end of your scarf into your coat and flattens the lump of it until it’s under your chin. “Alright?” he asks, not expecting an answer as he turns away to grab his own scarf. “Will that coat be warm enough? It might be a few hours.” 

“Fine. We’ll be inside most of the time.” 

“Mm,” he hums, reaching back to pinch your side. You laugh and he smiles but doesn’t say anything further, pulling open the front door, and holding it for you until you’re on the porch. 

“You know you don’t have to… spoil him, so much,” you say lightly. 

“It’s not spoiling, he only wants a few things.” 

You’d personally felt that Jack’s birthday wish list was a bit long, but you don’t care. You don’t have a vendetta against Jack's happiness. If Aaron wants to spend half a paycheck (alright, a quarter, if that) on some toys, he should do it. But he probably knows already that Jack won’t care if he doesn’t get all of that stuff. “I didn’t get half as much for my birthdays,” you say. 

“Believe me, honey, neither did I.” 

“One year someone’s mom got me a full box set of movies though. That was a good one.” 

“One year, I got two different pagers.” He snorts. “And now they’re useless.” 

“I never used a pager.” 

Aaron goes a bit red, self-shame or something silly like that. “Don’t tell me that.” 

“Cradle snatcher.” 

“Stop, that’s not funny.” 

It’s funny. You aren’t shockingly younger than Aaron but it’s definitely enough time to see the difference (not that you care, you quite like him with his permanent wrinkle between his brows and his big, big hands). “I really haven’t. I know what they are, of course, but I went straight to a cell phone.” 

He grumbles something unheard. Together, you get into his car and drive to the shopping centre nearest the house, a maze of storefronts with outdoor entrances, like a mall that’s been shaken and thrown out over two streets. It’s not entertaining but in a way, it’s good. Aaron holds your hand and you can walk around with your head held high, proud to be a well-dressed, in love-looking partnership. See, your face says to anyone who’ll look, I’m well-loved. 

After an hour or two he kisses your cheek and decides aloud that you need dinner. He doesn’t ask if you’re hungry, he just chooses, and you love it. 

“Thank you for letting me come today,” you say, sitting across from him behind a dinner plate and a towering glass of lemon water. 

“Did I let you?” he asks, distracted by his steak and fries, though he sounds as loving as usual. 

“You could’ve said no.” 

“I have no reason to. I like when you’re with me. Thank you for letting me bring you, then, and boring you half to death.” 

“Freezing me the other half.” 

“Ah, so smart, so clever,” he murmurs. 

“Witty.” 

“Always, aren’t you?” 

You wonder about the dessert menu, find your mouth working of its own accord. “It doesn’t feel believable, sometimes. That you want me around so much.” 

He pauses, resting his knife across his fork. With a free hand, he gestures to your hand. “Would you like more proof?” 

You aren’t sure what he means, the tennis bracelet he got you for your first anniversary, or the engagement ring that sits heavily on your marriage finger waiting to be traded for a golden band. Maybe he means the teeny silver bracelet that falls down your arm whenever you move, that one just for fun. 

“Not,” he says slowly, his eyes squinted to tell you that you’re caught, “that jewellery should be your sole proof.” 

“Would you like to prove it to me now?” 

He reaches over to squeeze your hand. “I want you around all of the time. If I could I’d have us sewn together at the hip.” He’s grinning, thumbing against your knuckles. “It might not be comfortable at night when you’re trying to climb all over me.” 

“You climb all over me, Hotchner, don’t lie.” 

Aaron nods appreciatively. “That’s right. You’re the second most important thing in my life, and that’s not your fault, only Jack is so endearing.” 

“He’s a lucky kid.” 

“No, he’s not,” Aaron says gently, “but I really do love him.” 

“Of course he’s lucky. He has a dad who loves him to pieces, his Aunt Jess is like, superwoman, and– you know, I know I’m not the same as that, but I love him.”

“You look after him,” Aaron says. 

“It’s honestly just nice that you seem to like him. You don’t act like he’s an annoyance for you, you aren’t angry to have to come out today to get him his presents.” 

“Well, no. It’s not something to be angry about. When you have kids, you’re signing up for every part of having them.” 

“I know.” 

He takes a sip of his drink and puts it down beside your own in what you know to be him buying a little time. “Honey, is there something… I don’t know, something you want to talk about? Is it Jack's birthday…?”

You feel your heart fall into your mouth, as though it began life somewhere else, heartbeat mortified on your tongue. He sees you fluster and immediately softens, turning your hand in his to stroke along the inside of your wrist. 

“Nevermind,” he says. 

“No.” You clear your throat. “It’s not about Jack’s birthday. It’s just… you know you weren’t always the best father you could’ve been.” 

He nods. “I do.” 

“But you are now. You’ve made sacrifices, you– you chose Jack.” 

“I couldn’t not.” You’re quiet. He understands. “Sweetheart, we don’t have to talk about it now. Would that be better? You can think about what you have to say, and I promise I’ll listen without judging you when you’re ready to tell me about it. Okay?” He gives your wrist a squeeze. “You aren’t upset, are you?” 

“I’m just thinking.” 

“Are you too distracted for dessert?” 

You let Aaron pick one for you. Let him pay the bill, he’d be insulted if you even asked about splitting it, and he might genuinely get annoyed if you offered yourself. You usually love it. Someone loves you enough that money is practically immaterial. Just last month he had to have the roof of the house redone, and you know his money isn’t infinite, as does he, and yet it didn’t stop you from being spoiled, because any money he has was money shared. You know if he suddenly turned pauper he’d still spoil you, same way you’re spoiled with soft touches and less chores than you should take. 

“You know I don’t think of you as my father, right?” you ask. 

Aaron chokes on a startled laugh. “Of course I do,” he says, coughing, clutching your elbow. 

“So if I tell you that sometimes the way you treat me reminds me of my father, you won’t take it the wrong way?” 

“No.” He smiles where he should frown, wraps an arm behind your back when he should be judging you. “Men are still men. And I am a father, so it makes sense that you’d have those connotations in mind sometimes.” 

“I don’t want you to be my dad, but I do wonder… I wonder if I want to be around you so much because my father didn’t want to be around me. Does that make sense?” 

“I think it makes sense to wonder about it,” he says diplomatically. 

You’re nearly back to the car and this is a strange place to bare your heart, but it’s not so dramatic, you suppose. “I just think that sometimes I cling to you so much, and it must be– I’m insecure about you.”

“Mm, but you have no reason to be,” he says, pulling you closer still, his fingers aligned against your ribs and warming through your layers. 

“My father didn’t like me, not like you like Jack. There were things that were far more important to him. But with you, I’m important, and– and I know it’s not the same relationship, but–” You groan, not sure what you’re trying to say to him, or what you want him to understand. 

“My father didn’t like me, either,” Aaron says, encouraging you to keep walking to the car. “He was not a nice person. And it absolutely affected how I feel now, even if I don’t always think about him. The way he treated me when I was young influenced the person I am now. And looking for the things I wish he was, looking for kindness, for a gentle partner, it doesn’t mean that I need a placeholder for him, does it? I know what you’re saying to me. Don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to be looked after.” 

You can’t help breathing out a sigh of relief. “Right.” 

“I’ve never been a young woman, and I don’t have a daughter, but it’s not hard to imagine how you felt. It’s okay to wish you’d been loved properly.” 

“I was never a daddy’s girl,” you confess. 

“It’s not fair. Everyone wants to be treasured when they're a kid. And it makes sense that you’re still looking for that feeling. We both know it’s not the same, but I really will look after you.” He smiles. “Okay?” 

“Okay. Sorry if it’s too weird.” 

“It’s not weird to want someone who takes care of you.” 

You bring your hands to his face. They’re smaller than his, you’ve shorter fingers with softer palms, but they fit perfectly on his cheeks. You tease the scratchy hill of his chin with your thumb before closing your eyes, reaching up for a kiss. The bags hanging from your elbows crack, crushed as Aaron gets his hands behind your back to hold you. 

“You’re too good to me,” you say softly, returning flat to your heels. 

Aaron pulls your face back to kiss your cheek. “You deserve everything you get, honey. I promise.”