#french women don't get fat

[specialagentartemis]

I get variations on this comment on my post about history misinformation all the time: "why does it matter?" Why does it matter that people believe falsehoods about history? Why does it matter if people spread history misinformation? Why does it matter if people on tumblr believe that those bronze dodecahedra were used for knitting, or that Persephone had a daughter named Mespyrian? It's not the kind of misinformation that actually hurts people, like anti-vaxx propaganda or climate change denial. It doesn't hurt anyone to believe something false about the past.

Which, one, thanks for letting me know on my post that you think my job doesn't matter and what I do is pointless, if it doesn't really matter if we know the truth or make up lies about history because lies don't hurt anyone. But two, there are lots of reasons that it matters.

It encourages us to distrust historians when they talk about other aspects of history. You might think it's harmless to believe that Pharaoh Hatshepsut was trans. It's less harmless when you're espousing that the Holocaust wasn't really about Jews because the Nazis "came for trans people first." You might think it's harmless to believe that the French royalty of Versailles pooped and urinated on the floor of the palace all the time, because they were asshole rich people anyway, who cares, we hate the rich here; it's rather less harmless when you decide that the USSR was the communist ideal and Good, Actually, and that reports of its genocidal oppression are actually lies.

It encourages anti-intellectualism in other areas of scholarship. Deciding based on your own gut that the experts don't know what they're talking about and are either too stupid to realize the truth, or maliciously hiding the truth, is how you get to anti-vaxxers and climate change denial. It is also how you come to discount housing-first solutions for homelessness or the idea that long-term sustained weight loss is both biologically unlikely and health-wise unnecessary for the majority of fat people - because they conflict with what you feel should be true. Believing what you want to be true about history, because you want to believe it, and discounting fact-based corrections because you don't want them to be true, can then bleed over into how you approach other sociological and scientific topics.

How we think about history informs how we think about the present. A lot of people want certain things to be true - this famous person from history was gay or trans, this sexist story was actually feminist in its origin - because we want proof that gay people, trans people, and women deserve to be respected, and this gives evidence to prove we once were and deserve to be. But let me tell you a different story: on Thanksgiving of 2016, I was at a family friend's house and listening to their drunk conservative relative rant, and he told me, confidently, that the Roman Empire fell because they instituted universal healthcare, which was proof that Obama was destroying America. Of course that's nonsense. But projecting what we think is true about the world back onto history, and then using that as recursive proof that that is how the world is... is shoddy scholarship, and gets used for topics you don't agree with just as much as the ones you do. We should not be encouraging this, because our politics should be informed by the truth and material reality, not how we wish the past proved us right.

It frequently reinforces "Good vs. Bad" dichotomies that are at best unhelpful and at worst victim-blaming. A very common thread of historical misinformation on tumblr is about the innocence or benevolence of oppressed groups, slandered by oppressors who were far worse. This very frequently has truth to it - but makes the lies hard to separate out. It often simplifies the narrative, and implies that the reason that colonialism and oppression were bad was because the victims were Good and didn't deserve it... not because colonialism and oppression are bad. You see this sometimes with radical feminist mother goddess Neolithic feminist utopia stuff, but you also see it a lot regarding Native American and African history. I have seen people earnestly argue that Aztecs did not practice human sacrifice, that that was a lie made up by the Spanish to slander them. That is not true. Human sacrifice was part of Aztec, Maya, and many Central American war/religious practices. They are significantly more complex than often presented, and came from a captive-based system of warfare that significantly reduced the number of people who got killed in war compared to European styles of war that primarily killed people on the battlefield rather than taking them captive for sacrifice... but the human sacrifice was real and did happen. This can often come off with the implications of a 'noble savage' or an 'innocent victim' that implies that the bad things the Spanish conquistadors did were bad because the victims were innocent or good. This is a very easy trap to fall into; if the victims were good, they didn't deserve it. Right? This logic is dangerous when you are presented with a person or group who did something bad... you're caught in a bind. Did they deserve their injustice or oppression because they did something bad? This kind of logic drives a lot of transphobia, homophobia, racism, and defenses of Kyle Rittenhouse today. The answer to a colonialist logic of "The Aztecs deserved to be conquered because they did human sacrifice and that's bad" is not "The Aztecs didn't do human sacrifice actually, that's just Spanish propaganda" (which is a lie) it should be "We Americans do human sacrifice all the god damn time with our forever wars in the Middle East, we just don't call it that. We use bullets and bombs rather than obsidian knives but we kill way, way more people in the name of our country. What does that make us? Maybe genocide is not okay regardless of if you think the people are weird and scary." It becomes hard to square your ethics of the Innocent Victim and Lying Perpetrator when you see real, complicated, individual-level and group-level interactions, where no group is made up of members who are all completely pure and good, and they don't deserve to be oppressed anyway.

It makes you an unwitting tool of the oppressor. The favorite, favorite allegation transphobes level at trans people, and conservatives at queer people, is that we're lying to push the Gay Agenda. We're liars or deluded fools. If you say something about queer or trans history that's easy to debunk as false, you have permanently hurt your credibility - and the cause of queer history. It makes you easy to write off as a liar or a deluded fool who needs misinformation to make your case. If you say Louisa May Alcott was trans, that's easy to counter with "there is literally no evidence of that, and lots of evidence that she was fine being a woman," and instantly tanks your credibility going forward, so when you then say James Barry was trans and push back against a novel or biopic that treats James Barry as a woman, you get "you don't know what you're talking about, didn't you say Louisa May Alcott was trans too?" TERFs love to call trans people liars - do not hand them ammunition, not even a single bullet. Make sure you can back up what you say with facts and evidence. This is true of homophobes, of racists, of sexists. Be confident of your facts, and have facts to give to the hopeful and questioning learners who you are relating this story to, or the bigots who you are telling off, because misinformation can only hurt you and your cause.

It makes the queer, female, POC, or other marginalized listeners hurt, sad, and betrayed when something they thought was a reflection of their own experiences turns out not to be real. This is a good response to a performance art piece purporting to tell a real story of gay WWI soldiers, until the author revealed it as fiction. Why would you want to set yourself up for disappointment like that? Why would you want to risk inflicting that disappointment and betrayal on anyone else?

It makes it harder to learn the actual truth.

Historical misinformation has consequences, and those consequences are best avoided - by checking your facts, citing your sources, and taking the time and effort to make sure you are actually telling the truth.

#history #history and the world #misinformation

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Turbulence

This is part 1.

You can read Part 2 here

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader 

Summary: An accountant helps Carmen organize his shit-hole restaurant.

Word Count: 14k

warning: panic attacks, stabbing Richie in the ass, mentions of suicide, tax evasion lol

__

After years of working in restaurants as an in-house accountant, Y/n met a lot of chefs. They were all the same, especially the good ones, and the worst part was that they all thought they were so unique and tortured. They assumed that their problems justified them yelling over a broken sauce or a pierced piece of veal. They made food look pretty and they served it to people. Women have been doing that for years and you don't have people praising them for that. Now some guy with a complex does it and its art, it's magical, it's jaw dropping. No, it was a waste of time and energy. 

It was food, a necessity and they had perverted it to some freak art show with conflicting flavors and overall mayhem. It was like a cult, where they convinced everyone that their ossobuco for breakfast, coq au vin for lunch, escargots de bourgogne for dinner, and crème brûlée for dessert wasn’t making them physically sick, mixing different cuisine in a failed attempt at being different. It was regular food served small, but the pretentiousness made y/n more sick than their food.

Y/n was willing to concede that Carmen wasn’t the worst chef she met. She got a job at the French Laundry a few years back and there really wasn’t a word that could adequately describe him because to her, Carmen was nothing but a shell of a man. 

In their brief encounters, y/n knew Carmen didn’t have a life outside of cooking. She would watch the chefs come in at the ass crack of dawn and Carmen was always there first. Even when he came to pick up his check at the end of the day, he would grab it before running back to the kitchen to check up on some marinated before he left. The stupid hunk of meat deserved more of his attention than the women handing him his paycheck. She had to refrain her self from screaming, “Look at me you stupid fuck, I’m here giving you your paycheck, look me in the fucking eyes. That steak isn’t going to do anything but get shit out in a few hours! I'm real, look at me.”

It was an immature and one-sided hate, Carmen didn’t really deserve it. However, she found it hard to resist seeing him as an easy target, given his passive nature and frustrating obliviousness to the situation. She never actually did anything crazy like mess with his paycheck or fuck with his W-2, it was more like glaring at him when no one was looking or taking a pen that feel out from his bookbag, holding on to it for a few days, and then dropping it near his locker a few days later. It was very harmless and it felt nice to finally have someone to bother, without actually bothering them. 

Every so often he would do something that would make it difficult to hate him fully. He would open the door for her when they were the first to come into work, or he would help her pick up some files that she dropped, or put that very pen back in her cup holder because he assumed that the pen was her pen to begin with. If he had said a single word to her, y/n would probably have had a bit of a crush on him but he never did, infact y/n never heard his voice. Her office was quite a walk from the kitchen so she was left wondering if he belonged to the boisterous brigade of chefs who bellowed at anything in their path, or if he truly possessed the quiet demeanor he exuded. If he were to speak a single syllable, he would transform from a mere embodiment of her job dissatisfaction into a fully-formed individual.

That's why she was confused when she got a phone call weeks after Carmen mysteriously left. The resignation was a shock to y/n, she never once expected him to quit, she thought he would die on top of the stove when his heart finally checked out from all that fat, sugar and acid at 65. She remembered mindlessly sticking his last paycheck in an envelope to ship to Chicago, maybe he got a better job there at Venteux, Brindille, or Les Nomades. They must have sent an amazing poacher for him to leave just about everything in his locker but his backpack and never look back. 

“Hello, is this y/n?” Y/n sat up on her couch wondering who was calling her at 9pm on a Tuesday.

“Yeah…Who is this?’ Y/n wondered if one of her friends gave out her number without asking her again. Even if this guy had a nice voice and sounded handsome she would have to reject him based on principle.

“It's Carmen…Berzatto… from the French Laundry.” Y/n dropped her phone in shock, not knowing what knocked the wind out of her lungs more, the fact that she was getting a call from an ex-employee, the fact that he had her number in the first place, the fact that she was getting this call scandalously late, or that he actually sounded like that. Jesus, he was really holding back on her. 

“Are you still there?” Y/n grabbed her phone from the floor and gave him a simple, “Yes.”

“How have you…been?” He was unsure how to approach this and he would never do this unless he was desperate, which he was. 

“I have been fine, I heard you moved to Chicago, a new exciting job?”

“That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Y/n didn’t probe because this felt like payback for all the times that she said something to him hoping that he would fill the space just for him to walk into that stupid fucking kitchen and leave her standing around like a fool. 

“Umm…It's a long story but I have this restaurant that needs a bit of accounting?” Y/n didn’t say anything and let him suffer in his own silence like she used to. She chose to flop down on her couch again. 

“I'm not sure what the right word is, but the books are a mess and I was wondering if you could have a look.” 

“Paid of course. Obviously I'm going to pay you.” He stumbled out. Finally, y/n thought, he was fumbling which was a nice change of pace from his usual stoicism. 

“What’s the place's name?” 

“The Beef.” Y/n sat up on her elbows.

“I have never heard of it before, how many stars does it have?”

“It doesn't have any.” 

“Okay…okay?…” Y/n was assuming that he started working at some nepo babies new pet restaurant, the pay must be amazing for him to leave like that. A part of her was proud of Carmen for choosing money over his craft. 

Y/n continued, “Give me the owner’s number and we can get the details together.” 

“I'm the owner.” She didn’t think that she could be rendered speechless by a guy who would probably combust if you squirted cheese-wiz within a 10 feet radius of him.

Y/n composed herself, he was calling for her which means that he needed her. She had the leverage and she wouldn’t ruin it by babbling like an idiot. “I can come by next week.”

She heard a distant sigh, “That's…yeah…yeah, that's great, we will cover travel and get you a place to stay.” Y/n wanted to be a bitch and demand first class and a five star hotel but she had a feeling that he would actually think she was being serious. 

“I’ll send over the information, y/n.” The sound of her name coming out his lips felt foreign, she had never heard her name spoken like that. 

“Good night, Carmen.” Just as she was about to hang up the phone she heard a quiet, “She said yes?” He doubted her. Good, y/n thought, he should doubt her, he doesn’t know anything about her and that was entirely his fault. She hung up the phone and searched up The Beef, she found a hundred restaurants with the same name. What the hell was Carmen doing at a restaurant that couldn’t even come up with an original name.

She gave herself a week to prepare even though she didn’t have a job anymore. She quit a few days after Carmen did, she had lost all motivation to go there everyday, without a target she was just flying till she splattered on the ground. 

The underlying reason for her self-imposed week of preparation was a strategic move to play hard to get. Y/n wanted Carmen to realize her value and understand that he needed her and that she was just as good as him, if not better. 

Immature, petty, bitchy, difficult, mean; maybe her mother was right about her after all. 

A week flew by and she was at baggage claim when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and saw a short woman in a blue apron and an eye-sore of a bandana. 

“I'm Sydney, I'm new. I’m here to pick you up, Carmen says he’s sorry couldn’t do it but we have to prep for the lunch rush.” The way that Sydney looked when speaking about Carmen showed that she had a deep respect for him and a small evil part of y/n wanted to convince Sydney that Carmen was actually tied to the mob or did ballet in his spare time. Something that would knock him off of a pedestal and make him more like a person and less like a God. 

Y/n picked up her luggage and wordlessly rolled it over to where Sydney had it parked. The ride to the restaurant was filled with questions that she really didn’t know the answer to, What was Carmen like in New York? What was a dish of his that y/n liked the most? 

Sydney should have asked what his salary was, that y/n knew like the back of her hand. Y/n answer those questions by repeating things that other people have said about Carmen. His plum desert was to die for, he was very methodical in the kitchen, and he ran a tight ship, what more could she possibly know? 

Sydney finally pulled over in a rough neighborhood and y/n wondered if Sydney needed to do an errand before they finished their journey but when she saw through the window that another guy was wearing the same color apron as Sydney, she knew that this was the famous “The Beef'' that took Carmen away from her. It wasn’t even called “The Beef'' it was called, “The Original Beef of Chicagoland '' which was somehow even worse. 

Y/n told Sydney that she needed a few moments to herself and when Sydney slipped inside, y/n started sprinting towards the pub next door. She gave the bartender a sob story about how she was looking for a job next door as a waitress and how she wanted to know what the situation was next door, for her safety, before she asked for a job. The bartender bought her story and gave her a quick review of what had happened. The previous owner killed himself, shot his brains out, and now it was under new management, the old guy’s brother. Yikes didn’t even begin to cover what y/n thought but that was the best she could come up with, so...Yikes. 

She ran back to the restaurant, fixed up her hair and walked in like she didn’t just hear a horrific story that was going to make it very difficult to do her job. 

Y/n walked in, and she felt like she was in an alternate dimension, y/n was by no means spoiled and she had eaten in worse places than this, but the thought that Carmen Berzatto, her Carmen Berzatto, was working in a place like this felt like a joke. She wondered how stupid he looked in his chef whites, slicked back hair, and annoying long apron that looked like a skirt.

The restaurant hadn’t opened yet but she was greeted by a woman named Tina who basically rolled her eyes at y/n and then disappeared into the kitchen. Sydney chirped in with a comforting, “Yeah…she’s like that.” Y/n gave her an understanding smile. She wasn’t expecting much because nobody likes an intruder. 

“Carmen said I need to look at some books. Do you know where they are…or where he is so he can tell me where they are?”

“Sdy, can you cover for me.” Y/n’s head snapped up, she recognized that voice from the phone call and was rendered speechless twice. He wasn’t wearing those migraine inducingly ugly chef whites but regular clothes with a blue apron. He had many more tattoos than she thought. His hair wasn’t slick back with gel but it was actually relaxed barring any sweat that might have pushed his hair back. Carmen was buff, which was such a shock to her that she really did feel like this was not real. And lastly, he called this “new” chef Sdy, a nickname. They were close, and y/n couldn’t explain it but that made her eyes twitch. She worked so hard to get to know him the first few months at the French Laundry and got nothing and now “Syd” got a nickname. 

She took a deep breath before, “It's been a while.”

“Thanks for coming, let me show you the books.” She was surprised to hear any form of thanks from him but the lack of small talk was really nothing new. She followed him through the kitchen and heat from all the stoves made her nauseous. There was a lot of yelling and it looked like it was an overall mess both aesthetically wise and teamwork wise. 

They finally got to the office, it had a worn desk littered with what looked like a fuck ton of papers, scratch that bills. Y/n looked up at Carmen who looked…ashamed. She took a deep breath before sitting down on the chair and looked up at Carmen waiting for him to give her a rundown of everything. They were behind on every bill imaginable, they hadn’t been able to pay vendors, and there were quotes for broken machines. Looks like Carmen’s brother left him a real shit show. 

This felt like winning the lottery, not only was she seeing an interesting puzzle for her to solve, she was able to see Carmen look human for once. It was a shame, however, that the only human emotion that he was showing was stress but something was better than nothing. One thing that was untouched was the payroll, he never was behind on paying his workers, y/n felt a slight tug in her chest but she ignored that.

He looked down at her, and asked, “I’m going to leave this with you…umm….” And then he left the kitchen. Y/n starting grabbing floating folders and organizing. Most of the stuff was kinda sorted, but stuff like old payroll documents were in a file called “shit”, so she thought a total revamp was necessary. 

It felt like y/n was an intern again, resigned to tedious work. After a few hours and a quick trip to Staples for office supplies, she had made the cluttered desk look like her old desk in the French Laundry…empty, sterile, cold.

With a deep breath she left the kitchen to find Sydney so she could unlock her car so that y/n could grab her laptop. The heat was bad, but the yelling was mind scrambling. It felt like she was dropped in a war zone trying to find where she parked her car, an innocent civilian amongst the war torn soldiers. She couldn’t be here any longer, she practically ran over to Sydney and asked for her car keys and was mindlessly directed to some lockers. Y/n could tell that she was busy so she didn’t ask which one in particular. 

She started opening random lockers, and after her third one she saw a familiar sight. A brown wool jacket, the same one she had seen Carmen wear in New York, she quickly shut the door. This was too much, he was becoming a bit too human, too real. She finally found the right locker and rushed to get her laptop and the rest of her luggage and shut the office door. 

She spent the first quarter of her day digitizing payroll as a quick warm up, she had a feeling that she would need it.

Y/n moved on to a leather bound book under a gas bill and after a quick glance she knew that this was going to be a fucking disaster. Whoever did the books used different coloured pens, was writing outside the lines, circling stuff randomly,  doodling, and this was just the visual disaster, the closer she looked at the chicken scratch the more she realized how deep in debt this palace was. Thousands of dollars were being drained seemingly randomly and then money was being put back just as chaotically. There was no record of how the money was being spent or where the money was coming from. Even though y/n didn’t know Carmen very well she knew he would never do this, it was that brother of his. The inside of the cover said Micheal Berzzato. 

She spent the rest of the day organizing the accounts payable and receivables. It was like trying to go through a dense forest with a pair of nail clippers but she got through a fraction of it. She already knew that the money wouldn’t add up and that if they got audited, the restaurant would be in deep shit. 

She had her headphones in and nearly fell off her chair if Carmen didn’t brace her when he came in unannounced. Her heart practically shot out of her ass but she pulled herself together. 

“I thought you would have left by now.”

Y/n looked at the time on her laptop and saw that it was 11:30pm, she was a bit impressed with herself. Look at me Carmen, I can also throw myself at my work and I didn’t need people to think I'm God’s gift to man. 

“I lost track of time, is the restaurant still open?” Carmen shook his head. Y/n sat up and ushered him to the chair. She didn’t like it when people hovered over her and she wanted Carmen to look up at her for once. She placed her left hand on the back of his chair and her right on the laptop’s trackpad. 

“Your payroll needed to be updated, no one does this on paper anymore.” Y/n showed him how to move things around, how to change certain information, etc and she was expecting him to half heartedly listen but was pleasantly surprised when he sat there and listened. He asked meaningful questions which almost made her fall over, he wanted to learn and that was very… admirable. Y/n had to snap herself out of it, of course he was listening, she was brought here to fix and teach, and she wasn’t cheap either. 

She then directed him to the organized files and how to maintain file organization in case he was ever audited. He stared with such intensity that she had to turn around and pretend that she was looking for a file. She spent her entire career working in a building where almost no one knew her name, or really looked at her. The chefs were busy with their eye filets and lobster to look at her, management spoke to her through emails but now she was center stage which was making it hard to focus.

She ended her presentation with a short run down of the order that he should pay off certain bills based on priority. She finally looked down at him and was surprised that he was still looking back at her. 

“Wow…all that in a day?” Y/n only presented 50% of the work she did today, omitting the illicit money transactions Micheal had orchestrated, and here Carmen was looking at her like she was God’s gift to him. 

“It’s going to take a while to decipher this,” holding up the leather book, “but it's not impossible.” 

Carmen parted his lips before closing them a few times, “How long can you stay here? Like how many vacation days did you take?” 

Y/n debated telling him that she still had a job back home but there really wasn’t any point in lying to make herself look good for Carmen. Y/n was never one to be unnecessarily cruel, just a bit of a nuisance, so she would give him a bit of satisfaction. It was to make up for what she put him through in New York. She pretended to search for something on her laptop while avoiding Carmen’s eyes beneath her. 

“I don’t work there anymore.” Carmen’s head shot up and he wondered if he had heard that correctly. He wanted to ask why she left but he knew that would be crossing a line. 

“What are your future plans?” Y/n looked up and wondered that as well. 

She knew she had to leave French Laundry, she hated the long hours, overbearing bosses, and most of all she hated the people she worked with. There was a team of accountants who worked near her and even though she did the majority of the work she always had to fight to get a seat at the table. She was smart, talented, and competent but she was always officially relegated to payroll even when she was the one who spent weeks organizing binders filled with projection just for some jackass to get the credit. The issue wasn’t just her coworkers but her bosses that assumed that someone else had done the research and let her present, and infuriatingly no one ever corrected management. Add all of that with the loss of what she considered her only acquaintance, she ran as fast as she could. 

As for future plans, she had enough money to live a relatively nice life even if she didn’t find work for a year. She hated the French Laundry but she couldn’t sell them short, they paid her very well. 

“I don’t know, I will probably have to find a new job.” That piqued Carmen’s interest, he assumed that she had another job lined up because y/n didn’t seem like the type to get up and leave without an exit strategy. 

“If you're interested…” Carmen didn’t want to get his hopes up but he knew that he needed her here, this couldn’t work without someone like her. “You can always work here.”

Carmen’s head was swimming, if she said yes that would make his life a million times easier. He might actually be able to sleep a full eight hours. 

Y/n didn’t really know how to respond, she didn’t hate the idea. “Am I going to be the only one working finance here?” Carmen’s chest fell, of course this was too much for one person. 

“Yeah but if you need more peo-” 

“Just me is fine. I don’t like working with other people.” Clear and blunt, y/n didn’t want to waste his time. 

“Yeah..” Carmen looked one last look at the computer screen with the filled excel sheets that transformed his brother’s horrible business practices to legible spreadsheets and he knew he definitely needed her. 

“What time do you want me to come tomorrow?” 

“Whenever is good for you?” 

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “You are paying for my services so act like it.” What she said was rude and slightly uncalled for.

Carmen looked up at her and felt like he was back in New York again, like when he was too scared to talk to her or when he would catch her glaring at him from the corner of his eye. Carmen knew she didn’t like him but if he needed her so what could he do, most of his staff already hated him so what was one more. 

Y/n sighed, she tried to intimidate him to force him to toughen up but it looks like it just made him clam up. “That was really rude for me to say, but I think you need to hear it.” Y/n had a feeling that he was going to remember this so she thought she started to do damage control. 

“All I ever hear about your food is how amazing and jaw dropping and delicious and mind blowing it is. You are very..” Y/n struggled to find a neutral word that would allow her to lift his spirits but not too high, “..competent. Your staff however…”

That got Carmen to pick up his head, “They are goo-” 

“And I bet they are good but you can’t do your job and show off their skills and talents if they all walk around you like that. Can I be frank with you?” Carmen slowly nodded his head. 

“I don’t see your restaurant lasting very long with the crew you have here.” Carmen knew that but hearing it out loud stung. “You have to make a few changes, either swap out a few annoying chefs or make them change.” 

A few hours prior, y/n’s curiosity had gotten the best of her and she looked through Sydney’s resume. It was stacked with good restaurants and she even had a brief stint at catering, y/n didn’t hesitate to admit that Sydney was just as capable as Carmen. 

“Get Sydney more involved, she can do much more than what you have her doing now.” Y/n saw Sdyney’s pay which showed that she was getting paid a regular chef salary, she deserved sous-chef. Carmen nodded his head but he was looking away, in his mind he wondered how she could possibly even know that while sitting in his office all day. 

“They’re used to doing things a certain way.” 

“I'm guessing fear is not your management style.” Y/n pondered how she would fix a situation like this if she was in his shoes. “I would say avoid baptism by fire.” 

Y/n continued, “It's going to be a mess but you just need to lead the kitchen like you did in New York for the first few days and then transfer the responsibility to Sydney who will be watching the entire time so she isn’t thrown into a pile of shit on her first day and quit. That way you can continue to do whatever you were doing in New York.” 

It had never occurred to Carmen that y/n didn’t know what he did, but then again he barely  knew what she did. He would watch her typing away or he would hear fragments of urgent phone calls about audits, and give out checks. But other than that he didn’t know what she did for the rest of her day, so he had to swallow his discontentment with her not noticing him because he was no better than her. 

“I think you need to expect more from people, you don’t have to do everything by yourself.” Y/n concluded. 

It was quiet barring the sound of the lights buzzing. Just as y/n was about to slip out, Carmen swiftly stood up and walked out the office towards the kitchen and started pulling out bowls. 

“I thought you said that this place was closed, what are you making?” 

“What do you want to eat?” Carmen wasn’t looking at her as he grabbed a knife and a cutting board. 

“Umm…You don’t need-”

“Give me something, y/n”

“It's late, Carmen.” 

“You’ve been here all day and you didn’t eat anything…” Y/n gave him a disapproving look.

“Y/n.” He asserted, she couldn’t leave in good faith without eating something. 

She didn’t fail to notice that when he lost control back in the office he came rushing out to re-assert his power by forcing her to eat something he was going to make.

“I don’t know…something easy and wont fuck up my stomach.” Y/n conceded.

Carmen smirked, and y/n was able to appreciate his objective handsomeness. After a few minutes of chopping she was presented with a simple salad. 

“I tried to replicate the salad dressing from what I smelled from the last time I went to your office.” Y/n was shocked, she didn’t know that he noticed stuff like that, she was also amused that he had a great nose, both functionally and aesthetically. 

 Y/n was also surprised when Carmen asked her, “Why did you leave?”

“Why did you?” Y/n countered, she knew the answer but she assumed that he wouldn’t tell her. This felt like a decent way to manufacture some space. One step forward for making a meal and 2 steps back for asking probing questions. 

“My brother used to own this place…and he died…killed himself.” Carmen was full of surprises today. 

Y/n mumbled out, “I hated working there so much I would crawl out of bed hoping that I would fall, crack my head open and never have to step foot in there anymore… I would be gagging a block away from work every single day because I couldn’t stomach another second in my office.” 

Y/n assumed that Carmen couldn’t relate, he was a god back in New York.

“I used to throw up every morning.” Y/n put her fork down and looked up at Carmen who continued. “And I would get these heat flashes while I was there even when the kitchen was like negative three-thousand fucking degrees.” 

They were never good enough. 

It was an embarrassing thing for both of them to admit, they tried to survive in New York and failed because they were weak, but at least they were in good company. 

“My boss was a dick. He used to say crazy shit just to get a rise out of me.” Y/n didn’t know that Carmen had a boss, she just assumed that he ran the kitchen. 

“Who was your boss?” Y/n went down her rolodex of names before landing on, “That guy with the huge forehead?” 

Carmen covered his mouth with his hand but she knew there was a smile underneath. She was able to get a good look at his tattoo, she had only caught glimpses when he would grab an envelope from her or hold the door. At the time she thought it was out of place but seeing the whole picture, Carmen with his wavy hair, gold chain, smirk, and arm littered with tattoos she realized that she was missing out on a lot. 

Y/n finished her salad and helped him clean up before they locked up the restaurant and Carmen stuffed her luggage in the trunk. 

“You’ve seen our books..”

Y/n gave a small hum.

“So you know that we can’t put you in a hotel for weeks.”

“If I'm not staying at a hotel, where am I going?” Y/n was ready to jump out of the car if he said his house. 

“I have a family friend of a friend who is visiting family down in Florida, and she said you can stay there.” 

A weight was lifted off of y/n shoulders, y/n was feeling bold, “You’ve ever been to Florida?”

“I went once to check out a few restaurants when I was younger, you?” Y/n hid it well but she was shaking in nerves because it was the first time in years that she was getting some small talk out of him. 

“I went to Disney with my family and got a heat stroke. How long is your family friend of a friend staying in Florida?”

“More than 2 months later, she left like a few days ago.” That caused some concern for y/n, she was going to stay in a house that had been abandoned for a few days in a new city, it was like the beginning of a B - rated horror film. The possibility of a serial killer waiting to turn her into a lamp shade was probably close to zero but it still freaked her out. Carmen pulled into the driveway carrying all of her bags leaving her with just her purse. 

They approached the front of the house and Carmen opened the door and started placing the suitcases near the entryway, and y/n kept the door open, and Carmen got the hint. She wasn’t going to forge some type of artificial connection by asking him to help her walk through the house for any intruders because that would require her to rely on him. 

To y/n, Carmen was unreliable, he could ignore her for years, only to suddenly offer her rides and engage in small talk. What puzzled her even more was his transition from avoiding eye contact to intensely staring her down. Y/n could tell from the sound that leaked from under the office door that he had an underlying temper, a bad one too. She didn’t want to be swept up in his current and be left high and dry. He seemed like he picked up things quickly and left them just as sporadically. While she recognized his passion for food and cooking, ensuring her job stability, Carmen was…unsteady.

Y/n knew people like him, people who hurt those who were close to them when they felt trapped. What feared y/n the most was what would eventually come out of her mouth if they ever got too close and Carmen said something to make her go away. He would say something vile and y/n would probably say that he is nothing, or that he is a failure, or that it should have been him and not his brother. 

The thought of saying something so profoundly awful and untrue haunted her, making it impossible for her to bear the weight on her conscience. She had crossed that line before and was acutely aware of her limits. Carmen represented that limit—a boundary she couldn't afford to cross—rendering him off-limits in her life.

Carmen left a quiet goodbye and y/n gave him one back before shutting the door grabbing a knife and going through each of the rooms herself. She didn’t need him or anyone. 

Once she went through the house with a fine tooth comb she locked herself in one of the bedrooms, got ready for bed. Her lease in New York expired in a few weeks so she knew she had to fly back to grab her stuff. She couldn’t sleep in this grandma’s house any longer so she grabbed her laptop and started looking for apartments. 

Y/n woke up to the sound of her alarm and she felt nauseous before she remembered that she wasn’t crawling back to the French Laundry, she was trying something new. She got ready and spent the whole morning calling realtors and scheduling showings. She took the train to The Beef and when she came in, it looked like they were about to have some type of meeting outfront. Y/n slipped into the office and was momentarily shocked that Carmen was there. She put her bag behind the chair while Carmen was sitting, subtly telling him to fuck off and that this was her desk now. Carmen got up, “What a good boy? So smart”, y/n chuckled in her head. 

“What is happening out front? Do I need to sit in?” 

“We need to introduce you and we are going to transition to a french brigade, I just spoke to Sydney..”

“How did she take it? You told her you were going to take the lead or did-?”

Carmen was checking his watch obsessively, “She will be fine.” Looks like Carmen was in a hurry and so y/n didn’t even wait for Carmen to open the door before she walked over to the meeting.

She didn’t sit down because there wasn’t a chair for her. She saw the other chefs look at her but no one bothered to ask any questions. Sydney was standing right next to her and y/n saw that she was rehearsing her lines that were written in a small black notebook. 

“Don’t mention the role titles, it's just going to scare them off.” Sydney looked up at her. “And keep it short and don’t fumble your words, you’ll sound like a fourth grader.” Sydney opened her mouth but was cut off by Carmen walking out front. 

Carmen started explaining about how they were getting new aprons, how he wanted to reorganize the kitchen, and how they needed to be clean. He did not yet explain the elephant in the room to the rest of the chefs; who was y/n and what the hell is she doing here? Carmen was interrupted by a tall man walking in very late. 

He took one look at y/n before pointing at her with a coffee cup, “Who are you? Cousin, why are you collecting women?”

“I am y/n, I am the new accountant.” Any form of teasing and snickering died down as a new worry washed over the staff, if Carmen was changing everything he might start changing staff. If y/n could sense it, then so could Carmen and just as she looked up to him for support he quickly excused himself because he had somewhere to be. He just left her to deal with this mess. See? Not stable. 

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“Your not fucking firing anyone.” The tall guy threatened.

“Nobody is getting fired, no one is getting a pay cut and no one is getting replaced. If anything like that happens, that is Carmen’s decision.” Y/n allowed herself to throw Carmen under the bus just once because he left her. 

“I’ll just be keeping the books in order.”

“Richie, sit down.” An older woman instructed. 

“Carmen said something about a French brigade, it's essentially what you guys are doing just with more defined roles, it's not too different. Sydney will elaborate.” Y/n though she did an acceptable job not throwing Sydney head first like Carmen did and Sydney seemed to be a lot more comfortable then she was a few minutes ago. She didn’t title drop and she didn’t fumble. The crew was obviously annoyed but it was over quickly and Sydeny walked over to y/n. 

They walked into the kitchen and Sydeny was feeling overwhelmed because Carmen wasn’t here like he said that he would be. 

“Thanks for the pointers” 

“No problem. Do you need me to help?” Y/n had seen the inner workings of a kitchen before, granted it had been many years prior and in a different restaurant then the French Laundry but she thought that she would be better support then Carmen, who wasn’t even there. 

Y/n spent most of her time calling out orders, tracking what was sent out and doing quality checks, it wasn’t rocket science and she never understood why all those male chefs were screaming all the time, Sydney walked around and did her job as sous-chef. Overall, a very calm transition barring a few hiccups. A few of the chefs tried to steal some onions and y/n had to leave her station and tell them to basically fuck off. Sydney was already tense and doing stupid shit like that would send her over the edge.

The lunch rush was over and y/n was finally reprieved from her duties. She needed some air so she walked outside and into an alley where she saw Carmen.

She was beyond pissed at him, and the sight of him made her boil in rage but she couldn’t leave based on principle. 

“How was Sydney?” Carmen asked.  Y/n felt like murdering him. She took a few deep breaths before continuing to speak. He wouldn't listen to her if she screamed at him.

“You should have been there.” Y/n said with a bit of an edge.

It was quiet for a long time. Y/n put her head back.

“I went to an Al-Anon meeting, my brother was an addict. It’s his birthday today” 

“How often are the meetings? Once a week?” Carmen nodded.

“Did it maybe occur to you to push back the transition one more day so you didn’t leave Sydney alone?” Y/n said calmly and with no malice, she was so exhausted from her lack of sleep, food, and being on her feet all day. 

Carmen didn’t say anything, so y/n continued, “You're a steam roller. You don’t listen to other people and you don't think of other people. You left Sydney to drown, that wasn’t great. Not to mention you didn’t even introduce me.”

Carmen's gaze bore into her with undeniable intensity, yet y/n was too upset with him to be swayed by any semblance of attraction.

“I’ll do better. I’ll listen and be there.”

“We’ll see.” Saying you were going to change was different than actually changing. 

In an attempt to lighten the mood, she graced him with a small smile. "You know, your job isn't that tough," she playfully teased, tilting her head back slightly.

“Really?” Carmen thought she was being serious.

“No kidding, you should hand me your apron and the deed to this restaurant because I just killed it today.” Carmen caught on.

“What did you do today?” 

“Called out orders, made sure things were leaving the kitchen, blah blah blah. Honestly, it's kind of fun. It's like those restaurant management phone games, do you ever play those?” 

“That would hit a little too close to home.” Y/n snickered.

“My head is spinning and I didnt even start the work I'm supposed to do today.” Y/n sat up with a sigh.

“What do you eat?” Y/n didn’t respond. Carmen got up and came back a few minutes later with a plate of food. 

Y/n finished eating before walking inside and finishing up her actual work. The day ended and she was once again the last one left barring Carmen, who offered to drive her back.

As they both sat in the quiet car y/n spoke up, “I have to go back to New York.” Carmen’s grip tightened around the wheel.

“I said I would do better.” 

“I'm not leaving permanently, I need to grab my stuff and tell my landlord that I am leaving.” 

Carmen’s grip loosened, “You found a place here already?”

“I have a few candidates. I might have to leave in the afternoons for a few weeks to check out some places, I'll be back in an hour or two.” 

The rest of the ride was quiet, he dropped her off and y/n crashed into bed. 

__

Y/n had already been working for a few weeks when she came back to a dark restaurant. She walked in and saw Carmen and Fak talking, “ I thought you had a connection.” 

“Yeah, I definitely, definitely did not.” Which was followed by more whispering and then a loud, “Fuck” from Carmen. 

“What’s happening?” Carmen shot a look at Fak that sent him away and Carmen gave her a quick run down, the power was out and they needed 5,500 dollars to repair. 

“There isn’t any money in the budget but maybe if you finance…” Carmen looked around to check if anyone was there before directing her to his office. Y/n turned on her phone flashlight so they could see. 

“I’m going to ask you something, and it's completely hypothetical. Like not even a little bit true and you can tell me what the outcome would be.” Y/n nodded her head.

“Suppose we had a way to get the money but it wasn’t completely…legal…hypothetically. I'm not asking anything illegal because this is hypothetical… but what would happen to the books hypothetically?” 

“You can talk like a regular fucking person, you know, I'm not going to snitch. Do you need me to fix some books?” 

“I shouldn't have said anything.” Carmen started walking towards the door and y/n grabbed his shirt and pushed him towards the chair. He looked up at her and the phone light made her look like a prophecy discovered in a dream, so angel-like. Her words, not so much.

“You brother died so any fuck up that he did will result in us having to pay a fine which is not the end of the world, but if you fuck up… then thats malice and its jail time plus a fine…”

Y/n knew it was harsh so she softened her voice before uttering, “Let me help you, I want to help you.” Carmen was having a hard time focusing, she wanted to help him which means that she cared about him. Maybe her words were like an angel. 

“Is it a one time payment or is it…” Camen wasn’t responding, he was just looking up at her. Before she could ask what his problem was, he interrupted.

“I have to ask Richie.” Carmen peeled himself off the chair and opened the door for y/n. They walked to the front where y/n saw Richie and Fak were glaring at each other. Carmen and y/n took a seat.

“What is she doing here?” Richie said while not hiding his disdain for her. 

“She has to make this legal.” Carmen explained. 

Rcihie signaled for Carmen and Fak to come closer. “WHY DID YOU BRING A FUCKING NARC HERE?” Richie yelled into Carmen’s ears which made him reel back and clutch his ear. Y/n had to look away to hide her laughter. 

Carmen rushed to her defense, “She isn’t-”

“I won't. I'm just going to clean it up and we will never have to talk about it again.”

“We can’t trust her, why would you fucking bring her?” He asked Carmen who repeated what she said to him in the office about malice and jail. 

“I know you don’t trust me but I need this place running so that everyone here has a job next month. I don’t even need to know how you got it.”

Richie looked like he was thinking, before he threatened, “If you squeal i’m going to put your head on a fucking stick.” He looked like he was apprehensive but realized that this was the only way to protect Carmen so he had to risk trusting her. 

Y/n didn’t pay attention to their little squabble afterwards, but then the lights flickered on. They were back in business. Carmen slammed his palms on the counter and exclaimed a relieved, “Fuck” which made y/n short circuit for a second. It was nice to hear him happy for a change.

The rest of the day was spent creating fake receipts and adjusting inventory to account for the new money. It was busy work and after a long time, Carmen came into her office, it was her office for sure, squatters rights. 

“Are we good?”

“The IRS will be none the wiser…” Y/n said she wouldn’t ask but the curiosity was killing her.

“How did you guys get the money?”

“I don’t want to put you in deeper shit and this isn’t your scene.” He looked like he regret dragging her into his mess in the first place.

“Did you know when I was younger I used to shoplift.” Carmen looked at her with a raised eyebrow. 

“You don’t need to lie to-.” 

“I used to walk into stores and steal, I had the money to buy stuff but sometimes I just felt like taking something…so I did.” She wanted to be on an even playing ground as him so he wouldn’t hesitate to come to her in case something like this happened again. She couldn’t do her job if he hid stuff from her.

“You want to know what the most expensive thing I stole?” 

“I still don’t believe you stole anything.” He said with a laugh. 

“I stole someone’s wallet. It had $527 dollars and a bunch of credit cards, Ethan Thompson. Slid it right out of his pocket.” 

“What did you do with the money?” Carmen asked. Y/n debated lying but she thought honesty was how he would learn to trust her.

“I didn’t spend it, I waited outside till he came out and gave the wallet back. Told him that he dropped it. It was the only thing I ever gave back.” Carmen stared at her with a bewildered expression before laughing into his palm. 

“That seems like something you would do.” 

“Why do you say that?” Y/n was offended that he was insinuating that she was a loser.

“You are honest to a fault. Brutally honest.” 

“It's hard work but I try. Would you have returned it?” Carmen nodded his head. 

“Yeah, I bet you would have gone the extra mile and turned it into the police.”

A lull of silence passed and it was clear that Carmen wasn’t going to tell her so she switched topics. 

“I don’t want to be mean, but sometimes that's the only way I can get people to listen to me…I’ve been working on it.” 

Carmen didn’t want to be a smart-ass and say that he noticed a significant difference from her behavior towards him now compared to New York. She didn’t look like she was disgusted by him anymore. A bit of him wondered if he could change as effortlessly as y/n, she made it look so easy. 

“By the way…I'm going to take this office. Like it's mine now.” Carmen wondered if she was joking because she had a smile on her face.

“If you want it, take it. I never want to see another spreadsheet in my life.” If y/n smiled at him like that it would be nearly impossible for him to say no to anything. It was like finally getting her approval after working hard to get it in New York, like when he used to wake up early so he could walk in with her and open the door for her. 

There was a lull of and just as Carmen was going to fill it with a probing question y/n beat him to it. 

"Was it a murder-for-hire?" Y/n inquired, but Carmen remained silent, his expression unreadable.

"Sex work? Tax evasion? Robbery? Drugs?..." y/n continued, listing off possibilities, and in that moment, Carmen's lips tightened imperceptibly. It was a subtle movement, one that might have gone unnoticed by most, but for y/n, it was captivating, drawing her further into his enigmatic presence.

“Drugs.” She said with a slight smile,  

“I'm not admitting to anything. Did you find a place you liked?” Carmen wanted to distract her but he also wanted to keep her here longer and he finally had the confidence and momentum to keep her talking.

“I found one, it’s like 20 minutes from here. One-bedroom but it looks much better than my shit box in New York. And they are going to hold it for a while while i get my shit from back home” 

“What neighborhood?” Carmen’s heart leaped when she said the same neighborhood that he stayed in, but he controlled himself.

“That new building? I walk past it everyday.” Carmen didn’t offer to carpool because he didn’t want to hear a rejection. That would kill any confidence he might have gained in the last few weeks. 

“We're neighbors, that's nice. You have a car, can we carpool?” Carmen wondered if she could read minds. 

“I get here early and leave late-”

“I’ll just come and go when you do. I don’t have anything else to do in Chicago anyways…I booked a flight for tomorrow morning to get my stuff.” She moves fast Carmen thought. It was admirable how she knew what she wanted, planned her moves and executed them in record time. He wondered if she ever panicked and fumbled like he did, if she did he never saw it. 

“What time is your flight?”

“Seven” 

“I can drive you.” Y/n wondered if this was too much, she didn’t want to rely on him. 

“I’ll take a cab, you have to be here for Sydney.” She didn’t leave Carmen any room to argue. 

The next couple of months were much better than Carmen thought was possible. Y/n had engrained herself in their team, and Carmen was able to get his eight hours of sleep every night. They finally had enough money to not feel like the whole restaurant was going to crash and burn.

Sydney had brought up the idea of to-go orders placed through a tablet and after much deliberation and consulting with y/n, he decided to give it ago. 

Y/n had stepped out to sign for delivery and was making some pleasant conversation before she heard some commotion from the kitchen. She bid the delivery man a goodbye before walking in to see what the situation was. 

Y/n had never seen the kitchen in such chaos since her first day. Carmen's voice reverberated, barking out orders, while Sydney unleashed her own tirade upon Marcus for mishandling the cake cutting. Tension hung heavily in the air, thickening the atmosphere. It was clear to y/n that this wouldn’t end well. Jogging over to Sweeps, who thankfully wasn't completely overwhelmed, she learned that Sydney had messed up the to-go order settings, resulting in a barrage of pre-orders due within a few minutes. Y/n hesitated for a moment, positioning herself in a corner, desperately searching for a way to be of use amidst the chaos. With her limited culinary skills, she felt somewhat helpless, unsure of where she could provide the most assistance.

“Um, I’m doing them in five–” Sydney stuttered.

“No, no, stop. Fire everything right fucking now!”

“Step out.” He was interrupted by Sydney’s excuses.

“GET THE FUCK OFF MY EXPO, CHEF, NOW!” That made y/n jump, she heard him yell before but this was a lot worse, the shock made it impossible for her to look anywhere but the back of his head.  

Just as things looked like they couldn't get worse she heard a loud crash and saw two cakes on the floor. Y/n rushed over there to de-escalate and practically had to rip Sydney away from Richie.

“I said corner.” Richie said childishly. Y/n was starting to feel like a babysitter. And just as y/n was about to run over to her office to hide, she hears Sydney snap at Tina. Y/n guides Tina away from Sydney. 

“Somebody get me a fucking sharpie!” Carmen bellowed and y/n ran to the office and pulled out a few and placed them in front of Carmen then walked back to her little corner. She heard that Richie and Sydney were at it again, sensing that round two was going to be worse she had to go check on that mess. Sydney is harping on and on about how much of a loser Richie and y/n was forced to step in when she hears Sydney talk about Richie’s daughters while waving a knife. 

“What the fuck are you guys’ doing? We do not have the time for your asinine bullshit?” Sydney doesn’t even look over and y/n had to tug at Richie to get him to step down, normally y/n would appeal to Sydney’s good graces but she couldn’t go near her when she was waving a knife around. 

“Richie, why don’t we take a step back and-” y/n asked. 

“WHY ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME!” Y/n turned her head and saw Carmen squishing something Marcus gave him before throwing it on the floor. 

“Yo, Cousin, just fuckin chill-” Richie stepped back and even when she saw where the knife was headed she was to slow to do anything. Richie walked into the knife and blood started pouring out. 

Y/n felt her breath pick up, her palms started to itch, and she was seeing double. She fought her nerves and led Richie to the front where Ebra would dress his wounds. Y/n didn’t want to look at Richie’s bare ass but she had to make sure it wasn’t bad enough to warrant a hospital trip, it didn’t and y/n saw that as a complete win. 

Y/n ran back to the kitchen towards Sydney where she was sitting near the lockers. She was about to leave. 

“We need you, you can’t leave. Tell me what I need to do to fix this.” Y/n desperate, she knew the face of someone who had given up and she saw it all over Sydney. 

“He is being a little bitch.” Y/n didn’t know how to fix Carmen’s attitude so she did the next best thing, stall.

“Please, give me a day to fix this. I’ll have him come around and apologize, I'll make him regret even getting out of bed. Just please stay till this blows over. We need you. Please.” Y/n was beyond desperate, she couldn't stand doing Carmen’s job of managing his team but she forced herself to pull through. Sydney backed down and went to the sink to wash her knife before going back to prep. 

Y/n hears Carmen walk over to Sydney and ask, “We good, chef?”, who wasn’t responding. This bastard was so incredibly dense y/n almost wanted Sydney to blow up in his stupid face and maybe stab him in the ass too but she denied herself that pleasure and quickly diverted Carmen over to the expo. 

“Now is not the time. Do this later… Please.” Y/n was grasping at straws here and she wasn’t even given the satisfaction of being able to yell at someone. Carmen went back to his expo but not before bending down and eating something off the floor. He has definitely lost it, y/n muttered. 

She went to find Marcus who was just about to leave. She thanked him for today and apologized on Carmen’s behalf. Y/n didn’t want to be a bitch but Marcus was not high on her priority list right now, him leaving would let her deal with less people and make her job easier. 

She ran out front to check up on Richie again. “Please tell me you're okay.” He gave a small laugh and then a grunt. She saw that he was grasping an empty carton of cigarettes. 

Y/n didn’t know how, but the storm passed and the doors opened for customers. Y/n slipped out and bought a carton of cigarettes and some painkillers from a nearby gas station and handed them over to Richie.

“I know this isn’t even a good enough apology but I’m really sorry about today.”

“You didn’t do anything.” 

“You're not going to get an apology from Sydney for a while so let my apology be a placeholder.” Y/n rounded her eyes and tried to see if there was any residual tension from this morning and to her relief Richie was fine. 

“Tell me if you need something.” She then went back to the kitchen and Sydney was still cutting stuff and Carmen was yelling out orders with less fury. Y/n wasn’t going to have anything positive to say to either of them so she would wait till after the lunch rush. She slipped back to the front and sat on a bar stool with her laptop. She couldn’t face either of the chefs right now. 

Looking at Sydney was difficult, and the longer that y/n waited out front with Richie to make sure he didn’t die of blood loss while manning the front, the more pissed she got at Sydney for not having the decency to come out to check up on Richie or even apologize. 

Looking at Carmen was even more difficult, a part of y/n wanted to be proven wrong about her previous notions about pretentious chefs. But both Sydney and Carmen were the only one’s screaming and that because they felt like they were entitled to it, that they were the only ones who were allowed to be stressed and upset. They were selfish and that was a painful thing for y/n to admit about Carmen because that meant that his promise to change when she first came here was a lie. He couldn’t handle any type of stress without flipping out and she wondered if this was even the right profession for him. 

The lunch crowd died down and she directed Sydney towards her office and shut the door, “You want to tell me what happened today?” Y/n faked the sincerity, Sydney wouldn’t talk if y/n was hostile.

“Carmen was being a dick. Everyone else is dealing with the same shit but now…” Y/n didn’t want to hear anything else for her. 

“How is Richie?” Y/n asked with a bit of an edge. 

“He walked into my kni-” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“I don’t know, okay? But it was his fault,” Y/n had to remind herself to take a few deep breaths, she wouldn’t let her anger get the best of her and she would refrain from yelling.

“When you finish with your shift, can you please talk to Richie, at least pretend like you care that you stabbed someone.”

“He called me a bitch and was all over my station, he deserved it, ” 

“You deserved to be called more than a bitch.” Y/n regretted the words as soon as they came out but she wasn’t going to lose face. Sydney looked shocked but y/n kept her face stoic.

“Talk to him.” 

Sydney didn’t respond but y/n knew she wouldn’t talk to Richie. 

Y/n felt her blood bubbling, “You could move to fucking Timbuktu and be a chef there and you still wouldn’t rise above average, do you know why?” Y/n didn’t give her a chance to answer. 

“It's because you are the problem, you are selfish and you don’t think. You can quit here and never look back and you know what is going to happen next? You're going to find another job and then leave that job and then find another job and leave that one too and keep doing that till you die.” It was getting harder for y/n to breathe. It felt like the walls were closing in. 

“I have been gracious enough to give you the space to grow, I told Carmen to make you sous but every second that I take my eyes off either of you, it's like shit hits the fan. Are neither of you capable of doing your jobs?” Y/n was ranting. 

“If today was so bad that you have to make someone else's life miserable and then whine about yourself, you shouldn’t even be allowed to work in soup kitchens.” Y/n took a painful deep breath, her head was spinning and she was suppressing the urge to start dry-heaving. 

“You will forever be nothing unless you change, you are impatient, selfish, whiny, annoying, vindictive, and…and..” Y/n had to end on a good note or else Sydney might actually quit. 

“..capable of doing better. I have seen the way you cook and manage a kitchen when it's not a shit storm. I bet in a few years you're going to make Carmen’s food taste like MREs. You are destined for good things but that will only happen when you grow up.” 

Sydney was quiet before she stomped out of y/n’s office and slammed the door shut. 

Y/n sank down onto the floor, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. It was as if she had been transported back to New York, constantly juggling her and her co-worker’s workload and assuming the role of the villain. She desperately sought control, but the grip of the panic attack tightened its hold, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she fought to regain control over her racing thoughts. It was an exhausting battle, one that felt all too familiar. She grasped at the chair trying to stay up right but after a few moments of dizziness, she slipped to the ground. 

She was keenly aware that she couldn't single-handedly orchestrate transformative change in just a few short months but she thought that Carmen would at least learn to step up. She longed for a sense of calm and it burned to know that Carmen was incapable of being that for her now. The knowledge weighed heavily on y/n's heart. The realization that Carmen, the one person she had hoped could offer her some semblance of stability and support because he said he would, was not yet equipped to be that pillar for her. It was a painful acknowledgement, one that underscored the inherent instability that defined their dynamic. Carmen was not stable. 

Y/n took a few deep breaths, wiped her tears, and stood up after pushing her sadness and disappointment with Sydney and, more importantly, Carmen in a deep crevice in her mind. 

The kitchen had lost two chefs but it was still running smoothly because it was a slow day. Y/n discreetly circled the kitchen, she made a conscious effort to conceal the fact that her blood was boiling, striving to maintain composure amidst the chaos.

And just as she was about to retreat to her office, the man of the fucking hour decided to show up. 

“Bad news guys, we have to close for dinner today because we are having a bachelor party in the front.” Y/n looked at a few sips of water, she needed to ground herself and resist throwing the cup of ice water in his face. Carmen glanced up at her and was met with the same eyes from New York, the ones which were glaring at him, disgusted with him, hated him. Y/n walked over to the alley and Carmen followed her even when she didn’t ask. 

Y/n indicated that he sat down with a pointed look with her eyes, y/n stayed standing. 

“I was hired to be your accountant, but today I was playing babysitter for a bunch of grown fucking adults. Why am I walking around your kitchen and apologising to your fucking staff while you do absolutely nothing.” She took a staggered breath.

"They were goddamn pre-orders, for crying out loud! If they were a little late, it's not like a customer would barge into the fucking kitchen to hang you. You guys have already had a C health rating and got into a fight with some customers a while back, so clearly customer satisfaction isn’t the issue.” The corners of her eyes were turning hazy. 

“Why the hell do other people have to clean up your damn mess? How hard would it have been for you to tell Richie to inform the customers that the orders were going to be a bit late?” Carmen didn’t look up, keeping his focus on y/n’s shoes. 

“Not fucking difficult at all, its like…like you wanted an excuse to be a prick.”

“Its your fucking entitlement, you are just like Sydney. You are selfish and you will never amount to anything unless you learn to deal with your problems. I mean this in the most blunt and sincere way possible: go to fucking therapy. If money's a problem, I'll foot the bill. I want you to go there and let them throw every damn thing they have at you, from drawing pictures to giving you a fucking lobotomy." Y/n’s face was getting hot and she could feel her forehead burn up.

“You are running a kitchen in a shitty neighborhood with people who would be happy if you served them insulation in between two pieces of drywall, it has never and will never be that serious.” Y/n gave herself some time to breathe before giving him a little bit more. 

“You’re the head of the kitchen, you're supposed to be everyone’s support. You have to be…s-stable.” It was difficult for y/n to choke out that word, it hurt too much. “Your team shouldn’t have to walk on fucking eggshells when things get tough.”

“You promised me that you would do better, that is the whole reason I chose to stay. Did you know that I was going to tell you that I changed my mind after I accepted your job offer? I didn’t because you promised you would be better…do better.” Y/n knew there was some stuff she missed but she was exhausted and wanted to go back. She uncrossed her arms and knew that it was time to do some damage control again.

They stayed in silence for a long time before y/n let out a deep sigh, “I'm sorry, it's just… today was a lot when it really didn’t need to be.” Y/n sat down right next to Carmen, she gave him a few inches of space, he still wasn’t looking at her. 

Carmen did well with praise y/n recalled, “You are a very talented chef and you are great at organizing a kitchen but that's very different from managing a kitchen with people in it.” A silence passed through them and y/n gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Marcus was completely wrong and I don’t fault you for that. I know I would have done the same thing. What kind of idiot worries about donuts when everyone is asking you about cakes?”

“They were good.” Y/n almost missed it but she was glad she didn’t. That meant that she hadn’t completely broken him. 

“I bet they taste even better off the floor.” Y/n chuckled and even if Carmen doesn’t join her, he does pick his head up and look at her. The fact that she was still able to smile after ripping him to shreds was very reminiscent of many people in his life. He knew that she was probably right but he also knew that aspects of her criticism would keep him up at night for years to come

“Was I too much? ” Y/n asked.

“I needed to hear it…” Y/n let them stew in silence. 

“You need to find the root of your issues and fix them.” Y/n offered. 

“Are we good?” Carmen asked. Y/n was tempted to say yes so that they could move on but she had a feeling that was too easy for him. She worked hard today to be a force of stability and support for everyone and saying yes to Carmen’s question only comforted him. Y/n wanted to be comforted for once.

“No.” Carmen’s face betrayed his shock. 

“What can I do to fix it?” Carmen was desperate.

Y/n sighed before closing her eyes. Y/n didn’t respond because she didn’t know how either.  

Carmen felt a heat crawling up his chest, a sense of being trapped. He knew he could go back to Sydney, apologize, and promise to change, and they would be good. He knew that if he checked up on Richie, they would be good. He knew that if he swallowed his pride and prepared family dinner today, he would be in good standing with the rest of his team.

But Carmen was starting to realize that he didn’t really know enough about y/n to make this good. Carmen spent a lot of his time overthinking every minute detail of his life but no matter how hard he tried to come up with something to fix this, nothing seemed right. He couldn’t leave because he knew if he did that would be admitting defeat and that would ruin any friendship he earned with y/n but he couldn’t find the right words.

She couldn’t leave Carmen without it killing him. Her words echoed in his head and he tried to find a clue, something that would give him an opening to learn more about her so she wouldn’t leave the restaurant, leave him. 

“Why did you hate me? Back in New York.” It was a risk but it felt like his only option. Y/n parted her lips a few times, it was like she was formulating a response that wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t need her to comfort him, he needed to comfort her.

“Don’t lie, y/n.”

“I didn’t hate you.” Y/n conceded. 

“Don’t bullshit me. The way you looked at me-”. Y/n didn’t know that she was being that obvious.

“You were…I don’t…” Y/n realized she had placed Carmen in an impossible situation by asking him to fix something without providing guidance, as she herself didn't know how to rectify her past mistakes without any guidance.

“I was really unhappy with my job and I thought that if I had someone, if I had you, we could stick together. We used to come and leave work at the same time, we were polite, you seemed like a nice guy. We could have helped each other out, I wanted so badly to have someone to rely on. It was selfish of me to put that pressure on you, I shouldn’t have done that…” That was the diluted version of the story, y/n was willing to take the blame for everything in New York but Carmen didn’t look satisfied, so she continued. 

“I used to hand you your paycheck and you never made eye contact. I didn’t even know your eyes were blue until I had been working there for two months.” Carmen locked his eyes on y/n’s.

“I would try to talk to you and you never responded, I didn’t even know what you sounded like. You called me a few months ago and I didn’t even know it was you because you never said a word to me. I used to think that you thought you were too good to talk to me.” Carmen fiddles with his finders and y/n had to tear her eyes away from his hand so she could focus.

“I worked hard for a while to get close to you but you clearly weren’t interested. I took the hint and backed off. The looks were…immature and stupid but I couldn’t help it…I hated my job and you were an easy target. It's easy to hate something you know nothing about.”

“Do you hate me now?” Carmen whispered. 

“Not anymore.” Y/n responded softly. 

Carmen's shoulders visibly relaxed as he heard Y/n's response. Relief washed over him, mingled with a renewed sense of hope. 

Carmen replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I never wanted you to hate me. I just...you would look at me like that and it was one more reason that convinced me that I wasn’t fucking good enough for that job.”

Y/n had the daunting realization that she was one of the reasons why he left the French Laundry, why he left her. She felt extra guilt for yelling at Carmen for fucking up and being selfish when she did the same thing without knowing it. She blinked back some tears, she needed to hear this, even if it hurt. 

“I'm sorry, I was completely-.” 

“I used to be scared of you.” Carmen interrupted. Y/n sat up and raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” she asked in pure bewilderment.

“It felt like you were leagues ahead of me…it's like comparing an ant to…umm…” Carmen was struggling to spit something out, “divinity.” That made y/n widen her eyes and lean forward.

"I never saw you as beneath me, y/n. You were always on a higher plane, like we lived in different fucking planets." Carmen's voice held a touch of reverence, acknowledging the perceived disparity in their positions. 

“You were always so…perfect. I never saw you struggle. Even now, you pick things up fast, people like you, you are great at whatever you do, you never get mad for no reason.”

“People don’t like me and I did get mad for no reason, I just yelled at Sydney before I got to you.”

“We deserved it.”

"It wasn't my place. It's your kitchen, and I shouldn't have gotten involved." Carmen felt sick. She was distancing herself from the kitchen and from him. She was trying to run away and he couldn't let that happen.

“I wouldn’t have anything left if you left.”

“You would have been fine, you would have Sydney.” 

“But you…you…belong here. I can’t do this without you.” Carmen felt like she was slipping from his fingers and he was trying to grasp on to any part of her that he could convince to stay. 

“Give me a reason to stay, Carmen.” Y/n's whispered with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. She wasn't sure what words were left to be spoken, but she knew she had to say his name. Y/n wanted his name to swirl around her tongue, and imprint the feeling of his name leaving her lips. 

Y/n shifted her gaze, positioning herself to face him directly, and her eyes couldn't help but gravitate towards his slightly parted lips. It was clear that he had something to say, and she leaned in, eager to catch every word. In response, Carmen shortened the distance, drawn by the intimate proximity. It felt as if he was about to share a secret with her, a whisper that only they would hear.

With their faces mere inches apart, Carmen's right hand softly landed on the seat beside Y/n's thigh, subtly adjusting their positioning to align their faces. Y/n’s right hand began to rise, caressing his face tenderly. Y/n locked in with his cerulean eyes wondering if she was the only one feeling this. She tested the waters by running her thumb across his lips. They were a bit chapped from biting them all morning. 

Feeling the touch of Y/n's thumb on his lips, Carmen's breath caught in his throat. It was a gentle caress that sent shivers down his spine.

“We shouldn’t do this.” Y/n mumbled as she leaned in closer. 

Without breaking eye contact, Carmen reached up, gently cupping Y/n's face with his hand, his touch conveying tenderness and longing.

WIth a hoarse whisper, Carmen pleaded, “Kiss me, y/n.”

Y/n closed the gap and it was a collision of pent-up passion and aching yearning. Y/n's fingers tangled in Carmen's hair, pulling him even closer. Carmen’s thumb stroked y/n’s jaw and he couldn’t believe how soft her skin was. Their bodies pressed together, feeling the heat and intensity of their shared desire. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sensation of each other. Every touch, every gentle nip of their lips, fueled the hunger that had been building between them for so long. It was a kiss filled with the weight of unspoken words. 

Carmen didn’t want to pull away because he wasn’t sure if he would ever get another kiss, he wanted this one to last. He didn’t want to regret 20 years in the future not kissing for a few moments longer. 

Y/n, breathless and in need of a moment to regain composure, pulled away from the kiss. Soft gasps escaped her lips as she tried to steady her racing heart. Carmen, caught in a blissful daze, found himself unable to flutter his eyes open. Carmen remained in a suspended state, savoring the lingering sensation of y/n's touch.

Carmen’s phone buzzed and that wasn’t enough to ground him. He felt like he was floating. If he didn’t move and really focused, he could convince himself that he was still kissing y/n. 

He felt y/n’s hand slid up his apron and trail up his leg. Carmen's breath hitched, his senses heightened, as anticipation swirled in the air. He sat still, nervous to do something like this in public but if y/n wanted him to do something he would do it in a heartbeat. He trusted y/n completely, willing to follow her lead without hesitation.

Finally, Y/n's hand reached its destination, and Carmen's pulse quickened. Y/n pulled something out—his phone. 

Confusion flickered across his features as he watched Y/n's playful expression. Y/n was teasing him, realizing the momentary tension she had caused. Carmen's anxiety gave way to relief, his lips curving into a smile of his own. He completely forgot about the buzzing so she answered the phone for him and brought it closer to his ear. He took the phone from her hands ensuring that their fingers grazed. It was a small, subtle gesture, yet it held the power to ignite sparks of electricity that danced along his skin.

“Yo, cousin. Where the fuck are you?” 

“Why?” Carmen wanted to stay with her for longer but Richie, being a gigantic cockblock, was ruining that for him. 

“You're out past your curfew. Why do you think?” Richie remarked sarcastically. “You still have a job, you can't just sit around in an alley like some kind of fucking sewer rat.” 

“Richie, I swear to fucking good if the kitchen is fine and you dragged me back there for no reason, im gonna stab your other ass cheek.” Carmen waited till Richie started to talk back before hanging up on him, he was being petty. Carmen saw that y/n tucked her lips to prevent a laugh from escaping.

Carmen sat wordlessly, not wanting to leave just yet. Y/n stood up and Carmen followed her. As they stood face to face, Y/n's hands instinctively brushed his hair back into place, fixing any stray strands. With gentle precision, she smoothed out the wrinkles on his shirt sleeves and straightened his apron.

Y/n's finger traced lightly across his lips a few times, and a mischievous smirk fell on her lips. "Your lips are going to be a problem," she teased, a twinkle of amusement in their eyes. Carmen's mind momentarily scattered, unable to fully focus.

"Y/n?" Carmen's voice wavered slightly, his thoughts still clouded by desire. 

Y/n, sensing his internal struggle, mustered a playful yet firm resolve. "Go back to the restaurant, I’m still mad at you." she gently nudged him toward the alley exit with an addictive smirk. 

Carmen blinked, trying to gather his thoughts amidst the haze of longing. 

"But when-" Y/n interrupted, her voice filled with anticipation. 

"I'll see you in just a few minutes."

As he busied himself with checking on Richie and apologizing to Sydney, Carmen didn’t miss how y/n slipped inside and walked into the office.

Carmen was still pissed at Richie, who was counting the money in the drawer as they were about to close early to do family dinner.

“Why even bother calling if the place is empty, you dick?” Carmen said in a huff.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you sucking face with your new girlfriend.” Carmen’s jaw went slack.

“Carmy, you're so handsome.” Richie said in a hushed girly tone, mocking y/n’s voice. 

“How-” Carmen started.

“You left and y/n left and you both came back within 5 fucking minutes of each other.”  Carmen parted his lips trying to form a response. 

“You should learn to hide this stuff better. Your lack of girlfriends is catching up to you.”

__

End Notes:

This is purely experimental so I will most likely not write stuff like this in the future, but if people like it, who knows?

We can delude ourselves into thinking that Carmen would be boyfriend material, but he most definitely isn't. I wanted to write something with an unreliable y/n who complains that Carmen has all these anger issues, is domineering, doesn't listen to people, is controlling, is selfish, is extremely unstable, etc. However, she is exactly the same; she just doesn't realize it.

At the end of the day, Carmen meshes well with people who are similar to him, which is why he is close with Sydney and sometimes Richie (their shared love of Michael and The Beef). I wanted to write something where he pursues someone who has similar flaws as him. I guess it's up to you guys to figure out if it's the start of personal growth on both ends or if it's a doomed romance.

Part 2

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear fic #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmen carmy berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear hulu #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

[thelibraryghost]

A Young Person's Guide to 18th-Century Western Fashion

unabridged version at blogspot

General info Cox, Abby. "I Wore 18th-Century Clothing *Every Day for 5 YEARS & This Is What I Learned (Corsets Aren't Bad!)." YouTube. May 10, 2020. Cullen, Oriole. “Eighteenth-Century European Dress.” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2004. Glasscock, Jessica. "Eighteenth-Century Silhouette and Support." In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2004. Accessories Banner, Bernadette. "Women's Pockets Weren't Always a Complete Disgrace | A Brief History: England, 15th c - 21st c." YouTube. April 10, 2021. Colonial Williamsburg. "#TradesTuesday: Men's Accessories." YouTube. June 13, 2021. Murden, Sarah. "The Georgian era fashion for straw hats." All Things Georgian. December 6, 2018. Cosmetics & hygiene Cox, Abby. "I Followed an 18th-Century Moisturizer & Sunscreen Recipe & it kinda worked??." YouTube. February 21, 2021. Cox, Abby. "We tried making *5* different 250 year old rouge (blush) recipes || [real] regencycore makeup." YouTube. August 29, 2021. JYF Museums. "Hygiene in the 18th Century | From the Farm to the Army." YouTube. August 21, 2021. Décor Heckscher, Morrison H. “American Rococo.” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2003. Munger, Jeffrey. “French Porcelain in the Eighteenth Century.” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2003. Formal wear SnappyDragon. "This dressing gown changed fashion forever : the feminist history of going out in loungewear." YouTube. April 15, 2022. Stowell, Lauren. "The Many Types of 18th Century Gowns." American Duchess. March 15, 2013. Zebrowska, Karolina. "Cottagecore Style Is Much Older Than You Think." YouTube. June 30, 2021. Hair care Cox, Abby. "I made 250-year-old Hair Products Using Original Recipes (and animal fat...)." YouTube. November 7, 2021. Cox, Abby. "I tried a 300-year-old hair care routine for a year & this is what I learned (it's awesome!)." YouTube. January 23, 2022. Cox, Abby. "What's the Deal with 18th Century Wigs? (and why Bridgerton really messed this up)." YouTube. June 1, 2023. Laundry Cox, Abby. "Making 300 Year Old SLIME for Laundry Day." YouTube. June 15, 2023. Townsends. "Historical Laundry Part 2: No Washing Machine, No Dryer, Hit It With A Stick?" YouTube. June 3, 2019. Outer- & working-wear JYF Museum. "Getting Dressed | Clothing for an 18th Century Middling Woman." YouTube. March 18, 2021. Major, Joanne. "The practicalities of wearing riding habits, and riding ‘en cavalier’." All Things Georgian. March 12, 2019. Rudolph, Nicole. "What did Pirates ACTUALLY Wear? Fashion at Sea in the 18th c & Our Flag Means Death Costumes." YouTube. May 8, 2022. Shoes Chin, Cynthia E. "Martha Washington's Shoes." George Washington's Mount Vernon. No date. Murden, Sarah. "18th-century shoes." All Things Georgian. December 15, 2015. Rudolph, Nicole. "Real 18th century Shoes? Historical Shoemaker Examines an Antique." YouTube. December 13, 2020. Textiles Cox, Abby. "18th Century Printed Cotton Do's & Don't's." American Duchess. December 23, 2019. Stowell, Lauren. "Fabrics for the 18th Century and Beyond." American Duchess. June 14, 2021. Townsends. "Oil Cloth - Waterproof Coverings for Your Campsite." YouTube. July 30, 2018. Undergarments Major, Joanne. "Quilted Petticoats: worn by all women and useful in more ways than one." All Things Georgian. November 20, 2018. Rudolph, Nicole. "Making 18th century Stays for the Ideal Body Shape : Historical Undergarments." YouTube. August 12, 2023. SnappyDragon. "RUMP ROAST : Ranking historical fashion's wildest fake butt pads." YouTube. October 27, 2023. Townsends. "Sewing Histories' Most Popular Garment - The Fabric Of History - Townsends." YouTube. September 3, 2022.

#reference #history #abby cox #bernadette banner #fashion #hair care #hairstyle #youtube #video #nicole rudolph #townsends #us history #american history #colonial williamsburg #jamestown #georgian era #rococo #1700s #american duchess #mount vernon #bridgerton #the metropolitan museum of art #our flag means death

[marzipanandminutiae]

Regarding the anon who says Victorian literature needs more fat characters: do you happen to know how many fictional characters’ size is established? Do we KNOW that say Beth or Jo March wasn’t fat? (Not counting illustrations: I mean in the text itself.) I always pictured Georgiana Darcy as fat, but she’s not Victorian.

I forgot that anon. But you're right that the Victorian body ideal was a bit to one side of our current one.

Meg March is described as "plump" in Little Women, as is Diana Barry in Anne of Green Gables; both of them are supposed to be very pretty. And outside the world of literature, I've seldom seen a French fashion doll- meant to represent pretty little girls or beautiful ladies -without a little molded double-chin.

Few fictional heroines from that era are meant to be very fat- don't get me wrong; the Victorians definitely did have some toxic body standards and notions about women larger than those standards preferred (see also: Amy Lowell getting derisively called a "hippo-poetess") -but. There are several for whom it's a decided miscasting to let stick-thin Hollywood stars play them.

#ask #just-browsing-8675309 #victorian #classic literature #beauty standards #fatphobia mention

[sardonic-the-writer]

You van now marry me because I am interested in your tf2 headcanons

Tell me more please

so happy someone asked for this. giving your forhead a big fat smooch. also, i would habe included tracker in these, but i feel like that would have been a bit self pretentious

scout

• good artist. has drawn tom jones fanart before

• knows a little bit of french; his mom made him learn. also knows a few french songs because of this

• bisexual but battles with it a lot

• really appreciates his teammates and conciders all of them—except for maybe spy—to be his best friends

• terrified of medical procedures and terrible at hiding it

soldier

• brightest blue eyes you've ever seen

• wears underwear with the pattern of the american flag on them

• doesn't know it's not normal to have gay thoughts. literally would kiss a man sloppy style and then not understand why everyones looking at him. probably straight, but makes exceptions

• has had his hands cut off at least five times before. it's getting concerning at this point

pryo

• uses asl with their team and teaches those who don't know. they'll still use muffled sounds to communicate though

• has no gender actually. not trans, not cis, but a secret third thing

• aroace! latches so strongly onto platonic relationships though its actually insane

• attends bonfires with enigneer sometimes

• has a pair of onsie pajamas that they wear over their suit to bed at night

heavy

• is definitely in love with medic, no doubts to be had

• has a PHD in russian literature! a very smart fella, he just has trouble speaking his mind in english

• gay. so so gay. mlm all day

• the only merc to regularly check out books from teuforts library sans soldier. although he doesn't really check out books, he just yells at the librarian for not carrying sun tzu's the art of war

• sings little songs to sasha in russian

demomam

• has scars all over his chest from an accident with a grenade he had as a kid

• sends lots of post cards and souvenirs to his mom when he's on the job. he really loves her

• actually used to style his hair in dreads when he was a little bit younger, but just doesn't have time to do much with his hair anymore

• so casually bisexual; especially considering it's the sixties and seventies. takes interest in both men and women

• best friends with both his and the other teams soldier!

sniper

• his camper is such a mess all of the time. only ever cleans if he knows someone's going to be visiting, and even then there's a few stray piss bottles laying around

• plays poker & other card games with scout all the time. when they can't bet money, they'll end up using other things to play, like bullets or stray snacks

• thinks he likes both men and women. tries not to dwell on it too much since he gets anxious about it, but at the end of the day can't deny that he finds men attractive as well

• has a mug that says world's number one best sniper that miss pauling got him

engineer

• shortest mercenary r.i.p

• parental figure to pyro

• one of the only good cooks at the base. often ends up making dinner for everyone even if it's someone else's turn to cook that night

• has a prosthetic arm that he built from scratch & spends a lot of his time adding to/upgrading

• probably straight, but the biggest ally you'd ever meet

spy

• genderfluid. has a few lady disguises he's had to use before, and is just as comfortable in them as any other one of his disguises. definitely had gay sex with scouts mom before

• reverts to straight french when he gets irritated or upset

• heavily bisexual and very open about it with any of his partners. a man/womanizer

• the only merc with a sense of fashion to be frank. have you seen everyone else. soldier thinks being naked and covered in honey is the epitome of fashion for fucks sake

medic

• probably knows more about the medical field than any other doctor at the time. is actively dropping some medical talk & procedures that won't even be invented until a few decades later. he's fun like that

• owns one pair of regular clothes. everything else is lab coats and black pants. maybe a turtleneck or two if you're lucky

• super mega über gay for heavy. see what i did there

• also, i'd like to headcanon that he needs glasses because he's nearsighted of all things. it makes performing surgery hard without them

#tf2 #tf2 headcanons #medic #demoman #sniper #spy #scout #heavy #pyro #soldier #engineer #headcanons #sardonics moots #sardonic rambles

[feministsforkatemiddleton]

Royal Rota reporters and Meghan articles, circa 2019

Some posters pointed out that Charles and Camilla do leak while, William and Catherine do not. This is true. It is more nuanced than how the reporter to NYMag described it, and I'm guessing that's perhaps their experience versus other rota members.

Charles is notorious for leaking, especially against his sons, and is "friendly" with royal reporters.

However, I'd like bring up a different element here. The Sussexes and co. claim the rota was unfair to Meghan and portrayed her in a negative light. Well...let's look at a reporter of their ire, Rebecca English of the DailyMail, and some of the headlines of her reporting in 2019.

For example:

Prince Harry jokes about baby number TWO as he engages in rugby banter with Falklands veteran - while glowing Meghan tells guests: 'We're nearly there'

Meghan's fashion finale! Duchess of Sussex stuns in a blue Carolina Herrera gown as she joins her husband for a private meeting with King Mohammed VI on their last evening in Morocco

Meghan's fashion finale! Duchess of Sussex stuns in a blue Carolina Herrera gown as she joins her husband for a private meeting with King Mohammed VI on their last evening in Morocco

Touching moment Meghan glances down at her baby bump during an investiture ceremony in Morocco (before cheeky Harry jokes that he didn't realise she was pregnant)

Maternal Meghan makes a beeline for two adorable sisters who waited for TWO HOURS to catch a glimpse of 'the prince and princess' in Morocco

Meghan impresses schoolgirls in Morocco by talking in FRENCH - but embarrassed Harry apologises because he doesn't speak it, after Duchess of Sussex has henna tattoo to celebrate pregnancy

Pregnant Meghan dazzles in a flowing red Valentino dress covering her bump as she and Harry land in Casablanca ahead of three-day tour of Morocco where they will stay as guests of King Mohammed

Bun's the word! Meghan goes for a sleek topknot as she opts for an all-black outfit including a recycled Givenchy coat for university visit

Meghan's starring role! Duchess of Sussex is pretty in peach at the National Theatre as she makes her debut as royal patron after succeeding the Queen

oh and look here!

Palace staff are forced to spend hours moderating 'hundreds of thousands' of vile sexist and racist comments on Palace social media pages aimed at Kate and Meghan fuelled by rivalry between the duchesses' warring fans

The Markle sparkle! Meghan glitters in a £3,400 Roland Mouret gown and Diana's bracelet as she joins Harry for a charity performance by Cirque de Soleil at the Royal Albert Hall

Note: This was the night when allegedly Meghan told Harry she was struggling with her mental health, and he did nothing.

Joking well-wisher tells pregnant Meghan she's 'a fat lady' during her visit to a London animal welfare charity - but fortunately the Duchess sees the funny side

'We're ready, we're so excited': Moment Meghan couldn't resist revealing her due date to fans in Merseyside - and one claims she 'came straight out with it'

I'm having an April baby! Meghan lets slip to well-wishers during a walkabout in Birkenhead she is now SIX months pregnant – but doesn’t know if it’s a boy or a girl as she wants it to be a surprise 

Here one unflattering story, which is based on the incident when Meghan lashed out at a staffer that English herself witnesses while the Sussexes were on tour in Fiji. Again - this is what the press does. You don't do your job, you misuse their power, and they call you out.

Meghan's bodyguard to quit after just six months in the job - weeks after her PA walked out - as protection officers 'find the Duchess's wish to be "one of the people" challenging' 

More complimentary articles

Meghan shows how to dress to impress! Duchess gives fashion tips as she becomes patron of charity helping women get back to work - while wearing a £2,600 coat and a £1,700 handbag

How Meghan is 'incredibly relaxed' about her impending birth despite being up to a week overdue and facing having a hospital delivery instead of her dream natural home birth

Ha, fun side bar -- Amal Clooney getting an award from Charles.

Amal Clooney joins Prince's Trust charity as a figurehead for the first global youth campaign... with Prince Charles finding her 'deeply impressive' 

Juming forward to the South African tour -- which actually, the Sussexes did very well on.

Archie meets the Archbishop! Meghan Markle and Prince Harry take son to tea with veteran anti-apartheid campaigner Desmond Tutu whose daughter jokes: 'He's going to be a ladies' man!'

Meghan Markle conjures memories of Princess Diana as she wears a headscarf in public for the first time on visit to Cape Town mosque  

'He's the best dad!' Meghan Markle praises Prince Harry's parenting skills as he says she is 'the best mum' after they join in dance with South African children on latest stop in their African tour 

Meghan Markle is greeted by a very enthusiastic fan, 81, as she and Prince Harry visit Cape Town's poignant District 6 Museum before sitting down to a snack of traditional pastries and samosas

Prince Harry says he 'can't wait' to introduce son Archie to Africa as he, Meghan and the baby head off for a ten-day tour

'Meghan will inspire women, partly because she is black': University of Johannesburg professor praises Duchess of Sussex as she is greeted by excited students ahead of tonight's reunion with Prince Harry

Fit for a prince! Meghan Markle picks up some denim dungarees for Archie (and jeans for herself) before hugging starstruck girls as she visits Johannesburg art studio without her son or Prince Harry

Meghan Markle thrills a classroom of charity workers when she SKYPES them during Prince Harry's visit to a college in Malawi on the couple's African tour

Then the Sussexes went to Canada and announced that they would step back from royal duties, and it all went downhill from there because of their own actions.

ACTIONS = CONSEQUCNES.

#princess catherine #team wales #british royal family #princess of wales #prince william #sexism #brf

[ravenkinnie]

when I say I like feral women it's like people think I mean sassy women and like no I mean I like when female characters are fully disconnected from reality. they are the entire dsm, hearing voices, god speaking to them over the radio static, living in someone's basement because they got blocked on instagram. when cersei thought her ladies in waiting were spies because her dresses felt too tight and she convinced herself they are doing it deliberately so she believes she's getting fat and also that tyrion lives in her walls, THAT'S what I'm talking about. I don't wanna see quirky mcu remarks or sexy french depression, only derangement

#mine

[im2tired4usernames]

@oceanlaceagate

Well ok you asked for explaining so I'm so sorry about the rant that's bound to happen I have beef with this woman like many many MANY homeschool co-op mothers I would like to meet her IN THE PIT

uh I guess trigger warning possibly would be like food diets and possibly eating disorders I'm not sure but I would rather be safe then accidentally harm you friend?

my mother was a crunchy homeschool nutter and her entire social group was crazy homeschool mom cultists.They were all obsessed with clean godly eating and losing weight they constantly kept repeating that they needed to treat their bodies like temples and it really wasn't healthy or good for so many reasons.

well one of the women in that group for as long as i can remember (I've know this lady since I was a lil kid) she believes it's impossible for European women to get fat because of *spins the wheel*

She just has some fucked up made up facts about Europe in general like WARNING SHE'S ACTUALLY ON PURPOSE STUPID

like she has for as long as I can remember believed with E V E R Y FIBER in her body (i have argued so much with her she will not budge in her world this is fact) no one once they hit preteens in france eats bread.

France home of the croissant, baguette and many other carbs bready bakery wonders...

Yeah no one there eats bread that is why French women are so thin and healthy they don't eat bread or any kind of sweets! (She and my mom then tried to make me do that for a bit they were always "suggesting" diets on me it sucked in expecting the thm diet and the melted butter+coffee+ apple cider vinegar diet to have fucked up my body somehow)

Apartly in her world no one in Ireland uses any kind of fat when I asked her to explain wtf that meant she said no one in Ireland uses oil or butter which like..

No that makes no sense where did she even come up with that?!I

Once I took a picture of like some fancy imported butter from Ireland at the store to show her and she and the other moms all straight up walked away and would not look at it. They would not talk to me kept actually doin the "talk to the hand" thing and covering their ears and telling me I'm wrong and stupid and to shut up they will not look at the evidence.

This woman is in her late forties to early fifties she has convinced half the homeschool mother cult that no one in France eats bread with no evidence other then she said so!!!!!

They honest to God believe it also!!!!

Recently she was trying to tell me that no one in the UK eats chicken that it's "looked down on as a disgusting poor man's food" she just went on n on on this long crazy rant that made no sense at all but she acted like she was very intelligent and cultured for knowing this.

My best friend and wife is from the UK and frankly i quickly asked them and they were able to point out this lady is just batshit insane.

Like my wife mentioned there's Nandos everywhere in the UK and that serves chicken mainly I have no clue where she's getting her info or ideas.

She got super angry amd defensive and has gone off saying she has two sources "two very reliable very real and very British people who totally aren't made up there her real Facebook friends that told her yup no one in the uk eats chicken only the USA makes fried chicken poor England is missing out on chicken because they're a bunch of snobs who think it's poor people food" so that's what she believes despite a lot of common sense and evidence to prove otherwise but "how dare I question an elder?!'

I really can't explain it like there's no logic or facts in it I myself don't understand it? I have gotten into many fights with this women.

So many fight

so so so many fights

Stupid amounts of fights

not just over this but like over everything under the sun I swear this woman is living a different reality then everyone else.

she just makes stuff up on a fly and then somehow convinces herself and like a dozen other women in they're 40s-50s that everyone in Europe is significantly skinner because they just happen to not eat the food that one lady dislikes...

like I can't really explain more then that this woman has no evidence, refuses to listen to evidence and has the firmest faith in stupidity I've ever seen it's truly kinda terrifying i wish i had her self confidence but also just wow....

I don't think that she's normal I think a lot of American children do actually learn about other countries? I learned about other countries when I was really young my mom would focus on one a month and then I'd have to do a lil presentation at the end of the month in front of my grandad and we'd cook a meal with some traditional foods from there if possible I had a lot of fun learning recipes from all over the world and we'd get a monthly cd with music from all over the world it was so cool! one of my favorite games when I was little with my grandad was he'd spin the globe point at random n then i had to say thw county, the capital, a famous food item from there and one history fact is famous person if I knew one and it was SO MUCH FUN!!!

maybe it's a new homeschool thing or a church thing or maybe this lady is just straight up purposely stupid I'm not sure? I have no fuckin clue this woman is insane I avoid her every chance I can.

#rants #ignore me I'm stupid #just yeah #she was one of my mom's bffs and lord she made life hell #Narnia a book written by a Catholic man with DJ much religious imagery and symbolism in every single book in the book series #and progressively gets more n more christan the further into the series you get #was evil and satanic #she yelled at me for liking old yeller #she was CRAZY #but the scary thing is she got a lot of women believing her every word especially European diet shit it was CRAZY #only Americans have addresses no one else dose i guess according to her she got my grandma to believe that for a bit until i pointed out #THE MILLIONS OF BOOKS WRITTEN BY A BILLION AUTHORS ALL OVER THE WORLD THAT MENTION ATREET NAMES AND ADDRESSES #LIKE EXAMPLES PRIDE N PREJUDICE AND SHERLOCK HOLMES HABE ADDRESSES MENTIONED #JUST TWO BOOKS NOT WRITTEN BY AMERICAN OR RECENT WITH ADDRESSES #that got my gran to think a bit but that lady thinks they must have been influenced by Americans aomehow shes SO STUPID IT FILLS ME W RAGE #her daughter told me jesus didn't eat seafood and seafood was unbibical #i.... I do not understand #like do you know where jesus lived do you know what some of his friend's jobs was or like the sermon on the Mount #dis you not read the Bible? why you mad ay me for eating all the time #now that i think of it a lot of times her crazy food things tend to be things i was currently eating kr talking about that i enjoyed eating #huh #weirdo lady #she yelled at me for eating two Oreos once #like yeah i wasn't being greedy but yeah she really got mad over that #now that my mom's passed she texts me randomly because she misses my mom n i think she wants me to fill the void i feel kinda bad for her #but i can't #i can't be her friend not after the shit she influenced my mom too be so cruel to me in the name of God growing up #i will not be her friend #that and she's stupid ofcorse people eat chicken bread and butter that's kinda the most basic human foods i feel like #EVERYBODY HAS BREAD EVERYWHERE BREAD IS THE MOST HUMAN THING

[yourlocaltrashpandaxoxo]

Punch Out Women's Bracket OCs! (Special Circuit)

The boys had their turn so now it's time for the girls! They're back and better than ever! Names: Nessie Twins/Moira and Fiona McNessie Ages: 30 (both) Heights: 6'6 (Moira) and 6'5 (Fiona) Weights: 164lbs (Moira) and 162lbs (Fiona) Nationalities: Scottish (both) Position: #4 Special Circuit Record: 20-14 (16 KO) Stances: Southpaw (Moira) and Orthodox (Fiona) "A pair of brutish twins hailing from Glasgow, Scotland, these two have an illegal tag-team trick in the ring that earned them a place so high up the bracket. The WVBA haven't bothered to intervein with this as it brings a larger audience, albeit an audience that likes to boo the twins for their boorish personalities and antics. They don't care, though, as they just smugly tell the fans to 'kiss their fat hairy arses'. Charming..."

Name: Jubilee Justice/Giselle Aurora-Belle Felicity Lockridge Age: 28 Height: 5'8 Weight: 131lbs Nationality: British-French Position: #3 Special Circuit Record: 15-8 (10 KO) Stance: Orthodox (Right-Handed) "Giselle may appear to be your average fairytale princess at first glance but do not be fooled by that gorgeous white gown and innocent blue eyes. For, when she steps into the ring, she strips herself of her fancy attire and into an elegant but optimal fighting outfit as her boxing persona, Jubilee Justice! Her parents hate that their little lady loves such a rough and tumble sport but she couldn't give a stuff what they think. Her older sister, however, is very supportive of her and gets most of the castle staff to cheer her on" Name: Nile Blossom/Cleo Jamila Omorose Age: 22 Height: 5'7 Weight: 126lbs Nationality: Egyptian Position: #2 Special Circuit Record: 20-14 (14 KO) Stance: Orthodox (Right-Handed) "A captivating young heiress from a wealthy Egyptian family, Cleo may appear to be a sweet young lady but that's just part of her game plan when she's in the ring. She bears a stunning flower on her head that produces a sweet-smelling pheromone that lowers the guard of anyone who inhales it. When her opponent is blissed out and unaware of what goes on, she strikes them like the thorns of a beautiful rose" Name: Celestia Age: ??? Height: ??? Weight: ??? Nationality: ??? Position: #1 Special Circuit Record: 24-8 (18 KO) Stance: Southpaw (Left-Handed) "Nobody can get a read on this unusual lady. Nobody knows where she's from, how old she is, if she's even a human or not... All of it is shrouded in a thick coat of mystery. People can figure out one thing, though, and that's that this lady bears some out of this world psychic powers that she isn't afraid of using during matches. She's intimidating to most but children to see something of a motherly figure inside of her." Name: Creep Queen/Jasmine Black Age: 28 Height: 7'2 Weight: 224lbs Nationality: ??? Position: Special Circuit Champion/Champion of the WVBA Record: 30-2 (26 KO) Stance: Orthodox (Right-Handed) "A hulking beast of a woman who stands laughing proudly at the top of the list, Jasmine pridefully holds onto the title of the WVBA's female champion and won't bow down to anybody else, no matter their status or name. She's a spiteful brute who prefers to let her fists do the talking when someone's pissing her off and makes sure her creepy little brother, Grimm, gets his way. However, this personality seems to have been made by a very difficult and abusive childhood..."

#punch out #punch out oc #nessie twins #jubilee justice #nile blossom #celestia #creep queen #special circuit chicks #(THE LAST OF THE GIRLIES!)

[submissivegayfrenchboy]

03 / 06 / 2023

🇬🇧🇺🇲 ENGLISH / ANGLAIS 🇬🇧🇺🇲

I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU

I WANT A BLACK BOYFRIEND SO MUCH!!!

I have already said it 1000 times and I will say it again 1000 more if necessary. I don't have a specific type of men, I could be in a relationship with old, Arab, fat, White, poor, Asian men,... So I'm not saying i will not date a White or Asian or Arabian or Latino or Indian, Oceanian man. So I'm not saying i will not date a White or Asian or Arabian or Latino or Indian, Oceanian man. So I'm not saying i will not date a White or Asian or Arabian or Latino or Indian, Oceanian man.

Nevertheless, when I see a big muscular black man, I am totally mesmerized by her beauty. Black men have this natural beauty, this self-confidence, a sense of humor, a sexy attitude, and of course a dream body (full lips, bulging muscles, plump ass, deep voice,... and I'm not even talking about their beautiful black cocks which are the best...).

If I want a black man in my life so much, it's because....well, actually, I couldn't really explain it. Is it because of my insatiable consumption of interracial pornography that has brainwashed the fragile white boy that I am? Is it because of the undeniable interracial propaganda where black women and white men are made invisible just to show that the most beautiful and pure love is between a black man and a white woman? Is it because nowadays black men are valued, sexualized to show their superiority, and it's forbidden to say something against them if you don't want to be seen as racist? Do I crave a black man because of my failed experiences with white men who failed to seduce me? Do I crave a black man because I'm attracted to fictional characters or celebrities who are black? The list could go on and on, and these answers are all corrects. But the reason why I crave a black lover so much is much more simplistic.

I'm very attracted to the idea of ​​having a black lover because I'm drawn to contrast and a black man provides the most contrast. I am a short, skinny 22 year old white boy, not muscular and not athletic, a bit effeminate and sexually submissive. I don't see myself going out with someone who looks like me because I want a difference in my life to get out of my comfort zone. You understand ?

I even drawn my ideal gay interracial couple.

More than the protection and the promise of amazing sex that the idea of ​​being with a big muscular black male offers, I like the idea of ​​discovering someone who will offer me other points of view on the world because of his culture, the values ​​of his education...

I obviously hope that we will have points in common, but I would like a black man to be his, to take care of him and because I would like that he feels good and comfortable with me. Well, I could talk about this for a long time but I needed to put this in writing.

If you are a black man attracted to little white boys or if you are white (man or woman) and you like black people, do not hesitate to like, comment, or come and talk about it with me by messages. 😘

♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

🇨🇵 FRANÇAIS / FRENCH 🇨🇵

J'AI QUELQUE CHOSE À VOUS DIRE

J'AI TRÈS ENVIE D'UN PETIT AMI NOIR !!

Je l'ai déjà dit 1000 fois et je le dirais encore 1000 autres s'il le faut. Je n'ai pas de type précis d'hommes, je pourrais être en couple avec des hommes vieux, Arabes, gros, Blancs, pauvres, Asiatiques,....

Donc je ne dis pas que je ne pourrais pas être avec un homme Blanc, Asiatique, Latin, Arabe, Indien, Oceanien.... Donc je ne dis pas que je ne pourrais pas être avec un homme Blanc, Asiatique, Latin, Arabe, Indien, Oceanien.. . Donc je ne dis pas que je ne pourrais pas être avec un homme Blanc, Asiatique, Latin, Arabe, Indien, Oceanien....

Néanmoins, quand je vois un grand homme noir musclé, je suis totalement hypnotisé par sa beauté. Les hommes noirs ont cette beauté naturelle, cette confiance en eux, un humour, une sexy attitude, et évidemment un corps de rêve (lèvres charnues, muscles saillants, cul bien rebondi, voix profonde,... et je ne parle même pas de leurs belles bites noires qui sont les meilleures...). Si j'ai autant envie d'un homme noir dans ma vie, c'est parce-que.... et bien en fait je ne saurais pas vraiment l'expliquer.

Est-ce en raison de mon insatiable consommation de pornographie interraciale qui a lavé le cerveau fragile du garçon blanc frêle que je suis ? Est en raison de l'indeniable propagande interraciale où l'on invisibilise les femmes noires et les hommes blancs juste pour montrer que l'amour le plus beau et le plus pur est entre un homme noir et une femme blanche ? Est-ce parce-que de nos jours les hommes noirs sont valorisés, sexualisés pour montrer leur supériorité, et qu'il est interdit de dire quelque chose contre eux si on ne veut pas passer pour raciste ? Est-ce que j'ai envie d'un homme noir à cause de mes expériences rates avec des hommes blancs qui n'ont pas su me séduire ? Est-ce que j'ai envie d'un homme noir parce-que je suis attiré par des personnages de fiction ou des célébrités qui sont noirs ?

On pourrait continuer la liste longtemps, et toutes les réponses ici sont correctes. Mais la raison pour laquelle j'ai si envie d'un amoureux noir est beaucoup plus simpliste. Je suis très attiré à l'idée d'avoir un amoureux noir car je suis attiré par le contraste et que un homme noir offre le plus de contraste. Je suis un garçon blanc petit et maigre de 22 ans, pas musclé et pas sportif, un peu efféminé et qui suis soumis sexuellement. Je ne me vois pas sortir avec quelqu'un qui me ressemble car j'ai envie de différence dans ma vie pour sortir de ma zone de confort. Vous comprenez ? Plus que la protection et la promesse d'un sexe incroyable qu'offre l'idée d'être avec un grand mâle noir musclé, j'aime l'idée de découvrir quelqu'un qui m'offrira d'autres points de vue sur le monde en raison de sa culture, des valeurs de son éducation...

J'espère évidemment que nous aurons des points communs, mais j'aimerais un homme noir pour être à lui, prendre soin de lui et car j'aimerais qu'il se sente bien et à l'aise avec moi. Voilà, je pourrais en parler longtemps mais j'avais besoin de mettre cela par écrit.

J'ai même dessiner mon couple interracial

Si vous êtes un homme noir attiré par les petits garçons blancs ou si vous êtes blanc (homme ou femme) et que vous aimez les noirs, n'hésitez pas à liker, commenter, ou venir en parler avec moi par messages. 😘

♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️♥️♠️

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

@gayhopefullove @intergaycial @interracial-attractions @whiteboynl1 @blackmaster4slave @interracialkissing @bat-woodfeet-us @blackmansbitch @whiteboiseekingblackmaster @whiteboynl1 @whiteboy4blacks @blackmaster100 @whiteteenpet2serveblacks @gaywrites @gayloveislove @gaylove @whiteboiforbnwo @gayloveandotherdrugs @bnwoplan @bnwo @bnwoserverworld @bnwo-whiteboi-blog @snowbunnysfantasies @snowbunnyblair @interracialpigfarms @ir-4-life @ir-beauty @blacksuperiororer @blacksupremacysa @blacksupremacyforever @innerpiratefun @lovefanfiction01 @rainykpoptravelcreator @leftprogrammingroadtripdean @tidodore2 @fartsandotherstink2 @fartfagoutlet @delicateaestheticwritingmug

#Interracial #J'ai quelque chose à vous dire #I have something to tell you #White boy #Garçon blanc #Black lover

[jessreadsandreads]

Ooh, yay, my first Tumblr tag game, thank you @aesethewitch! How did you know that I wanted to refresh and resume using my social stuff! :) Also, I love, love, love learning fun facts about people, so, bonus.

are you named after someone? No, I'm basically the only person on my mother's side of the family who is NOT named after St. Mary.

what sports have you played? I've never played any - I was the girl in high school with a reputation for being a lesbian and a witch, because I was home every night role-playing online instead of socialising, long-distance dating a dungeon-master, and playing Dance Dance Revolution for hours as my form of exercise. Funnily enough, I didn't actually dabble in witchcraft or dating women until I'd fled my hometown. Oh, but I did used to lift weights in the garage with my dad while blasting classic rock - that's almost a sport! It's a montage, at the very least!

do you use sarcasm? Not anywhere close to as often as I used to. Now I prefer silly word-play and even sillier voices, ridiculous sound effects, and exaggerated facial expressions.

what is the first thing you notice about people? Ever since I started working a sales job in a cosmetics store, the first thing I notice is the health and overall condition of people's skin and hair. My GOD did everyone have fried hair in a lot of old slasher movies!

what's your eye colour? Dark, dark brown.

scary movies or happy endings? Scary movies every time!

any talent? I don't really feel like I have any special talents, but my most consistently received compliment is for helping people feel heard, safe, and protected. I'm super proud of the fact that colleagues will come to me if they need someone between them and a frightening person or situation - I work in a major downtown area, so it happens more frequently than it should - or if they spot someone else nearby who needs any type of help. I definitely want to grow that aptitude in various ways. It's also really, really funny to me, because I'm 5'3", fat, and soft-spoken, and yet also the shop guardian!

what are your hobbies? My primary hobbies throughout my time off from work have been watching loads of movies, reading a lot of spicy romantasy, and trying out all sorts of new recipes, but I'd like to include more walks around the city, more decluttering and decorating, and more dedicated writing now that my energy levels are beginning to rise. Plus, I want to attain a conversational level of French, because I'm surrounded by cute francophones now!

do you have any pets? My chubby li'l geriatric baby kitty Lucy! She's my one and only - I don't see myself owning pets again after her - but I adore her and give her everything I humanly can. :)

how tall are you? Technically, I'm 5'3".5.

dream job? As of last night, I've been randomly fixated on considering becoming a massage therapist, but if I'm really fantasizing, I would combine it with becoming a registered dietitian, professional tarot and/or tea leaf reader, and romance novelist. Ideally, I could continue getting paid to rest at home and do whatever I want, but that deal expires with the cancer that I've almost finished officially removing from my body. X)

I'm only going to, very pointedly, tag @rosewitch89 to see if I can bully you into being active. ;) But I'd genuinely love to read answers from any mutuals!

[cantstopbing3ing]

Tomorrow I'm going to buy some leeks and do the magic leek soup thing from French Women Don't Get Fat. I need some kind of reset because I am so stuck in a binge cycle right now. I'm also going to start fasting after 6 pm instead of eating right up to the end of the day. I want to use my evenings after work for other shit, not wasting all that time on eating and then feeling like garbage.

#thinspo #thiinsp0 #thinii #thiinspii #thiinpso #cantstopbing3ing #skinnni #th1n$po #thin$po #thinsp0 #thiinspo #an0r3xic #an0rexic #ana rules

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

The only typically romantic show/movie/whatever that I can stand is the Vicar of Dibley episode The Handsome Stranger. Richard Armitage falling head over heels for Dawn French, oh my god, I love it every time I see it.

And I totally see Frankie and fat!reader in this. Reader has settled for being lonely for the rest of their life, Frankie stumbles into their life and is immediately smitten, there is a dramatic turn, and then a very surprising proposal. (The mix-up where Geraldine thinks he wants her to officiate when he asks her to marry him is hilarious.)

And then they live happily ever after. I don't usually go for this shit, but with the Geraldine and Harry I fucking love it. It's probably because I don't see women built like French get blokes like Armitage too often. It makes me so happy.

#frankie morales au #the vicar of dibley

[bigcutiebonnie]

It seems like you're one of those unique and amazing women to whom it's not only ok during sex to playfully say "Oh, my God, you got so fat" and "Your belly is so big I can't even kiss you!" "Haha, you're so fat!" And both of us laughing. "Yes, I did put on a couple of pounds!" And me responding with another cupcake pushed into your chubby face. Trying to get 5,000-7,000 calories into you daily.

But what about -

"It's really gross, honestly. A young girl should be fit and slim, and look at you. Without your head, your body seriously looks like you're 45 years old, all stretched out and saggy. So nasty. Ewww." (but you know I don't mean it)

Hot? Not?

Slap my face?

Or say "Yes! Yes! Tell me again! Tell me I'm a stretched out, lumpy, overstuffed porker while you hold me down and take me. Feed me so I am DISGUSTINGLY overweight and an object of disbelief in public in too-small clothes, or waddling on the beach. Let's go show me off at the mall with a BLAP of fat hanging over my jeans and get me a giant shake and french fries even though I just ate 45 minutes ago."

(crush) ❤️

Love a bit of fat shaming 😍

[dear-indies]

Can't make any promises, but if you slap some names for fat and/or disabled down and where to find them...

Hey anon! Thank you so much for offering but please remember that there's no pressure to make them! I don't know where to get media but I'd suggest joining @supportcontentcreators' server as they have a section for that. Here are some people who have been in popular media that you should be able to get your hands on them easily though:

Taylor Wily (1968) Samoan - is in Hawaii 5-0.

Daryl Mitchell (1965) African-American - is paraplegic, is in Fear the Walking Dead and NCIS: New Orleans.

Selene Luna (1971) Mexican - has dwarfism, is in Mayans M.C.

Nick Frost (1972) - is in The Nevers, Into the Badlands, and Why Women Kill.

Dana Gourrier (1979) African-American - is in The Hateful Eight, Interview with the Vampire, and Raising Dion.

Chrissy Metz (1980) - is in This is Us.

Beth Ditto (1981) - is queer - is in Monarch.

Jolene Purdy (1983) Japanese / English, Scottish, Irish, German, at least 1/8 Ashkenazi Jewish - is in Firefly Lane and a movie that's going to be out called Unseen.

Ryan O'Connell (1986) - has cerebral palsy and is gay - is in Spacial and Queer as Folk.

Atkins Estimond (1987) Afro-Haitian - is in Hightown.

Melanie Field (1988) - is queer, and is in A League of Their Own.

Britney Young (1988) African-American / European - is in GLOW.

B.K. Cannon (1990) - is in Why Women Kill.

Samson Kayo (1991) Nigerian - is in Our Flag Means Death.

Madison Ferris (1992) - has muscular dystrophy, is in Panic.

Bronwyn James (1994) - is queer - is in Harlots.

Esmeralda Soto (1998) Mexican - The Most Beautiful Flower.

Lauren “Lolo” Spencer (35+) African-American - has ALS, is in The Sex Lives of College Girls.

Here are people with youtube content too:

Jack Black (1969) Ashkenazi Jewish / German, as well as Northern Irish, Scottish, English, remote French and Welsh (converted to Judaism).

Anna O'Brien (1984)

Sarah Rae Vargas (1988) Mexican.

Stevie Boebi (1988) - has EDS and PoTS - is a lesbian.

Jessica Kellgren-Fozard (1989) has hypermobile EDS with marfanoid phenotype causing blindness in one eye and deafness - is a lesbian.

Nabela Noor (1991) Bangladeshi.

Thais Carla (1991) Brazilian.

Shane Burcaw (1992) - has spinal muscular atrophy.

Molly Burke (1993) - is blind due to retinitis pigmentosa.

Lewis Capaldi (1996) - has Tourette's syndrome.

Taylor Reilly (1997) - has chondrodysplasia punctata which caused scoliosis, trouble breathing, and unilateral deafness.

Kaiit (1997) Papuan / Gunditjmara, Torres Strait Islander - is non-binary and uses she/he/they.

Let me know if you'd like more specific suggestions!

#fc help #rph #rpc

[pagesofkenna]

I'm often struck by comments made in Maintenance Phase (the a wellness debunking podcast) but I was listening to an episode this week and was struck by this section and I don't have an audio editing program currently so I typed it all up

(M=Michael, A=Aubrey, from the episode "'French Women Don't Get Fat'" where they discuss that book. CW, this is a book that basically prescribes an eating disorder)

M – -But then, I mean—in between the lines, what you’re getting is, this is a woman who can basically sit down in a weekend and write 140 pages about food, and wine, and the places she likes to eat, and the farmer’s—the specific farmer’s markets in [Paris, France] that she likes going to. But then all of her actual advice is this way to, like, deny herself pleasure. It seems that she spent her life constantly thinking about this!

A – Yeah, in some ways I do wonder about this whole diet book being, like, a letter to her dad.

M – Oh?

A – “I did it! Look how much I did it! I did it so much!” Do you know what I mean? Like, that stuff stays with people, those experiences of body policing, and unwanted comments, and, like, judgements.

M – Yeah.

A – I often wonder this when I’m reading diet books, is like ‘how much of this is you continuing to differentiate yourself from either fat people (which is, like, all of them are that), and/or some past bad experience of feeling like someone else was judging your body, to be like, “No I did it the most! I’m the best at being thin, I’m the best at avoiding these judgements, and you can’t get me now, because I did it perfectly,” right?

M – Right!

A – I have a lot of compassion for it, and that unleashes a whole new wave of garbage people doing garbage things, right?

M – What I was really struck by, reading this, was how, like, how desperate people are for this stuff, that somebody can basically spend decades of their life denying themselves one of their primary pleasures, just so that they can stay thin. That’s how much of a hold this stuff has on our society, that like an individual would do this, and would effectively just live with deprivation.

A – Yeah.

M – She talks about, you have to make yogurt the night before, she makes sure to drink a huge glass of water 30 minutes before she eats every time, she goes for a walk before breakfast, she lives on the fifteenth floor of some building in New York and she often takes the stairs up. She talks about making her own copies so that she has an excuse to get up and walk around during the day. She’s thought about this every single day for her whole life, and she’s essentially prescribing this as, like, “This is, this is what you should do!”

A – Yeah, “This is how you should live your life!”

M – Right! Once you really get down to it, it’s just, this is a calorie restriction diet that you’re on for the rest of your life.

A – Right. She’s not counting calories, but it is very intensely about restricting calories by restricting high-calorie foods and by restricting kind of all foods! Just eat that leek water!

M – Right! And staying thin should almost become like a part-time job that you have, right? Like it’s this thing that occupies so much of your time. She says that you should only eat out on special occasions, you should always eat in—I mean, I, I could list fifty more of these! It’s just, like, the ways that she has adjusted her life, to remain thin.

A – If you’re not eating out and you’re only eating in, like, eating out is often a social activity. That may also mean, for her, that she’s restricting her social opportunities, or that that’s what she’s recommending to other people, or that that’s how other people are taking it. Right? It’s like, you can’t be around other people when food is present, which is many of the times that we gather together as humans, there is food present! This is calling for not just a reorganization of the foods that you eat but a reorganization of your life and your connections to other people, and it just… is so bizarre to market this level of restriction, and judgement, and everything else, as, like, “Easy breezy! You’re gonna love the food! It’s all the leek water you can eat!”

#maintenance phase #health #dieting #the talk about the harms of restriction is stuff I'm used to hearing from them - though it was a really good discussion this time too #but aubrey's specific comment about this entire book being a letter to her dad #who the author said 'opened her eyes' to feeling she needed to lose weight... by being a massive douchebag to her??? #like that was an insight i wasnt anticipating