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incorrectbatfam · 6 months

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Batfam as made-up facts

Dick: The biggest biohazard in public swimming pools isn't the kid that peed in it, but rather the body oil from all the swimmers accumulating over time. Not only is oil not neutralized by pool chemicals such as chlorine, but it also floats to the surface and is the first thing you make contact with when you jump in the water. This is why a lot of public pools ask people to shower beforehand.

Jason: Making new memories is simply the process of our brains creating and reinforcing new neural connections. Traumatic or impactful events see denser myelination in the hippocampus (brain's memory center) and it's theorized that when we die and our "life flashes before our eyes," there's more activity in those denser regions leading to more vivid images of those moments.

Tim: Klondike's Equation is one of the lesser-known unsolved mysteries in math. It's a branch of calculus that takes Olivar's Laws of four-dimensional derivatives and creates a paradoxal equation by which the right half of it cannot be fully written if the left half is unsolved, but the left half needs values from the right in order to be computed.

Damian: The oldest interactive/roleplaying game dates back to the ancient Sumerians, according to records. It consisted of a theater of clay puppets that the audience would chime in with how they should act. It was often performed at bars or taverns during holidays with stories themed around mythical deities or fables.

Duke: In 1982, Bill Watterson brought to Archie Comics a standalone concept of a child hero and a sentient animal companion. However, he was rejected in favor of the up-and-coming Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles story. After shopping around at companies and getting lots of rejections, Watterson finally found his big break with Andrews McMeel Publishing, cementing his place in comic history with the cult classic Calvin and Hobbes.

Cullen: The smallest readable book ever made is 12 nanometers long by 8 nanometers wide. It was engineered by four particle physics grad students at the University of Vienna and contains the first passage of the Bible across six microscopic pages.

Stephanie: Most aerosol cans use both oxygen and carbon dioxide as the aerosolizing agent, which is why you're told never to spray them near an open flame. However, for food (like whipped cream or spray cheese), nitrogen is used instead. This is to prevent perishable food from oxidizing and for preservation as nitrogen helps maintain a cooler inner temperature.

Cassandra: The most plausible explanation for the legendary chupacabra was proposed by a team of anthropologists in Oaxaca. Essentially, it combines the theories of mass hysteria with the existence of a similar creature that went extinct in early Mesoamerican history. As accounts of this now-extinct creature was passed down, the image of it was slowly distorted. The modern chupacabra legend likely arose in a period of mass hysteria during political and economical insecurity.

Barbara: Traditional computer programs can be broken down into a series of if-then commands by which a condition is given and the program must respond according to the parameters. However, machine learning algorithms use an expanded version of this, known colloquially as if-then-but-because-however. The "if-then" stipulates the parameters, the "but" is for modifiers, the "because" is for generating explanations (usually pulled from a database of other works unfortunately), and the "however" is for exceptions that may rise over the course of running the program.

Harper: Ambidextrous people actually struggle the most when it comes to the drums. Most drum setups and tabs (sheet music) are designed with right-handedness as a default. Left-handed people can simply flip it around it for themselves. However, ambidextrous players have been found to struggle with the asymmetry of the instrument. That's why, among professional rock drummers, only 6% are ambidextrous compared to the 18% of lefties and 76% of righties.

Carrie: Although it feels like our lungs are burning after holding our breath for a while, the sensation actually originates from our inflated diaphragm pressing against our lungs. Since there are more nerve endings around our lungs than our diaphragm, we interpret the feeling higher than where it actually occurs.

Kate: During the war of 1812, a group of nine Canadian men known as the False Damsels donned women's attire to act as spies against the Americans. Of the nine, four of them reportedly continued crossdressing after the war and one of them started going by Margaret a few months later and remained unmarried for 20 years until they moved to Portugal with an unknown courter.

Alfred: In 1757, the British government attempted to train livestock, such as cows and chickens, to spy on domestic threats (such as anti-monarchists). However, this project never took off due to a regional outbreak of avian flu combined with the takeoff of the Industrial Revolution and new inventions that rendered animal labor obsolete.

Selina: Coffees and wines contain a bitter compound called tannins, and the ability to taste them is genetically determined. Capsaicin can be seen analogously. Some people inherit a gene that allows them to detect capsaicin fully, so when they eat a pepper, all they get is the heat and little to no flavor. Conversely, others have a gene where the heat is "muted" and they can better distinguish the flavors between two spicy foods.

Bruce: There is a correlation between one's taste in food and expectation of others. According to a 2019 Harvard study, people who reported preferring more simultaneous flavors in their food were 26% harsher in an activity where they had to grade students' mock essays.

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hihomeghere · 7 months

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Tesoro | Five Hargeeves / Reader

Rating : Teen Word Count : 3k Summary : While working at the commission as a field agent you are assigned a new partner, Number Five. Warnings : Gore, description of bodily harm, mentions of kidnapping (this is the start of a sort of series. I watched TUA and now I cant stop writing about Five)

Pins and needles, it was as though your very essence was being torn apart and put back together again. Atoms, Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen, Nitrogen. Your bones snap, your skin tears apart. A scream rips its way through your throat as everything is strung back together. The pain is almost worse than when your very existence was being torn apart, it was as though you were held together with only staples and duct tape. That familiar taste of copper fills your mouth. The crackle of static came over the speakers. Your head pounded, the lights nearly blinding you. The ringing in your ears was constant.

“Experiment #371, unsuccessful.” The cold voice says, sweat covering your body. Then the words you dreaded most left his mouth, “Begin experiment #372.” He said with a sigh.

You sat up with a gasp. Your hair was stuck to your forehead with sweat. You take in your surroundings, trying to take deep breaths. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. Your hands gripped your wood desk, you were back in your office. Your office at the commission. You were safe, no longer trapped in that lab. Instead of white walls these are cream, with framed pictures of wooded landscapes.

“Y/n?” Herb knocked on your door, you jumped your hand coming to your chest. You shook your head chuckling slightly.

“Yes? Sorry, you spooked me.” You said, giving him a smile.

“Oh,” he chuckled as well, “I just wanted to pop by and give you your next assignment.” He shrugged, taking a breath before handing you a yellow folder. He stopped in front of you looking at your hair, he chuckled before pointing to his own head. You pulled a strand down only to find in your shocked state you must have accidentally changed. The hair you were holding was now purple instead of your normal color. You smiled sheepishly, changing it back. “Thank you Herb.” You took the file from his hands, he nodded before walking out of your office. You opened up the folder flipping through the file.

There was the normal amount of mission jargon as always, except where your partner was introduced.

Partner?

Number Five, written in bold ink stared back at your very confused expression.

You had never had a partner before, but if the commission requested it they obviously knew something you didn’t.

You sighed, couldn’t put it off any longer you thought, pushing yourself up and out of your chair. The man you were going to see was of course a legend, but hey, so were you.

You were Y/n l/n, there was no other shapeshifting killing machine like you. 152 confirmed kills, 129 timeline saving missions. You were specially trained by scientists, dead set on turning you into a weapon for mass destruction. Lucky for you, escaping was easy when you could be anyone you wanted. A quick glance at someone and you could recreate their being as your own. It didn’t take long for the commission to pick you up after you escaped.

You stood up, clutching the folder to your chest. Your heels clicked on the tile floor as you passed the familiar offices. Many well manicured fingers tapping away on typewriters, your eyes falling on your old desk. You did miss the camaraderie, the shared lunches, meeting after work for a drink or two.

Sometimes you wished you could go back to your desk job. More than anything you wished you could wash the blood off your hands. That stain would always remain, no matter how hard scrubbed. Even if you didn’t show it, you remembered every single kill. Maybe it made you soft. You’d rather be soft than a machine.

“Excuse me?” A rather annoyed masculine voice said. You realized quickly that you were standing at the doorway of Number Five’s office.

“Oh.” You said collecting yourself, a shy smile on your face. He was different than you’d have imagined. Instead of the rugged, scarred man you’d envisioned. He was thin, dark hair in a neat side part, his body seemed well defined but not bulging with muscles. Possibly 35?He raised an eyebrow at you, you blinked coming back to earth.“If you wouldn’t mind sweetheart, I really need to get back to this.” He said, sighing, clasping his hands as he leaned forward at his desk. Your face flushed, sweetheart?

You scoffed walking into the office and sitting across from him. He sighed leaning back in his chair and muttered something under his breath. “Is this the normal act you pull with people?” You asked, crossing your arms. It was his turn to scoff.

“This isn’t an act, now are you going to hand me that folder or…” he trailed off, his hand stretched out expectantly.

You tilted your head, this man really had no idea who you were. You shook your head, throwing the file onto the desk . You plopped yourself down in the chair across from him, crossing your arms. He eyed you warily before opening the folder. The only noise in the office was the turning of pages, he stopped, his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“Well sweetheart, looks like I’m your new partner.” You said squinting your eyes as you smiled smugly, your nose wrinkling. He set the folder down on the desk, he mirrored you, his arms crossed.

“And why would they pair me with someone like you?” He grumbled. Was it because of your age? You scoffed looking off to the side, breaking eye contact.

You’d play if that’s what he wanted, but you never lost. Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen, Nitrogen. You watched as the smile slowly fell off his face, you felt your muscles tighten slightly and your hands stretch along with your legs. Soon Five was staring at a carbon copy of himself, only there was no paradox psychosis. Since after all he had just witnessed you turn into himself. You studied him for only a second before mirroring his stance, his body language was easy to pick up on.

“How did you?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“How did I what?” You asked furrowing your-his- brows.

He eyed you warily, leaning back in his chair. You smiled before putting yourself back together again. You smoothed your hair down, running your fingers through it. Your head throbbed slightly, a side effect of your ‘power’.

“Five Hargreeves,” he said, reaching out his hand. You took it.

“Y/n L/n.”

That’s how it was, you and Five against the world. Sure, he was sarcastic, egotistical, a bit of a know it all. But he was your partner, it wasn't like you were faultless. Slowly you began to peel back his layers, how he took his coffee, when he started to work at the commission, little things like that.

You were an open book anyone could flip through at any time. You wore your heart on your sleeve, which wasn’t always a great quality in your line of work.

“Theresa!” You called waving to one of the ‘desk worms’ as Five so ‘lovingly’ called them. She was one of your first friends after joining the commission. She stopped, gripping the files she was carrying tighter ever so slightly. Something only Five seemed to pick up on.

“Y/n…” she smiled slightly, her eyes darting to any exit she could find, “How lovely it is to see you again.”

“You too!” You said grinning, “How have you been?” You asked walking up to her, your hand touching her forearm. She winced slightly looking down at your hand. Five walked up behind you two, staring down at Theresa. She met his gaze only for a second before looking back at you.

“Fine. Just fine.” She forced a smile again, Five crossed his arms watching the interaction. She pulled away ‘readjusting’ the files in her arms. Your smile faltered.

“Oh, well I’ll catch you around! Maybe we could get lunch together? The old gang.” You nudged her arm. She looked down at where you had touched her, before she met your eyes again.

“Oh, well we had an early lunch today so… Maybe next time.” She forced a smile before all but running away from the two of you. You stood like a statue watching her run off. Your smile dropped from your face, Five clenched his jaw.

“Well,” Five said, breaking the silence, your head whipped back to look at him, “She’s a piece of work isn’t she?” He huffed, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

“Huh?” You asked furrowing your brows, “No! No, they just had an early lunch, that's all.” You said nodding to yourself, trying to make yourself believe your words.

Five looked at your face, the slight pout in your lip, your face was flushed. He internally fought with himself over his next choice of words. He would suffer through any awkward moments to see you smile again.

“How about you have lunch with me today, tesoro?” He asked, bumping his shoulder against yours. Your face broke out into a grin, a real one.

“Really?” You asked, the twinkle returning to your eyes. He nodded, the corner of his lips pulling upwards. “Absolutely!” You cheered, linking your arm through his. Normally he would have blinked away from anyone who dared touch him. But the feeling of your arm in his felt… right.

“So do you have any brothers or sisters?” You asked as you took a bite of your sandwich.

“Next question.” He looked back up at you. You sighed, lifting yourself up onto a desk. You swung your legs, picking up a chip and throwing it into your mouth.

“I don’t even know if I have any siblings.” You said as he picked up his own sandwich, he stopped eyeing you warily.

“What do you mean?” He asked, setting his sandwich down and crossing his arms.

“Well from what I know my parents sold me to those so-called scientists. I only know their names from the information on my birth certificate.” You shrugged meeting his gaze. His brows furrowed as he returned his attention back to his lunch. You sat in silence for a moment. The only sound in the room was your chewing. Five cleared his throat, you perked up looking at him. He seemed lost in thought, like he was picking his next words carefully.

“I have six siblings.” He said finally, his eyes on his desk.

“Six? Jeez your parents must have been going at it nonstop.” You giggled, but he only shook his head.

“Adopted siblings, we were all adopted.” He said, picking up his own sandwich, “our father knew we were special somehow.” He shook his head slightly. “Much like your parents.” He added gesturing to you. You furrowed your brows.

“I wasn’t special before they tore me apart and put me back together again.” You said picking at the skin on your hands, he got up and walked over to you. You looked at his oxfords, perfectly shined, reflecting the led lights. He grabbed one of your hands. You looked up, surprised by his actions. He had touched you before, but not like this.

“Everyone is special.” He said matter of factly, “You don’t have to have powers to change the fate of the universe.” He said his expression soft, his green eyes peering into yours. “Hell, my sister Vanya doesn’t have any powers, and she’s the best of us.” He chuckled, running his thumb over your knuckles before pulling away. Your heart sped up, drumming in your ears. He returned to his desk, bringing his coffee cup to his lips. That was the moment you fell for him.

It was hard to pinpoint the moment he fell for you. Everything about you enticed him, he couldn’t exactly put his finger on it. The way you laughed, deep and hearty, throwing your head back.

The way you took the time to truly understand him, even if he didn’t deserve it.

He could finally understand Klaus, he became addicted to you. He lived for the next hit. Nothing could touch you, alcohol didn’t come close.

You were all encompassing.

He didn’t think he could love again after Delores. He didn’t think he wanted to. At first it felt like a betrayal as you stole his heart, like a thief in the night.

It infuriated him. You infuriated him. He tried being cold to you, but every time your smile fell he would find himself apologizing. He didn’t fall in love with you in an instant, his love took time. Like the way he started meaning it when he called you ‘tesoro’ instead of it being a tease.

“What does that mean?” You asked one day, walking down the halls of the commission. He stopped, you walked past him turning to lean on the wall in front of him. You crossed one foot in front of the other in that certain way you always did.

“What does what mean?” He asked, feigning ignorance.

“Tesoro, you always call me tesoro. I want to make sure you’re not calling me a bitch or something.” You giggled, shaking your head as you looked down at your shoes. It was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water on him. He felt caught, like when his father had caught him in his study.

“It doesn’t mean bitch.” He wrinkled his nose trying to walk past you. Get away from the conversation and hope you forgot you asked.

You stopped him, your warm hand pushing him back.

“You aren’t getting out of this that easily.” You teased, he gulped peering down the hall. You were alone.

“Sweetheart.” He mumbled straightening his jacket.

“Huh?” You asked, cocking your head.

“Tesoro means sweetheart-“

“No, no I heard that.” You clarified a grin working its way onto your lips.

“Oh I hate that smile.” He loved that smile.

“You actually like me Number Five.” You grinned, that mischievous glint in your eye.

“I tolerate you, let’s put it that way.” He said stalking away from you. You had to run to catch up to him.

“Fine, fine. Whatever you say.” You put your hands up in surrender matching his stride. That damned smile beaming up at him.

The moment neither of you could deny your feelings anymore was an entirely different situation. This was months after the incident you had shared in a rather small hotel room with only one bed. Sure he had been fighting his feelings since that fateful night. Partners could fuck every once and awhile without developing feelings right? Now you were running down an alley, chasing a nasty fellow named Oliver Nicholson. This man, if you could even call him that, had been holding human fight clubs, but unfortunately for the fighters it wasn’t voluntary. Kidnapping people off the streets for these illegal rounds. If he were to continue his so-called ‘cock fights’ he could alter the timeline permanently. So here you were, running full speed ahead, briefcase in one hand and a revolver in another. Unfortunately, Oliver turned sharply down a corner, which put him in a bit of a blind spot. Five blinked after him, disappearing from your line of sight. You sighed picking up your pace, sometimes you hated your partner's power. The danger he put himself in with no means of back up drove you crazy. Just as you predicted he didn’t know that he was jumping into a fight he wasn’t prepared for. He was immediately tackled by some hired men, they punched him in the face. Hot liquid started to run from his nose, not liquid he reminded himself, it was blood. His vision was fuzzy and the ringing in his ears was all encompassing.

“Five!” You yelled he turned his head slightly to see you, the look of pure rage on your face still gives him chills to this day. You made quick work of ending those SOB’s lives. You shot the one on top of Five. The man slumped against him, his blood spattering onto his face. Five pushed him off jumping back into the fray.

Once all the men were either knocked unconscious or dead, you rushed over to him. You took his face in your hands, tsking at his bloody face.

“What happened to staying together?” You asked, pulling a handkerchief out of your pocket, wiping away any blood, “Hold this.” You ordered, he held the handkerchief to his bleeding nose. You stepped back crossing your arms, “You scared me half to death.” You huffed, biting your lip, avoiding his gaze. The damp pavement was the perfect backdrop for the lights to reflect onto your face. Your beautiful face. He tried blaming the pounding in his chest on the adrenaline running through his veins. You wiped away at a tear and his heart seized in his chest.

It was like his body was moving without his knowledge, he stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket, his hands reaching out to you. One wrapped around your waist while the other came up the back of your neck. He crashed his lips against yours, you let out a small squeak. You were frozen, your brain short circuiting. He pulled away looking at you for permission, or for any sign of rejection. You grabbed at him, pulling his face back to yours. It was messy, his blood now on both of your faces, teeth clashing, both of you taking each other in like oxygen. It was perfect. Kissing Five was like taking a hit and he was entirely too addictive.

“Was that ok?” He pulled away out of breath, his hard exterior came crashing down around you both. He rested his forehead against yours, his hands held your waist. You smiled looking into his eyes, his expression reminded you of that fateful night in the hotel room.

“More than ok.” You giggled, your hand coming up to rest on his neck. He chuckled grinning, he studied your face. Taking in every freckle, line and blemish. You were the most amazing piece of art he had ever seen. “Come on mister, let’s get out of here.” You took his hand, opening the briefcase.

#five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves #tua #the umbrella academy #tua x reader #five x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #light angst #mutual pining #hargreeves #tesoro #hihomeghere

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smalllady · 6 months

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Places in Mass Effect 2 - Horizon A temperate world that has hit the "sweet spot" for carbon-based life, Horizon has a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere maintained by abundant indigenous photosynthetic plants and bacteria. While the native plants are not very palatable to humans, the soil conditions are such that a handful of introduced Earth species have flourished, and the colonists must take strict care to prevent ecological disasters. Genetically-engineered "terminator seeds" that grow nutritious but sterile crops to minimize outbreaks are the rule rather than the exception. Animals on Horizon appear to be exploding in diversity, similar to Earth's Cambrian period. Large flying insect analogues takes advantage of the thicker-than-Earth atmosphere and low gravity to grow enormous. Microbial life have proven relatively benign; a series of vaccinations for the most virulent strains of soil-borne diseases is all that is required for a visit. Population: 654,390 Colony Founded: 2168 Capital: Discovery Orbital Distance: 2.1 AU Orbital Period: 3.0 Earth Years Radius: 5402 km Day Length: 37.8 Earth Hours Atmospheric Pressure: 1.68 Earth Atmospheres Surface Temperature: 13 Celsius Surface Gravity: 0.7 G

#mass effect #mass effect 2 #smalllady gifs #meedits #gamingedit #vgedit #dailygaming #dailyvideogames #userscenery #places in mass effect

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

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still into you | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: thursday

summary: you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (four part series | follow-up to 'make my heart surrender)

warnings: lots of swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, use of she/her pronouns, the lightest of smut, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 5k

listen to: 91 - bleachers | now i'm in it - haim | bewitched, bothered, and bewildered - ella fitzgerald (playlist here)

a/n: re: the poll -- yall really said 'let this man be happy please!' and i love that for us. if you voted for the other fic, i want to reassure you that i will be writing that one right after this! please enjoy all of the fluff and joy of this four chapter fic. i also feel like i potentially robbed us of a smut scene so... anyone interested in a bonus smut scene as a companion to this chapter?

Thursday

“Alright, guys. We only have a few hours to get our day one prep done. I’ve outlined a schedule for today so that we’re as efficient as possible. Tomorrow’s gotta go smooth, alright?” Carmy instructs, laying out the day.

You listen intently, marveling at your boyfriend in-action. He’s so fearless when he’s in his element, and being back in New York just seems to bring back all the memories of how you met. It’s like you’re twenty seven again, huddling up for a pre-shift meeting, led by recently-promoted wunderkind CDC, Carmen Berzatto.

Only, you’re not twenty seven anymore and Carmy is the love of your life.

“I’m gonna start with the mise for our beef dish, so Syd, can you get working on our signature veal stock? I think we should work with one in the pressure cooker just in case we get short on time and have a back up,” Carmy directs, an intense determination filling his eyes.

He looks from Sydney to Marcus, before continuing his orders.

“Marcus, I need you to start on the ice cream today, chef. I ordered us some liquid nitrogen if we need to make more on the fly, but I’d really prefer not to.”

And then it’s your turn, and boy, do you love to watch him work. You have to fight the corners of your lips from curling into a broad grin because you know now is not the time.

“And lastly, I’m gonna have you work on the pasta. My goal is for us to get all of the agnolotti assembled today, so I’ll jump in when I wrap up with my mise to help you with that, yeah?”

“Heard,” the three of you answer in unison.

Everyone’s got their game faces on because this is a big deal.

The biggest, actually.

Representing The Bear at the James Beard House is more than a big deal – it’s an honor. Only a handful of chefs get invited to cook here per year, and after a little fancy footwork in terms of scheduling, the four of you were finally able to agree on a date with the famous organization. You’re more than elated to be a part of the team, even if you aren’t working at The Bear anymore.

The four of you quickly busy yourselves with setting up your stations. You only have a few hours to accomplish a whole lot of prep, and the pressure sits heavily on each of your shoulders. Tickets to the dinner had sold out within the first hour, which, after all the press, accolades, and media attention the restaurant had earned over the last few years, hadn’t been a huge surprise.

“Think you can keep up, chef? Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ rusty on me,” Marcus quips, already starting the playful trash talking early.

You let out a laugh, before challenging him in jest.

“Damn, Marcus. Hasn’t been that long. Bet I can still kick your ass on a ‘beat the clock’ mise, chef.”

“Oooooh. Shots fired,” Sydney calls out, joining in on your friendly banter.

“Challenge accepted,” Marcus shoots back, almost instantly.

And then you’re scrambling to get as many prep containers and a kitchen scale, as you race your friend and mentee, all in good fun.

You’ve missed this.

It’s only been a few months since you started your new job – a culinary education director at a startup intent on building more sustainable food systems. While your heart would always be at the restaurant, you’d been ready to take on new challenges. The salary pay and benefits didn’t hurt either. You were happy taking a grown-up job, craving a little more stability and normalcy – and so that you and Carmy could stop paying out the ass for health insurance. Besides, you were still working with food. It just looked… well, a lotta different these days.

You’ve missed the fast pace of the kitchen, your people, and Carmy’s desire for excellence, but it’s not like those things have left your life either. You still have them.

After you’d left the restaurant, Marcus had taken over as the head pastry chef. In the last few months, you’ve watched him mentor and inspire a new group of wide-eyed, green, chefs-in-the-making, which had made you prouder than you’d ever have the words for.

You can smell the sharp-allium scent of onions, as Syd quarters them for her stock, and while you have several cartons of eggs and 00 flour, Marcus has gathered all the milk that you’d just purchased for today’s prep.

“Behind,” Carmy says. He passes you by with a few 5 qt storage containers stacked, as he hugs them to his body with one arm.

You feel his other hand place the gentlest touch on the small of your back as he leans in and whispers in your ear, “It’s good to have you back, chef.”

You smile, turning your head just enough to lean back to look at him.

“It’s good to be back, chef.”

He presses the gentlest, slow kiss to your lips, and it feels like time stops for a moment. As he pulls away from you, there’s a small smirk on his face as Sydney shouts, “Oh get a room, you two!”

“If we had the time…” he murmurs quietly, planting one more soft peck onto your lips. His face is still only inches away from yours. You giggle in response, the tender moment filling your heart with warmth.

“Speaking of time… I just bought Marcus a head start,” Carmy teases, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize what he’s doing.

You pull away from him, your head snapping towards Marcus’ direction to see that he’s already filled a 5 qt container to its capacity with one portion of the milk.

“Seriously? Damn it, Carmy!” you cry out, shaking your head. “This is sabotage!”

You hear Marcus laugh in the background and as Carmy walks away with a cheeky feeling of accomplishment. You shake your head in disbelief.

“Sorry, babe. You can deal with a little hazing, yeah? Since you’ve been gone for so long. Gotta give my guy a head start. ‘S only fair.”

“You’re such a dick,” you scowl, scrambling to catch up.

Oh it is so on.

By the time you’re done with your day one prep, the four of you head to the hotel. Luckily, it’s only a five minute walk away, and you’re grateful that the James Beard Foundation chose to partner with one so close. The four of you pull your suitcases down the streets of Greenwich Village, before arriving at the luxurious, vintage-inspired hotel.

You’re eager to get up to your room, as you haven’t had a shower, nor a time to take a break since you all arrived.

“Woah…” Carmy says, his brilliant blue eyes scanning the high end hotel room. “You sure we can afford this?”

You chuckle, “I think uh… they have a partnership with the James Beard Foundation, which is the only way I can answer your question with a ‘yes’ without having to tell you that we have to sell an arm, a leg, and our first born.”

He shoots a half smile in your direction before letting out a whistle as he looks around. The floor to ceiling windows feel way outside of anything you could afford, as Carmy spots the French doors that lead right out onto a terrace. As you continue to explore the rest of the room, you spot a huge tub in the bathroom – something you’re very eager to take advantage of.

“Power nap?” you ask Carmy, setting down your suitcase in the middle of the room.

You’ll put your things away later.

“Fuck yeah,” he agrees eagerly.

You’ve barely put your book bag down before you’re both stripping off your jeans and climbing into the perfectly made hotel bed. After spending the morning traveling, you, Sydney, Marcus, and Carmy had gotten off the plane at JFK and gone straight to the James Beard House in Greenwich. Not only had Carmy been antsy to see the kitchen and get a head start on prep, you hadn’t been able to check into your hotel till this afternoon. You’re both spent, and you know that Carmy’s been running himself ragged preparing for this once in a lifetime opportunity. He hasn’t been sleeping all that well either– his thoughts consumed with nailing down the perfect menu, while paralyzed with indecision.

His quest for perfection had made him irritable over the last few days. You could see that the pressure was getting to him. His appetite was down, he was picking fights with you about small, unnecessary things at home, and pushing Sydney (sometimes a little too hard) at the restaurant.

But today, he seems a little more in control of his feelings, and it puts him a little more at ease now that you’re finally in New York. He knows he’s been driving you crazy all week, and now that you’re all here, he’s hoping he can relax a little.

Now that you’re here, in the city.

Now that the dinner is only a day and a half away.

You’re hoping he’ll slow down at some point too – give himself a little time to enjoy how big of an accomplishment this is. At least by the end of the weekend. Frankly, you’re glad you’ll have Saturday to enjoy the city without any pressure.

For all of your sakes.

You’re surprised that Carmy falls asleep with you during your late afternoon nap. He’s been so wired, so high strung lately, but you’ve just been waiting for him to come back down. Now that it seems like he is, there’s no way in hell you’re going to wake him up. You’re curled up together when you wake, your back pressed against his chest, his arms enveloping you. It feels almost impossible to pry yourself out of his arms without waking him up, but his deep slumber confirms your suspicions and you’re more than willing to let him continue sleeping. It takes a few tries to slip out of his embrace, but you do, and it’s off to the bathroom to get ready for dinner.

You try to make as little noise as possible, but by the time you're out of the shower, and your hair has been blown dry, Carmy’s up. You can hear the hotel TV on as you exit the bathroom and see he’s put his jeans back on. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You notice that the dark circles under his eyes that have accumulated over the years seem to sit heavier this week, as his eyes flicker over towards you.

“Damn, my girl’s got style,” he compliments, checking out your all black-ensemble. “We really are back in New York, huh?”

You nod, grinning at his sweet compliment, as you sit down to slip your white sneakers on.

“You meetin’ up with Liz and Maya tonight?” he asks you.

“Yeah. Syd’s gonna join for a bit before her thing. She should uh… be here any minute, actually.” You begin tying up the shoelaces of one of your shoes, before slipping the other one on.

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

“Nah I-, I'll see ‘em tomorrow right? But tell ‘em I say ‘hello’.”

“Of course. I think they’re both really looking forward to seeing you.”

You check the time on your phone making sure you have enough time, before you make your way to where Carmy sits on the edge of the bed.

“What’re you going to do tonight?” you ask, curiously, stopping so that your body is right in front of his.

“Well Marcus is staging at per se so… I’ll probably just hang out. Order room service or pick up a sandwich across the street. I wanna run through all this shit so tomorrow goes as well as it can,” Carmy answers, waving his notebook at you.

He’s like a man possessed, but it’s one of the many reasons you love him. You pull the notebook out of his hands tossing it somewhere on the bed behind you. You place your knees on each side of his hips, before settling down on top of him.

“Think you can relax a little tonight?”

He pulls you in, his arms moving over your hips. Carmy leans in, placing a small kiss against your glossy lips.

“Think you can help me with that?”

You giggle in response, twisting your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I think… that could be arranged.”

Before anything too spicy can happen, there’s a knock at the door and you know it’s Syd. Carmy groans as you pull away, falling back onto the bed with a sigh of defeat. You climb off of him, heading to answer the door.

“Hey, you ready?” Sydney asks, as you greet her.

“Yeah, let me just grab my phone,” you reply, stepping aside to let her in.

As she enters the hotel room, Carmy’s sitting up. With his feet planted firmly on the ground, he leans over, resting his forearms on his legs as he runs a hand through his messy curls.

Sydney looks from you to a somewhat pouty Carmy, as if she knows she interrupted something.

“Staying in tonight, Carm?” she asks him, as you gather your things.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, and you can’t help but notice how tired he looks.

Sydney rolls her eyes in response, “Don’t worry. I’ll have her back by nine.”

“Alright, I’m ready,” you say with a smile as you address Sydney.

“You guys have fun,” Carmy nods, with a half assed wave.

“Don’t work too hard, boss,” Sydney adds, as the two of you turn to leave. “Oh and Carmy. You’ve got a little…” She gestures towards the lipstick you’ve left on his face.

You laugh in response, and as you close the door, Carmy can hear Sydney’s ‘oh my god, you two are like rabbits’ comment in the distance.

Carmy allows himself to fall back on the bed, reaching above his head to grab his notebook again. He’s honestly grateful to have a night to himself. He’s never been much for going out, or big social events, so having a night in feels like a good kind of calm before the storm – especially because the next few days will be full of social interactions. He’d always found New York City a little overstimulating.

Between the dinner and the reception on Saturday, Carmy felt like he was collapsing under the enormous pressure – his only out being excellence. It’s not just the fact that being invited to cook at the James Beard house was a once in a lifetime opportunity, but there’s important business to announce here too. And then there’s the social aspect of it all, and he can’t help but feel like there are high expectations: from the food world, his reputation, your old friends from New York. And he wants to make everyone happy – he wants to impress them all.

Something about being back here, and being back here with you, has him caught up in his head about it all. This is where you’d met. It’s also where he’d been at his lowest – right before Mikey died. So much has changed, and Carmy feels too large for his old battlefield.

Because that’s what it had been for him: a battlefield.

A battle for his mental health, to rise to the top of the New York City fine dining scene, fighting with his feelings for you.

Over the last two years, he had learned that he didn’t have to fight every single damn day. Some days he could just… be – be himself, whatever the fuck that meant, be a friend, and be with you. It felt strange – familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Being back here makes him somehow feel like the total loser he was six years ago when he first arrived in NYC… and a completely different person at the same time.

While he was over the moon when he got the call from the James Beard Foundation, he also couldn’t fight this uncomfortable feeling that’s been sitting in his stomach all week long. Carmy had never quite been able to come to terms with the whole ‘celebrity’ aspect of the food world. He knew what he could do in the kitchen. That was unquestionable. But the rest of it – the networking, the celebrity chef circles – was the part he felt most unsure about.

Ever since Sydney’s Rising Star win, he’d let her take center stage with her rising visibility in the culinary world. Actually, he’d been grateful that she was so good at it – that it seemed like she enjoyed the part of the job he hated. There was someone to take the pressure off of him – someone who thrived in front of the camera so that he didn’t have to. But he knows at some point this weekend, he’ll have to face the music.

There were big changes coming to The Bear.

It didn’t take long after the initial introductions for your friends to fawn over Sydney. They were more than happy to meet your friend they’d heard all about, and the incredible chef who was shaking up the Chicago food scene.

“Well I’m glad to hear that some things have changed and that working with Carmy’s not a total nightmare any longer-?” Liz concludes your conversation about the restaurant, earning an eye roll from Maya and a laugh from both you and Sydney.

“Oh no it’s still tough sometimes,” Sydney says back. “He has his days. We all do.”

“Liz!” you protest, in regards to the Carmy-bashing.

“What?! You didn’t have to work directly under him back then!” she defends herself, before clarifying with Sydney. “And in his defense, Sydney, it was really our exec chef who was the real nightmare.”

“Oh she works directly under him, alright,” Maya jokes, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And sometimes on top of him, and also-,” you quip back, ready to play along.

“Oh my god, you’re out of control and I am sick of you!” Sydney exclaims with a laugh in reference to your crass comment.

“So tell us more about the new restaurant,” Maya prompts, refocusing the conversation back to Sydney’s previous reveal.

Sydney tells your friends about The Bear’s plans to expand, and shares ideas she has that even you haven’t heard from Carmy yet. As she wraps up her story, she realizes what time it is, meaning that she’s gotta head uptown soon. She really only was supposed to stay for a glass of wine, but meeting your friends has been so fun that she’s lost track of time.

“Shit. I have to head out,” she says. “But I’ve really loved meeting you guys. You’re coming to the dinner tomorrow night, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Absolutely.”

“And the reception!” you add gleefully, so glad you get to see your best friends three days in a row.

“It’s been really great meeting you, Sydney,” Liz says, shooting you a look of approval. She squeezes your hand under the table momentarily, before saying, “Thanks for taking care of our girl. She speaks so highly of you.”

“Where are you off to next?” Maya asks, excitedly.

“Syd’s got dinner plans,” you answer, waiting for Sydney to provide more detail.

“Yeah, I uh-, I got invited to one of the To Be Hosted events and it just worked out that we’d be in town for this the same weekend,” Sydney replies, a glimmer of excitement flashing through her eyes as she shares.

“Damn, you got invited to a supper club?” Liz marvels. “Okay!”

“Yeah because she’s a rockstar,” you cheer your friend on, saying it so matter of factly that even a stranger would believe you.

You all say your goodbyes to Sydney before ordering food. It feels so good to be back in the city, back here with some of your best friends. Maya and Liz had been the friends that held you up, and you them, when you lived here. While you had met Liz at your last job, a sous chef under Carmy’s leadership, Maya worked in fashion and the two of you had become fast friends after meeting through an ex-boyfriend. Once you introduced the two of them to each other, the three of you had been inseparable ever since.

They had always been your biggest cheerleaders – especially when it came to you and Carmy.

“She’s great,” Maya says, in reference to Sydney.

“Right? I’m so excited for her. This is a huge deal: create her own menu, a chance to run kitchen without Carmy…” you agree, feeling deep satisfaction over the amazing people you have in your life. “We’re announcing the big news at the dinner tomorrow.”

“Speaking of, how is our favorite guy? What’s he up to tonight?” Maya asks, guiding the conversation back to Carmy.

“I told him he could come but I think he wanted to stay in tonight. I think he needs some time to decompress. He’s been pretty high strung all week,” you answer.

“Carmy? High strung?” Liz asks back sarcastically, earning a laugh from you. “I’m kidding! I really am looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.

Maya shakes her head, before taking a sip of her glass of wine. She’s always adored Carmy, but knows that Liz has a different relationship with him, having worked as a line cook.

“You guys are… getting serious, huh?” Liz asks, glancing over at you.

“Um.. I think those two were married after their first coffee date,” Maya adds.

“It was not a date!” you insist, shooting her a look.

Liz lets out an unconvinced laugh, and you accept defeat because you know they’ve always been right about you and Carmy.

“Maya, don’t forget. Our girl is and has always been the Queen of Denial,” Liz adds, winking in your direction.

“Oh ha-ha. You guys are so funny,” you reply dryly. You nod, thinking about you and Carmy’s relationship over the last few years. “Yeah uh… it’ll be three years in the Fall so… you could say it’s getting pretty serious.”

Your friends are beaming back at you in response to your admission, and while you’d love to spend all night talking about how head over heels you are for Carmy, you’re also kind of ready to shift the attention off of you and your relationship.

“Enough about me. What’s going on with you guys?” you change the subject.

It feels so good to catch up with your girl friends. You all agree to make it an early night. While Maya’s husband had agreed to put their kid to bed, she wants to make it home in time anyways. Liz has a date later, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped up dinner and are walking back to your hotel. You send Carmy a quick text, because you’re only a few blocks away.

You: On the way back.

New York City has always been so inspiring to you. The city itself feels alive – like there’s an electric undercurrent that always makes you feel so full. There’s never a dull moment, and it feels as if the potential for a wild adventure is always around the corner. It’s also the place that you and Carmy met, all those years ago. It’s funny. The version of you that met him six years ago never could’ve predicted this: that you’d actually get to be here together, after almost three years of loving each other fiercely.

Your friends were and always have been right about you.

Back then, you were Queen of Denial and even then, Carmy had been your king.

But you’re here now: in the city you met in, stupidly in love with the man you’d met six years ago who had seemed terrified to merely have a conversation with you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand, interrupting your trip down memory lane, as you peek at the text you just received.

Carmy: Went out for a walk and a smoke.

You type back a quick, yet short reply.

You: Love you.

When you return to the hotel room, you enjoy the quiet of the evening. It still feels like spring in NYC, so you open a window because it just feels too damn good outside. No wonder he’d gone for a walk. You kick your shoes off, placing them gently by the door, before stripping off your jacket and heading into the bathroom.

As you pull your hair up and out of your face, piling it into one conglomerate on top of your head, you eye the large bathtub you’d admired earlier. Not only are you in need of a relaxing soak, but you’re hoping you can persuade Carmy to join you – maybe even help him destress a little. You don’t think twice about it, as you strip off all of your clothes, sliding on one of the fluffy robes that the hotel has provided. You flip on the hot water, the sound of rumbling water against tile hitting your ears.

There’s a bath soak in a glass jar that you find on the bathroom counter, before adding it to the increasingly hot water. While it looks like a mixture of some kind of soak and epsom salt, large bubbles begin to form underneath the rapid stream of the faucet, and you inhale deeply.

Lavender. Vanilla. Chamomile, maybe?

The smell puts you at ease and you can feel your shoulders melting away from your ears.

It’s not long before Carmy returns, the bathtub is almost at its capacity and the bath soak that you put in the hot water has bubbled up and blossomed into large, sudsy configurations. You’ve put on a jazz playlist, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filling the small space as you hum along.

“Babe?” Carmy calls out to you, as you hear the front door close behind him.

“I’m in here,” you call to him, turning the volume of your phone down a few levels. .

You hear a shuffle of shoes, before he’s peeking around the door frame, his eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you. He knows it’s silly. It’s not like he’s been able to be very present over the last week, and it begins to dawn on him that he’s missed you.

“How was your walk?” you ask softly.

“Good.”

He looks around the bathroom, the air thick with humidity from the hot water. You turn the faucet off, as you’ve now filled the tub to its capacity.

“You look comfy.”

“I am. It’s a very comfy robe.”

You wait a beat before preparing your ask.

“Big tub,” you entice him, gesturing towards the bubble bath that awaits you.

“Yeah?” he asks, a half smile on the edges of his lips as he takes a step towards you.

“Big enough for two,” you nod, making your case.

It’s all the convincing he needs. You’re removing your robe, leaving your bare body on display for him to see, and soon enough, he’s stripping down and climbing into the bathtub with you. You share an awkward laugh as the two of you clumsily figure out how to position yourselves for optimal comfort. Your back is pressed against his chest, and you’re truly in awe of the large bathtub that somehow holds the both of you.

It becomes progressively easier for Carmy to relax. Between the hot water, and your naked body pressed against his, thoughts and worries about tomorrow begin to slip away. The two of you enjoy the quiet intimacy between you, the soft sounds of your favorite jazz standards, and Carmy’s lazily dragging his fingertips across any bit of exposed skin that he can.

You lean your head back against his shoulder, and Carmy buries his face in the crevice where your neck and shoulders meet.

“Why don’t we do this more often?” he asks, in between leaving a few slow-paced, soft kisses across your shoulders.

“Hm?” you hum in response. From the way his mouth and hands move across your body, and the silky feeling of the hot water, you barely have a thought left in your head.

“This whole… bath thing,” he clarifies, exhaling a deep sigh.

This may be the most relaxed he’s felt all week and he likes that you seem to be enjoying this too.

“Probably because we have a tub that I can only assume was built for a small show dog,” you joke.

He laughs dryly.

“Fair enough.”

Carmy waits a beat before speaking again, enjoying how his mind has quieted for the first time in days.

“Let’s put it on the list… for when we’re ready to move to a new place,” he suggests, quietly.

“Somewhere with a big tub?” you ask, only sort of surprised by his request.

“Yeah.”

You turn your head to look at him, as Carmy presses a searing kiss to your lips. You feel his hand snake between your legs and you begin to understand exactly why he’s enjoying this whole bath thing.

“As much as I’m enjoying this…” he whispers against your lips. “Think you maybe want to get out of this tub…”

Another kiss.

“… dry off…”

You slide your tongue against his as his fingertips move higher up your inner thigh, earning a hiss of pleasure from you.

“…not put our clothes back on?”

And then he’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues his exploration. Your head is spinning, and it’s not just the hot water that makes you feel as if your soul was set aflame.

“Yes.”

The next morning, you wake up alone. On the bedside table there’s a note in Carmy’s scratchy handwriting that reads:

Couldn’t sleep. Went to Chelsea Market. Love you.

You let out a frustrated sigh. Last night had been incredible but you also knew it’d be back to the grind today. While you’re excited for him – and for tonight – you’re also kind of ready for this to be over. You’re ready to have your boyfriend back.

read: bonus smut scene | chapter two

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