#Beer POS System
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You're My Only Hope for Heaven
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author's note: oh bitch I'm having a fucking blast with this dynamic the slow burn is slow burning
Summary: An unlikely patron saunters into your bar [3.5k]
Warnings: one (1) creepy guy, one (1) fake marriage, lots of flirting that’s not flirting but it’s not not flirting, one (1) kiss
You try not to make it a habit of picking up bar shifts during the week. Not only is it almost always slow, and you barely make any money, but it's hard to go from teaching for eight hours directly to another job. You'd much rather be at home, grading or doing something for yourself for the first time in weeks. But you couldn't say no when Katie called you, almost in tears, begging you to take her shift so she could deal with a burst pipe in her house. You don't regret doing her a favor, but you do regret other things as you stand behind the mostly empty bar as whatever game is happening plays on the screen above your head. You think it's a UT game. Or maybe A&M. Or any of the other SEC Texas schools with an absurd football budget.
You're basically yawning your way through your shift and working through your newest painting in your head, trying and failing to not think about school until absolutely necessary. Principal Martinez is cracking down on the stupid minutiae the school board demands of its teachers, and you spent most of your afternoon writing student objectives on the board. On top of that, your art club kids have been begging you to plan a field trip to the local art museum for weeks. You finally relented, but the paperwork is mind-numbing and requires much more work than you thought. Between working, making art, and trying to live your life, you barely have time.
Another reason you hate working weekdays is the creepy regulars. Normally, you can ignore them on a busy Saturday night, but it's harder when it's as dead as it is. You have no idea how Katie deals with them on a regular basis. It started with a guy at the bar, you think his name is Steve, asking you progressively invasive questions. "How old are you?" "You gotta boyfriend?" "What time do you get off?" One right after each other, even after you made it clear you're not interested. Fake laughing and making excuses to run to the back or change a keg don't throw him off.
"Keep it up, and I'll cut you off." You finally threaten after he asks you why you're being a bitch. You roll your eyes when the bell above the door rings, probably admitting yet another asshole who's gonna make your night hell. When you turn toward the door, the words leave you before you can stop them. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
"Now, is that any way to greet your customers?" Joel chuckles, and you sigh as he sits down in front of you. Thankfully, his brother is not in tow, and you can save yourself a little embarrassment. "I didn't know you worked here."
"I don't," you say. "Whatcha drinkin'?"
"Looks like you're workin' to me." He smirks and you shoot him a look.
"You wanna free drink or not?"
"Shiner," he answers quickly. You hum in acknowledgment, not even bothering with the POS system and going right to the fridge to pull a bottle out for him. You pop the cap off and place a napkin under the beer before sliding it to him. "Are you bribin' me?"
"You've gotta be faster with your questions, Miller. You've already accepted it. Might as well enjoy." You say, and he laughs.
"Well, alright, then," he says, raising his beer to you before taking a quick sip. "So, what's this, then? You moonlightin' as a bartender?" He asks, and you fight yourself on how to answer. What if word gets back to parents? Administration? They couldn't reprimand you for that, right? You know plenty of other teachers with second jobs, so it can't be that taboo. Still, you're hesitant to open up to Joel. Out of all the people who could've walked into your bar tonight, it had to be him.
"Something like that." You settle on, wiping a sticky spot on the bar to avoid his gaze. If he feels anything negative about you having a second job, his face doesn't show it. He has a soft smile on his lips and a slight sunburn across his nose, highlighting the freckles living there that previously went unnoticed. You want to tease him about not wearing sunscreen, but the joke dies in your throat when he rests his elbows on your bar, showing off those stupid biceps you can't not look at. He catches your eyes lingering near the short sleeve of his shirt and opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but a grating voice from the other side of the bar cuts him off.
"Excuse me, sweetheart! You've got other patrons over here!" Steve yells, and you feel your eye twitch at his attitude. Joel notices.
"What's wrong with him?" He asks quietly, leaning forward over the bar to get closer to you. Looking into his brown eyes and confused expression, an idea forms.
"Pretend you know me." You say, and his eyebrows knit together, every emotion visible on his face.
"I do know you."
"No, I mean," you sigh. "That guy over there is a regular on Wednesdays, and the girl who usually works is married, so he doesn't try anything with her, but I won't give him my number, and he's making me fucking miserable. So, just... pretend to know me." Joel is bigger than Steve. Much bigger. Probably a whole head taller and much broader than the man on the other side of the bar. One word from Joel, and he might actually shut up or, better yet, leave altogether so you can finish your day without any more hiccups.
"Okay," Joel agrees, and you reflexively reach out to touch his thick forearm and squeeze. You don't even realize you did it until he smiles like he won a staring contest or something.
"Thank you," you say before turning and bracing yourself to deal with Steve. "What can I do for you, sir?" You ask, but before you can even finish your sentence, he holds up his empty beer bottle and waves it in front of your face like you're stupid.
"Another beer." He says, and you bite your tongue.
"You got it."
"Finally," he groans. "You'd think for such an easy fuckin' job, you'd be better at it."
"What the fuck is your problem?" You ask, refusing to move from your spot to get him his beer, and he scoffs.
"My problem is that you're bein' a fuckin' bitch and ignorin' me when I didn't do nothin' wrong." He's slurring his words together at this point, and you wordlessly go to the POS system to close his tab and send him on his way. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" He yells after you.
"Hey, man, why don't you leave her alone? She's just tryna do her job." Joel speaks up from the other side of the bar, and Steve straightens up in his seat as he assesses Joel.
"This isn't any of your fuckin' business. Stay out of it."
"It's my business now. That's no way to speak to a lady. I think you owe her a mighty big apology."
"I don't owe her shit," he spits, and you look over to see Joel setting his jaw and squaring his shoulders. "Why's this even matter to you, big shot?"
"That's my fuckin' wife you're mouthin' off to," Joel says without hesitation, and you quickly school your expression. Wife? You asked him to play along, but you didn't think he'd say that. "So, if you wanna keep the rest of your teeth, I suggest you apologize to her, leave her a nice, big tip for dealin' with your sorry ass, and get yourself a ride home."
Steve is silent as you take the empty bottle away from him— just in case things get really ugly— and slide him his card and bill. He eyes Joel carefully for a few tense seconds before picking up a pen, signing his check, and leaving without another word. The second he's out the door, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders and sigh at the relief. You scrub a hand down your face and look over at Joel.
"You okay?" He asks gently like you're a spooked horse, and you nod. You take a few minutes to get yourself together, putting in Steve's 30% tip and cleaning off the empty bar before returning to Joel. "What?" He asks when he catches you smirking.
"At least buy a girl dinner before you call me your wife." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head.
"You said the other girl is married. I just took it and ran," he says. "And I already tried to take you to dinner, but somebody said no."
"School regulation says it's unethical."
"Well, we're not at school now, and you're certainly not a teacher right now." He says smoothly, vaguely gesturing to your all-black outfit, and you give him a look. "What time d'you get off?"
"You're gonna get me in trouble." You whisper, and he leans forward across the bar.
"All I did was ask you a question." He whispers back, playfully mocking you. It could be the smile on his face, the relaxed humor behind his eyes, or the fact that he stood up for you because you asked him to, but you glance between him and the clock and take a deep breath.
"I get off at 12. Unless it stays dead like this, then I'm closing early," you say, and his smile grows. "But this is not a date."
"'Course not." He chuckles, and you raise your eyebrows at him.
"I'm serious. I need you to say it's not a date, so I know you won't come after me if your kid fails my class."
"Is my kid failing your class?"
"No, she's amazing. But for my own mental well-being, I need you to say that this is not a date." You say, and he grabs your wrist to stop your anxious wringing.
"Let me buy you a drink. That's it. Nothin' more," he says, squeezing you. "This ain't a date."
"Thank you." You sigh, and he nods.
You spend an hour or two idling between conversations with Joel and trying to look busy for any manager who might care enough to check the cameras. You're pretty much done with all your closing duties by 10:00, and you wait until it's been a full hour since anyone else came in to flip the closed sign and do a few last-minute things. When the bar is completely clean, empty, and ready for the next shift, you slink back behind it to make yourself and Joel a drink before sitting beside him.
"You feelin' proud of yourself for getting us here?" You ask as you clink your glass against his and take a sip.
"Yeah, I've got the prettiest girl in the whole place sittin' by me," he says, and before you can even scold him, he throws his hands up. "Not a date."
"Not a date." You repeat.
"Still true, though."
"Don't make me regret saying yes to you, Mr. Miller." You say, and he gives you a look. You like teasing him, especially since you can always see exactly how he's feeling. He's not particularly subtle, contrary to what you're sure others think about him.
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Joel?"
"As many times as it takes, I guess," you shrug. "You also clearly have an aversion to being called Mr. Miller."
"My dad was Mr. Miller." He says, and you roll your eyes, groaning and half-folding in on yourself dramatically.
"Oh, my God, do you know how many men have said that to me since I've become a teacher?"
"Well, it's true!" He says. "Are you sayin' other people are tryna tell my wife to call ‘em by their first names?" He asks, and you laugh.
"Believe it or not, you're not the first single parent to ask me out."
"Am I the first one you said yes to?"
"So far."
"So far?" He asks, raising his eyebrows, and you hum. "I'll take it."
Unsurprisingly, Joel is really easy to talk to. He asks questions about your life outside of work, where you went to school, and what made you want to be a teacher. You ask him about his job and family and, somehow, end up talking about the latest cheesy action film he's seen. When both your drinks are empty, the glasses sit there, the ice slowly melting as you talk into the night. Every time a hint of anxiety creeps up your spine, he makes you laugh or tells you an interesting story from his past and distracts you from it. You lose hours sitting there, and you don't even realize it until your phone pings you with a reminder, and you suddenly see it's past midnight.
"Oh, shit," you mumble, showing Joel the time. "I gotta lock up."
"And you have school tomorrow." He says, and you groan as you stand and grab your glasses.
"Don't remind me. I've got like five million things waiting to get done there." You say. He watches you step behind the bar, leave them in the sink for the opener to find, and no doubt send a catty message in the group chat asking who closed the night before. His eyes don't leave you even when you reach up and grab your bag, your sleeve falling down just enough to reveal a nasty bruise.
"Woah, that looks like it hurt," he says, gesturing to your arm. "How'd you get that?"
"Promise you won't laugh." Your response does nothing to clear up his confusion, but he raises his right hand and makes a cross over his heart.
"I promise." His tone is gentle and even, but you're still hesitant to actually admit it.
"I fell off a table."
"I told you!"
"Hey!" You scold. "You promised you'd be cool about it!"
"I promised not to laugh." He says, and you roll your eyes. "They still haven't come to fix it for ya?"
"Would I be climbing on tables if they did?"
"Fair enough," he shrugs. You find the bar keys at the bottom of your purse and walk over to where he's still sitting, your hand resting on the back of your chair. He shifts forward until he can catch the edge of your sleeve and roll it up to see the bruise in all her glory. His fingers are warm, and his touch light as he traces the edge of it, not firm enough to make it ache but enough that you feel the pads of his fingers. You freeze like your stillness will be enough for the feather-light touches to continue, your eyes meeting for a split second. He clears his throat and rolls your sleeve back down for you, drawing his hand back. "Tell you what," he says. "I gotta buddy who gets me a good deal on some spare parts. Let me see if I can track down the part you need, and I'll come fix it myself. Free of charge."
"You don't have to do that."
"And let my wife fall off tables?" He asks, a smirk pulling on his lips, and you shake your head. "It's the least I can do for the free drinks and, ya know, teachin' my kid."
"Fine, but don't make it a thing. The maintenance people already don't like me. I can't imagine seeking outside help will make them like me."
"I won't make it a thing," he promises, leaning back in his chair as his eyes travel up and down your body. He sighs heavily and sucks his teeth like you're suddenly too much, and you smile. "It's a damn shame this wasn't a date."
"What'd you do if it was?" The question borders on dangerous, but you can't take it back now that you've said it. It seems to have piqued Joel's interest, too, because he raises his eyebrows at you.
"You really wanna know?" He asks, and you nod.
"I really wanna know," you say. "How does Joel Miller end a successful date?" He gets a little bashful at the question, a blush creeping up his neck, and you knock his knee with yours to get his attention. "C'mon, don't get shy on me now."
"Alright, alright," he grumbles. "If this were a date, and we were gettin' ready to go out separate ways, I'd walk you out to your car, open the door for ya 'cause a lady should never open her own doors," his voice is slow and low, and he watches your face as he speaks. "And I'd kiss you. Nice and slow so I don't scare ya off or anythin'. I might put a hand on your waist or bite that pretty lip or somethin'. And right when I can feel you wantin' a little more, gettin' a little desperate, I'd stop, say goodnight, and walk back to my truck." His words have a devastating effect on you, and you can't look away from him. The heat rolling off him in waves makes you too warm and flustered. His gaze flicks from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip, and you have half a mind to think he's looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You have half a mind to let him.
"You're right," you finally breathe. "It's a shame this isn't a date." He nods and stands, his broad chest grazing yours as you look up at him. You're not a science teacher by any means. If you were, you might be able to explain the magnetism you feel toward Joel or what stupid chemical in your brain makes you wonder what tricks he keeps up his sleeve. But you're not. You're an art teacher. So, the only thing you can focus on is the deep brown of his irises and the heavy lashes and crow's feet that frame his eyes. And the swoop of his salt and pepper curls, the tint of his slightly pink forehead and strong nose. You want to capture his image in the dim lighting of the bar, but you settle for committing it to memory to scribble in the margins of your notebook for the rest of the week. Why couldn't you have been a science teacher?
Neither of you says anything as he finally steps away, giving you the space to turn off the last of the bar lights and push through the haze he created in your mind. He lingers by the door and opens it for you when you go to the front and step into the humid Austin night. You lock the doors and give him a small smile when you turn around to see him rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.
Then, just as he said, he walks you to your car and opens the driver's side door for you. His truck, the only other car in the parking lot, is parked a few spaces away from yours. It would've been so much easier to just ignore you, get in his car, and drive away, but here he is, being the gentleman he's always been toward you. You step into the space created by the open door and throw your bag in the passenger seat, but don't get in the car. Not yet. He sighs heavily, like he's in physical pain, when you meet his eyes again, and his hand flexes around the edge of your car door.
"Thanks for my not date." You mumble, and he nods. You're close (and weak) enough that brushing his lips would just take a strong breeze. It freaks you out how okay you are with the idea of "accidentally" kissing Joel Miller. You should be panicking. Alarm bells should be sounding in your head, but the only thing filling the cavernous space is the echo of his voice explaining what he'd do if this were a date. Idiot.
He leans on your door a little more, and your heart quickens, thinking he might actually be the one to make the move. His head ducks just a little, and you get a strong whiff of his cologne, your eyes fluttering shut at the scent. Your throat is suddenly dry, and you're all but pushing up on your toes when he swerves past your lips and presses a chaste, firm kiss to your cheek. His beard scratches your soft skin pleasantly, and you keep your eyes closed until he pulls away, looking like he just won a prize.
"Get home safe." He says as he steps back, still holding your door open. You sigh and fight a smile as you look at him— cocky, vindicated, and knowing exactly what he just did.
"Goodnight, Joel." You manage to get out before sitting down and letting him gently shut the door for you. You wait until he gets in his truck to roll your window down and shout his name until he does the same. "I'm gonna get you back for that."
"Oh, I'm countin' on it, darlin'."
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#hippies and cowboys#joel miller fluff#joel miller fic#joel miller au#joel miller x reader#joel miller the last of us#joel miller#the last of us au#the last of us fluff#the last of us fic#tlou au#tlou fluff#tlou fic#joel tlou#tlou#tlou hbo#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you
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He Don't Like The Lights | Bradley Bradshaw Actor AU|
Waiting tables wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t your favorite job either. Not that you hated it, because you didn’t. For the most part you liked your coworkers, your roommate Celeste being one of them. Your bosses weren’t horrible, and the pay was alright. You were able to pay your bills and stash some extra cash away for savings. Soon, or at least you hoped it would be soon, you would be able to move out of the somewhat shitty place with Celeste and get a better apartment. Maybe even leave Virginia altogether.
“Hey, I need you to take table five.”
“But it’s not in my section tonight,” You argue with your manager.
“Just take it, okay? It's a single and you’re better with singles than Celeste,” He replied, shooing you away with his hands.
You let out a dramatic sigh, rolling your eyes as you grabbed your waitress book and headed towards the single guy sitting at the table. You never sized up tables before you started serving them, never tried to write people off before they had a chance to show their colors.
But you could tell that this guy was hot just by the way he was sitting with a baseball cap tugged low. He at least knew how to wear a damned hat unlike some of the guys who came in with it halfway on their heads.
“Hi, welcome in, can I get you started with anything to drink?” You asked cheerfully as you stopped in front of him.
The bar was relatively empty, which came as a surprise since it was a weekend and the weather was fairly nice. Maybe everyone was still out at the beach and would be in before dinner ended. Maybe you would get lucky and end up having a good tip night to make up for the shitfest that was last night.
“Uh, just a Bud on draft if you have it.”
“Bud lite?” You question.
“No, Buswieser, the real shit,” There’s a hint of a laugh in his voice.
“I’ve got it in a bottle, is that okay?”
“Yeah that works,” He replies, tipping his head back to look up at you.
It takes you a second to register who’s actually looking at you. You’ve seen those dark hazel eyes on screen plenty of times, because Cele is obsessed with his movies. However, what really takes you back is how normal he looks in an old beat up t-shirt and shorts. He doesn’t look like the glamourous actor that you’ve seen.
“I’m sorry- are you,” You stop and lick your lips.
You aren’t nervous, because you aren’t obsessed with him. His movies are okay, and you have to admit he is more attractive in person than he is on screen. But you’ve never been one to fall face first over someone who’s in the industry, not that you’ve ever had the chance to before.
“Are you Bradley Bradshaw?” The question comes out as a whisper as you lean down, trying to be as quiet as you can.
He pales for a moment, waiting to see if you’re going to fully freak out on him before smiling sheepishly, “Caught that easily, huh?”
“You’re lucky it’s just me and not the other girl over there,” You inform him, “She’d be on the floor, and I know that because I live with her and share a TV with her. But since it’s just me,” you smile at him before backing away a step, “A bottle of Bud coming right up.”
He smiles and relaxes into his seat before looking back down at his phone on the table. You can’t help but smile as you make your way towards the bar and the POS system to start his ticket.
Bradley Bradshaw is eating in the bar and no one but you knows. He just happened to be lucky enough that Celeste had the one big table and was therefore too busy to take him, even though it was her section.
“Thanks for taking that table,” She sounds out of breath as she sets a drink tray down next to you, “I’m swamped with those fuckers over there. Tourists on vacation who want everything at that very moment. Including three Virgin Strawberry Daiquiris for the kids. I want to shoot myself.”
You smile to yourself as you make your way around to the beer cooler to grab a nice cold bottle of Bud, “Oh don’t worry about it. He shouldn’t cause any trouble anyway.”
If only she knew.
“Here you go,” You say, sitting the open bottle down on his table, “Do you need a minute to look over the menu? Or do you have any questions?”
“What do you recommend?” He asked you, looking back up.
“Pulled Pork Mac’n’cheese, easy,” You replied almost instantly, “Hands down my favorite dish here, after our Crab Dip appetizer, but I also eat that for a full meal.”
He smiles up at you and closes the menu before handing it back to you, “I’ll try that Pork Mac then.”
“Sounds good, I’ll get that right in!” You smile triumphantly before backing away once again, “Holler if you need anything, okay? I’ll be back to check on you before the food comes out.”
Back at the bar, Celeste is finally able to stop for a minute and catch her breath. She looks miserable and it makes you want to laugh a little. Her night would be very different if she just took Table Five instead.
She’s hunched over her phone reading an article, which normally you would call her out on being on her phone but tonight you can’t be bothered. It’s slow enough and her phone is hidden anyway.
“Hey, Bradshaw is up for a bunch of awards,” She grins, “He so deserves them. You remember how great he was in that war movie, right! That’s what’s being nominated.”
“Hmm?” You question before your brain seems to catch up with you, “Oh, yeah. No, he was great in that movie. Whole cast was, honestly.”
“Exactly! I hope they sweep at the Oscars, they all deserve it so much.”
You have to hide your smile as you type away on the POS to put in the order. In the back, you can hear your kitchen jamming out to some sort of heavy metal meets classic rock mix which isn’t all that unusual for them. There are some days you’ve come to work and they’ve been listening to Disney music. At this point you can’t even try to say that you understand what their playlists consist of.
It takes ten minutes before you’re walking back over to the table with another beer in hand. You noticed he was starting to run low and you know better than to let a drink ever go empty. That was one of the first things you learned when you became a waitress.
“Brought you another one,” You announce, setting it down.
“Thanks, appreciate it,” He replies, “And uh, thanks for not freaking out on me. Would’ve been a bitch if I got swarmed in here.”
“No worries, I’m not a rabid fan or anything,” You laugh, “But I am curious as to why you’re here of all places. I thought you lived in LA?”
“I do,” He nods, “But this was home long before LA was. I was born here in Virginia, I like to come back and visit family from time to time.”
“Oh,” You’re taken back by his honesty. He could’ve easily told you that it was none of your business, which is what you expected, “That’s really nice actually.”
Celeste calls you, saying the kitchen wants you. Reluctantly you force yourself away from the table and towards the set of double swinging doors in the middle of the bar. Something about Bradley Bradshaw is drawing you in and you aren’t sure if you want to resist it or not. Surely he wouldn’t remember your name in a few hours. He’d forget about the server from Virginia the second he got on a flight back to LA and the way of the world would take back over.
“Here’s that pork mac,” Chef told you, nudging the dish in the window, “Get it out of my sight.”
“Sir yes sir,” You reply, grabbing the hot dish, “Thank you!”
“Yeah yeah, fuck off,” He grumbled, which only made you smile.
You made your way back towards Bradley’s table with a smile. You could see why Celeste was so enamored with him. There was just something about him that made you want to sit down and hang on his every word. Plus, he was hot as hell. He still had the mustache from his previous role, and was trying to hide behind his ball cap. He looked normal, almost.
You wondered how other people here saw him? Were they even paying attention to the bonafide star that was hiding out in the corner? Celeste would piss herself if she knew he was here, hell, you might even piss yourself if he smiled at you again. The thought made you a little weak in the knees.
“Your pork mac,” You said, sitting it down on the table in front of him, “Be careful, it’s actually pretty hot.”
“Mmm, looks fantastic,” He nearly groaned, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, you don’t even know if you’ll like it!” You laughed, “But I hope you enjoy, and let me know if I can get you anything else.”
You hop away from him again, taking a deep breath as you go. Maybe the night wouldn’t be as bad as you thought.
#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#rooster top gun#rooster bradshaw imagine#top gun#top gun maverick#rooster bradshaw fanfiction#rooster bradshaw fic#rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradsaw x reader
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Jealous 2.0
“Hey ya’ll, welcome in. I’m Sunny, I’ll be your server today.” I said my usual spiel, sliding a menu to each of the four men with a sweet smile, placing four sets of wrapped silverware in the middle of the circular table. “Ya’ll want me to start you with some waters or you have something a little more fun from the bar in mind?” I asked, clicking my pen and pulling out the little pad I took orders on, smiling at the men.
They were handsome enough, middle aged so a little gray at the temples but each of them held themselves with a cool confidence that I didn’t even mind. The one on my left returned my smile, flashing a row of pearly whites.
“Well Sunny girl, I think we’re going to start with a few pitchers of whatever is on tap, and an order of nachos?” He glanced at the others and they all nodded, plucking up the menus to look at them. “Sunny, that sure is a pretty name.” He added, chin tilted up as he met my eyes. He had hazel eyes, dark hair too, a tan that worked for him.
“Thank you, but I can’t take credit for that. I’ll pass the praise on to my ma though.” I said, smile still in place as I clicked my pen, putting the pad in the server’s apron around my waist. “I’ll go get those beers.”
I walked away, heading towards the POS system at the bar to type out to get the nachos going from the kitchen before grabbing a few plastic pitchers from the clean shelf, going to the taps. Mitch was pouring Pops another drink but glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.
“How’s it going?” He asked, leaning on the bar as I filled the pitchers with the basic tap beer.
“S’okay. How is the bar?” I asked, flashing him a smile, taking any opportunity to talk to Mitch during work. When we’d get back to the house at the end of the day Pops would take up his chair in the living room and I would usually grab the first shower before turning in for bed or sitting on the back porch reading until I got tired enough to lay down. We spoke, of course, but stealing little conversations at work felt a little more special for some reason. Maybe it was because Mitch had other options for conversation and still chose to come to me. God I was pathetic of this man.
“S’not bad.” He said, blue eyes flicking over to my newest table, watching the men talk amongst themselves.
I didn’t answer Mitch, grabbing the two pitchers in one hand and four glasses in the other, walking back to the table. Setting everything down I flashed my service smile, glancing between the four of them. “Ya’ll ready to order or need a few more minutes?” I asked.
“You know sweetheart, the boys and I were just talking about how pretty you are.” The man with hazel eyes spoke, reaching out and patting at my arm. It was a safe spot so I didn’t pull away but I did tilt my head slightly, placing a hand on my hip. “How’d you end up in a place like this? Not that it isn’t nice, been comin here for years and just haven’t seen you around.”
“Ah, I started a little over a month ago I think now.” I said with a small shrug, used to having the conversation with the regulars. “I like it here. I get to meet a lot of people, and who doesn’t like tips?”
The men all smiled and nodded, hazel eyes letting out a little chuckle. “Fair enough. We need a few more minutes, but thank you Sunny.”
I nodded, turning and walking away, unphased by the conversation. Moving behind the bar to see if there were any dishes I could snatch to take to the back when Mitch broke my concentration.
“I need help behind the bar.” Mitch said, sidling up next to me. “Ann will be taking over your table so you can help me.”
I frowned, glancing up at Mitch confused. “What, Mitch-” I frowned as I walked after him, his long legs easily outpacing me but we were in a small space behind the bar. He refilled a beer, popping the top off another one, serving the people that were coming up to the bar in waves.
Mitch had never needed my help before, so why now? I huffed, not pleased at the idea of losing out on my tips for the night, bar tips were never as good. “Mitch-”
“I’m the boss and I said I need your help Sunny. Listen.” He said sternly, looking down at me before moving past me to make another mixed drink at the end of the bar, flagging Ann over so she could take over my tables.
I frowned but realized I couldn’t really do about the situation, setting my frustration on the back burner to focus on the group before me looking at me hopefully for a drink. “Hi all, what do you need?” I asked, slapping on a smile.
The next few hours flew by. The bar was busy, and Mitch and I moved well together, but he certainly hadn’t needed my help. I’d seen him work busier crowds with ease, and the frustration at losing out on my tips really bothered me. Wiping off the bartop to clear it of spilled beer and condensation it had wound down enough for me to finally get answers from Mitch.
“I need to talk to you.” I told him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the back office. Mitch didn’t stop me or stumble but he did gesture for one of the girls to get behind the bar, not wanting to leave it unattended.
I opened the office door and pulled him through, closing the door as he moved to lean against his desk and face me. I don’t think I’d ever seen him actually sit behind the damn thing once.
“What was that about?” I asked, stopping before him with my hands on my hips.
Mitch had the audacity to fold his hands on his lap, looking relaxed as always. “What was what about, darlin?” He asked, voice smooth and low.
I narrowed my eyes and pointed at him, index finger gently prodding at his chest. “Don’t you try that sweet cowboy bullshit with me now, Mitch Keller. Why did you pull me behind the bar? I’m not stupid, I’ve seen you handle bigger crowds with ease, so why did you pull me off tables. Tipping tables, mind you.”
Mitch grabbed my hand that had been poking at him, warm fingers wrapping around my wrist, thumb brushing against the inside of it. “Just needed some help is all.” He said, pulling me a little closer. I went, curious as to what he was doing but not letting myself get distracted. As he spread his legs slightly to pull me between them to get me closer I met his eyes, telling him without words I wasn’t buying it.
He huffed, glancing away for a moment with a little frown on his lips, free hand scratching along his jaw. “That man grabbed at you. Figured you’d wanna get away from him.”
I paused, confused, thinking back to right before he pulled me behind the bar. Nothing out of the ordinary really happened, no one grabbed me like that one time, the memory of large fingers digging into my thigh painfully making me frown. Then it clicked. The four top of good looking men, the man touching my arm.
I grinned, taking a step closer to Mitch, the burn of satisfaction warming me over from the inside out. “Mitch Keller, are you jealous?” I asked, crowding his space slightly. He huffed, rolling his eyes and adjusting his hat on his head, hand still wrapped loosely around my wrist.
“Jealous? Darlin’, really?” He asked, flashing that good ol’ boy smile at me, chin tipping up to meet my eyes. I got flashbacks to the day in the cooler earlier last week, when he had accused me of the same thing. His free hand settled on my hip, pulling me closer, and I willingly leaned in with my own smile.
“Oh, good. I’d hate for it to be weird when I call one of them. I got some numbers before I was snatched behind the bar so I figured…” I trailed off, giving a little shrug, feigning nonchalance as my hands settled on his broad shoulders. “Might take one of em up on the offer of a date in the next few weeks.” He tensed under my hands and I knew I had him.
“Mm.” He said, hand tightening slightly on my wrist before releasing it. “Well it’s a shame that you’ll be busy that day. It’s busy season after all, I need you here.”
“I never said what day, Mitch.” I said, stepping back as he stood, making me look up at him now. He paused, blue eyes flicking over my face before his lips set into a thin line.
“You are doing doubles all next week.”
“Wait- hey!” I gasped, chasing after him as he left the office. I caught Ann’s grin and returned it, chasing after my boss when he tried to hide behind the bar, fully intending to pester him into giving me at least an afternoon off. “Cowboy you get your tall self back here, I wasn’t done with you!”
Read more Sunny and Mitch here
#fanfic#tulsa king#garrett hedlund#mitch keller#mitch keller fanfiction#female oc#Revenge really#I'm normal about him.
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hii... i love your writing! could i request a scenario where the reader (male) is vance's best friend and vance is crushing on him but is scared to admit it so he acts way more "bro-like" with him but then drunkenly confesses at a party or something? it's ok if it's not your style love your work anyway! have a good day!
More Than Your Friend (Vance Hopper)
Pairing: Vance Hopper x M!Reader (romantic)
Word count: 1183
Description: At a party, Vance drunkenly confesses he likes his best friend, Y/N
Tags: parting, underage drinking, blood, slight internalized homophobia, confession, drunk confession, referenced homophobia, crying
~~~~~~~~~~~
“Come on man, it’ll be fun,” Vance assured you as he led you to a stranger’s house. One of Vance’s friends had told him about a party he had heard about around school and invited Vance and you to tag along.
“If you say so,” you shrugged, following behind Vance, looking around at the houses in the neighborhood.
“I do say so,” Vance smiled, his eyes now landing on a house with cars out front and loud music coming from inside. “Here we go.” You looked up at the house and then back down to Vance. This will be fun, you told yourself. I’ll have fun.
Vance motioned for you to follow him into the house, giving a nod to the assumed host as he passed him.
“Alright, let's get this shit started,” Vance laughed as he found his way to the drink table. Vance grabbed two cans of shitty, cheap beer and handed one to you. You didn’t particularly want it, but you took it anyway. You opened the can and slowly sipped at it, despising the taste, while Vance happily drank the whole can in one go.
“Shit dude,” you marveled at Vance’s ability to drink anything and everything. Vance cheered and crushed the can in his hand, tossing it to the side and grabbing another one. “Just don’t pass out on me, I don’t wanna have to drag you home.”
“Ha, I can handle my alcohol perfectly fine, dipshit,” Vance assured you, bumping his can against yours in a toast. You rolled your eyes and followed him as he entered the main crowd of the party. You continued to sip at your drink, trying to hide your face as you tasted it, as Vance walked around greeting people and getting more drinks. On the radio in the living room, you began to hear the intro to a familiar song.
“Dude, is this Sweet?” Vance asked happily, making his way over to the radio. “I fucking love this shit!” You made a small noise of surprise as Vance grabbed you by the wrist to pull you to the center of the living room to dance.
Vance was never particularly good at dancing, per se, but you loved it every time he did. Vance danced wildly to the music, his hair bouncing as he moved. You could see the red blush of alcohol on Vance’s cheeks and you suspected that was why he grew so bold. Vance normally hated dancing in public.
“One quick second,” Vance was near slurring his words. “I’m gonna get another drink, stay right here.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?” You asked, looking at Vance’s current state. “You look pretty out of it.”
“Yeah yeah, it’s just one more,” Vance said, brushing you off.
“No, V, come on, I think you’ve had enough,” you responded, trying to sound authoritative.
“I’m fine, a drink or two won’t hurt,” Vance assured you as he began to walk towards the kitchen. However, the alcohol in Vance’s system was clearly too much. As Vance walked forward, he tripped on the edge of the carpet and fell to the floor, his face hitting the wood with a small thud.
“Oh shit, hey man, you good?” You asked hurriedly as you rushed up to Vance to help him up.
“Ah, fuck, ow,” Vance mumbled, reaching up to feel his nose, which was now starting to leak blood.
“Come on,” you sighed, extending your hand to help Vance stand. “I figured this would happen at some point tonight.” Vance took your hand, clearly a little embarrassed, and allowed you to lead him to the bathroom. You tapped another party-goer on the shoulder and asked if he knew where the bathroom was. He laughed a little at Vance’s current state, but pointed down a nearby hallway and said it was the first door on the left. You thanked him and led Vance by his hand down the hallway, knocking on the door to make sure the bathroom was empty.
You opened the door and thrust Vance inside, locking the door behind the pair of you.
“Alright, take a seat,” you said, gesturing to Vance while you looked in the medicine cabinet for something you could you. Vance sat on the toilet lid and turned to face you, waiting for you to attend to his injuries.
“First of all,” you started, grabbing a piece of toilet paper and wiping the blood off Vance’s face. You lifted his chin so he was looking towards you and gently ran the paper over the bottom half of his face. Blood ran from his nose to dripping off his chin and left a red stain behind even after you had cleaned it.
Vance’s eyes were wide as he watched you and you noticed his blush deepen as your fingers ran over his lips.
“Something wrong?” You asked when you saw his cheeks turn a darker red than they already were. Vance opened his mouth, but then closed it again like he was unsure of what he should say. Vance’s eyes relaxed to their drunken, half-lidded state and he smiled at you.
“You look really pretty right now,” he said with a drunken laugh at the end of his compliment. You felt your face flush and you avoided looking into his gaze.
“Shut up, you’re drunk,” you mumbled, continuing to wipe the blood from Vance’s stained skin.
“Nah, even when I’m not drunk, you always look pretty,” Vance confided, the volume of his voice low so only you could hear.
You knew Vance was drunk, that he probably didn’t know what he was saying and that he certainly wouldn’t remember tomorrow. It hurt though. You had had a crush on Vance for years now, and here he was, calling you pretty like it was nothing.
“I think I’ve liked you since I met you, you’re amazing, Y/N,” Vance said, leaning forward to close some of the distance between you. “I know I’m not supposed to, but it feels so easy when it’s just us. I wish I could love you without it being strange or bad. I wanna be with you, like how the other boys are with their girlfriends. I wish I knew how to tell you that.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about telling me, V,” you smiled as you cleaned the last of the blood off Vance’s face. “What you will have to worry about is leaning back and holding your nose shut.”
Vance obediently leaned back and held his nose closed as he continued to look at you.
“I think I’m in love with you,” Vance whispered, and you could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes. “Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad,” you assured him. “I…I love you too, V, have for quite a while now.” Vance’s expression changed to a wide smile and a couple of tears spilled out of his eyes.
“I think you’ll have to remind me of all this shit when I’m sober,” Vance giggled, leaning his head back against the wall.
“Gladly,” you grinned in response.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! I wrote this hunched over in the library, hoping no one would notice I was writing fanfiction for tumblr, please enjoy the fruits of my sacrifice
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Been listening to "Where's My Juul" lately, so I decided to write a shitpost with the Bonten Trio.
Ran Haitani x female reader but its really just reader going off
Warning: shitty writing
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WHERE'S MY JUUL
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The music is blasting, your eardrums are trembling, these disco light blinding every surface of the club.
Today Ran Haitani decided to let loose tonight with his perfect little angel, aka you, plus his brother and that crazy pink clown ( basically dont exist, don't mind him ) in one of the well known clubs Bonten owns.
Sanzu was drug up as per usual, downing bottles of alcohol. Ran and Rindou was at the VVVIP lounge with cigarettes and hookers, having a good time. You however was on the dance floor, spilling beer with your smudged makeup and one broken heels in your tiny black dress.
Wanting to get some smoke in your system, you start reaching out your pocket for your JUUL ( specially custom made ofc) when you notice the pocket was empty. Panic start rising as you fiddle a few more seconds. Your JUUL was MISSING.
"Where's my JUUL?" You ask the girl beside you. The girl shakes her head so you ask another and another and ANOTHER AND ANOTHER. FUCKKKKK
"WHERE'S MY JUUL!!"
You begin to push everyone out the way. Some even knock over. You were getting everyone attention.
You choke the nearest person, eye to eye, and ask calmy, " Have you seen my JUUL? "
"No? "
" HehehaHAHAHA "
" YALL BETTER START LOOKING FOR MY JUUL!!! "
You push the poor guy on the floor and step on his head.
" If I find anyone holding it, I'll sLam THat bITch doWN YOUR FUCKING THROAT YOU FUCKING BASTARD! "
Them knowing you are one of Bonten Excutive lover, everyone immediately start searching. At this point you were on berserk mode and shouting at everyone and anyone.
Sanzu was at the counter when he heard your metal screams and was like " GO GURL TOTALLY GET YA!!!! " and " totally get her, I would lose my shit too if I can't find my pills , am I right? " to the guy who was desperately looking beside him. The guy was lowkey crying and pissing his pants.
You were flipping every table and smashed the beer bottles, shoving everything out the way. Security was like " uhmmm should we stop here? She is the boss gf? Don't look at me, idk either "
The metal screams reach the Haitanis extra sound proof room. Ran was like damn some crazy bitch is going hard tonight and Rindou being the logical one wondering why security isn't doing anything, not knowing it was you.
" You sure we don't need to check it out? "
" You know what, fuck it, I would like to meet a bitch who can scream like that, bet y/n would be best friend with them. "
Going outside, it is a mess. The screams were getting louder and louder. And at the center of the attention was you, stomping barefoot and flipping everyone off.
" WHERES MY JUUL!!! WHERES MY JUUL!!! SO NOT COOL!!!!! WHERES MY JUUUUUULLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "
Ran was memesrize, you were so fucking perfect, with your perfect looking hand slaping everyone, your manicure that took hours scratching everyone faces, and your cute little screams filling up the room, music to his ears. Even your angry face was so cute, how can anyone be so perfect.
He was standing at the side admiring you going offfff through his rose coloured lenses and his brother standing beside him was like what it wrong with you.
" Bro stop your gf, she's literally is making this club look like a hurricane, eyeone getting hurt. "
" Oh right, they probably deserved it anyway, look at Sanzu there cheering her on, GET THEM LOVEEE!!! "
Rindou facepalm so hard and Sanzu was on the floor laughing his ass off.
" She can't find her JUUL, can you imagine how upset she is right now? " knowing normal logic won't convince him, Rindou use tactical reasoning against Ran, begging he will actually stop them.
" Don't worry, I know where it is. Knowing her, it's probably in her bra, happen a few time before. "
Rindou was speechless at this point. Like bruĥ stop herrr I want to enjoy my day off without everyone panicking trying to find your gf JUUL when you know where it is.
Seeing you start to get a bit tired and not wanting you to wake up with a painful throat tomorrow morning, Ran decided to finally step in.
" Honey~♡ " Ran calls out and approach you.
" WHAATTTTTTT, I CANT FIND MY JUULLLL "
Your nose start sniffing at the sight of your beloved.
" Awww it's okay baby, I think its right here " he points to your bra.
Calming down, you reach in and Boom your JUUL. You smile so radiant at the sight with your smudged mascara and tears wetting your cheeks you had Ran staring still, trying to remember every detail and imprint it onto his brain.
" Thank you babyy you're the best. Sorry everyone, it was here all along. Thanks for the help tho. "
" No problem love, they probably need that workout anyway. "
Those poor souls were just glad they escape from your rage. It was a peaceful night afterwards with yall talking bout it in the VVVIP lounge.
#ran haitani x reader#ran haitani#ran and rindou#ran x reader#ran x y/n#ran x you#tr sanzu#tr ran#tr rindou#bonten#bonten trio#rindou haitani#haitani ran imagines#sanzu haruchiyo#tokyo revengers
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omg so I can't read your bobby dies fic because I am incredibly emotionally unstable, but kudos on breaking everyone I have heard Horrible/pos things congrats. I wanted to ask about your outline system that you posted about the fic? It looked SO cool what's your process with that?
Have a good day, you are incredibly talented at words and images, thanks for creating!
Thank you hehehe!! I’m glad people are liking it, sorry for all the anguish everyone!
So for awhile my only outline for proposal fic looked like this:
But that’s all just really general ideas of a scene and gives me more work to do while I’m writing because I still have to think a lot of things through. For the Bobby fic the outline was a lot more thorough, with each scene plotted out beat by beat as much as I thought would be be helpful. So something like this (sorry its going to be a little sad):
Turned into something like this:
Buck goes back to work the following Tuesday. He'd only been superficially wounded, the scrapes on his face already fading, and he'd used his three (3) working days with pay, up to a maximum of five (5) days subject to the approval of the Department Head of bereavement leave. He comes over for dinner Sunday night and when Eddie asks if he's sure Buck gives him a look like he's had to answer that question from every single person they know, but then he softens out a little, gets a little honest.
"If I don't go back now I don't think I'll ever be able to," he says quietly into his beer.
So Buck goes back, and Eddie is told by the doctor that his ribs aren't healing as well as they should - there are some pointed comments about the importance of rest - and when he leaves the office he's staring at 6 full weeks of mandatory time off, and Buck is at work, and Eddie is at home, and Bobby is dead.
Mehta has been shuffled over from the 133 while they're in between captains. Eddie's glad it's someone they know, a good man who's easy to work with, who always has good control of a scene. Eddie sits at home and tries to tell himself it's fine. He's not there with Buck and he can't do anything if something goes wrong, he's not there and he can't have his back, but Mehta is a good captain, Ravi is still there, the rest of the station is still there. It's not like him being there made a difference last time, anyway. Eddie sits at home and is helpless, and Buck goes back to work.
It's fine. Buck says it's fine as he makes dinner in Eddie's house again after the first of two shifts he'll work alone before Hen returns. Chris is doing homework at the table, so Eddie doesn't really expect him to go into any gritty uncomfortable detail, but he seems like he’s telling the truth as he says it's weird, but fine. There was a small house fire, a few minor car accidents, a gas leak. All routine.
“I feel like Maddie or whoever might've been rerouting harder calls,” he says, stirring chili. “Heard there was a thing with hikers that got messy. Out of our range I guess, but we’ve been up in the hills before.”
“I’m sure somebody else was just closer.” Eddie is sitting at the table
“I guess.” His hand looks tense as he adds whatever spice is next in the recipe floating around his head.
Later, after dinner and after Chris has gone to bed when Buck is even softer and even more honest and a Dodgers game is quiet on the tv, he whispers like he’s at confession.
“I think it's better that no one is there. It doesn’t feel like real life.” He’s looking at the screen so Eddie is watching him in side profile, and he can’t tell if the shine in his eyes is just the reflected light. “Maybe I’m just still dreaming.”
The dream, where Bobby was dead and Eddie was gone and Buck was loved by his family but he was not here, not loved by the people here who are his family. “You’re n-“
“I know I’m not.” He looks at Eddie, away from the light and his eyes are still shining. “I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
Buck shrugs and settles into the couch, eyes on the score, locking that softness back away again. He doesn’t stay the night.
So now I’m going through and making a more thorough outline for proposal fic, which will hopefully help make writing it much easier! I have so many scraps of scenes that I need to connect and string together, actually planning out how to do that instead of just staring sadly at the google doc feels productive, at least!
Also for Bobby fic i made a version of the outline with just the scene titles and bullet points as a checklist, so I’ll do that again this time too because i love to check things off a list!
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Yuri's Love of Drama as Trauma-Coping Mechanism
On Yuri’s “Dramatic” tendencies and separating himself from his past
We know Yuri loves drama and theatrics. You could say he enjoys them because that’s his personality. I mean, the man writes with a feather quill and probs does exquisite calligraphy. His long hair is tied back in a bow, a la 18th century nobleman, except for the loose pieces framing his face, and specifically wears black barrettes for that style. Black against white. That's just his personal, aristocratic style.
Take his office—it totally looks like everything he put there is there because it’s expected to be there in his position as a judge. Nothing seems cheap or is a fond, well-worn memento.
Compare that to at-home Yuri. Guy wears a flowy, Renaissance-style toggle shirt (you know he sewed it) with the front freaking hanging open, at home, with his dementia-riddled mother. That’s his idea of comfortable. Raise your hand if you think toggles are comfy lounge wear.
Compare that to vigilante-lair Yuri. The Rococo bas-relief domed interior with a light shining down centered on his desk, the backlit windows that no doubt are purely for decoration, the green lantern MOOD lighting that slays me ten ways to hell. Add it all together: nobleman’s hairstyle, fancy “comfy” clothes, writing with a quill, opulence, the verbal and visual theatrics, and you wouldn’t be blamed for saying, dramatic boys gonna dramatic.
The first thought that came into my head upon really thinking about his connection to all the above, Yuri’s “hatred” of the capitalistic system, executing folks, etc., is, this guy wants to be Robespierre. He was the elitist lawyer dude who took advantage of the French revolution to implement his bullshit, violent agenda of law and order, and eventually lost his own head in the process. I hope I’m wrong!
I would also say that Yuri indulges in all these trappings to set himself apart for his past, particularly his father. Mr. Legend was superficially, at least towards the end, embodying the stereotypical lowbrow working man* who smokes and keeps his cigs in his front pocket, has a beer belly, drinks excessively, beats his wife, and comes off as simple and uneducated, especially his black and white idea of justice being to “punish evil”. No nuance or societal justice whatsoever.
I imagine anything Yuri connected with his upbringing would bring him pain and shame. Many childhood abuse survivors grow up to eschew everything their parents were, so as to avoid becoming them, to become “better” than they ever could be. It often comes at the price of abandoning any authentic parts of themselves connected to their traumatic past. He might like swag carpet and avocado-hued appliances for all we know, but trauma-Yuri is like, nope, gimme that fancy shit and respectability. Gimme classism as an aesthetic.
The fact that he STAYS in his dark, trauma-haunted, depressing af, wood-paneled home for the sake of secrecy and his mother must bring him daily suffering. I don’t doubt his vigilante lair is in the basement, a haven he can run to to remind himself, see, I’M educated. I’m better. I’m not like THAT rabble. Look at all my books! I’d never be so lowbrow, so unrespectable, so, so...common. He wears his freaking work suit(s) there—not even comfy clothes. That place is his validation zone.
Not only does his elitism set him apart from his father and past, it sets him above all others, making it easier to run around killing folks as Lunatic. I’m BETTER than you. I know best. Only I can deliver true justice. That smacks of self-protection run sociopathic. A mechanism of injecting self-worth and righteousness into himself using literal lives as props. It also justifies killing, rightfully so, his abusive POS father.
And yet, AND yet, he still upholds his father’s black and white sense of justice: an eye for an eye. Like, my dude, where do extenuating circumstances come in? How can you just go around inflicting your trauma on everyone and call that justice and yet someone who does something similar to survive, or that’s all they’ve known or have access to is a criminal?
I think Yuri is caught in some loop that makes it impossible to see this reality. He needs to be better, he MUST punish evil to be better. But he never figured out for himself what evil is, simply accepted his abusive father's version. It's more cognitive dissonance hissing away in his life, distorting reality.
Killing his father never needed justification, but he’s continually searching for validation through reenacting that act of self-defense as murder then calling it justice, and validation is a helluva drug. Whether he's getting validation through the act of murder or his perceived respectability by class elitism, it's all a coping mechanism that elevates him above his trauma.
He will never admit these truths to himself with where he’s at now in his healing journey, because there’s still an empathetic kindness that’s intrinsic to who Yuri is. To admit his Lunatic doings are just a means of validating to himself he isn’t a useless, unlovable nobody? I imagine that if he were forced to accept that now his psyche could shatter instead of being barely held together by spit and will power.
If Yuri actually is the kind, empathetic person we see glimpses of in the manga and anime who wants to “rid the world of evil”, he’s gonna need to realize good and evil are constructs. Which Keith alludes to in the manga.
There’s being beneficial to society as a whole and being harmful, not “good” or “evil”. Yuri’ll HAVE to realize justice is most importantly a beginning and not just an end. He’ll have to realize that his persona, or at least the inauthentic parts he cultivates to exude class and respectability, are a huge part of the problems he wants to change and faces daily in and out of court.
This cognitive dissonance cannot escape him and must take a heavy toll. Everyone needs to deal with their emotions, hopefully healthily, and Lunatic is another of his better-than-you coping mechanisms that lets him go ham using the emotions he doesn’t allow himself to acknowledge, articulate, process, or share with anyone. That's peak privilege using others as your trauma-cope and calling it justice.
I don’t think the Lunatic persona is necessarily NOT part of Yuri, but actually one he can’t afford to face head on, examine, and integrate at the mo’. I don't even think Lunatic is his "dark side" as much as his internal protector run amuck, high on that sweet righteousness.
Everything Yuri, and his protector, does is to enforce he’s not like his father or his upbringing. He’s a sensitive man who was a sensitive boy, which from what we saw, his father was not. Child abuse and witnessing abuse as a child is always horrific, and when that child is sensitive, the abuse is magnified and internalized in ways that are very difficult to shake. In extreme forms we call it PTSD. The hallucinations, flashbacks, etc.? The repeating of habits and patterns from your abuser? Classic PTSD. It does NOT get better on it's own nor even with the help of loving friends or coworkers.
We see it in his people pleasing, despite having power, or maybe because of it. We see it in when he engages with the heroes, and when he shrugs off thanks. It’s there in the manga where he says he won’t escape his punishment or even try to. We see it in season 2, cour 1, when Kotetsu confronts him about doing something about Mugan and Fugan and Yuri looks helpless and comes across as sullen and angry. I reckon it’s at himself for not knowing the best course of action. Being helpless feels awful to him.
We can agree the man is soft in the best ways, and if he can ever figure out what’s him, what’s trauma, what are healthy coping mechanisms (being an elitist, murdering prick in order to feel validated is not on that list), and how to integrate it all, he’ll be a strong, kind, man who has access to all of himself. He’ll be horrified by what he’s done, be able to forgive himself, and try to make amends.
He might even become a vigilante that goes after corrupt politicians, slimy marketers, lobbyists, and corporate heads, not killing them, but ruining them socially so they can do no further harm. He could even start advocating for restorative justice as Judge Petrov. He could start having one-on-ones with the heroes as Director Petrov and slowly get them to become more socially-minded as a whole instead of being cogs making money for people they’ll never meet. That’s an integration of his whole, authentic self I can get behind. I'd watch that spinoff series, #Sunrise!
I do think upholding justice is a part of Yuri, a justice that starts in local policy, community, and is a thread throughout everything he does. That’s what good, kind, empathetic people do. They create social justice. To do so, he’ll need to grapple with his privilege—both what he was born into and what he’s cultivated, and to realize the societal problems he despises stem from an inequity he possesses the power to change. That change starts with accepting the inequity perpetuated upon him and by him. And therapy, soooo much therapy.
*This is bullshit as “upper” class folks can also be abusive alcoholics and working folks can most certainly be educated, loving, and sober. Fuck classist stereotypes.
#tiger and bunny#yuri petrov#taibani#lunatic#Yuri could be a literal social justice warrior#You can change the system Yuri and prevent crime once you stop mainlining coping mechanisms#Therapy for Yuri#Yuri is part of the system he hates and can't admit it yet#I love you taibani scholars#Yuri enjoyers and your theories get me outta bed in the morning
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Playing The Numbers
Dear Future Husband,
I hate money.
I mean, obviously I don’t hate what money can get for me, I just hate dealing with it, calculating it, and, well, dealing with it. Did I mention dealing with it?
I’ve had a business idea for a while (several actually, but one in particular) and since I’ve been having some weird stuff happening at work recently, I’ve been putting more time towards the research and development of said business.
And everything is money.
That probably sounds stupid, because it’s a business, so of course it’s about money - net profit is the end goal, so you have to be serious about your expenses and find every possible way to bring in as much cash as you can, or else what was the point in opening the business in the first place?
But at the same time, money is exhausting.
Itemizing everything that would be an expense so I can know how much to get for a start-up business loan is insane.
The business is kind of a hybrid of service and product. Without actually detailing what I’m working on, I’ll use this as an example:
Imagine you have a bar that also offers games. So you could go to just buy some beers and hang out or you could go and learn a new game or join a game.
So you’ve got the drinks and snacks, which are products, and you charge a sitting fee so people can come and play the games.
In this case, you have no idea how popular this will be, right? So you have to guesstimate how many people you think you could get in everyday, maybe more on the weekends and holidays, for party rental, etc. Maybe you even offer classes so people can learn new games.
And you also have to calculate how much of everything you need, so which brands of alcohol are you going to buy, what quantity of each do you need (well, no idea who’s going to order what, and do you even have a stock room big enough to have enough of all the things?), you also need the cups and the glasses and the snacks (which snacks? how many of each?) and the bowls and the coasters and the napkins and the towels and cleaning supplies and purchase all the games and then maybe you invest in a 3d printer in case game pieces go missing and you want to print some replacements, etc.
That doesn’t even include the initial setup of the place, which will most likely have to be redone if the location wasn’t previously a bar or had party rooms, and even if it was a bar before, is it oriented the way you want?
So I’ve been itemizing. So. Many. Things.
Maybe too many things, but thorough is better, no?
At this point, based on pure speculation for how popular my business is going to be (because honestly, who even knows?) my guesstimation is that between “sitting fee” (also membership for people who want to come in regularly and want to save a bit on the “sitting fee”) and “classes” and “party rental” and “drinks and snacks” I can bring in around $400,000 a year in gross profits.
That seems impressive.
As someone who grew up pretty much dirt poor and has never had more than like $1,500 in my bank, and even THAT is a rarity, I can’t even fathom bringing in close to half a million dollars.
But then you have to calculate expenses.
And between lease, payroll, internet, phone, insurance, security, pos system, marketing, bookkeeping, office supplies, food supplies, cleaning supplies, etc, I’m at around $250,000 in expenses without even including loan payback.
And that also doesn’t include renovation of the space, which would depend on location, but still probably have to come out of my pocket.
And I know not all businesses make money the first year. And I know there’s an initial investment of a lot of money that becomes less as time goes on (spending thousands on games but then the games belong to you, so your investment in future games will be less out of pocket annually), but also...
I need to make money.
Some people have the freedom to start and close businesses on a whim, but if I put my time and energy into something like this, I need it to be successful because I literally cannot afford anything else.
I was trying to guesstimate how much money I personally would make from an endeavor such as this, and I conservatively chose $60,000.
First of all, that’s so much money!
Second of all, that’s not enough money.
So let’s discuss why that is.
Let’s start with taxes:
I played with the calculations myself and then used a tax calculator from Forbes and got a different amount in the same price range. Because I could be doing it wrong, let’s use the Forbes amounts.
On a salary of $60,000 a year*, I’d be paying around $5,968 to federal taxes and $2,534 to state taxes.
That leaves me with $51,498.
First things first, 10% to tzedaka. That’s $5,149.80 right off the bat.
That leaves me with $46,448.
As soon as I can afford it, I’m moving out of my current situation. I don’t know if I could buy a place right away, but I need space to breathe, so I would look for somewhere to rent in the meantime. Rent in my area has been around $2000/mo lately and going up. So let’s guesstimate $26,000/yr just for rental. (And that’s hoping it’s furnished. If not, I’ll have to pay more to furnish the place.)
That leaves me with $20,348.
Then we have to include utilities. At the very least heat/ac, which in my area is conservatively $2200 annually.
That leaves me with $18,148.
Let’s talk kosher food. Right now I pay a large chunk of the grocery bill and it comes to at least $200/wk. I should probably be rebudgetting and adjusting this, but in the meantime, that’s around $10,400/year just for food for the family. If I lived on my own, I’d guesstimate cutting that at least in half, if not by thirds. So, let’s be go wide here, just to be on the safe side and put it at $5,000 annually.
That leaves me with $13,148.
When it comes to cars, I would need a new one. By new, that means new to me, not actually brand spankin’ new. A lot of places I’ve been looking show that a car lease would be around $475/mo plus a deposit for a car that isn’t even new. Most have contracts for 2+ years, so I’m looking at a minimum of 24 months on a contract. So for one year, that’s still around $5,800.
That leaves me with $7,348.
I have credit cards to pay off that I’m appalled to say have gotten ridiculously high, and although I could do higher payments than usual without paying off the full amount, I would get some major peace of mind. Regardless, if I just paid about $75/mo to each one for the first year, that’s $3,600,
That leaves me with $3,748.
Not to mention if I start making that much per year, my student loans wouldn’t be deferrable anymore and I’d have to start paying those.
And I haven’t even factored in insurance.
This doesn’t include regular toiletries, cleaning supplies, gas, the moving costs to get all my stuff to a new place and/or furnish it with things I don’t have like couches and kitchen utensils... just basic other living expenses.
And without a safety net, I’d be stuck, so I can’t even take that $3,000 and invest it in anything.
$60,000 a year and I’m still barely making it.
That’s insane!
Like, it doesn’t even make sense!
And the thing is, that it’s easy to say “so just don’t _____ for the first year” but let’s play out those scenarios:
Don’t get a new car.
Ok, so I’m either stuck still sharing a vehicle with MotherLivelyHeart (which is an absolute joke - have I told that story?) or I have to uber/lyft all the time, which is also not cost effective. Add to that, I can only share the vehicle if I live in the same general area as MotherLivelyHeart, and that would depend on finding a place within reasonable distance.
Don’t get a new place.
Ok, so I’m stuck in the same position I am right now, with MotherLivelyHeart breathing down my neck all the time. If I’m running a business like this one, I will not be able to function if I’m still living with my mother. She always has “ideas” and feels like my ideas are part hers too, so if I’m making money here, she has to insert herself somehow to make money also. Everything is an idea for money and I need to be able to breathe. I need space. I need the nagging to stop. I need the micromanaging to stop. I need to be self-sufficient.**
Don’t get a new place by yourself - find a roommate.
At the moment, I’m so done with living with people. I don’t want to be beholden to anyone and I don’t want anyone being beholden to me. I don’t want them to be inviting strangers into my space, and I don’t want to have to deal with the dynamics of “who’s been drinking my milk” or “who’s stuff is in the washer when I need it” or “whose turn is it to take out the garbage” or “who didn’t refill the toilet paper” etc. I just need space, especially if I’m running a full time business at the same time. If I were getting married, that would be different, but that’s not even an option while I’m dealing with a startup, so... yeah, no.
And these may seem like excuses, but I know myself and I know that any of those living situations put me in a position of being extra-stressed. And if I’m stressed, I’ll implode and stop going out and stop showing up and stop doing what the business needs and it’ll close, making me not only a public failure, but also still broke.
So it’s exhausting.
I know I need a mentor and I’ve been looking for someone who could guide me, but even something like the Jewish Women Entrepreneurs charge money to be a part of their little gang, when all I need is someone to guide me through this whole thing who has experience and expertise and will help me avoid major pitfalls I can’t even see because I’ve never done this before and don’t even know what to look for. (Is it a vine or a snake? Not a clue.)
So it’s a lot.
But the money isn’t.
Which is insane! (I think I’ve mentioned that already...)
And I know that the net profits are technically also mine and that I wouldn’t even be on the payroll as an employee per se, but at the same time, I need to be able to reinvest most of those profits back into the business and I want to be able to put myself on a reasonable pay scale.
But it’s no wonder people are complaining about inflation and tuition costs and everything. At $60,000 a year, I, as a single person, would barely be making it. And these are with conservative numbers! Odds are some of the taxes would be higher, gas prices fluctuate, I might have to pay for water wherever I live, etc.
There are so many unpredictable contingencies and at the end of the day, I’d still be barely scraping by, despite making significantly more than I do currently.
I know some of these expenses would go away after the first year (like furniture and kitchen utensils are usually a one-time buy), but at the end of the day I’d still be paying almost 1/6 of my take-home in taxes and 10% of that to tzedaka (which would be very exciting because it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to consistently pay 10% of my salary to tzedaka). And still around 55% of my salary to a roof over my head and food on my table.
And what would that mean for my employees!?
I want to pay a livable wage, especially if I can find trustworthy people who will be full time employees at this joint, and I know their expenses are none of my business, but if I manage to find someone able to work for $50,000 a year, is that even a livable wage!? And if I pay them less, will they have to find other jobs to supplement what I’m paying them? And if they’re stressed with multiple jobs, are they the best employees? Would I have to look for college kids who are living at home to work for me? Do I even want to deal with that population of GenZ in the work place?
I know I’m an over-thinker.
I know I stress about the wrong things at the wrong times and all that, but these are genuine concerns of mine.
And this is just the research phase!
I don’t even have an official location or full business plan or appointments for financing or any of that!
But this is all still an investment of time and energy and I need to know that the outcome will be worth it.
I’m hoping it’s all rainbows and sunshine at the other end, but I know better and I need to be at least partially prepared.
It’s also crazy to be making huge plans like this while there’s so much global uncertainty and we’re also supposed to believe that Moshiach is coming today!
Like, why would I be investing time and energy into something here when we’re all going to fly to Israel on the wings of an eagle and live happily ever after there?
And all this as a single woman in my 30s.
My family knows about this business idea, as do a couple of my friends, but I don’t do well when there’s pressure from other people. I can’t handle the expectations and assumptions, so I haven’t told anyone I’ve been doing this kind of work lately.
I just kind of want to do it and then let people know.
So I’m really alone in this.
It would be so amazing to have a partner to bounce ideas off of. It would be so amazing to have a partner to work with. Someone who I could trust with everything from my heart to my money.
But I don’t.
And it’s possible that going through this process will make me enough to be self-sufficient and put me in a better mental health space to be able to open myself up to the possibility of marriage. But all of that is conjecture. I just kind of have to do it.
I just wish I had some kind of decent support system to help me through this right now. It’s very lonely and very stressful and this is before anything is even officially in the works. I can’t imagine how much better/worse it’ll be.
I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.
-LivelyHeart
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*This would come out to about $5000 a month, or $1250 a week. Guesstimating I’ll be working about 60hrs a week, that comes to just under $21/hr. Not a terrible salary, but if I work more hours than that, the $/hr goes down. 70hrs of work/wk puts me at just under $18/hr.
**The crazy thing is, I still do majority of the shopping and cooking. I can have an insane week at work and come home every single day and still have to “forage” for food in the fridge and pantry. Despite living with two other people, if I cook, I cook for everyone, if they cook, they cook for themselves. I cook for myself, I clean for myself, I put gas in the car, I pay for oil changes and repairs... the only benefit to living here is not having to pay rent, though MotherLivelyHeart has initiated conversations previously inferring I should be paying rent despite paying the electric bill, which has been going up. Unrelated, but kind of related, have we discussed how when it’s humid outside, it rains in my room? I’ll have to look back at previous posts to see, because that’s a whole story. And it’s been on-going for like 4-5 years.
#jumblr#frumblr#orthodox#jewish#frum#dating#shidduch dating#shidduch#shadchan#shadchanim#shidduchim#jewish dating#i am the shidduch crisis
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Webhead Chronicles #23
Title: Webhead Chronicles #23
Fandom: The Amazing Spiderman
Pairing: Tasm!Peter Parker x OFC!
Author: @sheerfreesia007
Words: 3,137
Warnings: Violence, implied sexual assault, injury
Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien
Author Notes: This was really cathartic to write out. Not sure why but I enjoyed writing it.
Gif Credit: @groove-mp3
It’s late at night when Ev finally gets out of work for the day. She had started working at a mechanic shop about a twenty minute walk from her house about a month ago when her mother had threatened to beat the crap out of her for clearing away her beer bottles too early one night. Ev had talked to her Dad on the phone telling him that living with her Mom was becoming too much for her and she wanted to stay with him. He had been reluctant because he was living in a studio apartment on Staten Island and she would have to change schools. He didn’t want to completely upset her life but he knew he had to do something about her mother's threatening behavior. So he had managed to get her a job with his old highschool friend who owned a few mechanic shops in Queens and Brooklyn.
Her Dad knew that this wouldn’t completely solve the problem of her Mom but it would get her out of the house and away from her Mom for the time being. He was making moves with his job to be able to move back to Queens and would be able to get a place to share with Ev but it was slowly coming together much to his displeasure. And her mom had been kicking up a fuss whenever Ev would spend time away from the house at Aunt May’s. So he couldn’t tell her to sleepover at Aunt May’s for long otherwise her mom would cause problems for Aunt May.
So Ev had started working part time at the mechanic shop twenty minutes from the house, she was currently the front desk personnel and kept track of the computer system as well as all the paperwork for every car that the shop worked on. She wasn’t truly happy since she’d rather be under a hood working on the cars but with her arm still in a cast for at least three more weeks she was stuck working the front desk. When Ev thought about it she was grateful for the opportunity to start working and giving a legitimate reason to be away from her mom. Plus the money she made from her job she was able to spend and save how she wanted, it was giving her more independence in life.
Tonight she had stayed a little later to finish storing and filing all of the old paperwork for the shop from years prior. It was a large task and Gregg the owner had given her a set of keys to lock up the shop when she was ready to leave, he had told her that after the first week of her working he trusted her completely with his shop and hoped to offer her a mechanic position when her cast came off. So as she gathered her bag and laptop that she had been using to help keep track of the filing system for the shop she grabbed her keys and cellphone before pressing number 2 on her contacts speed dial.
“Hey Ev!” Peter answered, sounding breathless and she grinned while rolling her eyes. “Are you finally leaving the shop now?” he asked, definitely sounding out a breath now.
“Are you swinging right now? Or fighting?” Ev asked curiously as she shook her head at his antics.
“Just swinging, I webbed another car jacker to the 10th precinct building for the po-po to handle and I just got done breaking up a drunk and disorderly fight over by a bar called The Alibi. Funny right?! That’s a really clever name for a bar don’t ya think?”” Peter began to ramble on to her making her chuckle softly that this had become so second nature to him now.
“Pete, don’t talk and swing. Yes I’m leaving now I’ll see ya on my way home.” she scolded him softly before hanging up. She didn’t hear his concerned protest as she hung up her cellphone and opened up the shop door. Quickly turning she stuck her key in the door and locked it before dropping the keys in her backpack. Swinging it over her shoulder she began walking down the sidewalk taking her normal route home that she had been taking since she started working at the shop.
When Peter had found out that she got a part time job and worked after school he had begun showing up on her walks home as Spiderman to make sure she got home safely. The two of them fell into an easy routine of walking home together, Ev would usually get off work earlier than Peter got done patrolling and he would wind up meeting her on her route home.
Now as Ev began her walk home she quietly surveyed her surroundings, Peter had been drilling into her head that she had to stay alert while walking home because there were people around her job who weren’t the most savory type of people. Plus he always got nervous when she walked by herself, Ev liked to think of it as payback for always making her worry about him when he went on patrols.
But normally it was a quiet ten minute walk before Peter showed up as Spiderman to continue walking her home. Unfortunately tonight seemed to be the exact opposite of normal for her.
Ev noticed the heavy set guy across the street as she reached Mrs. Chang’s bodega at the corner near her job. He had been leaning up against the corner lightpost diagonally from Ev as she greeted Mrs. Chang who was out sweeping in front of her entrance. The man had perked up when he heard Ev and Mrs. Chang talking together and began watching Ev closely.
“You get home safe now!” Mrs. Chang said happily as a customer stood at her register and she moved to quickly help them. Ev took notice of the man watching her closely and then crossing the street to get onto the same side as her as she continued walking on. Slipping her hand in her jacket pocket Ev kept tense as her fingers closed around the can of mace that her Dad had gotten for her when she got the job. He knew that the area around her job wasn’t that bad but he’d rather her be careful especially with her arm still in a cast.
Just as Ev was passing a dark alleyway she felt the air change and knew almost like a premonition that the man was going to grab her. She felt him get a hold of her backpack and yank her into the alleyway, slamming her against the brick wall. Gasping harshly as her back slammed hard into the brick wall Ev ducked instinctively as the man moved to corner her against the wall and she pulled out the mace can. She aimed it straight at his face as he turned to grab onto her again before spraying him in the face.
Ev knew that she would be affected by the mace as well because she was in close quarters with the man and the mace but she knew that she had some time before it would completely incapacitate her. What she hadn’t been expecting was the man wildly swinging his arms at her as he yelled in pain from the mace.
The man turned in a circle yelling as his hands came up to his eyes effectively spreading the mace further along his face causing him more pain. Ev moved away from him as quickly as she could but she wasn’t quick enough, the man grabbed onto her backpack and yanked her back towards him making her yelp in surprise as she fell to the ground.
“You stupid bitch!” The man roared angrily as he stood over her hunched over from the pain before he threw a punch straight into her stomach making her cry out in pain. “Couldn’t just be a good little girl could you?! I would’ve made it painless for you but now you’re gonna feel everything I give you.” He yelled at her in pure rage as he swung his clenched fists down at her body. He managed to get one hit to her left eye which made stars burst in her vision before she defensively covered herself while he continued to wail away blindly on her.
Ev tried to turn and move away from the man as she screamed for help. Her arms were raised up around her head as she hunched over on the ground not letting him get a good hit on her again. She even kicked her feet out at his ankles and managed to knock him backwards on his ass before he roared angrily once more.
Ev quickly jumped to her feet and tried to dodge the man as he advanced on her breathing heavily. Ev could feel her face on the left side starting to swell from his punch earlier and her lip was split at the corner as blood trickled into her mouth causing her to taste copper on her tongue. Pain radiated throughout her body but she knew how to defend herself and wouldn’t allow this lowlife to take her down.
“C’mere you little bitch!” He snapped angrily at her as he lunged for her. Ev dodged his arms but he tripped her making her fall to the ground once more where he fell on top of her. She screamed loudly hoping to catch someone’s attention as she felt the man start to grope her through her large sweatshirt as he huffed and puffed behind her. Ev could see a shadow moving towards the entrance of the alleyway and she screamed to catch the person’s attention as she tried to get out from under the man.
“Hey!” The person shouted and the man paused to see who it was. Ev used the distraction to throw her elbow back harshly into the man’s face hearing a sickening crunch and the man began screaming in pain. She quickly moved from her position once she felt his weight release on her back and she ran towards the person at the entrance of the alleyway. Protective arms wrapped around her and Ev tried to jerk away from them but she spotted the red and blue spandex suit through her swelling eyelid. Tears began to fill her eyes in relief as she recognized Peter. “I got you, relax. I got you.” He said soothingly as he hugged her tightly to him as she sobbed loudly.
There was movement behind her and Ev cowered away in fear as Peter guided her back behind him as he faced her attacker. Ev gently touched the long black legs on the spider on his back as she kept hidden behind him. She quietly focused on the emblem on his to try and calm herself down as her fingers traced it with quick strokes.
“Fuck off man! She’s mine!” Snapped the man angrily and Ev felt Peter tense under her fingers. Peter didn’t respond to the man and Ev heard the guy shuffled closer to the two of them. “You can’t protect her.” Sneered the man as he stepped closer to the two of them.
“Like hell I can’t.” Peter snapped and he lunged forward pummeling the man into the brick wall at the side. Ev gasped softly as her eyes widened while she watched Peter continuously punch her attacker. He was grunting and panting as his fists flew into the man at lightning speeds and all Ev could do was watch in shock.
She’d never seen Peter this angry or violent. He was always the peacekeeper in their relationship, always the one trying to stop the bullying or fights that happened at school. Ev was the one who was more violent or would use ways to subdue someone. This was such a shock that it froze her as she watched the man become unconscious after a harsh punch from Peter’s fist. It was that sight that broke her out of her shock though and she rushed over to Peter grabbing onto his arm that he had cocked back to let fly another punch.
“Spider-Man!” She cried out harshly as she tried to restrain his arm. His head whipped over to her as he panted underneath the suit. The two of them were quiet as they stared at each other, Ev’s eyes wide with the remnants of her shock. Peter lowered his arm slowly and turned towards her as she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. She felt his arms wrap around her back before his hands slowly slid up to cup the sides of her face.
“Oh Ev.” He lamented softly as he gently tilted her face from side to side to see the extent of her injuries.
“I’m okay, I’m okay. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch but I’m okay. You saved me.” She reassured him hurriedly as tears fell from her eyes. The adrenaline from the fight with the guy was starting to wear off and Ev felt as if her body weighed a thousand pounds.
“C’mon we gotta get you home and cleaned up. Let me just web this guy to the alleyway, the cops will be doing their patrol in a few hours. They’ll find him then.” Peter said soothingly as he turned to the man and grabbed his legs to drag him out towards the entrance of the alleyway. Ev followed slowly watching as the man was dragged along the dirty ground of the alleyway feeling a sense of satisfaction that he’d be the dirtiest guy in lockup tonight.
When Peter finished webbing the man to the brick wall by the hand he turned to Ev and began guiding her down the sidewalk. The two of them were silent as they walked and Ev was thankful that he didn’t suggest he swing them home. She didn’t think she could handle facing her fear of heights right now on top of everything else that happened tonight.
When they finally got back to her house Ev walked in through the front while Peter climbed up the side of the house where her window was. He was already there waiting for her with the first aid kit and her lights were all on. His mask was also off and he was watching her with careful quiet eyes. He patted the side of the bed nearest the window and right next to her bedside lamp.
Ev dropped her backpack to the floor by her door before she slipped her shoes off and walked over to him before sitting down heavily. Peter grabbed her desk chair and pulled it over to sit right in front of her as his eyes danced all around her face silently.
“I need to make sure that you don’t have anything broken or any major cuts on you. Can you tell me where he hit you?” Peter said softly and sounded as if he was going to start crying. Numbly Ev began to raise her hoodie and Peter instantly reached out to help her remove it. He watched with worried eyes as she lifted her AC/DC band t-shirt to show him her stomach where there was a large bruise starting to form. He sucked in a harsh breath and gently grazed his fingers along the bruise making her flinch. “Sorry, sorry. It looks like it’s just going to bruise and be sore for a few days. Is there anywhere else he hit you?”
Ev shook her head silently as tears began to fall from her eyes now as she gestured at her face. Peter’s eyebrows crumpled on his forehead as he frowned sorrowfully at her. He nodded his head and began cleaning her split lip and titling her head from side to side to check for any other injuries. When he was done he stood and gathered a pair of pjs for her before giving her space while he returned the first aid kit to the bathroom.
Ev slowly changed into her pjs before climbing into her bed and bundling herself up in her blankets as she sat with her back against the headboard. Peter came back into her room dressed in a Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt and gray sweatpants. He moved to the side of the bed and climbed in next to her as his arms wrapped around blanket covered body. He turned on her tv and the two of them sat there together in silence as a rerun played on the screen.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you got out of work. I’ll make sure that I finish up early enough to meet you at the door from now on.” He said softly to her and Ev peeked up at him as he stared at the tv.
“Pete, I left my job that’s not on you.” She reassured him softly and he shook his head adamantly. When he turned his head to stare at her Ev gasped softly at the resolute look that clouded his eyes.
“I’m supposed to protect you. And you were attacked on my watch. I’m so sorry Ev.” He said softly as he stared into her eyes. “I thought the absolute worst when I heard you screaming. I was about ten blocks away when I heard you scream and I swear I’ve never swung as fast as I did tonight. I was terrified that I was going to swing up to your murder.” He confessed softly as he buried his face in her hair. He sucked in harsh breaths as he tried to calm himself down as he held her in his arms. “I thought the absolute worst was happening. I kinda went crazy when I saw him on top of you.”
“Yeah it was a little shocking seeing you like that but I totally understand. I’d be the same way if it was you getting beat up.” Ev reassured him as she leaned her head against his gently. “But I’m okay. I promise. I’m just gonna need to look up how to put on concealer for my eye.”
“I can totally help with that.” Peter said quickly and Ev looked at him skeptically as he laughed softly. “Remember when I would help out the theater club when you would do your engineer meetups after school?” He asked gently and Ev chuckled softly before groaning softly in pain as her split lip throbbed. “They made me help the makeup artists with the costume makeup. I can totally blend the right shade on your eye.” He said confidently as he gazed down at her making sure that she was okay before cuddling her close and resting his head on top of hers as they both zoned out to the rerun before falling asleep.
#my writing#webhead chronicles#tasm!peter parker x ofc#tasm!peter parker#the amazing spiderman#marvel
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this is so stupid. I should’ve just got a fucking ticket & have to take a class & maybe some community service and that’s it. revoking my right to drive for an entire year over speeding through an area literally everyone speeds through simply bc I had 2 beers in my system is insane. how many people do you know have had 2 beers then drove home? it’s not illegal to drink & drive it’s illegal to be INTOXICATED & drive and I was not intoxicated. it was a speed trap & they were trying to make a dui quota the week I got pulled over. the cop was even heard talking about it like a game or competition on his fucking body cam and talking about me like I wasn’t even a person with his stupid pig buddies. fucking bullshit ass corrupt system just feeding off of citizens for money like a god damn parasite taking everything. also how are you going to know if so drink or not? bitch alcohol is out of your system after like, a day. how is my PO going to know everywhere I go and everything I fucking do. fucking idiots. it’s just a way to shake us down you can not convince me otherwise.
#they’re sure as fuck not concerned about safety bc they don’t do shit when creepy ass men follow women home#not to mention doesn’t your field have one of the highest rates of DV#fucking pigs
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Maximize Your Bar's Potential: Best Bar Equipment Suppliers
Maximizing the potential of your bar requires more than just serving great drinks; it's about creating an atmosphere that keeps customers coming back for more. The backbone of any successful bar operation lies in its equipment, and choosing the right suppliers can make all the difference. Let's explore some of the best bar equipment suppliers and how they can help elevate your establishment.
First and foremost, reliability is key when selecting bar equipment suppliers. You need to ensure that the equipment you purchase is of high quality, durable, and built to withstand the rigors of a bustling bar environment. One top-tier supplier known for their reliability is "BarProducts.com". With a vast selection of bar equipment ranging from essential tools like shakers and strainers to specialty items like garnish trays and flair bartending kits, BarProducts.com offers everything a bar needs to operate smoothly.
In addition to reliability, efficiency is paramount in the fast-paced world of bartending. "KegWorks" is a supplier renowned for their focus on efficiency, offering a wide range of draft beer systems, kegerators, and bar refrigeration solutions. By investing in quality draft beer equipment from KegWorks, you can streamline your bar's operations, reduce waste, and deliver consistently fresh and delicious beer to your customers.
Another crucial aspect of running a successful bar is maintaining a stylish and inviting ambiance. "WebstaurantStore" is a leading supplier that excels in providing trendy and aesthetically pleasing bar equipment and furniture. From sleek bar stools and chic cocktail tables to eye-catching neon signs and mood lighting, WebstaurantStore offers everything you need to create a visually stunning bar environment that keeps customers coming back for more.
Moreover, staying ahead of the curve in terms of technology can give your bar a competitive edge. "Revention" is a supplier specializing in point-of-sale (POS) systems specifically designed for bars and restaurants. With features like customizable menus, inventory management, and integrated payment processing, Revention's POS systems can help streamline your bar's operations, improve efficiency, and enhance the overall customer experience.
In addition to equipment suppliers, beverage suppliers play a crucial role in maximizing your bar's potential. "Southern Glazer's Wine & Spirits" is one of the largest beverage distributors in the world, offering a vast selection of wines, spirits, and mixers to suit every taste and budget. By partnering with Southern Glazer's, you can access a diverse range of high-quality beverages, stay informed about the latest industry trends, and receive personalized support and guidance from their team of experts.
Furthermore, sustainability is becoming increasingly important in the hospitality industry, and eco-friendly bar equipment suppliers like "Barfly Mixology Gear" are leading the way. Barfly's line of premium bar tools is crafted from sustainable materials like stainless steel and bamboo, offering a more environmentally friendly alternative to traditional barware. By investing in sustainable bar equipment from suppliers like Barfly, you can reduce your bar's carbon footprint and appeal to environmentally conscious customers.
In conclusion, maximizing your bar's potential requires careful consideration when selecting equipment suppliers. Whether you prioritize reliability, efficiency, aesthetics, technology, sustainability, or a combination of these factors, there are suppliers out there that can meet your needs and help take your bar to the next level. By partnering with the best bar equipment suppliers, you can ensure that your bar is well-equipped to deliver exceptional drinks, service, and experiences to your customers, keeping them coming back for more.
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Krotko i zwiezle wiadomosci z Izraela dzien po dniu 19.4 - 20.4
Izrael przeprowadził „ograniczony” atak na Iran
Izraelskie samoloty bojowe zbombardowały system radarowy obrony powietrznej w pobliżu Isfahanu w Iranie.
„Pracownikom rządu USA i członkom ich rodzin obowiązuje zakaz osobistych podróży poza większe obszary Tel Awiwu (w tym Herzlija, Netanja i Nawet Jehuda), Jerozolimę i Beer Szewa do odwołania” – oznajmia ambasada USA.
Atak na Iran „miał…
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Fartworld - Fart Rescue
At Fartworld HQ we are absolutely enamored with Jon Taffer, host of the reality show Bar Rescue. It would be easy to go on for days about Jon’s staggering presence he brings to each episode, but J.T. lives, breathes, and probably even dreams about bars. When he sees a bar in trouble, it's not just a business problem—it's a personal challenge. He's like a knight charging into battle to save the kingdom of booze from mediocrity.
In the early seasons J.T. can be seen as a crass, and Gordon Ramesy-esque knob whose only job is to be condescending to the bar’s owner & its employees. However, over the years as we’ve studied this show we found the J.T. to sort soften that gruff exterior & put more energy & focus into the redemption of the bar.
In so, Fartworld would like to honor J.T. as he is shot of tequila in a sea of light beer. We can only hope that he’ll swoop in and shut our ‘bar’ down to install a POS system, and perhaps install a wet bar or two!
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#muzak#harsh noise#peoria#experimental#bar rescue#reality television#jon taffer#paramount+#dance music
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Criteria for hiring bartenders
Hiring a bartender is a crucial process for any establishment that serves drinks. Bartenders for hire play a central role in creating a positive customer experience, managing the bar efficiently, and contributing to the venue’s overall atmosphere. To ensure the success of your bar and customer satisfaction, consider the following criteria when hiring bartenders.
Experience and Skills:
Mixology Expertise: A strong understanding of mixology and the ability to craft a wide range of cocktails is essential. Look for candidates with a diverse skill set who can create classic and innovative drinks.
Speed and Efficiency: Bartenders should work efficiently, especially during busy hours. Experience in high-volume environments and the ability to multitask while maintaining drink quality is crucial.
Product Knowledge: A knowledgeable bartender hire understands different types of alcohol, beer, and wine. They can recommend drinks, suggest pairings, and answer customer questions about the menu.
Customer Service:
Personality and Communication Skills: Bartenders need excellent interpersonal skills to engage with customers. A friendly and approachable demeanor enhances the overall customer experience.
Problem-Solving Abilities: The ability to handle customer complaints or difficult situations with tact and professionalism is vital. Look for candidates who remain calm under pressure and can resolve issues effectively.
Adaptability:
Flexibility in Schedule: Bars often have varying hours, and bartenders should be willing to work evenings, weekends, and holidays. A flexible schedule is essential for meeting the demands of the hospitality industry.
Adaptability to Venue Atmosphere: Whether your bar is a laid-back pub or an upscale lounge, Bartenders for hire should adapt to the venue's atmosphere and cater to the clientele's preferences.
Legal Compliance: Age and Legal Requirements: Ensure that candidates meet the legal drinking age and any other legal requirements for serving alcohol in your location. Familiarity with local alcohol laws and regulations is an asset.
Physical Stamina: Endurance: The job can be physically demanding, requiring long hours on their feet. A bartender with good physical stamina is better equipped to handle the role’s demands.
Hygiene and Presentation:
Personal Hygiene: Bartenders hire should adhere to strict hygiene standards, including clean hands, tidy appearance, and proper uniform. Maintaining a clean and organized bar area is also crucial.
Professional Appearance: A well-groomed and professionally dressed bartender contributes to the overall image of the establishment. Look for candidates who understand the importance of a polished appearance.
Knowledge of Point-of-Sale Systems: Tech-Savvy Skills: Familiarity with point-of-sale (POS) systems is beneficial. Bartenders should be comfortable handling transactions, processing orders, and managing tabs efficiently.
Team Player: Collaboration Skills: Working well with other staff members, such as servers, kitchen staff, and management, is essential. A team player mentality contributes to a harmonious work environment.
Responsible Service: Responsible Alcohol Service: Bartenders hired must be vigilant about preventing overconsumption and ensuring responsible alcohol service. Knowledge of when and how to refuse service is crucial.
References and Background Check: Professional References: Contacting previous employers or checking professional references can provide insights into a candidate's work ethic, reliability, and overall performance.
Background Check: Conduct a background check to ensure the Bartenders for hire have a clean record, especially regarding any legal issues related to alcohol service.
By carefully considering these criteria, you can identify candidates who not only possess the necessary skills but also align with the values and requirements of your establishment, ultimately contributing to a successful and enjoyable bar experience for your customers.
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How to Excel as a Barback: Understanding the Roles and Duties
The Key Player: What Exactly is a Barback?
When we think of a bar's service, bartenders often come to mind first. Their role involves chatting with customers, taking orders via the point-of-sale system, and crafting drinks. However, equally crucial to a smooth bar operation is the barback. This guide unfolds the essence of a barback, their tasks, required skills, and tips on hiring the right one.
What Is a Barback?
A barback is akin to a busser in a bar setting. Their primary responsibility is to ensure that the bartender has everything essential during service to maintain seamless operations: clean glasses, ample garnishes, stocked liquor, beer and spirits, ice cubes, and more. Barbacks, much like bussers, keep the service area clean, addressing spills and broken glass, and restocking from the walk-in.
For many, working as a barback is the initial step toward a bartender career. Their goal is clear: make the bartender's life easier, ensure smooth service, and enhance the overall guest experience. Barbacks are the catch-all problem solvers, whether addressing visible customer needs or resolving behind-the-scenes issues.
Responsibilities and Duties of a Barback: A Comprehensive Overview
Barback responsibilities vary before, during, and after shifts and can differ among establishments. Tasks are often prioritized daily based on urgency and specific zones of the restaurant. Here's a detailed breakdown:
Before Service Barback Tasks:
Arrive on time and clock in.
Put on the barback uniform.
Prepare clean rags for service.
Check and restock liquor bottles, mixers, and bar essentials.
Juice citrus, label, and date squeeze bottles.
Fill containers with garnishes.
Fill ice bins.
Replace beer kegs.
Restock counter items and clean surfaces.
Polish wine glasses.
Manage bar inventory.
During Barback Service Tasks:
Refill liquor and wine bottles.
Replace coasters and wipe down counters.
Manage dirty glasses and dishes.
Clean and polish wine glasses.
Fill water glasses for customers.
Run drinks to tables.
Clean used glasses.
Address spills and broken glass.
Assist bartenders as needed.
Inform security of issues.
Assist with POS system.
Pour drinks during peak hours.
Engage with customers.
Take out the trash.
After-Service Barback Tasks:
Wipe down counters.
Take out the trash.
Clean furnishings.
Polish glasses and dishes.
Set up and tear down the bar.
Restock for the next shift.
Unclog sinks.
Mop behind the bar.
Clean non-slip mats.
Organize alcohol deliveries.
Monitor liquor inventory.
Collect and handle dirty rags.
Coordinate with team members for closing tasks.
Hiring a Barback: The Key Steps
Given the odd hours of bar operations, barback positions are suitable for individuals with other daytime commitments or those aspiring for a bartending career. Hiring a diligent barback can alleviate pressure on bartenders, leading to better income and customer retention. Consider the following steps in the hiring process:
Type of Barback:
Determine whether you need a full-time, freelance, part-time, or contract barback.
Method of Recruitment:
Experiment with various hiring techniques, from online postings to industry contacts.
Job Description:
Craft a detailed job description outlining tasks, responsibilities, and required skills.
Interviewing Candidates:
Conduct interviews to understand candidates' skills, accomplishments, and objectives.
Training A Barback: Nurturing the Backbone of the Bar
Even experienced barbacks benefit from a thorough training program. This is an opportunity to introduce them to the business and the bartending team. Key steps in training include:
List essential products to keep on hand.
Introduce the barback to the team.
Educate on regular cleaning tasks.
Provide health and safety training.
Encourage questions and inquiries.
Familiarize with the beverage menu.
Assign a mentor for ongoing guidance.
A formal training program ensures that barbacks feel valued, crucial in a role often characterized by behind-the-scenes, thankless work. The job is fast-paced, physically demanding, and requires multitasking.
Conclusion: The Crucial Role of Barbacks
Working as a barback is often a stepping stone for aspiring bartenders. It offers valuable training, allowing individuals to grasp the fundamentals and intricacies of bar functions. Barbacks, the silent contributors to a bar's success, play a pivotal role in maintaining the bar's rhythm and ensuring a positive customer experience. Cheers to the unsung heroes of the bar—barbacks!
Get in touch with Restaurantify for more insightful blogs.
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