Bistro Huddy - Tumblr Posts
Some bistro huddy fan art I’ve doodled recently 😩☝️
I’ll go back to op soon I promise 😭🙏
More bistro huddy doodles 🙏🙏 don’t nt question the drastic art style changes art block has me on a mean choke hold 😔😭
I have a confession…I love bistro huddy like I’m so invested 😭
Save me Nicole from Bistro Huddy…save me
bistro huddy (an internet series where all the characters are played by one man) has more fanfics on ao3 than raid shadow legends (a game that has been advertised everywhere and anywhere)
Work Crush Part 1- Bistro Huddy Fan Animation
Here is a small clip of the animation I made from the Bistro Huddy series. You can view the FULL VERSION on my tik tok
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGe5JCbqL/
Looking forward to making more of the series since this was so much to make. Huge fan of all of the characters.
I FUCKING LOVE BISTRO HUDDY AND I LOVE THIS????? OMFG OMFG OMFG
‘𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤’ 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 | 🩷
Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
Summary: A day in the life of a restaurant waiter with crappy customers. But there's always someone who makes you smile. (with their sweet treats and charms.)
Trigger Warnings ⚠️: misogynistic comments (not by Miguel but by someone else), fluffy ass shit, two idiots in love, mutual pinning.
Word Count: +2.4k
Author’s Note: yes. (there might be a spin-off part of this as I wanted to add more, but I don't have the time right now. miles and gwen are college students in this one-shot btw.)
Part Two → ‘sweetest’ treatment
Dedicated to my little tortellinis (my moots). I love you guys; you are the best 💌
“I think I have a crush on someone, and I don't know if it's because he's hot or because I work with him.” The strawberry blonde with pink tips in her hair looked away from her phone screen and back to you, pausing her texting motions. “What? Who tell me?” She prays, soon leaning against the host stand. “Tell me right now, please!” She begs.
“Oh god, it's not Gabriel, is it? It's Gabriel, right?” She gasped, soon leaning over to you. “No, it's not Gabriel.”
Shouting from the kitchen in the restaurant carried its way over to the front of the host stand, causing you and Gwen, the strawberry blonde, to look at the commotion.
“Ay coño, Parker! I said to put the sauce on the SIDE!” You looked towards the individual’s yells from the kitchen and felt your cheeks dust an unwanted blush.
“No… Miguel?” Gwen gasped, nearly laughing. “Stop it! It's not funny. It's so embarrassing.” You mumbled before you adjusted yourself against the host stand.
“Look, I get it if it was a line cook. They always compliment waitresses. But Miguel?” Gwen snickered. “Now that's a different type of breed.” You glared at the blonde once again and covered your face with a nearby menu pamphlet after doing so.
“You cannot tell anyone. No one must ever know. And don't even think about telling Miles.” You demanded before a couple of customers came into the restaurant.
/
“We have a strawberry tart ready for table two!” An older male shouted, soon sliding the plate over to the executive chef. “Perfect! This reservation is the last stretch tonight.” Miguel announced in the kitchen. The short-lived celebration ended for Miguel when you stormed into the kitchen, soaked in tomato soup, and entered the freezer, closing the heavy door behind you. Gwen trailed behind, entering the kitchen a few seconds after you ‘locked’ yourself in the freezer.
“Woah, what happened?” Peter asked, soon picking up on the situation. Gwen looked over to the older man and leaned against the kitchen counter. “It's these customers. They blew up on her after the husband didn't like how you cooked the ribeye steak and how the wife wanted bacon in her grilled cheese sandwich, but the husband didn't want her to have bacon.”
Miguel sighed and rubbed his hand against his face. “And did they ask for a refund?” Miguel questioned Gwen, having to look down at her due to their height difference. “No, he wanted another ribeye steak and to keep the original order as well…” Gwen stopped as soon as she saw the angered man before her.
“A freeloader is what he is. And yelling at my staff?! Oh, hell no!” Peter rushed to the peeved-off executive chef and stopped him from passing through those kitchen doors. “No, no, no! We can't have you go out there!”
“Why not?”
“Because we don't need you almost to throw a chair at the next asshole! This restaurant isn't a Waffle House!” Peter argued before he left his place in the kitchen and made his way to the freezer. “As the Sous chef, don't do anything too reckless while I'm in the freezer…” Miguel only covered his mouth with his hand in frustration and sighed. “Alright, fine…”
Peter gave Miguel a curt nod before stepping into the chilly freezer, seeing the heaps of crates filled with fresh produce and veggies. While roaming the tight space, he found you crouched beside the onions and potatoes. “There you are, kid…”
“Come on out there…” You looked up from where you crouched in the freezer, feeling tears rolling down your cheeks. “Peter…” You sniffled as you looked at the older man.
“Hey, would you like to tell me what happened from your perspective?” His voice toned down into a mellow tone, which you rarely hear when he was the sous chef during rush hour. The man squats down in front of you, awaiting any response, even if it is a nod.
You reluctantly nodded before you took a deep breath. “This happened. So I helped an older couple…”
/
“Hello! I'll be your server tonight. Is there something I can get you to drink while you look at the menu—” You instantly got interrupted by the male customer who rudely coughed in your direction before he cleared his throat out loud and looked at you with annoyance? “Yeah, yeah, I'll take a coke, and my wife will have a water.”
“But I wanted a Dr. Pepper…”
“No, sweetie, you need water.” The man interfered, soon hissing in anger. You deeply took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, a water and a coke.” You handed the menus to them only for the man to snatch them away from you, causing a small yelp to escape from you, and felt a small cut against your finger.
“You better do a good job here. The last time I went here, you guys didn't do a good job with my steak.” You nodded in concern. “Oh, I'm sorry about that; well, I can assure you that our Michelin/Executive chef will satisfy your guy’s taste buds.” The man only rolled his eyes and sighed. “That's what the bartender told us last time, and it was shitty.” Taking a deep breath, you nodded and allowed them to open the menus. “I'll give you two a few minutes to look at those menus.”
/
“Hey!” The man whistled at you like a dog, soon beckoning you. The pen you had in the grasp at your hand was strong enough to break the plastic around the pen to break. Swallowing the little amount of pride you had left, you made your way back.
“Are you stupid?” The man exclaimed, almost loud enough for some remaining patrons to hear. “Excuse me?” You stammered.
“My wife said she didn't want bacon in her grilled cheese sandwich for her order!” The man huffed, allowing his voice to carry around the space. “It's okay, sweetie, I don't mind the bacon in my grilled cheese; it makes my tomato soup taste better—” The wife tells him in a soft, mellow tone, only to get the tomato soup taken away from her and to get the hot contents of the soup splashed onto you. The warm, thick soup landed all over your button-up and on your black dress pants, and some dripped down on the carpeted floor. “I'm sorry, sir, I only went by with what your wife wants and—”
“Are you stupid? You are incompetent! You are a silly young woman who can't even take a food order! All of you women can't remember shit! You gave my wife the wrong grilled cheese sandwich, and you gave me a ribeye steak with the wrong sauce! All of you women are the same, nothing but blubbering idiots! How hard is it to remember food orders?!”
You glanced over to the wife, who covered her face with her hands, embarrassed of what her husband yelled at you, a young woman in her mid-twenties. “I'll be back with your correct orders then.” You reach to grab the plates but only get a glare from the older man. “No, I'm keeping the ribeye steak. I want another one rare and not medium rare. Now get to it!”
/
“And then he mocked me for having soup dumped on me, knowing damn well that he was the one who did this…” You sniffled to Peter, who was digging around his pocket, and grabbed a handkerchief, wiping up the tiny botches of soup stains and tears off your cheeks while shushing you. “Hey, hey, hey. It's okay.” You only started to sob out loud, hearing the words of comfort from the sous chef. “No, no, it's okay…” Peter shushed you again, wiping your tears away.
It took time for you to step out of the freezer by getting a lot of persuasion from Peter and Gwen. After getting convinced of a free soup from Peter, you stepped out with lingering tears and quivering lips. Miguel saw the look of terror in your eyes while you sniffled. The way you looked helpless and scared was enough to snap the man.
“Parker, Stacy, I‘ll take it from here.” Miguel intervened, soon making his way over to you. You looked up at him, imagining that your makeup was most likely staining your cheeks while you reeked of tomato soup. The sous chef looked on with concern while Gwen returned to running tables. “Peter, it's fine. I'll take it from here. Take care of the orders for a bit.” The older man nodded and ran off to take care of the following order for the evening.
You find yourself in panic, heart racing, and breathing quickening. Suddenly, a calming voice interrupts your racing thoughts. "Shhh, it's okay. You're not out there. You're here with me. Take deep breaths." You look up to see a reassuring face and feel his calloused hands gently take yours.
You take a shaky inhale and feel your chest fill up with air before a small sob escapes from you. "Hey, hey, look at me," Miguel says, his voice soothing. "Breathe through your nose, and exhale through your lips, nice and easy." You follow his instructions and feel your body relax as the panic slowly subsides.
You felt your hands lightly squeeze his, trying your best to calm down. “There we go; I bet that feels better, huh?” You nod and get ready to explain the situation but only get stopped when Miguel grabs a freshly prepared strawberry tart from nearby and gives it to you. “This is what we're going to do. You will eat this and sit in the break room with Miles. Lyla will get some clean clothes, and Peter and I will deal with your table, okay?”
“But—”
“No buts. Go on, go to the break room. Peter will tell me what happened.”
/
While eating the sweet dessert, you heard a commotion, a commotion in the dining area of the restaurant, with Peter pleading with Miguel not to throw a punch at the misogynistic man. You continued to eat the sweet dessert while Miles was in the break room with you, eating his lunch. “I heard about what happened… and I'm so sorry for you.”
“Miles, let’s not talk about that man now.”
“Come on, it's obvious you like the guy, and he likes you, too. Look what he's doing for you.”
“That old man can suck a dick—” You paused and realized what Miles was talking about. It wasn't about the crabby customer, but rather, the executive chef who was about to roundhouse the old fuck on the face after throwing hot tomato soup on you.
Gwen told him... fuck.
"Gwen... god dammit!" You sighed, finally finishing the sweet dessert Miguel gave to you. "She told you?! When?"
"When you were taking an order from that couple, she told me..." You let out a huff of annoyance before you slumped in your seat, giving up on your little secrets. "...But honestly, do you think this is a stupid little crush?" You asked the young busboy. "Well," Miles trailed off, humming to himself while thinking until he stopped and looked at you. "When you think about Chef Miguel, I mean, Miguel, what comes to mind?"
I can't believe I'm getting advice from a young college student…
"I mean.." You felt a burning sensation dust on your cheeks before something came out. "He makes me feel safe."
"Woah..." Miles remarked, soon taking a bite out of his sandwich. "That's surprising. Usually, anyone is scared of Miguel. But he makes you feel safe; why do you suppose that is?"
"I don't know?!" You huffed. "Recently, he's been giving me free meals after an error on the order, like two days ago. He accidentally made a ribeye steak with extra sauce. Usually, he would keep it for himself to eat for his break. But recently, he's been giving me "messed up" food orders." Miles nodded and gestured for you to continue. "And he's been making trips to the hostess stand recently to check how many covers we have left."
"And you didn't come to think that maybe he likes you?" Miles sighed. All the signs were there. The acts of service by giving you free food? The quality time he's trying to squeeze in time with you whenever he comes by the hostess counter to "check the covers" they have left? The man was a green flag, perhaps a healthy green forest with no red, wild berry in sight.
"Nah, he probably doesn't like me." You shrugged before you adjusted your soup-covered button-up and saw Lyla enter the break room with a spare shirt.
"Likes you? Who?" She demands.
"Lyla, not now." You sighed. "Come on, tell me." She gives you her usual shit-eating grin, the same grin on her face whenever she hears gossip. "Lyla, not now, please." The short bartender nods before she leaves the clean shirt on the table. "You better text me about this later." She demands and runs out of the break room.
Silence returns to the break room, and you look at Miles. "I don't know, it seems like he's into you." Miles shrugged.
"But he isn't-"
You stopped as soon as the commotion from the dining area stopped, following a loud door slam. You glanced over and soon stepped out of the break room and into the now-empty dining area. The couple had already left, with Miguel placing his hands on the table and sighing. You inched closer to him and stopped only a few feet away.
"They're gone."
"I mean, it's pretty obvious." You peeped at him, staying in place where you stood. The quiet space in the dining area was so palpable that anyone could hear a pin drop if they chose to do so. "Hey, about that customer, thanks for dealing with him." Miguel only nodded in acknowledgment before he grabbed your little server book and turned to face you.
"They just wanted to let you know that they're very sorry for the inconvenience that they caused. The wife apologized by leaving this behind." He turned to face you and handed the black server book over to you.
You opened the server book, and the recipe fell out, along with three crisp fifty-dollar bills.
"Holy shit... This is the biggest tip I've seen in a while!" You exclaimed, nearly laughing in joy. "This is enough for my electricity bill!" You beamed before you clutched onto the server book and ran off into the break room.
While running off to Gwen and Miles about the generous tip you received from the wife, Miguel adjusted the wallet in his pocket. He would tip any amount to you to see you smile like that again...
Do u think drew talbert knows we all ship amber and poppy or is this all just a big coincidence. This feels like that sherlock conspiracy shit
bistro huddy has become my life.
A few doodles