#//Did I spend half an hour just on the picture for this meme?

[dxfiedfxte]

☎️

Phone Contact Info Meme || Accepting

@hxpelessnurse

What My Muse Has For Your Muse's Contact Info: Contact name: Mikki ❤️

What Their Ringtone Is: Nurse - By Bush The Last Text They Sent Your Muse: txt to Miki ❤️: I had a lot of fun tonight. Let me know if Saturday still looks good for our next date, I made reservations, but if anything comes up, I can always rebook it. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow when I come to see you on your lunch break. Sweet dreams Mikan~ || Sent at 11:47 pm || What Image My Muse Has For Your Muse In Their Phone:

[champion-of-love]

eah texting hcs

the charming siblings have a groupchat ofc and dexter is the admin

their gc photo is a blurry picture of their dad midsneeze and they got it from a stock photo website. their dad has tried to sue the photographer's company but lost the suit and it's the trios' favorite photo.

the gc is mostly them sending memes to each other, accusing each other of taking their stuff, or passing messages from their parents to the intended sibling (the charming castle being so massive and all)

their gc names were just their names at first til one day dex got so pissed at daring that he changes his brother's nickname to 'demanding' charming

darling laughed so hard she saw stars and made her twin promise to never change it back

darling's nickname is 'dueling' charming

dexter's nickname is 'dismaying' charming

(he picked it out himself, and daring and darling shared a concerned looked at the other when he did.)

the wonderlandians also have a groupchat. lizzie, maddie and kitty and eventually alistair and bunny

to match all their names, alistair happily changed his nickname to 'allie' and lizzie gave the loudest snort at it

their entire chat is in riddlish and other wonderlandian dialects and theyre happy they get to practice their native tongues even if they're away from home

maddie's messages are sometimes so nonsensical (so wonderlandian) that the kookiness can sometimes short out their mirrorphones

cue to kitty dropping by lizzie and bunny's rooms warning them to not open the groupchat for a while so they don't short out their phones

kitty never warns alistair though, because she thinks it's funny.

alistair just opens that chat with no suspicion and gets flash-banged by maddie's texts and has to spend the rest of the day with no phone, a little hearing loss and dark spots in his vision.

the pink squad also have a groupchat. cupid, briar and hopper, my beloveds.

briar is the admin and the groupchat moves at the speed of light

cupid and briar text rapidfire and send gossip, memes, selfies, screenshots and etc and react as fast to each others' messages as well

hopper wakes up to a massive backread that he has to spend half an hour in the morning catching up or he won't understand what they'll be talking about in lunch

they use that chat to plan events they want to go to and to send photos that they took during the event itself

their gc pic is a group photo of all of them posing pretty cool in front of a mirror during true hearts day (their first party)

they manage to get humphrey to encode some special features into their chat so that:

(a) briar's phone can send a message if she falls asleep alone somewhere to broadcast her location so any one of them can go to her

(b) hopper's phone can also send his location if he becomes a frog and there's no one to turn him back

(c) cupid's phone also sends her location. not because she physically needs help, but because she gets lonely (being further away from home than all of them).

briar and hopper always take this seriously and arrive with hot chocolate, cupcakes and hugs.

anyways this series has been dead for years now but thinking about these kids always gives me the feels and i had to talk about them

[shorlinesorrows]

my jean & neil qpr agenda (part 1?)

after Neil orders the hit and Greyson becomes another Former Raven statistic for the media to go wild with, Jean ends up texting Neil. It's definitely not a thank you, but both of them know it kinda is (prob something like "you're an insufferable disease" lol)

They don't have contact for a while, but one day Neil reaches out by sending Jean the most atrocious multilingual French meme with "Kevin doesn't appreciate me or my humor, this is a hate crime"

It's sporadic from there, and maybe at one point they meet up while Neil and Andrew are on their summer road trip. Neil and Andrew end up in Colorado, and Jeremy, Cat, and Laila practically drag Jean there to see them (he'll deny that he had a good time, but he really did)

Andrew and Jean have a bizarre and interesting dynamic where they don't speak to each other often, but they eventually grow a mutual respect and shoot each other Looks about their "I'm Fine" partners. They don't mind just sitting in the same room and sharing space while they do their separate things.

When Jean and Jeremy start their pottery class, Jean takes to it like a fish to water.

He ends up majoring in Ceramics & Multimedia Art. Something about using his hands to create, rather than destroy.

He makes Neil a little exy racket charm for his keychain.

At one point, Jeremy makes a gc with Jean, Neil, Kevin, and Andrew on impulse. Jean "hates" it but doesn't leave the group chat. Andrew only stays in it because he can mute it, and it's useful for when they plan to meet up sometimes. It also makes Neil happy and it's not something he really minds

Jean also takes LOTS of pictures. With his phone, his friends' phones, a polaroid camera he gets as a gift from Cat, anything he can get his hands on. He hangs them up on his half of the room with Jeremy.

Eventually Jeremy and Jean do get separate rooms. They usually still sleep in the same room, but it's an important milestone for Jean and his recovery. Being able to have his own space, and know he's allowed to control who comes in it.

He decorates that room so much it's chaotic and beautiful and there's probably little pencil doodles on the wall next to his bed from when he can't sleep. He tends to draw daffodils :]

It becomes a bit of a tradition to meet Neil and Andrew every summer.

When they go pro, Jean and Neil end up on teams only a few hours' drive from each other. Neil and Andrew start on the same team, but the whole Minyard-Josten Rivalry is still a Thing because they're always shooting heated Russian at each other while "glaring" and no one else seems to realize it's their equivalent of flirting.

Jean thinks it's hilarious. He harasses Neil about it constantly.

Him and Kevin eventually mend their friendship, and they care about each other a lot.

Neil probably made the three of them matching "I survived Castle Evermore" shirts just to be a menace, and then Jean and Kevin have to make him swear that he'll never wear it in public.

Neil has a habit of just. Showing up at Jean's house and crashing sometimes.

Jeremy at one point jokes that he'll have to fight Neil for Jean's time in the future, but he's not really worried. They're happier when they spend time together. Jeremy and Andrew are chill with it.

When they meet up for the first time after a game between their pro teams, none of their teammates have any clue what's going on. Jean and Neil insult each other ferociously, but also can't seem to resist hip-checks and shoulder bumps and almost affectionate shoves.

Neil constantly sidles up to Jean and pretends like he doesn't know what he's doing. Jean usually responds by absently grabbing his hand so he knows where he is.

They are literally a cat and dog. Neil will deny that he's being caring or affectionate towards Jean all day long while actively attempting to be in Jean's space, and Jean practically perks up when Neil enters a room.

When their teams play against each other, they talk in French sometimes. Their checks are always a bit brutal (they know very well how far the other can be pushed before they break) but they help each other up at the end of quarters.

Jean is constantly antagonizing Neil by smiling and complimenting his striker skills while blocking him, and Neil is constantly taunting him with words that are plenty sharp, but never actually aimed for vital spots

Jean gets a service dog and Jeremy decides to name her Mr. Barkbark Flufferpants, following Andrew & Neil's naming scheme for their cats. They usually just call her "Mr."

When they make Court, the two of them practically live in each other's pockets.

Jeremy and Andrew watch both exasperatedly and amusedly (though Andrew just calls it annoyance when asked) as the two of them dance around their Big Queer Platonic Feelings

When they finally manage to actually communicate about it, it goes something like "Idk what's happening, I'm kinda obsessed with you but it is Not Romantic and I don't know what to do with that." And then "Oh thank hell, me too, I thought I was even weirder than I already am. Wanna go harrass the fbi together?" "No."

They become even more attached at the hip after that, can practically finish each other's sentences. It's like they freaking mind melded tbh.

At first Kevin gets worried that they're slipping into old habits from the Nest, especially Jean, but when he brings it up to Andrew and Jeremy, Andrew just goes "No, they're idiots." and Jeremy nods and says "I think they're in a honeymoon phase. If we see them slipping, we'll pull them out."

Kevin decides to wait and watch, and thankfully their relationship ends up being as healthy as Neil and Jean can be. There might be a little codependence going on, but they have other people and other grounding forces to help intervene if it seems to be unbalancing.

They both put each other on their emergency contacts list.

It's a common sight to find the two of them twisted into impossible positions together just doing their own things, Jean drawing, Neil watching reruns of Exy matches, whatever.

Their dynamic just becomes Jean, who genuinely grows up to be a pretty chill dude, and Neil, who's an absolute gremlin. Except they kinda absorb each other's personalities, so they're both little shits together. They fit.

There is definitely all sorts of weird conversations that they have at 2AM in little sleepovers they do together (sometimes with Kevin, Jeremy, or Andrew) because they never got that as kids.

I bet Neil mercilessly teases Jean for being allosexual, especially when he gets flustered (all in good fun, of course)

Jean just snarks back with a "shut up, I literally saw you look at Andrew like a besotted elderly man with his partner of fifty years like five minutes ago." Neil sticks out his tongue at him.

Jean actually can sometimes read the ways that Neil and Andrew show affection for each other because of how much time he spends around them, which leads to him occasionally getting confused when other people don't automatically Get It

Neil takes a while to warm up to Jeremy because he seems Too Nice, but once he does he helps Jeremy plan to absolutely torment Jean with silly little romantic gestures that make him flush all the way down to his neck

At one point Neil tries to get Jean to explain what it feels like to be sexually attracted to someone without knowing them really closely, and it leads to a really surprisingly deep conversation about attraction before it turns into neil making dick jokes.

Cat and Laila still keep in close contact with Jean, as well as Renee. They make sure to meet up as often as they can. Cat and Jean always go for a bike ride together and they all cook dinner as a group.

They're both cuddle monsters when in the right mood. They also have the convenient ability to fall asleep Anywhere when they feel safe. So finding them curled up together in weird places at home is pretty commonplace.

They're forever partners, not in the way that the world and the Nest tried to make them be, but in a way that they created themselves.

It doesn't have to be romantic to be special, and if anyone ever suggested that they should be in a romantic relationship, they would both look at that person with absolute judgement and disgust. This person interrupted their conversation. They were talking shit about someone. Neil is lounging in Jean's lap. Andrew is saying he hates them both, and Jeremy is cackling at it all while taking a low-res picture for Cat and Laila.

idk i have a Lot of thoughts and could keep going. (i might write a fic if anyone wants to read it, and I'll definitely write little snippets for myself if I get the time. )

[nolita-fairytale]

comfort & chaos (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) chapter two: covid & carbonara

summary: in a time of isolation, you and carmy find unexpected connection in unexpected places: each other. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language, mentions of covid-19/the pandemic, eventual smut.

word count: 4k

listen to: hot sugar - glass animals | hard to live in the city - albert hammond jr. | alone together - del water gap | foreign girls - bleachers

read: chapter one

March 2020: 

“Carmy, can you hear me now?” you ask, listening carefully for his response. 

“Yeah hold on. Wifi’s shit in this room,” he mumbles. You hear a rustle of sounds and the picture on your phone goes blurry for a second. This is just something you’ve come to accept is a part of your life now as you wait. 

Suddenly, the picture is clear again and it looks like Carmy’s in his living room now. He wears a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants as he tries to get comfy on the shitty sofa in his Flatiron apartment. 

“Ok there we go. I gotta-, yeah, I can hear you now,” he says, finally settling in. 

“How are you?” you ask as you grow more sure that you’re going to be able to talk now. “It’s good to see your face.”

“Yeah, no uh. It’s good to see you too,” he replies. “Shit’s so weird right now, huh?”

“Totally,” you agree. “So… what’ve you been up to? I mean… how are you spending your time?”

He sighs, shaking his head, as if to say that he barely knows how to answer that question. He thinks it over before answering with:

“I don’t know. Workin’ on some recipes. Tryin’ not to lose my fuckin’ head. You?”

“Same,” you commiserate. “Though… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been enjoying some of the down time, you know?”

He couldn’t agree less. 

Carmy tells you about the recipes he’s working on. You share with him the plot of the show you’re binge watching right now. He tells you he hasn’t really been in touch with family much and you let him know that you’ve been running errands for your parents where you can. It’s a fairly normal conversation for a very uncertain and strange time, but it brings you comfort – talking to Carmy. 

You talk about the state of the restaurant industry. The state of the world. The two of you wonder when the restaurant might open back up – if they’ll consider doing to-go’s. He’s not sure and neither are you.

It’s almost two hours later when you realize your phone is dying, and that somehow, time has flown as the two of you have been talking. 

“Shit, uh. My phone’s dying. I may have to go,” you say remorsefully. 

“Oh yeah! No problem,” Carmy replies, almost apologetically. “And I uh, if I get in touch with the people at World Central Kitchen, I’ll let you know. I’m sure they can always use more chefs and volunteers.”

“No, that’d be great. Uh… before I go,” you start, knowing that you want to tell him this. “I just wanted to say… I’m glad we did this.”

“Yeah me too,” he agrees, and you can tell he means it. 

“Maybe… we do it again? Keep each other company… you know. Virtually?” you propose, hopefully. 

“Yeah,” Carmy half smiles. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And as the pandemic drags on, you find yourself FaceTiming with Carmy more and more. Once a week turns into once a week and a consistent exchange of texts. He shares with you the recipes he’s working on. You bounce ideas around with him on dishes he feels stuck on. You send him silly memes and TikToks, even though he refuses to get an account himself. Once a week turns into twice a week, and then phone calls, and soon enough, you don’t go a day without talking to Carmy in some capacity. 

You’re not sure how you’ve done it but you think that maybe you and Carmy just might be friends. 

May 2020: 

“Thanks so much for all the help guys. It means a lot. Especially having two chefs of your caliber,” the volunteer coordinator says, addressing both you and Carmy. 

“Listen, we’re just happy to be a part of something right now. With so much going on… it’s hard to know where to begin helping,” you reply with gratitude. You’re genuinely thankful that you’ve been able to be a part of World Central Kitchen’s COVID relief efforts, and you know Carmy feels the same. 

“We’ll see you guys next Friday?” the volunteer coordinator asks. 

“Heard,” Carmy answers, thanking the coordinator one more time before the two of you leave the building. 

Around the corner, there’s a bench that the two of you find. It’s an easy choice to sit down – neither of you are quite ready to go home yet. You sit on opposite sides before removing your masks as Carmy pulls out a pack of marlboros. 

“You want one?” he asks you, holding out the pack.

“Yeah,” you agree, taking one from him at a distance. You watch him light up, before handing you the lighter he keeps in his jean jacket pocket.

It’s nice to take a moment to pause. Between the chaos of being in a kitchen again to the chaos of the world around you, it feels good to smoke a fucking cigarette on a street corner with the man that’s so unexpectedly become your friend. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the sounds of the city, each others’ company, and your fuckin’ cancer sticks. 

You break the silence between the two of you, letting out the smallest chuckle.

“What?” Carmy asks you, your laugh garnering his attention. 

“It’s just… it’s almost funny,” you say, continuing your giggle. 

“What?” he asks you again, a look of amusement on his face. He can’t imagine what must be so funny. 

“Just… seeing you here… Mr. Fine Dining…makin’ sandwiches,” you tease playfully. “Thought you were too fancy-pants for that.”

“Fuck off,” he rolls his eyes playfully, sucking on his cigarette as he inhales. You laugh again as he shakes his head, shooting you another look. 

He takes his time, exhaling the smoke out in the opposite direction, before addressing your playful remarks. 

“Nah. It uh-, actually reminds me of my family’s place a little. Back home,” he shares with you. 

It catches you off guard. Carmy rarely ever talks about home, let alone his family. 

“Yeah?” you ask curiously, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod, before placing the cigarette back in between his lips. 

To your disappointment, you realize that’s all he’s planning to share. You resign yourself, taking another drag of your cigarette as the two of you smoke to the sounds of the city. After a long shift at the volunteer kitchen, your exhaustion begins to catch up with you. It’s been a few months since you’ve had to stand for that long, and as exhilarating as it’s been, you can feel the fatigue in your back and your feet already. 

“So… I was thinkin’ about something,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

You angle your body towards him before asking, “What’s that?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s dumb.” 

He’s suddenly shy, and your eyes flicker over his cheeks that have turned a darker shade of red than they were before. 

“Carmy, what is it?” you ask, leaning towards him, now intrigued.

He avoids your gaze before he replies, “Nah. Nevermind. It’s stupid.” 

“No, it’s not! What is it?” you continue to press him.

You’re not going to let this go. 

“I shouldn't've said anything.” 

He sighs, taking one more drag of his cigarette before leaning forward and tossing it on the ground. His left foot hovers over the cigarette butt as he stamps it out, his forearms resting on his legs as he finally turns to you again. 

“I don’t know how you feel about it, and you can totally say no because like… shit’s still fucked, you know but-,” he starts, shyly. Was Carmy about to ask you out?

 He pauses, his eyes scanning the pavement beneath his feet before saying, “It’s just-, I’m not like, seeing anyone else in person. Except you.”

“Yeah, no me either,” you agree. 

Where was this going?

“Would you maybe wanna-?” he asks, before trailing off, his piercing blue eyes so intense it feels like he’s looking right through you. He nods towards the kitchen before continuing with, “... see each other in person. Like outside of here. As long as we’re being safe you know?” 

You nod, quick to put the poor man at ease, and only a little intrigued as to why it was so difficult for him to ask you that. 

“Yeah no. I’m not seeing anyone else in person either. And at this point if we had COVID, we’d probably already have exposed each other, right?” you reply. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

“Yeah, I’d be down. To… you know. Maybe move some of our FaceTimes… in person, if that’s what you mean,” you agree, a smile on your face. 

You’re not sure what you expected, but you weren’t expecting for Carmy to ask you to become his quarantine buddy – even if you’d already kind of been doing it anyways. 

“Cool,” he says, taking a breath. 

You can tell that it was a big deal for him – to ask you that – even if he doesn’t want to show it. 

“Can I walk you home?” he asks. 

You smile in return, “Yeah. And if you’re feeling wild… we can… pick something up on the way there. You can come up and hang.”

“No, yeah. That uh-, that sounds great,” he replies, something softer in his eyes this time. “If you don’t mind. I mean-, if you want the company-.”

“Oh shut up, Berzatto,” you roll your eyes at him. You shoot him a look, even though you’re kind of loving this softer side of him. 

“I wouldn’t have offered, if I didn’t.”

July 2020: 

Carmen Berzatto becomes an unexpected yet pleasantly surprising part of your support system, and your COVID-pod. It’s hard to believe that less than a year ago, you thought the man absolutely hated you. He’s still the hot and cold, emotionally turbulent man you met last October, and he’s also become your friend. You’ve learned that he can be soft, that he’s terribly uncomfortable in any and all social situations, and that he’s the most single-minded, driven, obsessed motherfucker you’ve ever met. 

By now, the restaurant has pivoted and reopened for to-gos only. It’s nothing like the fine dining establishment it was before. You’re only open Thursday to Sunday and it’s a much more family style, to-go kit sort of operation these days: to-go cocktail kits, to-go curated menus, to-go assemble your own dishes at home. 

It’s strange. And it’s a strange time for all of you. 

You’re finished with your shift today, ready to head home and spend the next three days off. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get three days off in a row once all of this is over, so you’ve decided that you’re just going to embrace the slower lifestyle right now. You’ve been more creative in this chapter of your life than you can remember. 

“So you layin’ it down for Carmy or what?” a voice asks, jolting you from your thoughts. 

“Excuse me?” you snap, turning your head to a very smug looking Nate Walker, stripping off his face mask.

“What the fuck, man?” Tim exclaims, as he’s changing back into his street shoes. “Not okay to say.”

“What?” Nate defends himself. “I’m just wondering who I have to thank. This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen the boss man.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “Really nice, Nate.” 

You shake your head, before slinging your backpack over your right arm, exchanging a look with Tim. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Carmy and I are just friends,” you correct. “Ever think that some time off has been good for all of us and that’s why Carmy’s been chill?”

“‘S not like we’re working at the same capacity we used to be. I think it’s been good for him,” Tim chimes in, trying to offer you a little backup.

“Sure,” Nate replies, unconvinced. 

“What’s it to you anyways, Walker?” Tim asks, putting the spotlight on his coworker. 

“Nothin’,” Nate replies, defensively. “Just noticed you guys spendin’ a lot of time together lately. Besides, the guy could use a good lay.”

“You’re a child,” you snap with an eye roll. You slide your left arm into the other strap of your backpack, ready to leave. “Now if we’re done with the girl talk, I’m going home.”

As you begin to walk away, you can hear Nate defending himself as Tim points out how inappropriate it was for him to say that to you. You’re grateful for people like Tim, because you’re not sure that Nate would listen to anyone else lower in the French brigade system – let alone a woman. 

“We still on for tomorrow?” Carmy asks you, as you're on your way out. He’s still in his chef whites because, as the both of you know, he’s going to be the last person to leave. A smile spreads across your face as soon as you see him. 

That’s right. You’re spending your day off tomorrow with him. 

“Yeah,” you smile with a nod. 

“Mine or yours?” he asks. 

You shoot him a look – a ‘I know you haven’t cleaned up your place’ kind of look. 

“Mine,” you reply. 

“Sweet. There’s a cool market nearby I wanted to check out. I’ll pick somethin’ up on the way,” he says back. 

“Heard.”

You wait a beat before adding, “Try not to work too hard, chef.”

He likes that you’re looking out for him. 

He smiles, “Heard.”

*

As much as you’ve tried not to let Nate Walker get to you, you can’t stop thinking about what he said the day before. Did people think you and Carmy were sleeping together? Did the whole staff think you were trying to sleep your way to the top? Your mind races, and you notice the anxious feelings you have have settled deep in your chest. Carmy moves around your kitchen, intentionally, and while you’d like to enjoy how happy he looks when he cooks for fun, you can’t seem to shut off your brain. 

“You sure I can’t help? I went to culinary school too, yknow?” you ask, trying to put on your best lighthearted tone. 

“Nah,” he dismisses, pulling together a sauce in one of the glass bowls you keep in your kitchen for prep. 

As Carmy steals a glance your way, he’s surprised to find that whatever weight it seems you were carrying when he first walked in, hasn’t gone away. He returns his focus to the stovetop, shaking the stainless clad frying pan that holds his precisely-cut lardons. 

“What’s up?” he asks you, keeping his back to you. 

“Uh… nothing,” you reply, trying your best to shake it off. 

He knows you’re lying, and he turns to look at you again, more intently this time. Your lips are pressed together in a thin line and there’s a new tension knitted between your brows that’s not normally there. As much as you’re trying not to let it get to you, your face betrays you and he knows that something’s been bothering you all day. He shoots you an unconvinced look and you sigh in defeat. 

Since when had Carmy learned what that look meant. 

“Just-, you’re gonna think it’s dumb,” you start, almost embarrassed that you have to bring this up to him. 

“What’s up?” he asks, patiently. 

You shrug, “Just something that Nate said yesterday’s been… bothering me, I guess.”

He rolls his eyes, letting out a dry laugh as he asks you, “Well Nate’s a dick. What’d he say?”

“I-, I don’t know if I should tell you,” you admit hesitantly. 

“Why?” he asks, a pang of nerves hitting him right in the gut. 

You wait a beat, trying to figure out how best to convey what Nate said without freaking Carmy out. 

“He uh… he kind of… suggested that everyone thinks we’re sleeping together?” you say cautiously, your voice going up at the end of the sentence, almost as if it were a question. 

“Oh,” is all Carmy manages to get out. 

“Yeah,” you exhale. 

“Well, we’re not,” Carmy replies, simply. 

Right. 

“Right,” you agree. 

You’re surprised by the feeling of disappointment that wells in your chest in response to Carmy’s reply. This had been eating away at you and for him to shut it down so quickly – like it was that simple – doesn’t quite make sense to you. 

Maybe it’s because men never bear the burden of an inappropriate workplace relationship, not that you’re having one with Carmy, but you know it’d be a bigger cost to you than it’d ever be for him.

“I just…” you start, beginning to understand why it’s bothering you so much. “Do you think… like is it a problem that we’re hanging out? I mean, you are kind of my boss and… I don’t know. I guess we never really talked about the ethical implications of… you know. Us. Being friends. And also working together.”

Friends. 

Right. 

Maybe because it’s because he’s never really had friends, let alone a girlfriend, that catches Carmy off guard.

You’re just friends, motherfucker, Carmy thinks to himself. 

It’s like he’d almost forgotten. 

Perhaps it’s the isolation – the way of the world right now – but he’s never thought about what you were to him. Ever since the two of you had decided to start spending time together, it had been you and him against a very scary and uncertain world. Carmy’s surprised to find that, hearing it said aloud, friends, leaves him with a feeling of dissatisfaction – like the word friend didn’t quite describe the way he felt about you. 

But he’s terrified to think about what that could mean. That anything else would probably scare you away – push you out of his life – and there’s no way in hell he’s going to let that happen right now. 

Because he likes this too much. 

Because he likes who he is when he’s with you. 

Because you’re all he has. 

He pushes the thoughts out of his mind for another time, because right now, you’re sitting right in front of him, and he’s got a problem to solve for you. 

“As long as we’re professional in the kitchen… I don’t see why it should be a problem,” he says. 

You’re not sure how it seems so simple for him, because it doesn’t feel this simple for you. 

“Yeah, no. I-, I agree,” you lie. 

Carmy returns to what he’s doing, and you accept that that’s probably the full conversation that you’re going to have with him. At least right now. You watch as he continues to cook, pulling together the sauce as he tosses the pasta and cheese in your frying pan. You open up your phone, scrolling through a few social media posts to try your best to get your mind off of your worries as Carmy finishes up in your kitchen. 

It’s not long before he’s returned to your small dining table. You set your phone down, watching as he approaches you. 

“I remember you mentioning that it’s hard to find a good carbonara so uh… thought I’d make you one,” he says confidently. Carmy hands you bowl containing a perfectly twirled nest of spaghetti, along with a fork he’d gotten from your kitchen. 

“How do I know it’s gonna be up to my standards?” you challenge him playfully. 

He shoots you a ‘don’t play with me’ kind of look and you giggle in response. You exchange glances with Carmy before messing up the perfectly plated nest by digging your fork into it. 

“Make sure you get a little bit of everything,” he reminds you. He watches as you twirl the spaghetti around your fork, making sure to scoop up a bit of crispy guanciale. You lift the fork to your mouth before taking a bite, your eyes closing as the salty, cheesy, bite hits your tongue. 

It’s perfect.  

“Holy fuck,” you practically moan in response to your first bite. You open your eyes and he smiles back at you, proud of the response he’s earned from you. Your face twists into a look that falls somewhere between ‘this is so good I’m angry and hello, I’ve reached nirvana.’ 

“This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude,” you say, as you continuing processing the most perfect carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. 

“No offense taken,” he says. 

You shake your head at him, “Best carbonara ever.”

September 2020: 

“So we go upstate, and we’re searching for outdoor activities we can do, you know, safely, at a distance, with masks on. And we end up at this goat farm,” Maya says, describing her and her fiance’s last few months spent in upstate New York. 

“...Was the goat named Milo?” Carmy asks, a humorous tone to his question. 

“Carmy!” you exclaim with a laugh, shooting him a look. 

“What?” he asks back. 

Both Liz, Maya, and her fiance Patrick send you questioning looks. 

“I-, it’s an inside joke,” you explain, shaking your head once again in response to Carmy’s very silly interjection. 

“Anyways, it’s so nice to be back in the city. Seriously, Liz, thanks for organizing this,” Maya continues. 

“Oh, I’m kind of getting really into this whole cute picnic thing actually,” she replies, in reference to the picnic she’s organized for the five of you. “Plus, the to-go picnic kit has been killing at the restaurant. Thanks for letting me run with that, chef.”

“No, yeah. You’re killin’ it. It was a great idea,” Carmy compliments. 

The five of you spend time in the park, catching up and enjoying time spent in person for the first time in a long time. You, Liz, and Carmy have been back at work, pushing through, what will hopefully be, the last month or so in the to-go only business at the restaurant. As the sun begins to come down, you all agree that it’s time to pack it up and go home. You’ve begun to collect all of the trash in a brown paper bag as Carmy offers to take it. 

“You sure?” you ask him. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

As he takes a walk, in search of the nearest trash can, your friends are immediately on you about whatever the hell it is that you and Carmy are doing. 

“So what I’m hearing is… you talk every day, you have inside jokes together, and you’re basically quarantining together. How are you trying to tell us that this man is not your boyfriend?!” Maya exclaims. Her partner shrugs in agreement. 

“I know that what Nate said was hella inappropriate, but he’s not wrong… that this is the most I’ve seen him relaxed in… maybe since we met him,” Liz adds in as your friends make their case. 

“He seems into you,” Patrick offers. 

“I-,” you start, knowing you don’t have much time before Carmy returns. “I don’t know. All I know is… I like what we have. And right now, we’re friends so.”

“God, you’re so good at it,” Maya sighs. 

“What?” you ask, looking from her to Liz as they exchange glances. 

The both turn to you, before saying in unison, “Compartmentalizing!” 

Patrick holds his hands up as he says, “I’m gonna stay out of this one.”

“You ready to go?” Carmy asks, rejoining you and your friends. 

You can practically feel Liz and Maya staring at you. 

“Yeah,” you reply to Carmy. 

You say your goodbyes before going your separate ways, and Maya swears when Carmy isn’t listening that you’re not done talking about this. It’s just been you and Carmy for so long that you hadn’t thought about what it might look like to other people. Now that things were slowly reopening… you were beginning to get more questions, and maybe, you were beginning to have more questions too. 

But the last time you’d tried to bring up any conversation about your relationship with Carmy, he’d shut it down and distracted you with the best carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. Not that you were complaining, definitely not, but you were hesitant to bring it up any time soon.  As Carmy looks at you, there’s something about the way you look against the backdrop of the city, the setting sun, and the sparkling lights, that catches him off guard. He’s not ready to part ways with you yet.

“Can I walk you home?” Carmy offers, hopefully. 

“Sure,” you nod.

read chapter three

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

[rockyteriyaki]

TEAM BUILDING ACTIVITIES 👯

s/o to @powerful-owl for starting this meme and @disarmd for the insanely funny contribution, it’s such a delightful thought exercise! here’s my attempt:

MASCOTS!

american sports have hella mascots, so every team is tasked to create a marketable mascot that could represent them for u.s fans. they also have to build a little model to pitch the concept. there’s the williams whale sharks. the aston martin martinis. lando and oscar devise a walking papaya named penny who looks so much like a vulva oscar backs out almost instantly.

GUESS THE GRID based on clothing choices: drivers assemble an outfit they’d wear and then everyone else tries to guess who picked what. the catch is that the f1a girls did the same challenge and their answers are mixed in as well. everybody thinks doriane’s mercedes-themed picks are george’s and maya gets confused for charles even though there’s no ferrari branding to be seen. chloe’s picked a haas cap with a black skirt and we watch nico hulkenberg go through every emotion known to man trying to figure out why kevin would—???

(meanwhile the academy grid is absolutely ripping everybody’s style choices to shreds, accusing hamda of being the most basic bitch on the planet bc max chose to wear basketball shorts, etc)

PADDOCK SCAVENGER HUNT

5 teams are in on it and the other 5 can’t know what’s going on, otherwise they lose points. charles pretends that he’s too tired to walk when pierre catches him searching the top of a cabinet on carlos’ shoulders. oscar distracts williams while lando tries to get a picture of logan with red, white and blue objects in the background. yuki gets stranded on top of the rbr motorhome because daniel won’t stop using him for reconnaissance and the whole thing gets called off because max sees them squabbling on the roof and thinks the rapture has arrived.

GEORGE AND ALEX MAKE GRAPHICS

ib george’s natural talent for graphic design. the audience gets to see what a communications team actually does in motorsport (educational!) and george and alex get free reign of the entire library of press photos of eachother. george is hunting for a terrible picture of alex to edit onto a podium but ends up having a very verbal crisis about how none of the pap shots are appropriately bad and then spends the next half an hour digging himself into theeee deepest hole talking about how it’s just not as FUNNY if alex looks TOO GOOD on the podium! it would be UNFAIR! alex is squirming and trying to remember where tf he was planning on going with this zoomed-in great-gatsby-esque picture of george’s eyelids on his screen right now. george silently edits alex’s teeth out of his mouth and tries to erase the fact that he just called alex handsome like 47 times.

MARIO KART SIM RACING

im talking full immersion. sherbet land is ice fucking cold. every time they drive over some kind of giant clock or railroad or something the sim porpoises like a jackhammer. someone is standing behind them with a full tank of water for the splash sections. there’s a legitimate epilepsy warning at the start of the video. bowser puts the fear of god into lando norris.

MAX AND DANIEL DO TEMPORARY TATTOOS

i’m hesitant to allow them access to a bowl of water but i have an extremely clear vision of daniel slapping tats all over the blank spaces on his skin to the point where they overlap and he’s just got shiny plasticky tattoo skin everywhere. max would find this unappealing and also stupid until he realizes all the fake tattoos on his side of the table are replicas of daniel’s actual ones. cut to: daniel with a snake tattoo stuck in his eyebrow hairs hiking his shorts up so max can mirror the placement on his own inner thigh. daniel resembling a concussed post malone, watching max’s careful application of the ‘3’ tattoo. max does a horrible aussie accent and daniel looks like a chimpanzee seeing its own reflection for the first time. cinema.

[gougarfem]

how was the process of getting a dumbphone!

oh my god this is something i'm so excited to talk about, sorry it took me so many months to respond!

getting a dumbphone improved my quality of life so so much. i knew my screentime was high, but didn't realise it was a genuine psychological addiction until i quit. the first few days were extremely rough. time seemed to pass about ten times slower, and i was forced to fill the hours with various hobbies and activities. i know we all love to tell people to touch grass, but i really did have to connect with nature and it did wonders for my mental health.

i think for the first three days i was constantly restless and horribly irritable, looked around for my phone every few minutes, felt intense boredom and even cried a few times lol. your addiction may not be as extreme as mine was and this varies from person to person. however, after about a week i realised i remembered everything i'd done each day, because it was filled with intentional activities and little moments of peace rather than a blur of scrolling. i also wasn't on adhd meds yet, which is something i'll talk about in another post.

not having everything at your fingertips is uncomfortable, but (and it's a cliche) you really start to appreciate the world around you more. i looked forward to spending time with my family, because it filled time and i wasn't half-involved in my phone the entire time. i use an mp3 player to listen to music, and uploading music to it is a meaningful and interesting activity, rather than just shuffling a playlist. i listen to whole albums instead of being flooded with dopamine from spotify firing recommended songs at me. i appreciate music more, i make CDs for friends, i have to be intentional in discovering new artists and music. if i'm having an interesting conversation online, i look forward to going home and logging onto my laptop to continue it. i don't spend my commute, time in class, or time with friends texting somebody else. everything feels more intentional, spaced out, and interesting, even the things i do online.

i also found i stopped performing in every activity i did. i stopped thinking about whether i could post it to instagram or instantly send a picture in a discord server. i started picking up new hobbies for myself, not for an online audience, and living in the moment more. this is really important in the modern age, although again uncomfortable.

the best part was how my connections with others increased through having a dumbphone. i started calling friends rather than messaging on five platforms at once, and they started reciprocating. my message threads are continuous, coherent conversations, rather than sending memes. people realised they have to intentionally reach out to me, and i lost relationships with people who weren't interested in that, but strengthened connections with people who did put in the effort (many of whom i barely talked to in the past). i give people my phone number, not my social media handle, and they actually start conversations with me rather than hitting follow. i get to hear my friends' voices when they have drama to share and realise it takes me forever to type on my flip phone keyboard. again, everything is intentional, takes time, and richer than when i had a smartphone.

i genuinely would recommend it to absolutely everyone (i've kind of become like a crossfit guy in telling people to get a dumbphone lol). i won't pretend it's easy, and most people make excuses - for the first few months of having a dumbphone, i was bedbound or in hospital, and truly relied on online connections to pass time and communicate. it still hugely improved my life. however, no matter your situation there are always, always better options than scrolling an app, and you deserve to pass your time in a memorable way. i think most people don't realise they're addicted/reliant on smartphones, and the idea of quitting is horribly uncomfortable, but at least for me, the benefits were worth it.

i'm happy to answer any questions, i literally could talk about this topic for hours (even if it's stuff like "how would i use x app" "how would i replace x smartphone function").

ditch your smartphone babe, u deserve better <33

[mandu-17]

Miyeon as your girlfriend

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: hey!! idk if ur taking requests but I found your blog yesterday and have been binge-reading pretty much everything, you're so talented 🥺 so incase your requests are open, can i request miyeon as your girlfriend headcanons?🥰

A/N: so sorry this took so long! since it’s still Miyeon’s birthday here please enjoy this little piece nonetheless🤍

I seriously don’t think there’s even a need to talk about her looks because we all have eyeballs and a brain

Miyeon’s visuals are literally top tier, congratulations for being able to make eye contact with her without having heart palpitations

Really likes skinship with you and is naturally very cuddly, even before dating which actually confused you a lot

Especially likes it when she can lean her body on yours and just let you take her whole weight

Or if you’re laying down on the couch or bed she’ll throw herself all over you almost dramatically

But besides that, let’s focus on her sense of humor cause she’s HILARIOUS

You’ll never be bored with her or not smiling because there’s just something about her presence and personality that melts your insides instantly

You always very openly admire how hardworking she is

This feature of hers is usually the cause of her body being sore and stiff

That's when you come in - her masseur

Your soft hands on Miyeon feel divine, there's nothing more she needs after coming home

Obviously it works both ways

You have a bad day or something made you upset? Miyeon is right by your side

Your own therapist who luckily accepts kisses and hugs as payment

Serious when she needs to be and very mature

Just as much as you’re her biggest fan, she’s also your loyal supporter

In any case she’s there to help, give you advices or simply to listen

Literal heart eyes whenever you’re not looking

So so fun to text with

Sends you meme material selfies a lot

Despite having such a interesting job, Miyeon truly wants to listen about your day and how it made you feel

You can’t miss any details, I’m afraid she wouldn’t forgive you if you did

She’s very subtle with flirting and smooth compliments- it makes your heart burst

Has a cute habit of singing love songs from the radio to you when you’re in the car

You’re on her mind almost all the time, Miyeon never fails to inform you whether or not she’s already coming home or staying longer at work 

Kinda clumsy and often confused about things but you love this surprised look on her face

Terrible at games!

But you secretly loved it, sometimes you’re almost convinced she’s doing this bad on purpose

Spends long hours while doing handcrafted gifts for your birthday or anniversary, such a sweetheart

Couple clothes/phone cases/slippers!! Literally everything bc Miyeon thinks it’s cute

You’re her private photographer by now, half of her instagram pictures were taken by you

Rehearsing her lines from dramas with you, especially the cringey ones that make you two laugh your lungs out

Miyeon's laughter is so contagious, even if you’re mad at her you can’t help but crack a smile at the sound of it

She’s usually soft and gentle but has some episodes when she’s randomly slapping your butt or kissing you roughly

When it comes to jealousy, Miyeon was more jealous of you before you started dating

Now she truly trusts you besides why would you even want to look at anybody else when this goddess is in front of  you

Both of you treat it rather as a joke, your girlfriend would sulk only because you passed Shuhua her favorite bag of chips

She just LIVES for the attention you’re giving her seconds later

This is usually when Shu's already out of the room or occupied by her phone because she can't stand you two

Miyeon has her moments as a princess, likes to be the apple of your eye

When it comes to you being jealous, it also doesn’t really happen

Of course your girl is beautiful and there are many people who’d do anything to be you but Miyeon shows you that it’s only your interest that’s pleasing to her

Your clothes are halfway gone by now btw

There’s nothing Miyeon enjoys more than having your clothes with your smell on her

And if you try to address the issue of your closet apparently emptying itself, one look at these precious, shiny eyes is enough to end the discussion

Don’t worry, Miyeon knows the effect she has on you

She’s already used to it

Summing up, you got the girl with the biggest heart out there

Miyeon’s incredible and as her loved one, you’ll stay happy no matter what

[tabsters]

The Twelve Days of Zodiacs - Day 5

"On the fifth day of Christmas, my Zodiacs gave to me, Five ugly sweaters, Four wrapped presents, Three snowmen, Two bread rolls, And a snowball fight under a tree."

it should be noted that this story is in a modern AU, aka an AU where no magic exists. everyone is just normal and untraumatized! the modern AU names for the characters are listed below:

TZE! Gemini: Hannah TZE! Scorpio: Sera TZE! Aries: Alex TZE! Leo: Leo TZE! Lacerta: Lacy (mentioned) TZE! Delphinus: Delphi (mentioned) TZE! Sagittarius: Will (mentioned)

tagging @mythicalmagical-monkeyman @hyperfixation-tangentopia @maiawhimsicalt @sweet-star-cookie

next chapter is TBA

“Thank you for taking me to the mall!” Cassie said as Ciara’s dad drove into the parking lot. The man smiled as he parked the car, stepping out and pulling Cassie’s door open for her.

“It’s no problem at all.” He was a short man, with dark red hair and a sprinkling of freckles across his face. Ciara said that he worked as a daycare teacher, and Cassie could definitely see it. “We’re very glad that Ciara’s making some more friends.”

Sera, who was coming along on their mall trip, stepped out of the car as well, holding Ciara’s bag for her. “Such a gentleman,” Ciara quipped.

“Mm.” Sera only nodded, handing her bag back. “Cassie, you mentioned that you needed to do some Christmas shopping?”

“Oh! Yes!” Cassie rummaged through her bag, making sure that she had her possessions. “I have my own money, though, you don’t need to worry.”

“What do you do?” Ciara’s dad—Mr. Alejandro—asked as they walked into the mall. Ciara let out a loud sigh of relief as they stepped into the heated rooms. “Dog walking? Pet sitting?”

“Better to ask what Cassie doesn’t do,” Ciara laughed, and Cassie blushed. “Anyway, where to first?”

“I saw a really stupid ugly sweater in one of the stores’ websites,” Sera began to say, before getting cut off by one of Ciara’s long, drawn-out groans.

“It’s a family tradition,” Mr. Alejandro said at Cassie’s questioning look. “We dress up in ugly sweaters and take pictures to use for our Christmas cards.”

“I love it,” Sera said cheerfully, the most emotion Cassie had seen from him. “You all look so stupid and you all look so funny.”

“Lacy and Delphi certainly seem to think so,” Ciara grumbled. “Did you know that your friends made last year’s picture of me a meme?”

Sera chuckled, pulling out his phone to show Cassie the aforementioned meme. “Yeah, I was the one who sent them the photo.”

Cassie looked at the picture on Sera’s phone. It was zoomed in on Ciara, who was sitting like a cat, her arms attempting to cover up her ugly sweater. She was pouting, her lower lip stuck out.

“You look cute!” Cassie said, giggling as Ciara recreated the exact same pout in real time. “No, really!”

“Just show us the stupid sweaters,” Ciara sighed, swatting at Sera’s arm.

-

After an hour of walking around in confused circles (and after getting sidetracked and spending a solid half hour in Barnes and Noble), they finally found the store Sera was talking about.

“They opened very recently,” Sera attempted to defend himself. “They’re a small business.”

“Just admit you got lost.” Ciara pointed at one of the mannequins, who was in fact wearing an ugly sweater. It had a giant reindeer with lights strewn all over its antlers. “That one would be good for you, my dearest brother.”

“I already have my sweater,” Sera said proudly. “It has Santa falling into a snowdrift. My boyfriend gave it to me as an early present.”

“Good God, not again,” Ciara said. Mr. Alejandro patted her on the shoulder, possibly offering his condolences to his daughter. "You and Hannah, always talking about great your partners are."

"If Alex ever ends up confessing to Will, you're doomed, Ciara." Sera stuck his tongue out, walking into the store.

"I don't think I could take it if all three of your siblings started dating," Mr. Alejandro stage-whispered out of the side of his mouth. Both Cassie and Ciara laughed.

They walked through the store, trying to figure out which sweaters would look good for each of Ciara's family members. Ciara vehemently denied the idea that any sweater would look good on her.

"It's for the bit, Ciara," Cassie said, holding up a sweater that had Santa stuck in the chimney of a house, his legs flailing in the air. "Commit to the bit!"

"I've been committing to the bit since I was seven," Ciara complained loudly. She nudged her father in the side, startling him. "This guy and Mom thought it was a good idea as a family bonding activity when I first got adopted. And then we just never stopped."

"We were doing it before we got you!" Mr. Alejandro protested. He scrolled through his phone, showing Cassie a picture of him and a woman. Both were dressed in ugly sweaters, and the photo dated back to ten years ago. "Your mother and I have been doing it ever since we started dating!"

"That's your mother?!" Cassie asked, mouth falling open in shock. The woman was ethereally beautiful, with her black hair falling over one shoulder in one long plait. Her dark skin was dusted with gold glitter around her cheeks, and her smile was infectious. She somehow made the ugly sweater look like high fashion. "Is she a model?"

"Real estate agent." Ciara tapped her mother's face. "She's the breadwinner of this family. Dad's the trophy husband."

"And I'm perfectly happy being your mother's trophy husband!"

"SHIT!" Sera came rushing back towards them, a panicked look on his face. "Guys, hide me!"

He then proceeded to duck behind all three of them. This was a mostly unsuccessful task, as he was tall and lanky, and could not be easily hidden.

"What are you hiding from?" Cassie asked the man, who was now trying to see if he could make a mad dash towards the exit. She looked around. The store seemed devoid of any imminent danger.

"Ah, shit," Ciara said. "It's his ex."

"Which one?" Mr. Alejandro asked.

"How many does he have?" Cassie asked, bewildered.

Ciara actually began counting them out on her fingers. "There was the guy who was really into Call of Duty, the genuinely shitty one, the really pretty blind girl, the girl that helps out at the bookshop on the corner of—"

"It's Leo," Sera finally hissed out.

"Ah." Mr. Alejandro nodded in understanding. "But I thought you two were on decent terms?"

"Then he dated Hannah, and now we're not on decent terms!" Sera whisper-shouted. "I may or may not have given him a failed shovel talk."

"He dated you and your sister?" Cassie asked, getting more confused by the second.

"He dated Sera, Hannah, and Alex, but I think that last one was a dare." Ciara sighed, rubbing her temple. "Or a result of spin the bottle. I forgot."

"Who cares—he's here, he's in my vicinity, can we please get out—"

"Sera!" A loud voice said before Sera could finish. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

The speaker was a tall—taller than Sera, surprisingly—man with tanned skin and bleached blonde hair. He was wearing a golden fur coat, the fur looking remarkably like lion fur. He flicked his sunglasses up to his forehead, revealing golden contacts. A sun necklace jangled around his neck.

"Hi, Ciara," Leo said, holding up his hand for a high-five. Ciara had to jump up to slap his hand. "Mr. Ramirez. And...who's this?"

"This is my friend," Ciara said, gesturing to Cassie. "Cassie, this is...uh, well, he used to be the head of the theater club in middle school."

"I'm her mentor!" Leo said cheerfully, patting Ciara on the head. "What are y'all shopping for?"

"Ah, well, we were looking for ugly sweaters, for our family tradition," Mr. Alejandro said, playing mediator. He cast a wary glance to his son, who was trying to sneak his way out of the store. "But I believe we're just about finished."

"I can help!" Leo punctuated his words with a couple of pats to Ciara's head. "Sera knows that I have an excellent taste in fashion.

All of them looked towards Sera, waiting for his judgment. The boy sighed, trudging over to join the group.

"I don't get why you needed a theater club. There was already a theater class." Sera flicked Leo on the shoulder. Leo just smiled. Cassie distantly thought that they didn't look like they were on such bad terms.

"It was for theater enthusiasts like me and your sister!" Leo walked leisurely through the store, pulling sweaters seemingly at random off the shelves and depositing them in Ciara's arms. "Those that appreciate the art of acting."

"I'm in theater!" Cassie piped up. "Tech theater, though. Actors have too many lines to memorize."

"And without techies like you, we wouldn't be able to put on such a good show," Leo said, patting Cassie on the shoulder. "Theater is a collaborative art form!"

Sera sighed some more, probably at the fact that his ex was swooping in and stealing his spotlight. 

They found four good sweaters for the other members of their family: a green sweater with a 3-D Christmas tree for Ciara's mom, a red sweater with an enormous Rudolph on it for Ciara's dad, a darker red sweater that said "ON THE NAUGHTY LIST" for Alex, and a white sweater with the words "ELVES MUST STOP CRYING BEFORE RETURNING TO WORK" for Hannah.

"Ciara should wear this one!" Leo held up a red sweater with three cats on it, under the words 'Have a Meow-y Christmas!'. Leo held the sweater up to Ciara, who scowled.

"No, this one," Sera said, pulling a blue sweater with a pixelated Mario out of the pile. "She likes Mario more than she likes cats. Right, Ciara?"

Ciara looked between the two boys, seemingly unsure on whose opinion she should go with. She glanced back at Cassie with an expression that seemed to say 'HELP'. 

Admittedly, it seemed like the two boys were having a silent contest over which one of them Ciara liked better. Cassie was inclined to be on Sera's side, because something about Leo seemed a bit...off. She wasn't quite sure what it was. 

"I think the Mario one looks nice!" Cassie said, stepping in between the two. "Maybe you can give the cat one to someone else."

Leo made a sound of faux disappointment, before putting his sweater back into the box. "Alright, alright. I see I'm outnumbered."

"Ha!" Sera said in triumph, pumping his fist into the air. "I win. Let's go to check out."

Ciara groaned some more, shoving the pile of sweaters into her father's hands. Leo raised his hands in surrender before ruffling Ciara's hair and walking away.

"See you around, Ciara," He said, smiling at her. He looked towards Cassie. "And nice meeting you, Cassie." 

Sera crossed his arms behind his back, looking towards Cassie as well.

His eyes said what he could not: Thank you.

check out @sweet-star-cookie's starglass zodiac lore if you liked this!! questions about my lore are greatly appreciated!!

[madaraservingcunt]

I wanna start creating too but I'm afraid i will suckkkk :((((

Wanna hear a little secret?

Here's how I started digital art when I first got my iPad back in April. This took me like one hour, and I was super disappointed in myself. I almodt felt like giving up, but I knew I was being really hard on myself. I looked up tutorials on how to handle the pen and started looking up anatomy lessons to figure out why things looked so stiff...

So then I did this. It looked better, but I knew there was room for improvement. So, I watched more videos on perspective and hands...

Then I got this. I was finally content with the sketch, so I went ahead and inked it!

I nearly quit because I compared myself to artists on here who have been refining their craft for years and years. But its not fair to myself to compare my beginnings to their ends. Eventually, I had to accept that I'm learning art because I find joy in creativity, not because I want to be better than someone.

This was my second week of having the iPad. I spent dozens of hours practicing. Not everyone has the funds or the leisure to spend that long learning digital art, but if you are scared about sucking when you first start even on paper and pencil, I promise you, everyone has been there.

AND NOW I CAN COLOR STUFF! I haven't posted anything yet because I've just been busy with life stuff. BUT when I post and get 0 notes, I won't care because I got to learn and grow as an artist in the process of making it. PLUS I can go back and see how much progress I've made!

I could get sad my art doesn't get a lot of notes or recognition, but I don't create stuff so I can get likes and reblogs. If I ever started really basing my artistic worth on whether or not I got a certain amount of attention on it, I would quit.

There are some memes or AMVs I spent half an hour or more on that get a couple of likes, maybe one reblog. Then there is shit that took me five seconds to make while I'm in the shower that gets over a thousand notes. I'm kind of going on a spiel now, but my point is you have to suck before you get good, and tumblr notes do not equate your worth.

For example: @sovereignantag1 and @pompie-artworks are STUNNING artists who I look up. They have such unique styles, but they haven't gotten thousand notes posts (yet!) I literally find myself staring at their work so I can get inspired, and if I could give them 100k notes, I would.

Good luck anon!! Please make your sucky art and share with me so I can enjoy your content!!!! Cause at the end of the day, remember we all just love seeing pictures/memes/videos of our man Madara. Who cares how "good" it looks? It's beautiful because it came from you! And I love that people share and create art.

OKAY MY SPEECH IS DONE

I will end it with this:

This artist is someone I admire and look up to, and HE thought he sucked at art and did end up quitting for over a decade. Check out this video, this is what got me out of my slump when I wanted to give up.

[puncivilian]

Been feeling a lot of pain that's hard to describe to the people in my life, because of how it sounds to our amatonormative society. I'm still not sure where I fall exactly, whether I'm actually capable of feeling romantic feelings or not. I know I'd be happy in a close partnership with someone for the rest of my life, but I don't feel a desire for romance. My strong platonic and familial affection for the people in my life is discounted, it feels like.

My best friend got married this fall and a combination of misunderstandings, miscommunications, and insecurity meant his then-fiancee insisted I couldn't stand by him while they got married. And he just... Did it. Like hey, person I call a sister, everyone I know and love is gonna watch me pledge my life to someone and you're gonna be in the audience as a normal guest, like a casual friend. Like... I'm starting a new family, and you're not even part of the picture, literally.

And I dunno, this came after some hours of discussion and shed tears by everyone, my friend apologized for his part, I did for not being more social, but at the same time. I was fucking exhausted this year. I've been drained since early July and it's only after a full week and a half of time off after my contract term ended, aka a week and a half of uninterrupted time where I could eat, sleep, and rest freely, that I started feeling halfway human again. (Aka waking up after 9 hours of sleeping and feeling functional)

This year has been shit! I was clear about that. My mom was literally hospitalized for a week and had to change her entire diet afterwards. Then they lost their rental because the people who own it have a kid going to college, and that takes precedence over the family living there because that's how our fucked-up housing system is!

I just... Tired. Sad. Wounded in a way that has already started to scar. I don't want to lose my found brother, but part of me wonders if I've lost that choice entirely. He has texted memes and stuff to me since then, and I've responded, but... There's a big, unresolved well of hurt between us, but I'm blind to what's going on on his side.

It really hurt to have one of the people I care most about in the world blame me for not getting over my social anxiety if I cared about him. Like man, that's not how that works. If love of those I care about could fix me, or even allow me to 'get over' minor inconveniences, it would have a long time ago. Sorry: improvement is a long road I have to trod and I'm impeded by having to do other shit in life. I just spent months spending 8+ hours a day 5+ days a week in offices filled with people who think not having lunch outside is asocial. My sympathy towards your shitty living situation over the last year is not degraded by my suffering, why is yours of my own?

I just... Can't imagine doing the same in their place.

[heeracha]

[ screw dms/texts. let's talk in gdocs! ] — s. jake

content/warning(s): college bf!jake x gn!reader, title's pretty self-explanatory, whipped bf!jake, fluff <3,, also, unproof read :P

wc: 0.6k

note: ,,,,yes, i was procrastinating on what i should be doing. but anyway, tysm for 200 followers AAAAAAAAAA <3

you grin goofily as your eyes remain on the screen of your laptop which was opened in the google docs site, waiting for your partner and boyfriend to see what you did. you could just honestly picture boyfriend!jake sighing, scratching his head as he sees what you did with the file. but of course, jake is one whipped guy for you, so he will eventually laugh at it, anyway.

jake is one for doing the work as fast as possible, but he knows you would always goof around when using google docs. but if you both use microsoft word, it's more hassle than the other, so he had to pick the former. since, you two were partnered for the thesis research (which is also the cause of the semester long relationship), you both have a reason to spend more time together. but not now, since jake had something else for another subject.

what did you do anyway? oh, nothing. you just put a picture of jake in the file, under the third related literature with a doodle saying 'i may not be lang leav who writes poetry about love, but all i know is i love this guy so much <3' with heart doodles around his face... and drawing cat nose and ears.

within a minute, you see jake typing under your—as you'd like to call it—"masterpiece".

baby, i love you, too but focus on your work.

soon, jake erases his message along with your "masterpiece" as he continues to work on his part. but of course, you're stubborn. you were honestly not in the mood to work yet, being the big procrastinator that you are, so.. yes, you started to type in another message, somewhere near where jake is typing—but not on the actual part where he is typing, so you wouldn't mess it up.

how's your day? :>

jake laughs as he sees it, typing in that he's okay and asking how's your day in return. of course, jake knows you're not in the mood, so he expected a long answer from you, which you did. you told him how the day went from the moment you woke up to now, talking to him through google docs (which is cool in your opinion. dms, texts, etc. are overrated!).

after an hour of jake letting you procrastinate, he calls you through facetime and immediately, he was greeted with your pouting face to which he laughed. "baby, i know you're still lazy to do our work, but let's get this done so we can talk all night, deal?" he says and without removing the pout from your lips, you nod to which he laughed at (i swear, the man is whipped for you. everything you do is cute in his eyes).

"this way, you won't get distracted, okay? i'm watching you." jake says and you chuckle lightly.

"you sound like an fbi agent." you say to which jake laughs. you start doing your work, trying to do it fast, wanting to just talk and spend time with your boyfriend. within an hour and half of working, jake stands up from his spot.

"i'll be back. i'm just going to the restroom." jake says and you hum, smiling lightly. you keep working and to your surprise, the file shifts and you let out a surprised sound as you scroll up, wondering what happened.

you find yourself smiling at what jake did. he added a meme of the famous duck plushie, holding a trophy (but what seems like a doll goblet in reality) with a heart pasted on it, saying 'you won my heart' on the side.

proud of you, baby. love you. <3

[brattyfics]

Like That

Pairing: Rio x Black!Reader

Summary: You and Rio get to know each other better. Loosely based on ‘Like That’ by Doja Cat. 

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3.5K

Installments: Say So | Like That | Talk Dirty

And baby, I want it, and I'll just be honest 'Cause I just can't front when I look at you

About six weeks have passed since Rio declared himself your man, and you quickly learned he took the title very seriously.

He was busier than usual with ‘flipping his game,’ and you were busy preparing to transition your shop, but you saw each other often despite time constraints. You agreed date nights at least once a week were a must, but when you couldn’t see each other, Rio made sure to end nights with a phone call. Virtually falling asleep next to him gave you butterflies, reminding you just how exciting new relationships could be. It took prodding, but he told you made-up bedtime stories and the boring details of his day. In return, you shared things about yourself— childhood memories, the crazy things your mom did to embarrass you. He was sweet and attentive, and you found it refreshing to be with someone who was just as infatuated with you.

On your second date, he took you to his favorite restaurant, a fancy sushi place with expensive rolls. He taught you to hold chopsticks the wrong way the way he did and even fed you across the small table, a couple of unfortunate rolls falling apart due to his prodding. You tried your best to hide your amusement at the pensive look on his face. For whatever reason, Rio thought of himself as a sushi connoisseur, but it was clear to you that he was still learning.

“You’re no better than me!” He admonished when he noticed the way you held your chopsticks. Like his technique, it was incorrect, but it worked for you— sort of. “I never said I was.” You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face any longer. “You’re the one who comes here weekly. I thought you were a professional, and we’re in the same boat.” He folded his arms on top of the table as he insisted you were wrong, but secretly he found your teasing endearing. Later that night, he called and gave you a cheesy line about loving to see you smile.

The following week, you had lunch at a mom-and-pop soul food restaurant that served the best cornbread and peach cobbler in the city. The owners, an adorable older couple, Donna and Gene, and servers alike stopped by your table to meet Rio. Donna gushed over Rio, showering him with compliments and extra cornbread. “Girl, he is cute!” She told you, failing miserably at whispering. He smirked as you rolled your eyes, but he handled the attention well, being friendly and personable even when Gene kept going on and on about changes to the menu, one chef to another.

A few days later, he called you up randomly and asked you to get ready and ride with him somewhere. “What should I wear?” You asked, hoping for a hint. You could hear him smile as he said, “It doesn’t even matter, ma. You always look good.” The occasion had turned out to be ‘Foodtruck Friday.’ Barbecue, kebab, taco, ice cream, and other miscellaneous food trucks were parked in a spacious lot in Downtown Detroit. You settled at a picnic table and shared several plates of food as you discussed the possibility of your own mobile ‘Mad Batter’ shop somewhere down the line. It got you thinking about the future.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” You asked the dreaded question in between bites of a colorful Korean fusion taco. He stiffened as he considered the answer. “What is this, a job interview?” Sometimes you saw peeks of bossman Rio rather than the Christopher Castillo you were getting to know. It happened seemingly out of nowhere when you asked questions he felt were invasive.

You looked up from the panko-fried shrimp, red cabbage, shredded carrots, and tasty orange sauce wrapped up in a flour tortilla with a frown. You had two choices: respond in the way he had or make light of the situation. So, you said, “Kinda. You’re auditioning for a spot on my roster, so...”

He stopped chewing the half-eaten dumpling and swallowed hard. “That’s not funny.”

“You better start taking the interviewing part of the audition more seriously then.” You wiped your fingers on a napkin, and he gathered your hand in his own, wearing a look you couldn’t decipher. “You got it, ma.”

You played a game of mini-golf at the local arcade. Rio stood tall behind you, holding you by your hips as he corrected your stance. You purposefully arched your back, brushing against him just slightly. “Like this?” You looked over your shoulder with the most innocent look you could muster, but his eyes were glued to your ass. “Yeah, just like that.” He answered in a low tone without looking up. You giggled as you took your swing, adding a wiggle for his benefit. You pretended to care about the ball as it glided across the bright green tarp towards the hole. “How was that?” You chirped, looking down the lane.

“I can’t even lie. I don’t care about the game right now. I just wanna watch you.” Your aim was terrible, and the ball never went in the hole without several attempts, but he insisted you finish playing the course. You teased him about it for days after despite his claim that he actually enjoyed the game because it was one of Marcus’ favorites.

“Stop lying! You just wanted an excuse to openly watch my ass.”

“Why you always gotta call me out?”

You shopped a cozy health and wellness store with hundreds of cool little trinkets for sale. Neither of you had been there before, so you took your time exploring, stealing unexpected kisses from the other. Rio took full advantage of the size of the store, pulling you by the hand and holding you close to his side.

He frowned at the large collection of shiny crystals. “A rock, really? What does anybody need with a rock?”

“It’s not a rock!” You hissed, head whipping around as you hoped the owner didn’t hear him.

“What is it then? It looks like a rock to me.” He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s a crystal!”

“What’s the difference?”

“It has healing properties...” Rio snorted but strung his arm across your shoulder and listened intently as you read the info cards to him. When it was all said and done, he bought an aventurine stone to apologize to the owner for prosperity, well-being, and good luck.

The next day, he disappeared with no warning. You had been worried sick until Mick let you know he was busy handling something. It would have only taken a minute to tell you that, so you were (understandably) pissed. He showed up at the shop several days later like nothing had ever happened. “What’s up, mama?” The greeting that usually melted you grated on your nerves. All of your feelings about the situation bubbled up to the surface. It was hard to find the right words— you were still getting to know each other, so how mad could you be? At the same time, how little did he think of you to not say anything? Finally, you settled on, “I can’t do the disappearing act.”

Rio wasn’t used to answering to anyone, not even his child’s mother, about his whereabouts, but he put his palms up in surrender when he saw the serious expression you wore.

“You’re right, mama. That’s my bad. It won’t happen again.”

And it hadn’t.

But knowing ahead of time only made it a tiny bit easier, especially when he didn’t have a set return date. You were going on day seven (the longest you had gone without seeing him since you started dating) when he called to say he made it home and wanted to see you. Your heavy heart swelled with relief. You missed him way more than you probably should have, so you insisted on a night in at your place, wanting him to feel relaxed and at home instead of on guard somewhere public.

It had been a long six weeks without sex while he romanced you with delicious food and beautiful words. It wasn’t an easy task, but you knew as soon as sex was thrown in the mix, you would be done for, either destined to be his or ruined by him. It was a scary thought, but distance had indeed made the heart grow fonder, and you cared about him enough to take a chance.

He was set to arrive within the hour, but you were still unsure of what to wear, frantically rummaging through the dresser for something cute and comfortable. You let out a frustrated groan when your phone started to ring, thinking Rio might have come early, but when you look down at your phone, you see your best friend’s name and face. You swipe quickly, accepting the FaceTime call. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey, stranger!” You pick up the phone, so you can look at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She replies with just as much sass. “I haven’t talked to you in what— two weeks?”

“We talk—“

“—text.”

“Okay, fine. Text. We text every day. What are you talking about?”

“That’s not the same.” She insists even as you remind her of the ridiculous amount of time you spend trading memes and food pictures with her.

“Anyway, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to decide what I’m going to wear between this, this, or this.” You move the camera around, showing her the different options. A black-and-white tank and short set with ‘Being cute is not a crime’ in a cute font. A fuzzy grey sweatsuit set with hearts, or a simple cream hoodie with matching shorts.

“Um, what’s the occasion?” You giggle at the look on her face, knowing she thinks none of the above are appropriate for wearing outside of the house.

“Movie night in.”

“You need help picking an outfit for movie night with yourself?” Her face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, is it movie night with yourself?” You try to be casual about it, shrugging your shoulders in response. As usual, she sees through your bullshit and goes straight into an interrogation. “Oh, bitch. You been holding out on me!” She asks you five questions in a row without stopping to breathe before settling on one. “Who?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “...Rio.”

“Rio?” She frowns. “Like the guy we work for, Rio? With the eyebrows and the neck tattoo, Rio?”

“Yes, that Rio.”

“Wow.” You wince but decide it’s best to get it over with. “What? I know you, so I know there’s more where that came from.”

“I don’t know what to say! From what I can tell, he’s a decent dude, I guess, but you know what he does. You definitely know what we do for him! You don’t think that could be a problem?”

“It’s messy, for sure, and I can admit that, but I’ve been thinking about getting out anyway...” She nods. “Then, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say about that. You’re both grown, and you know what you’re doing.” She was your best friend, which meant she’d always give her honest opinion, but wouldn’t berate you about your choices. Just like that, you return to your regular discussion topics, everything from warehouse gossip (yes, even in the business of crime, there’s a rumor mill) to new music releases. Before you knew it, forty minutes had passed, and Rio was calling your phone. You promised to call her more often before hanging up.

You sing your ‘hello’ into the phone, hoping Rio can’t detect the shakiness in your voice as you clumsily pull on your bottoms.

“Hey, mama. You about ready? I know you’re sensitive about your space and all that.” He was referring to the fact that he had never been past the doorway of your home. Your home was your sacred place, so you were extra careful about who came in and what energy they brought. It was always nerve-wracking to let somebody into the space that you cherished so much.

“Yeah.” He picks up on the hesitancy in your voice. “Are you sure?” You nod your head as if he can see you before telling him yes with a giggle. “Alright, well, I’m outside. Can I come in?” You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your tummy. “Yeah, I’ll come unlock the door.” He whispers his thanks, and you take a moment to force yourself to relax. When you meet him at the door, you do so with an open mind and heart, taking in his appearance with a goofy grin on your face. As usual, he’s dressed in all black, wearing a well-fitted t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s casual but still so high quality and attractive.

“Hi.” You breathe out like a dork when you realize you’re staring. It helps that he seems just as mesmerized, stepping forward to envelop you in a tight, warm hug. He sways you from side to side before pulling back, his hands resting heavily on the top of your ass. He settles for a quick peck on the lips because he has something to say. “You’re as pretty as ever, darlin’.” He says earnestly, shaking his head as he steps back to look you over once more.

“Kiss me again.” His hands cup your ass as you devour each other in the open doorway. You forget your surroundings. “Damn, ma. Can I at least get inside before you jump my bones? I don’t mind giving your neighbors a show if that’s your thing, but…” You turn to hide your embarrassment, leaving him to close the door behind you as you gesture around the room as if you’re in an episode of MTV Cribs. “... here’s the living room. The kitchen’s through the arch. The bathroom’s over there...” He follows you with his red as you point.

“And the bedroom?”

You snort. “The tour stops here for now. Sit down.” Your tone leaves no room for argument. He settles into the soft couch while you grab the snack tray from the kitchen. Homemade popcorn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and dried fruit gummies are on the menu.

“All this for me?” His arms snake around your waist so that you can curl up into his side. “What we watching?” You grab the remote. “I saw a trailer this week that caught my attention. I’ll play it for you.” He didn’t care what you watched as long as he got to be close to you, so it didn’t take long for you to get the movie started. He stole glances at you when his knuckles brushed against your bare knees under the blanket. You’re embarrassed at how wet the small action makes you, so you stretch out across the couch and place your bare feet in his lap, silently planning your revenge. The movie may as well not be playing because you couldn’t be less interested in the plot as you lightly stroke him through his sweatpants with the balls of your feet.

“Ma...” He warns, watching you in the low lighting. He’s come to learn you like to tease, but he doesn’t think he can take it, not tonight. “Hmm?” You hum innocently, loving the strained look on your face. He doesn’t move even as you sit up on your haunches and kiss him. It’s slow and long in the best way. He pulls you to sit in his lap. His hands roam your body as you grind down onto him, relishing in the feeling of the soft skin on your tummy. He sighs into your mouth as one hand finds your bare breasts.

He pulls away to talk shit. “No bra? You just knew I was gonna put out, huh?” He pushes the cotton material up so he can see you properly. “Perfect.” He murmurs into your skin. You let him kiss and lick and suck on your nipples until the pressure you feel below is too much to handle. You’re a quivering mess when he finally helps you pull the cotton material up and over your head. It lands on top of the television behind you, but neither of you notice.

You nudge him until he removes his own shirt, and then he lifts his hips to help you when you begin tugging on his sweats. They puddle at his feet while you spread your legs wide, desperate to get your hands on him. “I could cry right now.” You admit honestly when you finally see him, biting your lip. He arches a brow. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, darlin’?” His hips jerk when you take him into your hands, the cold temperature surprising him.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You whisper excitedly, staring with wonder as he hardens in your hands. He barks out a laugh, stunned by your ability to make him laugh, even with his dick in your hands. “That’s really nice, ma. I feel real special.” Your eyes meet, and silent promises of all the filthy things you’re going to do to each other are exchanged. “You should. I’m about to change your life.” He throbs in your hands, loving that you find small ways to challenge him.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He wraps his arms around you in preparation to get up, but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don’t wanna.”

“No? What you wanna do then?”

You answer him by slipping to your knees. You spit on his dick, stroking him up and down slowly. He watches you closely as you lower your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip. It takes a lot of restraint, but he lets you do your thing, slowly working him deeper into your throat. He closes his eyes as he concentrates on lasting, but he can’t turn his ears off, the obscene smacks painting a vivid picture for him. When you swipe your tongue across his balls, he moves to stop you, grabbing your shoulders. Fire dances in your eyes as you realize you got him where you want him. “I don’t wanna.” You repeat.

“You are a brat.”

You release him with a pop. “The biggest.” You admit, swallowing him once more. He groans, thinking he can’t believe you’re the same sweet girl who bakes in a frilly pink apron and begs him to tell her bedtime stories.

“I want you to fuck me now.” He stops you before you can bend over the couch. “Slow down. I want you on your back, darlin.”

You throw his earlier words back at him. “That’s nice. I feel really special.”

“You should.” He mocks you, instructing you to hold your legs wide. He wastes no time licking and sucking you as enthusiastically as you had done him. “You’re so pretty. I could eat this pretty pussy forever.” He compliments as you squirm in his hold. “You’d let me, huh?” You shake your head frantically. “No! You’d drive..me crazy!” Payback is a mother, especially when Rio’s the one dishing it out. “Wait, wait—“You whimper, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?” He cajoles. He almost wants to laugh at the distressed look on your face. “I want you.” You pout, trying to sweet-talk him.

“You have me.”

“Not like this. Inside.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.” You swallow, watching as he fumbles around with his pants searching for a condom. He opens the golden foil packet with expert fingers, positioning himself in between your spread legs. “You don’t have any pointers for me now?” He drags his tip up and down your slit, slowly pushing his way further. Teasing. You shake your head. “No. Just fuck me.”

“That ain’t polite. You gotta say please, mama.” You scowled, but he didn’t budge. “Please.” You pleaded with the sweetest tone you could muster, sighing as he gave in. You cursed at the stretch, him at the way you squeezed him. “You feel…” He couldn’t find the words, so he buried his face in your neck, trying to gain some composure. You caressed the back of his neck sweetly. “You feel good too, baby.”

His hips stuttered forward, and you gasped as he worked himself deeper. You grasp his shoulders tightly, your nails embedding themselves into the soft skin.

“Yes!” You squeal.

“Like that?” He grits out, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“Yes, just like that!” You cry, moaning as he pounds up into you. His lips find yours again, and it’s bliss. Then before you can stop yourself, you’re calling him Daddy like it’s his given name. He groans into your sweaty neck like he’s in pain.

“You’re so nasty.” Overwhelmed and breathless, you whine your protest, “You’re nasty. Look at what you’re doing to me.” His eyes shift to where you’re connected. You’re creaming all over him and leaking down onto the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything other than coming. You do just that, mewling as you make an even bigger mess between your legs. He whispers filthy things into your ear as he finishes, grunting at the way you seem to be sucking him in even deeper.

“That was—“

“—unreal.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you can bring yourself to move. Your sweat-covered skin sticks together. You swipe your hand against your forehead while he pants.

“I wanted to ride you at least once tonight, but after that, I’ll be lucky to make it to bed.”

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903

RIO TAGLIST

@xsweetdellzx​

[allthingsarmin]

fckboy armin? + degredation is always a good combination <3

I was so excited to write this dose of Armin brainrot, omg 😩

If it’s alright with you, anon, I did this request in more of a headcanon format, but the ending is more of a fanfiction format. I’m also sorry I took so long to write this omg.

MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader

TW: Mentions of NSFW topics + degradation, mean!armin, manipulation, fuckboy topics

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin whose style resembles that of the horny, manipulative, ghost-y men on campus yet is just too hot for you to handle. The way he wears dark silver rings on his left thumb, middle, and pointer fingers that accentuate his slender, pale fingers and clean-cut nails. The way the small, dark tattoos on his knuckles, right forearm, and collarbone add an aura of mystery and aggression to his being that just exudes sex. The way he wears a gold chain necklace with distressed jeans and a plain t-shirt that’s just a little too tight and shows off his pecks. Or the way he wears long black joggers and an oversized long-sleeve black shirt that makes him look taller. The way he doesn’t wear his mask correctly, always hanging on one of his ears which compliment his stud earrings and devilish smirk. The way he is broke because he’s always spending money on the newest, trendy shoes. The way he always uses way too much cologne… One look at him, and you can sense his ‘asshole attitude,’ but you can’t deny it makes your lower regions pulsate.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who’s body is so perfectly sculpted and toned that it leaves you thinking dirty thoughts in class. The way he sits in class with his sleeves rolled up, laying back relaxed in the chair, right leg bouncing out of boredom as his hard cock becomes noticeable in his grey sweatpants makes you want to run to your dorm and touch yourself. The way his abs call out to you to graze your fingertips against them when he lifts his shirt up to wipe away the sweat after walking home from the gym. The way his beautifully slender fingers hold his phone or push his hair back when he’s frustrated makes you think about how good they would feel inside you. The way his accentuated collarbone peaks through his thin t-shirts, allowing you to see the hickeys and imprints of love bites from god knows how many women makes you jealous. The way his skin is so pale and so soft that his blonde leg hair becomes barely noticeable. The way his golden hair brings out a plethora of the shades of blue in his eyes, and oh how his haircut suits him perfectly, shaping his jawline very well. How his beautiful blue eyes dangerously lure you into him, the soft but manipulative stares he gives you. How he can’t seem to maintain eye contact with you for more than three seconds because he looks at your breasts. The sinister yet sexy smiles he has plastered upon his face when talking with his friends about ‘some other whore’ he fucked the other day… Armin is attractive, and he knows he is attractive. Though you hate how arrogant his looks have made him, his suggestive stares and lip bites from such a handsome man make your heart flutter and mind only focused on one thing.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is always posting thirst traps on instagram. You know… The pictures with the squinted eyes and the bitten lower bottom lip, either showing off his money or new shoes, pictures beside a nice car, suggestive pictures with the new girls he’s been fucking recently, biting his chain necklaces because he thinks it’s sexy. Only follows ‘successful’ men and offensive meme accounts but mostly follows half-naked women and supermodels. Leaves nasty comments on ugly womens’ pictures, calling them whores while he’s in hot girls’ DMs sending unsolicited dick pics and asking for nudes. Has thousands of followers, mostly from the party girls and rude men who go to his college. Won’t let you tag him in a photo unless he ‘looks hot.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes slutty gym pictures with his shirt off, abs out, shorts low enough to see his V line, hands in his hair, and a wink. Sends it to every girl in his snapchat contacts and posts it on his story with the ‘slide up’ text.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who hits you with the “you up?” at 2am on snapchat after ghosting you for two months. Tells you how much he misses your lewd moans and sloppy cunt, and then after pressuring you to give him nudes, he saves them and then doesn’t talk to you for at least a week.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is so intelligent and dangerously manipulative. Who is so smart that he doesn’t need or want to pay attention in class, who convinces you to let him keep the nudes you sent him on snapchat, who reels you right back in when you try to move on from him.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who was nice to you at first, befriending you when you looked so alone, shy, and innocent, who only chose you because you looked so easy to take advantage of when he finally closes in on you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who says he doesn’t want ‘any of that relationship stuff’ because all of his exes were crazy and that he only wants to date hot chicks.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who only texts you at ungodly hours during the weekdays and plays games like ‘20 questions’ with you so he can ask you if you’re either a virgin or a whore, if you like oral, if you’ve thought about him in dirty ways before… or truth or dare, asking you if you if you want to be his slut or daring you to send him lewd pictures of yourself.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes every chance he can get to turn anything sexual: the way your skirt is just a little too short that makes him suddenly grab your upper thighs, the way you innocently lick your ice cream cone on a hot summer day - he tells you to put your tongue on his cock instead, how you put your hair up in a high ponytail just makes him want to pull on it and kiss the crook of your neck… it all leaves him clouded with dirty thoughts.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who calls you ‘babe’ and refers to you as his ‘girl’ even though he has a million bitches on the side.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who makes you feel like shit about yourself because he’s constantly sending you womens’ profiles on Instagram, saying you should look more like them and ‘get a nicer ass.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who becomes more controlling as your sexual relationship continues, basically forcing you to let him check your phone in case you're messaging other dudes and being naughty for men besides him but gets defensive when you want to see his phone.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who refuses to eat you out but expects you to praise his cock with your slutty mouth and wet tongue.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t really care about your personal problems or pain, and whenever you tell him you’re hurting on the inside, he offers to let you come over to his house so that he can fuck you: “once my cock is inside you again, you’ll forget all about your sadness.”

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t use condoms because he ‘can’t feel anything’ when he wears them, so he just assumes that you’re on birth control when he cums inside you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who violates your privacy when he’s online gaming with his closest friends, Eren and Jean, as he tells them through the microphone about how tight and wet your pussy is and how much you enjoy being treated like a slut, your mouth full of his cock and pussy dripping with his cum… going as far as sending secretive videos he took of you to them where you’re whimpering and begging for Armin’s cock.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who pressures you to do risky things you don’t want to do, but you just can’t find the courage to say no to him when he stares at you with his intense blue eyes… like when he asks you to sit next to him in the back of the class then without your approval, sneaks his slender fingers into your panties and starts harshly playing with your clit. He devilishly smirks as you try to suppress your cries of disapproval. Or like when he convinces you to let him take videos of you when you’re in a position that exposes your slick cunt to him so well. Or even how he manipulates you into trying something new that you’ve never been comfortable with, like swallowing his thick cum, letting him put you in a full-nelson, maybe letting him choke you while he spits in your mouth.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who finally closes in on you, begging you to help him study for the upcoming test since he wasn’t paying attention in class because ‘you’re just so distracting’ to him, acting so smart and innocent and respectably in front of the teacher when Armin really knows that your slutty outfits and wet pussy says otherwise… so you excitedly go over to his dorm, thankful that finally it will be a normal get-together where you could actually find out more about Armin instead of finding out more about how he likes his cock sucked. Upon entering his dorm, it is apparent that he never planned on studying with you as his textbooks are nowhere to be found, and he is sitting on the couch half-naked with Netflix on the TV.

ᵔᴥᵔ “Oh hey, y/n, didn’t expect to see you here so soon,” he says nonchalantly. You unknowingly stare at his broad shoulders, his strong chest, and of course his V-line that is not hard to miss as he carelessly talks shit about his teachers. “See something you like?” arrogance seething from his teeth as he brushes back his blond hair. You don’t say anything as your face grows red. He takes your hand and leads you to the couch. “Come on, let’s watch something.”

ᵔᴥᵔ The sound of skin slapping drowns out the voices on the TV. You don’t even know how Armin managed to get you into this position again where you’re so submissive under him, giving into him yet again. He flips you over on your back, and he props himself up, looking over your figure that’s so pathetically displayed below him. You can see his angelic hair stick to his forehead as the sweat drips down his soft but sharp cheeks. The look in his eyes has gone dark, and his smile is sinister as if he was a predator about to devour a prey. He wickedly laughs as you grind your needy cunt against his hard cock. This is where he really gets mean.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin loves to degrade you like the whore you are, constantly reminding you just how easy you are to take advantage of, how easy you are to win over with just some dick, how easy it is to make your sloppy cunt squirt and tingle from multiple orgasms, how easy it is to make you whimper and beg for his thick cock to make a complete mess of your pussy.

ᵔᴥᵔ “You really didn’t think I invited you over just to study, did you?” he snickers as he cruelly and slowly thrusts into your aching cunt, making eye contact with you and grinning as your face turns red. He grabs your throat, choking you, and begins to thrust faster which pulls shaky moans from under your breath. He inches close to your ear and whispers, “you even came over here without wearing underwear under that short skirt of yours…” he switches to the other ear, “and when I started touching your dirty cunt during the movie, you were already so wet,” you shiver at his words. He pulls back and gives you a gentle slap with his left hand, his rings stinging your face, and uses his right hand to twist your perky nipples. He begins to laugh, “but I’m not surprised that a filthy slut like you - my filthy slut - would think of such impure thoughts during something as innocent as watching a movie.” Armin leans closer to your face again, still thrusting into you at a quick pace. His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin. He harshly grabs your mouth and tells you to open, which you submissively comply with, and he spits into your mouth which causes you to whimper. He smacks the side of your thigh. “You like being treated like some depraved slut don’t you?” You don’t reply, but the fluttering in your tight pussy says otherwise. He flips you onto your stomach, your breasts mushing into the couch, and without warning, he forces his girthy cock into your tight pussy. He is thrusting into you at an ungodly pace, making you scream and moan incoherent words. “What’s my little slut saying? Use your words, baby,” he teases. At this point, you can only call out his name. “A-armin…” He begins to torturously thrust into that one spot, and within seconds, you're bucking your hips, intensely squirting onto his couch and leaving a sopping wet dark spot. “Fucking whore, gonna have to buy a new couch because you can’t control your filthy cunt,” he growls into your ear. He quickly flips you over onto your back again, wanting to see your face. Your face is contorted with such pleasure; your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your mouth is wide open with drool dripping down your jaw. Armin shudders, his cock getting even harder in your tight pussy. “So hot… such a lewd slut.” He immediately brings out his phone, taking a picture. “Want me to show my friends what a cock-hungry whore you are?” You quickly nod. “So fucking pathetic,” he snarls. “I’m going to destroy your cunt, slut.” He shoves his warm tongue in your mouth, gently grabbing the hair on your foggy head. “I’m gonna break you in so bad,” he mumbles, wiping the tears from your face.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who maybe in fact does want to have that ‘relationship shit’ with you ~

__________________________

Requests are open, and feedback is appreciated <3

[husbandhoshi]

vernon train anon i am back hello ok ok going to whatever the nearest Big train station is with vernon and picking a number between 1 and 10 and going to that platform and getting on the next train leaving to wherever. getting off somewhere completely random, a suburb you’ve never been to before that’s just far enough outside of your understanding of the city, but close enough that you can get back home at a civil hour, to spend the day walking around stuffing yourselves full of whatever your heart and stomach desires. vernon huffs and puffs sarcastically as you drag him in out of gift shops and bakeries until the two of you eventually come across a hole in the wall record shop (that probably has a cat, and the two of you spend the better half of your time there sitting on the floor making friends with the cat and whoever is working the register). you follow each other around while you browse before one of you splits on a mission. vernon probably stumbles across a copy of a vinyl you had been wanting for a while and hides it among his stack of purchases to be (070 shake, tyler, kehlani, the internet) and you distract yourself with the cat while he pays (you didn’t want him to, but he insisted (“it doesn’t matter, because you wanna share custody of that frank record with me soooo bad.”)) slips it in between two of your selections in the bag and smiles coyly when you’re sitting against him at the train station and fawning over your picks, confused because “did you…?” he shares his (wired) headphones with you on the way home and you probably fall asleep. definitely rushes to put it on when the two of you get home and stretches himself over your bed while you go about your bedtime routine and sing to yourself. he probably sings/hums you to sleep as well. idk the idea of vernon just being quietly heart eyes makes my heart swelter i’m running out of words but he’s kind of everything to me

STOP............ i let this sit in my inbox for a little bit bc whenever i read it my brain started literally spinning

i can picture this SO well. vernon is the type of bf who likes when you take him places because normally he'd just chill at home with you (which he enjoys too!). and the record thing...that is so freaking cute :( his music taste is immaculate LOL i love the records you chose for him. and the little smile he has when he pays for another souvenir you want to pick up from one of your adventures </3

i do think vernon is the type to b quietly heart eyes for his partner! kissing the top of your head, tucking your hair behind your ear, playing your favorite music when you're around. he texts you memes and things that remind him of you, even when you're apart a few hours. and his favorite place to sleep is in your lap. he's genuinely your ride or die and you wouldn't have it any other way

[someonestolemyshoes]

Off the Record

Hello!! I am super excited to finally post my entry for @levihan-drabbles competition :D The prompt was super interesting and I had a tonne of fun writing this one! 

The prompt I received was: Hange posts a picture of Levi somewhere and it becomes a meme.

(For those curious, this is the meme I used for inspiration) 

Hange pushed her plate across the table and grinned at him. "Levi! Fancy seeing you here! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Levi's lip curled.

"You know what," he said. Hange braced her elbows on the table and rested her chin atop her knotted fingers.

"Enlighten me."

Colour rose in Levi's cheeks. For a moment, Hange felt a little guilty. For all Levi's grumbling and grunting, Hange had never seen him angry before.

"That bullshit article."

"Ah. Was there a problem?"

Hange met Moblit in a small cafe a little way down the road from the newsroom. She was in good spirits—her morning had been productive; she'd made steady headway with research for her next interview, finished the final edits for a few smaller tabloid pieces she'd been meaning to brush up, attended three short, perfunctory meetings on tedious company policy, and laid the groundwork for another exciting interview opportunity.  

She felt good. And now she had the pleasurable prospect of a hearty lunch, a passable cup of coffee, and perhaps best of all, Moblit's company. His company, and his camera.

Hange threw herself into the seat opposite Moblit the moment she spotted him, hunched over his laptop in a corner of the cafe. He lifted his coffee cup just in time for Hange to clatter against the table, the thin metal frame rattling precariously. She offered him a sheepish grin.

"Sorry," she said, and then, "got anything exciting?"

"I don't know about exciting. Interesting, maybe, but no breaking news."

Hange flagged down a passing waitress with one hand, and waved Moblit off with the other. "Doesn't matter, doesn't matter," she said, then paused to order a drink and her favourite sandwich. "Tell me anyway."

"I got a tip-off from a waiter at Sina's."

Hange's eyes sparkled behind her glasses. She sat forward in her chair, folding her arms on the table top as she leaned closer. "Who?"

"Take a guess."

Hange grinned at him. Moblit was not one to play coy; he did his job and did it well, and reported his findings efficiently. To leave her to question it meant one of two things; he had photographed someone very high profile indeed, or it was somebody Hange was, for better or for worse, well acquainted with.

Or perhaps, if she were lucky, it was both.

"Let me see him, then."

**

Hange had taken far too much time in the cafe with Moblit. He had given her a rundown of all the details he'd gathered during his field work that morning, and shown her through his extensive photo gallery. It was impressive, the kind of archive Moblit could cultivate with only a 45 minute breakfast window.

Hange had been delighted. Moblit was right; it wasn't breaking news, nothing particularly thrilling, but there was a corner of the Internet, Hange knew, that would delight in a trashy little article just like this. Something quick and simple to bulk up the social media feed for the afternoon.

Plus, there was a series of pictures Moblit had snapped, a cluster he'd thought to be of no real merit, that Hange simply could not pass up.

She could lay down no facts with a story like this one. There was no hard-hitting investigative journalism to be had, but she could at least offer some speculation based on her knowledge of the subjects involved, and spin a tale juicy enough to get people talking.

It took little time at all to put the article together. Hange scribbled up an outline for the contents—the location; Sina's in downtown Hizuru, a luxurious restaurant serving five star meals at every hour of the day. High in quality, sickeningly steep in price. The time of day; 9am. To the best of Hange's knowledge, this was rather out of character for the subject. He was an early riser, but according to their interview last March pending the premiere of his newest movie, he wasn't the type to eat much at all before lunch time.

And then, the company. Eren Yeager was a relatively well-known actor, barely an adult at nineteen. He starred in his first role a decade earlier, and had seen commercial success in multiple movies and TV shows ever since. He had been something of a prodigy in his younger years, bold and precocious, possessing a natural talent many actors years his senior couldn't even hope for. As Hange understood it, he had recently hit a rather troublesome phase. An interesting line of inquiry, but despite his talent and his fame, Eren's presence was simply a cameo, compared to the subject of the article Hange was drawing up.

Levi Ackerman.

Levi is a fan favourite and a media delight. He's attractive no doubt, and his performance in any and every role is almost always met with critical acclaim. Outside of his career, however, he's an elusive thing, silent in any matters pertaining to his private life. He avoids any public event like the plague, and rarely shows his face at premieres or award ceremonies if he can possibly avoid it. He gives interviews only when required by some contractual obligation or other, or else when the journalist in question is so painfully persistent that it is simply easier to give in than to keep fighting.

Little of his personal life is known, but it is impossible for someone in Levi's position to avoid interacting with anybody at all, and even the great Levi Ackerman is not above scrutiny.

There are rumours. Several of them, accounts from fellow cast members, from staff, from directors, and even Erwin, his manager, has alluded more than once to Levi's sour disposition. He is prone, Hange has heard, to fits of anger, and is easily disgruntled by minor inconveniences. His dislike of anything unclean or untidy is the stuff of legends—Hange has seen this first hand, at their very first interview. He had entered the room, scowled at the chair before sitting in it, and given Hange a thorough once over before announcing, with no hint of humour, "your glasses are filthy."

Hange had found him both fascinating and quite delightful, in his own strange way. When he acts, Levi sounds eloquent; he is a master of emotive performance, wringing the last drops of anger, despair, or grief out of each and every word, or else injecting the perfect giddy jitter, or a tremor of humour when the scene called for it. As soon as the cameras stop rolling, though, Levi's tone becomes flat, and without a script, his words are clumsy and crass. He communicates poorly, quick to throw insults and crude remarks. Hange has interviewed him a number of times—she counts herself very lucky that Levi will consent to her requests without too much fuss, these days—and each time she finds herself spending half of their time together translating his answers into something a) family friendly, and b) understandable to the everyday reader.

There is nothing for Hange to translate this time. Moblit managed to speak to the waiter after Levi and Eren had vacated in hopes of gleaning any small tidbit of knowledge regarding their conversation, but the venture had been hopeless. The pair had grown silent upon the approach of any staff member, and spoke in tones too hushed for anyone nearby to hear. They learned nothing they couldn't extrapolate for themselves from Moblit's pictures; Eren looked sheepish, avoiding Levi's gaze in favour of staring into his drink, while Levi—

Levi looked furious.

Every picture featured his signature frown, which, in and of itself wasn't enough to assume Levi to be in any mood besides neutral, but some of the photos show a hint of bared teeth or pursed lips, with his brows pulled lower than normal, the space between them deeply creased. Hange found herself curious as both a journalist and as an acquaintance. They may not be friends, but Hange liked to think she knew Levi a little better than most people, at least. She could find nothing in their past interactions to suggest any relationship with Eren beyond the strictly professional. They had over a decade between them, and though they had worked together on more than one set, neither party had ever said anything to insinuate so much as a friendly attitude between them.

There was no resolution to her queries to be easily found. And luckily for Hange, this particular piece didn't require any. It was a gossip article, something spicy, jam-packed with buzzwords, what-if's and more questions than answers, designed to make people wonder. Levi's name in the title would be enough to draw people in; Eren's name was an added bonus. But the star of the show was Moblit's photography. Hange arranged the images she had chosen in a grid. In context, the pictures were intriguing, depicting a particularly ferocious part of Levi and Eren's exchange. Out of context, they looked a little ridiculous. Both would bring readers onto their home page.

Satisfied with her work, Hange queued the finished article for review, and turned her attention back to her schedule.

**

The article launched mid-afternoon. Hange watched, somewhat satisfied, as it was received much as she had expected it to be. The activity on their Twitter account skyrocketed, the tweet in question garnering more likes, retweets and replies in the hour after it's post than any other they’d dropped in the last month.

Hange had allowed it to slip from her mind after the first hour or so. She received praise from her bosses, and a text from Moblit, jokingly demanding she pay him even more handsomely for his work than she already had, and her cousin had called her in the evening on a quest for insider gossip she could share with her friends, but that had been the end of it. Hange thought of it no more until early the following morning, when she had stopped by the quiet little cafe beneath her flat for breakfast and her favourite coffee.

She had been polishing off her pancakes when the bell above the door chimed. She had paid little attention to the newcomer, until a shadow passed over her table, and a familiar voice said, "Oi, shitty glasses."

Hange looked up to see Levi Ackerman himself standing over her, his face twisted in a scowl.

There are perks of being reasonably acquainted with Levi. Hange always gets to conduct his interviews, and Levi only ever turns her down if her request is unreasonable. Like that time she demanded he meet her at this very coffee shop for "just a quick piece, about the cameo you did for the new season of Titans", only to show him she'd bought a new pair of glasses—"look, all clean!"—and, when pressed, admitted there was no interview at all. He had been far more hesitant to indulge her in smaller affairs after that, but Hange was still lucky enough to be his only regular interviewer after big releases.

More interviews means more commission for Hange, and more high profile work with other celebrities. Yes, being acquainted with Levi has its bonuses.

But it also has its downsides. Namely, that Levi will not hesitate to turn up at her regular coffee shop to berate her after she has posted some complete and utter wank at his expense.

Hange pushed her plate across the table and grinned at him. "Levi! Fancy seeing you here! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Levi's lip curled.

"You know what," he said. Hange braced her elbows on the table and rested her chin atop her knotted fingers.

"Enlighten me."

Colour rose in Levi's cheeks. For a moment, Hange felt a little guilty. For all Levi's grumbling and grunting, Hange had never seen him angry before.

"That bullshit article."

"Ah. Was there a problem?"

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?"

Hange sat back in her chair and sipped at her coffee. Levi's face was full colour now, a pale pink flush from his neck right up to his hairline. Hange gave him a measured look, then kicked out the chair opposite her.

"Sit," she said. "If you have issues, I'd be happy to discuss."

Levi looked for a moment like he'd like nothing more than to strangle her. Then he pulled out the chair the rest of the way, and dropped himself into it.

"I don't give a fuck about the article," he said. "It's shitty gossip anyway."

Hange raised a brow at him. She opened her mouth to continue when, without prompt, a young waitress approached their table, practically bouncing on the spot as she stopped and gave Levi a dazzling smile. Her cheeks were flushed prettily, and Hange would have thought she were simply starstruck, if it weren't for the light of mirth in her eyes.

"Good morning, sir. Can I get you anything?" She gave Levi no chance to respond, before plowing on. "Water? Or tea, perhaps? Forgive me, but you seem a little upset. Might a nice tea calm you down?"

Levi grit his teeth. "No, thank you."

Hange almost apologised to the poor waitress on his behalf, but she didn't look bothered at all by his rudeness. In fact, she had barely turned from the table before she snorted in laughter, and caught her giggles in her hands as she scurried back behind the counter. A second passed, before all three waitresses snickered.

"That," Levi hissed, "is your fault."

Now Hange truly was confused. She furrowed her brow at him. "How does that have anything to do with me?"

"You and your stupid article," he said. Hange looked back to the waitress, who looked to their table again before falling into a fresh fit of giggles. Hange turned back to Levi, a little sympathetic.

"I think she just fancies you."

"You're trying to tell me you really don't know the mess you've caused?"

Hange shook her head slowly. Levi watched her closely, searching for proof of the lie, but Hange's earnestness must have shown through, for Levi's anger abated a little, and he slumped back on his chair.  

In lieu of a verbal explanation, Levi pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times, typed something out, and scrolled a little way, before placing the phone on the table and sliding it towards her. Hange pulled it closer with a frown.

The screen displayed Twitter, and showed the feed beneath the search for Levi's name. Hange scrolled a few posts, eyes widening little by little as she went.

Levi was right. The contents of the article were of little significance at all. The photo grid, however, had gone viral overnight.

It showed four pictures of Levi and Eren, taken in succession. Each one showed only a portion of the back of Eren's head, but Levi's expression in every frame was more animated than Hange had ever seen him outside of his movie scenes, and each was more distraught than the last. Face tight, jaw clenched, teeth bared, with his finger pointed condescendingly in Eren's face. The second last picture shows his brows arched and his lips pressed into a thin line, and the final one—

Hange had laughed at it in isolation when Moblit had shown her. She had fully expected it to garner a few laughs, but she hadn't expected a photograph of Levi furiously slurping his tea to become a meme in less than 24 hours.  

"I see," Hange said, as she calmly slid the phone back to him. "In my defense, you don't help yourself. It wouldn't be half as funny if you didn't hold your tea cup so weird."

"In my defense," Levi snapped, "If you didn't post it online nobody would have anything to laugh at."

Hange crossed her arms on the table and leaned towards him, smiling pleasantly. "In your defense, you wouldn't have been so angry in public if it weren't for whatever Eren had to say. What was that about, by the way? I'm terribly curious."

Hange expected a very Levi response to her prying; a scowl, perhaps a quick kick under the table, an 'It's none of your damn business, four-eyes', if she were lucky.

What she got instead was a haughty sniff, and a gruff, "He's fucking my cousin."

For a moment, they were silent. Either Levi's anger at his new meme status had temporarily disabled the part of his brain that blocked any mention of his private life from slipping past his lips in the wrong company, or something about Eren's indiscretion had rattled him so much, he couldn't keep silent about it. Either way, he looked increasingly surprised—and horrified—at himself for saying it out loud. Hange's eyes were wide, and Levi's were growing wider by the second. Of all the people to slip up to, he had slipped up to her. An entertainment journalist, the one person in his life who thrived on this kind of insider knowledge.

Hange swallowed. Levi was still staring at her like a deer in headlights, no doubt painfully aware that there was no taking back what he had said now.

Hange doesn't take a great deal of pride in what she does. She feels satisfied when her stories receive the reception she'd predicted, validated in her ability to analyse their consumer base and make accurate assumptions about what will hit and what won't, but the work itself feels dirty, at times. An opportunistic scavenger feeding on whatever carrion they can find, no matter how rotten it may be.

This is a perfect opportunity. Salacious details of Levi's interpersonal relationships, right from the horse's mouth. If it were anyone else, Hange would be scribbling every word verbatim in her notebook.

But this is Levi. Levi, who seems jarred by her last article (though Hange will maintain this, at least, is no real fault of her journalism, and also, absolutely hilarious) and was clearly, for whatever reason, incensed by Eren's actions.

Hange brushed her palms over her thighs, and picked a speck of lint from her trousers.

"This is nice, isn't it?" She said, "having breakfast together. We should do it more often. It feels good to just talk, sometimes. Off the record."  

Levi blinked rapidly at her. He opened his mouth, but, still too shocked by his own loose tongue to speak, he said nothing. Hange pulled her phone from her bag and fiddled around with it some, tapping here and there, until she found what she was looking for. She turned it to Levi, and said, "I think this is my favourite edit so far."

Levi finally pulled his gaze from her, and looked down at the screen. It was truly something, the way the picture snapped him out of his stunned silence. Hange had never seen someone's face pinch up so rapidly.

"Come on, it's kinda funny. And look! That's Tony Stark, right? People are so creative. And maybe, if we're really lucky, Buzzfeed will do a compilation article of all the best ways people have used your new meme."  

Levi rolled his eyes at her. It looked strange, with his face so tightly twisted. Hange chuckled at him.

She nudged his ankle beneath the table with the toe of her shoe. "Lighten up, you look constipated."

"Oi, out of the two of us I'm not the one who's full of—"

"—Full of shit, I know, I know. That honour is all mine."

They lapsed into another silence, this one marginally more comfortable than the last. Hange finished the last of her coffee and checked her emails, while Levi tortured himself some more by scrolling through his Twitter feed. After a short while, he spoke again.

"That...doesn't sound bad," he said.

"Hm?"

"What you said about talking more. Off the record. It doesn't sound bad."

It was Hange's turn to flush. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she occupied herself by rifling through her bag in search of nothing.

"Yeah?" Her voice, an octave higher than usual, cracked around the vowels. She cleared her throat, "will you have more gossip for me? It's almost painful that I can't share it, you know."

"Good. I'll share as many secrets as I've got, if it'll bother you that much."

"Sounds terrible," Hange said. She tore a clean corner off her napkin and scribbled her personal number onto it. She slid it over the table to him. "Text me."

Levi pulled a face at the piece of napkin. "Is that used? Gross, shitty four-eyes." He pocketed it anyway.

Hange didn't know what else to say. Levi didn't seem to either, and so he stood, and tucked his chair back in. Hange turned her eyes down to her empty plate. Her stomach and chest felt strange, almost sickly, but in an oddly pleasant way.

Levi rapped his knuckles on the table. Hange jumped, startled, and looked up at the sound.

"This part is on the record," he said. The corner of Levi's mouth quirked into a small, barely there grin. "I heard from a reliable source that Eren was so scared on the set of Last War that he pissed his pants. Twice."

[magicianapprenticelyra]

Actor AU: Season 1 [Nadia Satrinava]

Credit for the basis of the AU goes to both @lightvsdark18 and @lynmay-arcana.

[Original Link] | [Additional Link]

Nadia Satrinava—Behind the Scenes & On Set Happenings/Shenanigans

[Of all the routes, Nadia’s is the one with the decent balance of showing off how all of the Main 6 would interact with one another. What better way to start off the show?]

A lot of nerves ran high when production started. No one knew for sure if this show would work, much less be approved for the proposed six seasons.

[More under the cut!]

In no particular order, here’s how the filming of this season went:

Getting Nadia into her wig and makeup initially took almost an hour, but they got it down to the range of 30-45 minutes.

Her Devil wig, makeup, and prosthetics took a little longer, but considering that that ending is shorter than the Upright, it wasn’t too bad.

Wriggler was part CGI, part mechanized puppet.

The actress herself, and Lyra, were more amused by it initially than terrified, which helped things move along.

Nadia spent several months bonding with the owl that would become the basis for Chandra for the rest of the show’s run.

To get the fantastical coloring right for Chandra and the cheetah from The Red Market, there would be some CGI involved.

Julian got stuck in the wires that hung him upside-down during the Masquerade, so it took a bit in getting him down.

It seems to be a curse throughout the show that Julian gets stuck in rope-like things.

Meme or fanservice? Why not both?

When Asra enters the shop and sees Nadia and MC together, their surprise was genuine.

Asra technically wasn’t scheduled to be on set that day, but in order to have Nadia and Lyra be genuinely surprised he was there, it was done.

The scene in whether or not MC and Nadia were upfront with Portia—or played that mind-game—in order for her to reveal that she did invite Nasmira to the Masquerade was so emotional that there wasn’t a dry eye in the area.

Lyra, Nadia and Portia all hugged it out after the director called cut. 

A lot of set-based accidents would happen.

A majority of it would have been Lyra, or fellow cast members, being a bit overzealous in grabbing/holding onto something, only for it to snap under their weight/grip strength.

There were a few times that the lights for the set would blow out, but no one could ever find the root cause.

There are three versions of the scene in whether or not Lucio’s portrait gets burned by MC.

There was the one where Lyra suggested that MC set it on fire on accident rather than purposefully. She didn’t agree with the writers in MC burning it in retaliation to Lucio’s comments toward them.

Never got filmed.

There was the one that MC actually sets the portrait on fire, as seen with the paid scene in-game.

The third and final version released on tv/in the official DVD release is the one where MC leaves it alone, though the other two versions are mentioned/shown under the Bonus Features.

Nadia and Lyra trained together to horseback ride with Muriel’s help and other instructors.

There was an instance where the horse for Lysinger almost stomped on Lyra after bucking her off, but Muriel and Nadia saved her.

He grabbed the reins with other handlers while Nadia swooped in and carried her out of harms away.

The shoot for that day was cut short because Lyra was too rattled.

After that, Lyra stuck with Paloma from then on.

Appleberry was very nice, but Lyra was too big for him to handle.

There are very many pictures/videos both online and in the Bonus Features section showing Lyra just hanging out with Appleberry on and off set.

Nadia didn’t spend much time with the actors representing the rest of the Satrinava family, while in turn they did with each other.

It gave a better feel for how estranged Nadia was from them, but they all remained in relative, consistent contact after the show was over.

When Lyra first did the hand motions in casting ‘magic’, she looked so silly that it sent Nadia into fits of laughter the first few times.

“She was very adorable,” Nadia said during an interview. “How could you not love how she pictures things?”

The scene where Asra kisses Muriel in the ballroom made Lyra squeal just loud/high pitched enough to short out her mic.

No one knows how she managed that/it may have been a mic that was on its last leg anyway.

Some time ago, the actor for Valerius and Nadia once acted opposite to each other in a courtroom drama.

The scene where Valerius breaks his wineglass and cuts his hand open was an accident, but he kept going until he was taken away by the guards.

Once the director called cut, first aid was immediately administered.

Lyra was actually terrified upon seeing the half demon form that Valerius takes on toward the end of the season.

Bonus Features shows that B-cut footage of Lyra booking down the hall after spotting Valerius in the dark room they had him in.

“I felt so bad—she looked so terrified!” Valerius shakes his head in an interview.

After a bit of calming down of course, the shoot continued.

Nadia spent a lot of time with the Courtiers in their full makeup, so she wasn’t fazed by their appearance while Lyra/MC were unsettled by their looks.

Volta and Lyra maintain contact with each other long after the show is over.

Vlastomil gets asked to do his WRIGGLERRRRRR shout at conventions a lot.

Valdemar was an actor that almost did nothing but act in media relating to the horror/thriller genre, so their role as Valdemar was very, very well done.

“I still get nightmares from how they moved.” Lyra would says, shivering. “But! That means they’re doing their job well, so good on them!” [imagine her voice getting squeaky at this point].

Vulgora was a bit of a wildcard cast, but they bounced off of everyone reacting to their loud outbursts.

This led to a lot of people losing their composure because they were so funny, but they got the job done in the end.

A few scenes that hit the cutting room floor are as follows:

Nadia training MC to fence.

[Nadia and MC making a pillow fort together in her room].

The hints of MC’s family still being around in Vesuvia.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this as I had with writing it!

Next: [Asra Alnazar]