#Yeah I guess artist can be added

[cooingcrow]

Update!

In a way better mood than the last time I posted. I’m experimenting with a few new techniques to manage myself and my adhd. It’s working for the most part but it’s requiring me to also balance other parts of myself I’ve let take the wheel in my life. So anyways, what have I been up to since the last post?  Drawing. Mostly drawing. I have a harpy oc I’ve been trying to piece out for myself and while it was originally supposed to just be a fun avatar or sorts for me, it’s helping me world build a much larger story I’ve been dying to tell. I forgot about the thrill that comes from getting your hands dirty and experimenting with designs. Example, there are quite a few ways to draw a harpy and there are a number of them that I just want to see in the world itself, so it becomes a question of how do you work the different designs in?

Suddenly you’re coming up with different subspecies, where the branching points matter in the world building, how they fit in with what you’ve already come up with and by sheer accident, figuring out some more hard rules for the magic system you’ve been trying to put in place. I didn’t get all that when I commissioned the original design, so I’m appreciating my new outlook on how hands on I’ve become to the design. 

It’s still going to be some time before I can start writing though. The world that I’m building is thankfully a shared world between some of the SFW and the NSFW projects I wanted to tackle, but these are also such big stories that I wanted to ease into them with smaller works first. I haven’t quite figured out how I’m doing that yet, but maybe that will also become more clear when I draw some more.

I have a good system going for me right now. On the weekdays at work I draw on sticky notes doing little exercises I’ve found in an artbook I like. Sometimes I do freestyle stuff as well. When the weekend hits, I have a dedicated amount of time to draw more intensely without interruption or I’ll do some research on some techniques and after a lunch break I’ll swing back and put what I’ve learned into practice. Either way, I’m having fun with it and that’s all that matters. I recently purchased some new pens and some markers to add a bit more to my sketches. Hopefully I’ll be ready for digital down the line.

[hannieehaee]

BITE (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: keeping appearances as an idol was already hard enough, but it becomes even worse upon finding a forlorn jeonghan with need of assistance with the company's faulty security system, instantly becoming endeared with the idol who refused to take no for an answer — not that you'd ever want him to.

content: idol!jeonghan x hybeidol!reader, f2l, meet-cute, very unrealistic schedules for idols lol, jeonghan is a menace, a lot of will they wont they, reader plays hard to get, small age gap implied, afab reader, one mention of the word oppa as a honorific (sorry</3), reader is implied to be international (no specific race, just not born in korea), smut, dry humping, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.9k (teaser); 11.7k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: september 6th

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: wrote this super quickly so it might be a little messy but i really love idol aus so yeah hope u enjoy<3

masterlist

support me through a one time tip<3

"Hey, is that Yoon Jeonghan from Seventeen?", asked Minji as she patted your shoulder, finger pointing towards your right.

"Who?", you wondered, attempting to make sense of the distressed man standing in front of the main artist elevators in the building, "Oh, yeah, I think that's him," you said once you spotted his face, deeming it impossible to not recognize a face such as his.

"Why is he just standing there?", she wondered, holding onto your arm in the affectionate manner she usually did, "Do you think it's that elevator thing again?" she faced you to ask.

"What elevator thing?"

"Apparently he went on a variety show and complained about the company's security system. It was a whole controversy, but I guess the facial recognition doesn't work for him for some reason," she informed you before chuckling at the sight of Jeonghan sighing in defeat at yet another failed attempt at utilizing the aforementioned system, "I thought it was a bit, but I guess he was for real."

"Huh," you hummed, having been unaware of the issue. The system worked just fine for you and all your members, so you never had any motive to question it. Your senior, however, had clear issues with the system. Within the two minutes you had noticed his presence, he had already attempted the facial recognition three times, getting rejected every single one of them.

"You should help him," your groupmate suggested, "I would, but my manager will be here soon for my shoot. You only have rehearsals today, right? You're heading that way anyway."

"What? No!" you declined, "I always get anxious around our seniors. I've never even met him," you added, far too shy to even face the pretty boy during his predicament.

Disconnecting from you, she grabbed onto your shoulders, scolding you, "Dude, just go help him! This is how you make connections. You give him a hand and then he gives you one back," she said, physically turning you around so you could face his direction, hands still on your shoulders, "Go! My ride's probably already here anyways. Good luck," she encouraged as she pushed you forward, making you absentmindedly begin walking towards the boy.

Taking a breath, you began to walk towards the boy who seemed to grow more and more frustrated at the faulty security system. The closer you got, the more you could hear his whines in complaint. It appeared that he had taken up a phone call during the time you'd been talking to your friend, frustratedly arguing with whoever was on the other line.

"Seokminnie, c'mon! Just come down! I'll buy you soju after practice," he whined, groaning at whatever response his groupmate had given him in return, "My manager already left ... Yeah .... No! Stop! Just come down! I'm your senior and- Wait! Don't hang up!", he groaned at last upon hearing the classic sound of a disconnected line invade his ears.

It was only then that he seemed to notice your presence, widening his eyes momentarily before offering you a brief bow to acknowledge your presence. Moving aside, he gave you enough space to stand in front of the elevator, quietly awaiting for you to utilize the security system, likely assuming you had not heard his prior predicament. He gestured for you to move forward, acting as if he were being a gentleman in allowing you to go first.

You approached the small facial recognition screen, about to scan your face before turning to him, finding the boy staring at you expectantly, "You need me in order to use the elevator, don't you?", you asked him, amused.

"Huh?", he gaped at you, tsk'ing afterward and making an odd 'Eyyy' sound, "I'm just being a gentleman. Go ahead," he gave you a tight yet amused smile.

You chuckled in return, "Liar," you were surprised at how easy it was to be informal with him, but he was immediately likable, "Ask me to help you and maybe I might," you added, giving him a satisfied smile.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I'm your senior — Whatever happened to respect?", he joked, tsk'ing at you once more. He proceeded to walk towards you, pushing his face onto the scanner and ignoring your presence altogether, "I'll do it, see," he practically challenged, attempting the scanner once more.

Unsurprisingly, he was met with a red X and a beeping sound that indicated yet another failure to be recognized by the system. This caused him to stand there in silence for a few seconds before whining 'Yah!' and cursing out the security system.

Clearing his throat, he straightened up again, facing you once more, "Sorry about that. Your turn," he gestured to you to move forward again, stepping out of your way.

Both amused and surprised, you decided to finally utilize the scanner on yourself, smiling at him with a satisfied look when it immediately allowed you in. Turning to him, you nodded at him to get in before you, only for him to gesture for you to go first. Something about 'ladies first.'

"You owe me one," you said once you were both in the elevator again, standing side by side as you faced the closing door.

"Nuh-uh. This was just a coincidence. You needed to head upstairs anyways," he rebutted petulantly.

"Yeah? So you don't need me to help you get to your floor, then, right?", you questioned mockingly, knowing he would also have to work the scanner in order to get the door to open to Seventeen's designated floor. There were far too many steps to get to the artists' floors, but it made sense to you by now.

Upon the realization, he groaned, letting himself throw his head back against the wall behind him as he earned a giggle from you. He frowned in your direction at your laugh, though he joined you with a chuckle just mere seconds later.

"Okay, fine. I owe you," he gave up, still leaning against the wall behind but turning his head to look at you, "What can Yoon Jeonghan do for you?"

You pretended to mull over it for a few seconds, finger on your chin as you thought it over, "I have no idea. I'll let you know," you finally responded, "Okay, so, what floor?", you asked as your finger moved to the buttons on the elevator door.

"13th," he responded, now casually leaning back against the wall.

"Oh? The second highest floor. You're an important man, aren't you?", you teased, pressing his button before moving onto your group's number 9.

"Nine?," he gaped, "Seems I'm higher on the company hierarchy than you, yet you show me no respect," he joked back.

"Shut up. I'm going out of my way for you. Senior or not, you owe me. Those are the rules of all civilized society," you argued back.

"Okay, how about," he began, pressing his hands together as if making a proposition, "I see you downstairs every morning bright and early with a fresh cup of coffee in exchange for your face — y'know, for the scanner. How's that sound?", he proposed, a pleased smile on his face at your agape mouth.

"Every morning? Do you not have any friends?", you asked as the elevator continued to move up.

"Do you see anyone here? They all get here before me. You seem pretty friendless. C'mon. Free coffee, good company. I'll even play one of your group's songs in my next Welive. See? Can't get any better than that," he continued to sell his idea as the elevator came to a stop, now at his floor but demanding yet another facial scan to even exit the elevator.

"God, the security's too much," he groaned upon noticing the prompt on the small screen inside the elevator, "C'mon!", he turned to you, "Try to tell me that's not unnecessary."

You gave up, nodding as you chuckled, though not making a move to scan your face.

"Say yes. Please," he dragged the e for an annoyingly long amount of time, grinning when you rolled your eyes but laughed, "I'll keep going. Just agree. What better way to spend your time than with Yoon Jeonghan?"

"What makes you think I even knew that name before today?", you challenged.

"You do. Don't lie to me, it won't work," he smirked back before going back to being annoying again, "Come on-"

"Fine! I'll meet you downstairs every morning expecting a fresh matcha in hand — I don't drink coffee. But you still owe me," you agreed, extending your hand to him to solidify the agreement.

"No coffee? Ew. But okay, deal," he returned your handshake, holding onto your hand for an annoying amount of time, pretending as if he were unaware of when to let go and waiting for you to pull his hand off yours with another eye roll. He chuckled any time he managed to get a reaction out of you, leading you to realize he must be an absolute menace to every person he comes across. Sadly, he was charmingly entertaining, leaving you with no complaints.

Finally, you scanned your face on the screen, letting him walk in front of you to head out. Before the elevator doors could close and separate again, he held his arm out to stop them, nodding towards you.

"What's your name? I like you," he said plainly, head tilted in curiosity.

"Y/N," you said, "Please don't introduce yourself again-"

"Yoon Jeonghan," he interrupted anyways, "Remember that. We'll be having fun in the near future," were his last words before removing his hand and allowing the elevator doors to separate you, likely heading over to his groupmates upon leaving your line of sight.

Silver doors closed in front of you, now leaving you to your own company. Dumbfounded yet amused by the interaction, you stood there as you waited for the elevator to arrive to your floor, robotically scanning your face on the door once you made it there and exiting the square-shaped room upon arrival. There, you stood with the remnant of a shocked smile on your face, surprised at how easy it had been to put any concept of age or seniority aside when interacting with Yoon Jeonghan. While you always had the tendency of being overly formal with your seniors, you had spoken to Jeonghan like you would any guy your age, disregarding formalities as soon as he'd spoken to you.

You didn't truly need any convincing to agree to see him again. On the contrary, had he not suggested as such, you would've remained with an itch to find a reason for a re-encounter. Like any other junior idol at a company with big names such as BTS and Seventeen, developing a slight crush on your seniors was the normalcy — your groupmates Minji and Lila had crushes on BTS' V and Seventeen's Vernon, respectively — and it appeared that you were now joining them in the list of girls with unrequited crushes.

Jeonghan was, what, maybe five or so years older than you? The age difference alone was enough for you to chalk this up to a mindless crush. That, and the kindergarten teacher voice he had put on while speaking to you — clearly he made a very obvious distinction about your age difference right off the bat.

As of now, all you could do was hope to see him again (which, thankfully, you would) and retain the fun back and forth he'd welcomed you in on. Friendzone was one thing, but junior-zone? At least you now had a story to let your members in on next dance practice.

...

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[the-ancient-dragons]

Welcome back to Overcomplicating the Pyrrhian Tribes! This week: the beloved RainWings!!

You know what's up. Joy Ang and Tui are so cool and I am just me.

Details and explanation below!

Otherwise, next week are the chilly IceWings! See you then!!!

More overcomplicated dragons.

I knew the RainWings would be really important, and I think they turned out the best of all the ones I've done. I think they're my favourite because they are basically the perfect mix of extra realism spice without altering Joy's design too much. The SkyWing design is awesome and I love it to bits, but it is one of the two that are the farthest from canon.

As for the RainWing.... I had. So. Much. FUN. I heavily used chameleons and snakes - they're basically the two main species on my research board - but there is a dash of cuttlefish and frilled lizard in there. Where, you ask? Well if you look closely, all over the RainWing are little tiny flecks of darker colour. I found a beautiful reference of a close-up on a cuttlefish eye. Its skin is dotted in thousands of little marks and I thought that would be perfect for the RainWing, who can camouflage just as well as them. I don't know if it's been discussed in canon but I bet they could animate their scales more than just colour shifting - cuttlefish are known for using their rapidly shifting patterns to hypnotize prey. RainWings could do it too, sort of like Ka from Disney's 2D animated Jungle Book.

Speaking of Ka - snakes. I love snakes. The head structure of the RainWing here is very smooth and rounded with muscles based on snakes like the python. I was even going to originally draw them in a venom striking pose and got as far as completing the lineart, but ultimately decided it wouldn't fit the calm portraits of the other tribes.

Will you see it in the future? Hell yeah! Pure, unhinged, magical death spit. Looking at it now I might try to alter it to be a full piece of Glory attacking Scarlet or Crocodile.

In the striking pose you can see the frills much better, but I still took my time on this serene pose (this is where the frilled lizard influence comes in). If you notice that I've drawn every scale (every single scale) then, yes, I am insane. If you didn't know that yet, you know it now. You have to draw guide lines and follow them meticulously while you wonder why you don't make a scale brush, and then cry because you know the randomness and imperfections that come from drawing a thousand circles is how it looks natural. The eye area is actually my favourite part, since drawing dragon eyelids was the original inspiration for doing this. Did I mention that? I wanted to draw eyelids.

EYELIDS.

I digress. Besides the eyelids, I like the frills on the action pose, but this pose is where I like the body scales more. When zooming in on my chameleon colour refs, I noticed the very rhythmical distribution of their scales and figured I would give it a try. They actually do have extra large circular scales along their bodies, which is where I guess the canon RainWing design gets it from. Very clever, Joy!

Anyway, on this version, those small circular scales appear on the face. Not only that, but I added a bit of influence from the snouts of my ref chameleons by extending the nose bridges to wrap around the nose horn. They blend in so seamlessly and that's the reason why I love this design - it's subtle, barely there, mostly Joy but a little extra.

Wow, I talk too much. If you're here, thank you! It's not mandatory to read, but very appreciated. I heard once that visitors at an art gallery look at each piece an average of 2-3 seconds. Or was it 3-6? Idk, but it was shockingly short, and ever since then I've tried to encourage myself to pay more respect to other artists and glean their work for little details I skip after that quick glance. I could talk so much more about these designs but that would be like an hour long video, each, lol. If you have questions about anything, ask away!

[packsvlog]

⋆ ˚ ཐིiཋྀ ˚ ⋆ 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ── ✎ ₊· 𝗷𝗷𝗸

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in desperate need of a skin, you, a talented beginner tattoo artist, decides to test your partner and his love for you in a comical way — “ can i tattoo you ? ’’

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i’ve been drawing for a couple of days now, and this is inspired by my sibling ( a tattoo artist ) and their influence on me, cause i too wish i could tattoo myself whenever i’m bored. ALSO i know we all see geto as tough but i had to!! and nanami surprised even me but the vision is visioning, you can not deny. I KNOW you can’t do many tattoos in one setting but please it’s just for plot. divider by: @cafekitsune

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: fluff / crackfic / smau with writing / reader has no gender / english is not my first language / there is mistakes because the app beat my ass sowwy / mentions of needles and pain / foul language / suggestive theme and horny police for nanami

✶ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo ﾉ geto ﾉ nanami

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

Satoru is sitting in your chair, ankles fully on display for you, but you’re actually occupied with keeping everything sanitized in the makeshift space of your boyfriend’s spacious room. He is laughing and acting tough until he hears the buzz of the machine, then he stops and gulps.

“Shit, sweets. Don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“It’s too late.” You answer with a devilish smirk, before laughing and putting the pen down. “It’s okay if you don’t want anymore, no pressure.”

Maybe it’s the combo of your puppy eyes with small pout, but Gojo falls for your antics and let you have your way in his skin, it’s takes just a few minutes before you end the drawing of the little ants crawling his ankles. He, obviously, has the limitless off, and that scares him a bit — to feel pain, see dots of his blood. But when he looks at your concentrated face, pain dissolves, and he is happy to have something permanently his made by you, his only love.

By the end, though, he grins at you and asks for another one, bigger, blue! And you make the design and ink him again, before realizing you did not gave him the Suguru cat, but you fall for his dragon. Bitch.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

Geto can see black dots in his vision when he lays belly down on the bed. He is a tough guy, been through stuff you have only an ideia about. You could guess by the minimal details and the fucking huge scar on his chest, he has been deeply cut by something. Still, he is scared of the needle you are holding.

But here he is, presenting his blank large and sexy back to you, making you rethink of doing another thing instead of the tattoo, but you have your opportunity and need to grab it.

“My love, are you ready?” You voice has the buzzing sound of the machine in the background, Suguru groans at that.

“Please, beat me to sleep.” It’s all he says before you touch his face. Before you can say anything, he talks again. “I’m fine, I think. I trust you a lot, baby.”

Suguru soon learns how soft and weightless your hand feels, because although something is burning in his back, he thinks is just you rubbing alcohol — that is until he wonders why are you rubbing alcohol for twenty straight minutes now, and then he shifts his face a bit to stare at you. He almost passed out again when he realized the tattoo is already in progress, but he is fine, and simply goes back to his original head position, before deciding to sleep.

Suguru wakes up hours later with this intricate tattoo on his upper back, he smiles and flexes his muscles on the mirror before staring at you, seeing you googling him. Yeah, if you keep looking at him like that and your hands feeling like feather, he may enjoy this whole thing — he does! By the end of the year, his whole torso is designed by you.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

Nanami presented you what could be called a slideshow of tattoos he would like to have. Basically he made a pinterest board and added you to put the tattoos you would think he look nice with (basically all you’ve seen).

By saturday, he is wearing a white shirt, showcasing his big arm’s muscles, you get occupied with a little thing before you even start to prepare the living room. Now, he has no shirt anymore.

“So, what did you choose for me, love?” His soothing voice asks you, he is sitting by your dinner table and you smile at him, showing your tablet with the many arts you made based on what both he and you liked.

“Now you pick one and we start.”

“Can I have all of them?” Oh.. “I like the art, you are so talented, love. Let me be your canvas, do what you want.” Yeah, you get occupied again in the day.

It’s nighttime when you crack your bones and look at both of your boyfriend’s arm, all inked up. He stares at you normally, no pain, no heavy breathing. He really was a punk in high school.

“So, since we already did all 12, can we finish the chest as well? I think legs would be nice too, or neck… I can have neck tattoos now!” Nanami says with a energetic voice when both of you are eating pasta later.

“Damn baby, you are getting addicted.” You sit on his lap, eyes focused on the ink all over him. “Yeah, we can do all that.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Drawing each other (Slasher edition)

help im getting good ideas for writing but idk what fandoms to write it for so uhuh... i guess writing for the mains ones i write for! woo yeah! characters: jason voorhees, brahms heelshire, bubba sawyer, thomas hewitt, Michael myers notes: reader is GN, admin did a coin clip on whether or not the reader is an artist cws: none

JASON

sometimes sitting in the cabin all day can get a little boring, you were the one who brought up the idea of drawing each other

neither of you are particularly good at drawing but that doesnt mean the two of you arent going to have fun

hes a little embarrassed to show you his drawing of you, hes hesitant to turn the paper around to show you

you didnt have much access to many drawing supplies, a lot of what you already had was crayons and colored pencils stolen from the camp, as well as the paper

he doesnt care if the drawing doesnt look the best, hes in love with just about anything you do or anything that has to do with you

he keeps the drawing folded up and tucked in his shirt pocket!

BRAHMS

hes actually pretty decent at drawing, using that to spend his time when hes not watching you from the cracks in the walls

on top of that hes pretty confident in his ability

you, on the other hand.... i dont think he would make fun of your work, but its clear that theres only one artist between the two of you

keeps the drawing you make of him in his little hiding place in the walls

takes a long minute to look at your drawing of him, its hard to read what hes thinking in that moment

more than proud of his drawing of you, you likely have to remind him to hurry up.. hes going to spend a lot of time on it

will expect a compliment for his work- and dont think he wont compliment your work either!

MICHEAL

you got the idea while doodling random stuff in your sketchbook, deciding to take this as a moment to do something together

he doesnt get it at first but hes... probably... not going to just walk away from you

a decent artist himself, he doesnt draw often but its clear he knows some of the basics of art

very quiet while the two of you draw but its nothing new

exchanging your drawings goes without a hitch, and hes sitting there looking at your paper for a long moment... he doesnt give much of a reaction... but you do notice him tucking the paper into one of his pockets

he doesnt care if you keep his drawing or not, however you sometimes find him looking at his art if you display it somewhere

BUBBA

hes not very good at drawing, he never really gets the time to sit down and doodle- on top of that he doesnt know what to draw most of time, when he does have the time and thought to try!

loves anything you make, you dont have to be a good artist either, hes going to take in every little detail of the art

is this how you see him?

if youve added additional stuff such as sparkles or hearts, hes going to be staring even longer... thats so sweet, you like like him?

of course he already knew you did, youre both dating but seeing stuff like that in passing always feels nice

very protective of the drawing out of fear that his brothers may tamper or destroy it- at best they (namely nubbins and choptop) may tease him

THOMAS

like his original counterpart, thomas doesnt draw all that often so he hasnt built up the skill... but that doesnt mean he isnt going to try to draw you how he sees you when you sit him down to do this activity with him

takes a long time to get all the details right, doesnt want to make you look off or worse, offend you if he messes something up

you can draw him with or without his mask, but its clear that you put care into the drawing, regardless of skill

loves it so much, hangs it on the wall in the basement so he can look at it while hes working... its like a little motivational thing for him! he protects his family, and youre part of it.. he does this for you!

a little hesitant to give you his drawing, but lightens up at your delight for how he portrayed you

[erebus0dora]

ok so i promised you a rant on Eric Bogosian, and i pinky promise i'll try to keep the story short (those beautiful people i've already privately spewed my fascination at deserve peace and love 💜)

TL;DR: Eric Bogosian is a good researcher and judge of human nature, which honestly shouldn't be surprising given his experience, links below

it is easy to google Eric (i'll call him that not out of disrespect, it's just shorter) and get to a conclusion he's just a slightly awkward old man who had extremely weird youth and gives off a powerful bi vibe just for shits and giggles; which is fair, given the wild way he handles most interviews

but hear me out, i'm not an expert, i'm just a book kind of girl. so i sought out the books, and into the books i looked.

back in 1988 he was nominated for Pulitzer's for his "Talk Radio", and i count that as one of the first cases of him using a real story to weave a (semi)fictional one. it is a powerful play, and a gut-punching movie, but I am mentioning it not because of its ehhh artistic value. in my book, it's a proof of the way he tends to critically re-imagine the things he sees and analyses.

keep that in mind when you google his "Operation 'Nemesis".

he initially started looking into the history of Armenian genocide as into the material worth developing into a plot for a movie. but, in his own words, and i quote, "I wrote this book because I had no choice. The Nemesis story required more attention than a simple screenplay."

he is still not a scientist, mind that - and his book reads as a work of fiction. say, there's no way one can look into the head of a deceased person and know their feelings, but one can guess; and Eric guesses, of course. but the fun part is that he makes educated guesses. nearly for each presumption there's a source. a footnote. a quote.

what really strikes me is that he looked into ONE plot line and fished out a complex slice of history, dripping with CONTEXT. White Russian emigration? it's in there. early stages of oil industry? check. the colourful background of Europe in early XX century? all there.

there's no wonder he spent seven years on this book.

i repeat: SEVEN. YEARS.

call me sapiosexual, but that was the moment when i stopped and thought: ok, THIS IS HOT.

what also impresses me is the way he speaks of his past. he admits he's done wild shit, and adds that the best part was the moment he understood he didn't need to be high to be creative. it's the underlying power of "yeah, been there, got better, SO CAN YOU" that gets me.

to keep things short, i'm adding links:

here's a vid where he speaks of the book on Armenian genocide (i had personal reasons to tear up a bit while listening, ngl)

and here's a vid where he speaks of acting, writing, and improv, that basically broke my art block, for which i am going to be grateful for fucking ever, i guess

(if you got to this point of my rant, you deserve a hug and a respectful kiss on the mouth if you're ok with that. go have a lovely day 💜)

[carmenized-onions]

Doing Too Much. | House Call

logline; Appliances can reach their breaking point, when you push them too far. Same goes for people.

[!!!] series history, this is the sixth; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth

[New Thing!!] Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin' added to.

portion; 4.8k

possible allergies; eatin' meat, besides that, we're pretty good actually. did somebody say calm before the storm....?

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns, but girl is said a couple times, i believe.)

After this chapter, I'm entering my era of couch hopping as I move to a new city n start a new job. I'm really excited for the chapter after this one, so hopefully I actually get time to write it-- But that's just my lil warning if you're left rereading for like two weeks </3 But I'll def be stalking my activity/inbox so please do yap to me

Monday morning. The next morning after everything. Well, closer to noon than morning, at this point. You’re supposed to have, what, a work ethic this week? After the most insane weekend of your life? No. You’re lazing around and doing fuck all. No matter who calls. Well… Not completely no matter, but like, most people.

When you check your phone, you’ve gotten a text at 6:43 A.M. Unknown number. Ah. Carmen. You put him in as Carmy, and put his nickname as ‘Mister New York’. Listen, old nicknames Mikey ingrained in your brain die hard.

It’s a simple text, deeply un-romantic.

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

Then, four lines of four perfect categories. Flawless. Purple first, even. The hardest category. And then,

‘Morning’

Stupid. Incredibly stupid, to be enamoured, by this. You reply,

‘Good morning!’

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

And then a failed jumble of coloured squares, you get one out of four categories. What the fuck is 'dogleg' and since when has it meant taking a sharp turn? You follow that up with,

‘Fuck you.’

Aside from Carmen, you’ve actually gotten texts from a couple people. Your boss at Eden’s asking if you’re alright. What the fuck did Cicero say? Oh well. You tell him you’ve ‘been better, been worse. Will be okay by next week.’ Perfectly vague, and you still get wired your cheque and tip out. Alright, maybe Uncle J does deserve your free labour.

Speaking of, the next text on your itinerary is from Uncle J, just info for the winter nuptials of Vinnie and Mira. Oh yeah. Three-hundred guests, you remember that part. You also remember him saying it’d be an ‘easy gig’… He did not mention you’d be the only bartender. This is going to be a nightmare. Oh well. You text back that despite it being an open bar you get to put out a tip jar. He just reacts to it, ‘haha’. That sounds like a yes to you.

And then, adorably, a selfie from Syd, wearing the collar and pins you’ve gifted her, under a green sweater. Cutie. You hype her up accordingly.

Besides some texting though, Monday is relatively unbusy. No calls. No emergencies. No businesses knocking down your door for your services. You’re thankful for a break, letting the inertia set in, finally being able to relax after fix after fix after—

Tuesday comes, you get sent another perfect round of New York Time’s Connections around half past six in the morning, along with a good morning text. And again, you fuck it up. You send him your Wordle results this time, as an act of rebellion. You then ask,

‘How’s reworking the menu going?’

‘Hard to say’

‘Ask me tomorrow’

God he’s an awful texter. Horrifically dry. You know you’re down bad beyond a belief when you find that endearing. You spend Tuesday drowning and pruning your plants after depriving them for so long.

Plus working on your art piece for Carmy. You’re pulling out old film photos, a canvas, and a load of bleach—It’s like high school art class all over again— Surprise surprise, the handyman who loves to up-cycle is a mixed media artist. Who could’ve guessed?

While trimming a photo, an exterior of The Beef, a picture frame on your wall falls down behind you, you tut, turning your head to it, chastising the air. “Mikey! It’s a copy, relax! I’ve still got the original print…”

There’s every chance you’re insane— No, you’re definitely insane. But you’re allowed to be, your best friend died, you’re allowed to talk to the air as if he’s still around. Sometimes the timing of doors swinging open for you and things falling down are just too uncanny to not be a ghost.

Wednesday arrives, and again, just after 6:40, Connections results. And the Wordle, this time; plus a ‘Good Morning’. It looks like this is simply just your thing, now. Every morning, the second both of you get up, you send each other puzzles and wish a good morning. You don’t mind that. It’s nice to have a ‘thing’, with someone. With Carmen.

Part way through the day, around two o’clock, you get another text. Two, actually. From Carmen, in quick succession.

‘Are you busy?’

‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. Can call Fak’

You’re quick to reply, frankly deeply offended.

‘Are you fucking firing me????’

‘I’m gonna get ready. Text me details’

While getting dressed, you watch three dots bubble, bubble, bubble… He’s taking forever, just don’t look at it, you’ll get anxious for no reason. No jumpsuit today, you’ve got to switch it up every now and again. Navy cargo pants with the perfect number of pockets and zippers, and an orange Chicago’s Kindest shirt, tucked in. Hm. Looking in the mirror, hickey is still there. Lighter, but there. Foundation? No. You’ll sweat it off and that’ll just bring up more questions. If Syd asks you’ll just tell her you fell down the stairs… On your neck. She's not the type to confront anything remotely sexual anyways.

Speaking of Syd, before Carmen can text you back, she calls you, which is fair— Don’t leave a Carmen to communicate. You stick your phone in the crux of your neck and answer while you pack your utility belt. This feels nearly nostalgic. “What’s fucked?”

Carmen is in the background; you can hear the tail end of a sentence, grumbling. “—Don’t call—”

“My life.” She responds without missing a beat. “And also, Carmy’s stove and oven.”

“Oh.” You squint. “What the fuck happened?”

“Overuse? I actually don’t fucking know, it just stopped working. We plugged it in and out— He even reset his apartment’s breakers. I dunno what’s wrong with it. It’s probably got something to do with him putting his fuckin’ jeans in there.”

“…He what?”

You can hear him in the background, again, clearer this time, grimacing, “What are you doing to me?”

Syd does not mind him at all, continuing, “I know! He’s fucking weird!”

“He’s extremely weird.” You like him a lot. “I’ll be over soon, were you guys like, mid-cooking?”

“Yessir.”

“Christ, alright… I think I have a dual burner hot plate laying around somewhere, you want me to bring it—”

They both speak clearly this time, together, “Please.”

You’ve got a pile of things to give to them anyways, and maybe you miss Carmy’s face. Just a little.

Instead of just buzzing you in, Carmy comes down for you. When he sees you through the door window, carrying a cardboard box, he almost breaks into a full run. He’s somehow opening the door, grabbing the box from your hands, and chastising you all at the same time. “You should’ve left it in the car, I would’ve—”

You step in through the entryway and kiss his cheek, cutting him short. You can’t help yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen him since and you feel like a giddy teen. The teenage girl in your head is no longer just in your head, she’s fully manning the station. “You’re very sweet. But it’s also not heavy.”

When he continues to be frozen, the regret starts to mount, “Is—Sorry, is that okay to do—?”

“It’s very okay to do.” He manages to reply, with haste. Nodding to himself. “It’s good.” He nods again, then marches off, expecting you to follow to the elevator. You do.

“What floor?”

“Eighth.” He sniffs; you press the button. He stands next to you, looking you up and down. He astutely observes. “Orange.”

“Yeah.” You smirk, looking back at him, “Turns out, businesses can have two colours in their designs.”

What’s a little roasting of fellow small businesses between two not just friends?

“Oh yeah?” Coy, smirking. Oh no. You’ve gotta get the teen off the controls. He tilts his vision to stare at your jacket. Ah. You opted to wear your Carhartt instead of his jean jacket.

“Didn’t wanna give Syd more questions.” She already guessed you’re a sugar baby, you don’t want to wrap Carmen in on that too. Especially since ideally in a month or two he’ll be your boss. Hm. The Bear is going to need an HR.

He hums, nodding. “We’re not telling Syd?”

“What’s there to tell?” You grin, crossing your arms. “You suddenly have free time, Bear?”

He takes a beat, thinking, then just takes a deep frustrated yet amused exhale. “I’m gonna fuckin’…” He can’t think of a threat. “…Get you.”

You snort, “You’re gonna get me?”

“Fuck you—!” “You’re gonna fuckin’ get me, Bear?”

“I—” He tries to hold a straight face, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I am.”

“Can’t wait.” You nod, grinning, turning back to the doors. “You told me to ask how menu’s going tomorrow.”

“I did.”

“It’s tomorrow.” The door dings, opening on the eighth floor; you step out together. He switches his grip to hold the box in one arm. Alright Biceps, we don’t need to brag here...

“It’s… We’re getting there.” He grimaces. “Syd’s recipes are always… Almost perfect.”

“Ah.” You nod, you know your friend well enough to know where this is going. “And she fucks up one thing hard?”

“Mhm.”

“And when you tell her it’s okay and give her a hand she just feels worse?”

He nods. A touch surprised you’re right on the dot so quickly. “Everything ends up perfect, but I think she’s finding the edits…”

“Demoralizing.” You walk down the hall together, he nods. “I know what she needs, I’ll find an in.”

“You always do.” He hums, you walk just a touch ahead of him, unknowingly walking past his door. He pulls you back by the back of your jacket, making you stumble back into him. This seems to be this villain’s intention; as when you turn around, he’s quick to grab your chin and kiss you.

“It’s very good.” He emphasizes, again, before opening his door and acting like everything’s totally normal and fine. Since when did he turn the tables and make you the desperate one? Son of a bitch.

Ah. Actually, subtract any attraction you had in this moment— He lives like this? Books on the floor, by the window. Jeans on the dinner table, because they were in the oven. The kitchen actually looks alright— You’re almost certain that’s purely for utilitarian purposes while they’re working on the menu. This motherfucker better have a bed frame or him asking you to sleep over would be downright offensive. God, he’s wonderful. God, you’re an idiot.

You find Syd at the table, moping, head in hands. Carmen sets the box down, sitting beside her. You pat the top of her head. She silently moves one of her hands to go over yours. You nod. The silent exchange of girls who know.

“Yeah?”

She nods, grumbling. “Yeah.”

Carmen has no fucking idea what’s happening and he’s never been more intrigued by a near wordless social interaction in his entire life. What? You’re not even making eye-contact. What the fuck is happening?

You fish through the box with your free hand, grabbing a pot. You place it in front of Syd. “Look.”

She peeks through her fingers. A tiny but flourishing nursery pot of basil sits before her. You speak. “You’re gonna hyper-fixate on this basil I’m gifting you, and then you’re gonna crack back into it with the dual burner until I’m done fixing the oven.”

She nods, putting her hands in her lap, “Yes, Chef.”

You pull out a second nursery pot, setting it down for Carmen. “For you.”

“What for?”

“Basil grows like a motherfucker and it’s getting unhinged. I need to start pawning off to people that’ll make good use of it. A-K-A, chefs.” You look at Syd, pointedly, “Talented chefs.”

You hand off the heating pad— Wrapped in brown paper with a card tied to it, to Carmen. “For Nat.” You add, when he looks confused, “Can’t imagine I’ll see her sooner than you will.”

He looks even more confused, when you hand him a spray bottle full of reddish water. It’s one of the good spray bottles, too. Continuous. Carmen wouldn’t know the difference, but you do. “Rosemary. —Water, that is.”

He squints; you clarify, gesturing to your own hair. “You mentioned, losing hair, so— Thought I’d make some, with the trimmings of rosemary I had. Got ginger and cloves in it, too.”

Why have you trapped him in hell? You’ve remembered such a specific off hand from days ago and acted on it? And he can’t express the grandiose level of affection he feels right now? Are you serious? You’re the devil. You’re absolutely the devil. He just coughs out a ‘thanks’.  

“And, the pièce de résistance,” You pull out the old ass, boxed up double burner countertop stove. “A stovetop that ideally fuckin’ works. It was my single claim to fame in my college dormitory.”

Carmen’s already opening the box. Sydney smirks, curiosity peaked. “Was that legal?”

“You a fuckin’ RA?” You grin, poking her forehead. “It was not. And that’s exactly why everyone loved me— Didn’t serve them fuckin’ hot pockets.”

The configurations of Carmen’s apartment would be great for literally any occasion besides the current one. The kitchen is narrow, and so, when you pull out the stove to check the back, there’s an estimated no fucking room left for Carm and Syd, so they sit at the dinner table with your stove top. You’d think they’d look like they’re doing a cute hot pot. No. They look like two conflicted and confused twelve-year-olds working on a science project.

So do you, honestly. Wiring is definitely more your speed than plumbing, but if you’re being honest, this is the first oven you’ve worked on without your dad, and you’re having a hard time remembering everything. There’s a lot of embarrassed Googling on your phone, when you're sure they’re not looking. They can’t know you’re even slightly incompetent!

You’re pretty sure it’s just a couple damaged wires, fried from overwork— Easy fix, if you had wire. You don’t. Slightly harder fix. But soldering is your bitch really, you’re in your bag. You look stupid, wearing chunky goggles and a respirator, but you’re in your bag, baby! What’s that one saying? Skills make you hot? That’s not a saying.

But it is true. When Carmen’s able to peer into the kitchen, quickly looking over his shoulder when Syd takes a moment to write a measurement or direction down, you look stunning.  Respirator and all. You just look correct there, in the kitchen. His kitchen. So stunning he feels guilty. Do you find it annoying? Constantly fixing errors behind him? Probably. You say it’s not a lot of work, but that can’t be true.

“How’s The Bear, ‘sides menu rework?” You ask, raising your voice in the kitchen.

“S’good.” Carmen. “I’m in hell.” Syd. Not hard to tell which statue is lying, here.

Syd stutters on, “Nat’s takin’ care of baby Michaela— Which is very good and—and cool, actually.”

“But?”

“But we’re back to handling the business side entirely ourselves, for like— The next month. Maybe two? Fuck, are we doing the wedding without her?” Sydney almost burns her sauce, Carmen’s quick to move it off the burner.

He mutters, “Don’t even start to think about it. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Oh yeah, wedding— Have you gotten your menu yet?” You call from the kitchen, muffled by your respirator.

“Oh my god!” Sydney exclaims, and Carmen is wincing. She can’t tell you things are going wrong; doesn’t she know that? You’ll fix it, if things are wrong. You always fix it. Fix him. You’re gonna put him in your phone as Carmy Bad News. If you haven’t already. Start a support group with Tif.

Syd continues, “They’re so fucking particular and somehow also vague—Like, ‘we want salmon and chicken’ for main course— What kind of preparation? ‘Surprise us!’ Okay, how about roasted chicken—? ‘Mmmm, no, not that’. I’ve been told ‘non quello’ at least ten times in the last four days.”

No, you’re witty. Bad News Bear. Fuck, that’s definitely his name in your phone, isn’t it?

“Fuckin’ nightmare. Y’know, I’m the only fucking bartender? For like three hundred guests? Thank God they’re not asking for a custom cocktail or anything, I’d lose my shit.”

Sydney laughs, and she steps back into her flow easily, reducing the sauce without burning it, now. She looks more serene than she has in days. What? How are you doing that? What are you doing? Are you casting a spell?

“Can you even fucking imagine what their couples’ cocktail would be?”

You groan from the kitchen, laughing in return, “Not you too, Syd! Must you make me work!?”

“C’mon maestro, make a cocktail!”

“Bleh. Uh… They give long island iced tea energy, but it’s a wedding so— Like a boozier negroni?”

“That sounds fucking disgusting.”

“I didn’t say it’d be good, I said it’d be their couples’ cocktail.” You’re both giggling, like school girls. It’s like you said— You become teens, together.

Despite the fact that Syd is making an incredibly complex dish, and you’re fixing an oven—His oven— Ridiculing the other impossible tasks set out for the both of you… Despite all of that, you’re laughing.

Carmen is, what, nearly thirty? A restaurant owner, with a full crew, who attends Al-Anon, and is only now truly registering the power of an unsolvable burden being shared. Not fixed, shared. Talking. Laughing. God, this all comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?

You finish soldering, test each burner, and the oven— All working, thank God. You quietly cheer in the kitchen, removing your respirator and goggles. “We’re good here! Fixed!”

“C’mere!” Syd calls out to you, and so you do. Eagerly. She hands you a fork. Unprompted, she does the thing. You’d missed the OG, really.

“Beef Oxtail, pressed in a Foie Gras casing, seared. Basted in a King Oyster mushroom sauce. Pureed greens on the side.”

“I never know what the fuck you’re saying.”

She pushes the side of your face with the palm of her hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew.”

You want to make some sort of kink joke, but you respect the already struggling man in the room and take a bite. Hm. Hm. You put a finger over your mouth, swallowing. “...Now it might just be my unrefined palate.”

“That’s why we have you try it.” Carmen pipes in. Syd nods, following. “It’s important to know the baseline.”

“…It’s got like,” You hand the fork to Syd so she can try it, while you think. “A bit of a bitter aftertaste? Which might be the… goal?”

Syd spits it out the second it touches her mouth, she shouts your name, your actual name— A rarity. She’s so terrified that she forgets the Walk-In bit she’s been in on all week. “I just fuckin’ poisoned you— Oh my god?! Are you good? That was— Fuck! You swallowed that?!”

She grabs your face like a concerned mother, also maybe to check if you have superpowers, you’re not sure. All you know is there’s a golden opportunity to make another sex joke and you have to hold back. Life is so unfair.

Carmen takes a quick taste, also spitting it out. “I’ve got it, Chef, don’t sweat.” Immediately looking to the drafted recipe card to see where they went wrong.

Syd almost squeezes your cheeks like a stress ball but thinks better of it, letting go, groaning, beyond frustrated at this point. “You shouldn’t have to fix it— I should fuckin’ have it, at this point.”

Carmen's trying to ignore how much he relates to the sentiment. He's not the focus, right now.

“We make mistakes, Chef—” “Syd.” You snap your fingers, pointing to her, interrupting Carmen. “Can you help me grab something, from my car? It’s kinda big.”

Carmen’s quick to chime in, already going to untie his apron, “I can—”

“No!” You look at him pointedly, trying to communicate through look alone. He kind of gets it? “It’s… Girl stuff.”

Syd squints. “You need me to help you carry a big girl thing?”

“…Are you fuckin’ helping or are you gonna poke holes?”

“What are you actually dragging me out for?”

“Technically I do actually need your help grabbing something, it’s just not a girl thing. And it's also not from my car.”

“Oh?”

You walk out of Carmen’s building with his keys, and gesture out to every apartment buildings treasure trove— The spot everyone throws their furniture when they move out and don’t know what else to do with it.

“Bookshelf!” There is actually one pristine looking bookshelf, a cheap one, definitely just something from IKEA. But it’s better than the fucking floor. “I spotted it on my way in, we’re gonna bring it up for Carm.”

She groans, hating the concept of manual labour, but still walks with you and grabs one end anyways. “Why didn’t you make Carmen carry his own bookshelf?”

“Because you need a fuckin’ pep-talk.” You pick the other end of the bookshelf up. It’s thankfully not that heavy. You walk backwards so you can keep facing Syd.

“…I don’t—” “Yes the fuck you do.”

She kisses her teeth, you frown. “What’s up, Adamu?”

“It’s just fucking annoying— I keep, I keep fucking it up. I keep—Keep—”

“Doing too much.”

She gives you a look, ‘are you serious?’, type look. You continue. “You’re doing too much. You’re not cooking like you.”

“I can cook like Michelin—”

“I never said you couldn’t. Watch your step.” You interrupt, walking over a bump in the sidewalk. “You can do star level shit, Syd. But that’s a grade, not a type.”

She kind of reels, at that. You continue, “You cook great complex dishes, you always have, I’ve tried them. But now, you’re all caught up trying to prove some shit, to Carmen, to—to— Who gives stars? The tires guy?”

She laughs, almost dropping the bookshelf. “Yeah, I’m trying to impress the tires guy.”

“Fuck you.” You snort, stepping up the stairs. “What I’m trying to say is, you should make what you want to eat, not what you think you should eat.”

She nods, you stop on top of the stairs, both taking a second to breathe. “…Thanks.”

You nod back, hands on your knees for a second before standing back up, opening the lobby door. “I’ll always be your cheerleader, Syd.”

“More like coach.”

“Can you let me have one hot girl career, please?”

When you get back up to Carmen’s, he’s already grimacing. You and Syd are split apart by the bookshelf standing between you in the hall. “Fuck is this?”

“It was free and I’ll clean it!” You press your hands together pleading. “C’mon, you can even put your jeans in it!”

“Jeans on a bookshelf?”

You turn to Syd. “Better than the oven.”

“I think he’s doing that to dry them.”

“I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t own a dresser.”

“It’s both.” Carmen clicks his tongue, single-handedly picking up the bookshelf and carrying inside. Alright, does he need to show off this much? Whatever. It’s definitely not making you feel any type of way at all.

You squint, watching him walk further in his apartment, and then to Syd. You speak at the same time. “He stays doing too much.”

As promised, you wipe down the bookshelf, making sure it’s free of grime and roadside pests. Syd and Carmy work together in the kitchen, with a now functioning oven. You load the shelf up with the books on the floor— Thankfully they’re piled into categories already, so you don’t have to bother him about that.

You’re tempted to clean his living room, but that would probably be rude, right? Don’t want him to take it as you saying he’s a slob. But they are taking a while… Alright, you’ll just throw out trash. You won’t fold blankets or pick up dishes or anything. Just trash! No big! He can’t be mad at you for that.

You pile together the garbage, then sneakily throw it out in the kitchen trash can as fast as you can, before he looks. He’ll think he’s just sleep cleaning, or something. “How’s it goin’ in here?’

Carmen pipes up, eyes focused on the dish as Syd plates it. “Good.” Syd holds the plate in one hand, and silently corrals you with the other to sit at the table. You do. She sets it down the plate before you, handing you a fork and knife.

You look up at her expectantly. She shakes her head. “Eat first, this time.”

She looks serious, so you nod, cutting into the dish. It’s different from the last one. Instead of oxtail, it’s pastry. Or at least, a puff pastry exterior. You’re pretty sure it’s Pillsbury, you remember Carmen buying that, the other day, on your excursion.

Inside it, you believe is the beef oxtail, there’s other things, too. Some sort of sauce, some greens— Oh well, no time to bask in the cross section because Syd looks like she’s about to explode. You take a bite. You nod, chewing.

Syd starts, “Searing the duck caused the bitter taste— So instead of- Of searing the outside, I coated it in the mushroom sauce, the greens— Not pureed, this time, for texture. Your basil, too. There’s a crumble of feta, for a subtle tang. And then wrapped it all together in puff pastry, and baked. It’s sort of like, a varied take on a beef welling—”

“You made a fucking gourmet hot pocket?” You swallow, wheezing. The second you say this, Sydney’s focused face beams, laughing, like she’s just pulled off the most perfect prank of all time.

Carmen was so intrigued and focused on Sydney’s explanation, that you watering it down to hot pocket and being right makes his entire system reboot. He cannot stop smiling, aghast. He's been helping Syd make a hot pocket for the past hour?

“I told you to make what you want and—” wheeze “—you make a fucking hot pocket?!” You double down, laughing with her, she’s trying to defend herself but she can’t stop wheezing in tandem.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ stand you!” You snort, covering your face with your arm. “I hate your ass, oh my God, Syd.”

“Did—” snort “What did you think?” She recovers, slowly but surely.

You shake your head, handing her the fork. “It’s sick, Syd, obviously, it’s fucking perfect… Chef.” You tack on at the end, almost forgetting. “I’m not gonna be able to have an actual hot pocket, ever again. You’ve ruined my life.”

She takes a bite for herself, nodding. She does a small cheer, pumping her fist. “Let’s fucking go.” She points her fork at you— Purely on muscle memory, and you both instantly remember the days of her testing out recipes and you pairing them on first taste. She’d point her fork to you like a microphone. It was a fun game between two nerds.

It’s a reflex response for you, even now. “Barolo. Savory, dry, red. A young one, though. Light body. Could also do an Amarone, if you’re not buried in money.”

She hands the fork off to Carmy to try it, then writes the pairings down, mumbling, amusement still in her voice. “How the fuck do you do that?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think I have some wires crossed.”

“Fire, Chef.” Carmen swallows his bite. “We cannot call it a hot pocket on the menu.”

“Then what’s the point!?”

Leaving Carmen’s place is objectively the most awkward experience— But also the funniest. You offer to wait for Syd and drive her home— You’ll need a second to pack anyways while they make their business plans.

When you do offer, of course, Carmen stutters short, almost asking you again to sleep over or at the very least stay late, but saves it, realizing himself.

Syd accepts the ride offer. You pack up and wait for her to be done. When she is, Carmen offers to carry your things down with you both, in which Syd accuses him of thinking you’re both weaklings— He does not have a defense case for this, he has to let you go. You can tell he wants to kiss you at the door, and you do too. Sadly, you’re equally down bad, but he can’t know that…

You say your goodbyes, Syd helps you load your tools and hotplate in the trunk of your car. Your phone vibrates. Text from Mister New York.

‘Look up I’m on the balcony. 8 floors.’

You look up, sure as shit, he’s out there, cigarette in mouth. Unlit. He waves, you wave back. He texts again, in rapid succession.

‘Thank you’

‘For helping Syd’

‘And the oven and the hot plate and the bookshelf (not necessary)’

‘nbd + I think it’s v necessary’ Does Carmen understand acronyms? You’re risking it, here.

‘and cleaning my trash’ Sonofabitch.

‘ah fuck. I don’t think you’re messy!!! I just wanted to help!!!’

‘I know. You’re you. Be safe.’

Oh goddammit, stupid dry texter, saying something so gah. You jump as Syd taps the roof of your car behind you, getting your attention. Watching from a far distance, Carmen laughs, though you don’t notice it.

“Are we going?”

“Yes! Sorry!” You hurriedly pocket your phone, waving one last time as you get in your car. Syd sits beside you in shotgun, her pot of basil sat safely in her lap. You drive off.

You’re half way down the road, when Syd pipes up again. “So y’all are fucking, correct?”

You almost brake check the guy behind you.

 “How do you fuckin’ do that!?”

the opening is dedicated to my dear friend and i who have sent our wordle results to each other everyday for the past like year and a half.

Things of note, one - people usually skip the shit up top-- I made a spotify playlist! Listen if you like, I'm not your dad.

Two, I know this is a self insert right, i know what I set myself up for-- Do you know the hell i am in as a syd x carmy girl writing scenes with both of them and it NOT being them? What have I done, to myself? The only coping mechanism I have is imagining in this universe Syd is a lesbian. And that is helping.

The hot pocket recipe-- Who fucking knows, if that would taste good? I think it would? In theory? I fucked with a dish from Daniel NYC, to make it into a bit. Would it work? ....Beef wellingtons do, I can't see why this can't???? Idk man.

Rosemary water w cloves and ginger does fucking work btw. I am part of the so stressed out i lost my hair brigade. Also basil does grow like a motherfucker.

We're seein' a little bit of that tenseness that comes with being in an 'almost relationship' both of them feel like they've got something they can fuck up now. Poor birds. They'll be okay. Probably.

I'm really excited for the next chapter, I don't wanna give shit away, but it's gonna be,,,,,, different. I haven't seen anyone try this kinda formatting on tumblr before, and I'm excited to see what you think. Between my moving and how complex the choreography of it is gonna be, it's gonna be a much longer minute between this chapter and the next, I fear. But listen, you already knew your ass was gettin' spoiled with a chapter every two days. Hehe.

As always, please come yap to me in the replies/inbox/dms/reblogs. I love to hear thoughts!! It sustains me, baby!!

Next Part

[estellan0vella]

Tiny Tim Returns Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU Pt1

You’re standing behind the counter of the parlour, enjoying the rare quiet moment. The shop is filled with the faint buzzing of tattoo machines and the distant laughter of Megumi and Yuji playing in the corner.

Sukuna, Gojo, Geto, and Toji are out on a supply run, leaving you to watch over the place. As you glance around, ensuring everything is in order, the bell above the door chimes, signalling a new arrival.

Your heart skips a beat as you recognize the man stepping inside. It’s the same guy who attempted to rob the place just a week ago. He scans the room with narrowed eyes, clearly expecting to find the heavy hitters who usually keep watch.

“Megumi, Yuji, go to the back office and lock the door,” you say calmly, your gaze never leaving the intruder.

“But, Y/N/N—” Yuji begins, concern etched on his young face.

“Now,” you repeat firmly, cutting off any further protest. Reluctantly, the boys comply, exchanging worried glances as they disappear into the back room.

As the door clicks shut, Ren, one of your regulars and a biker with a heart of gold, steps out from behind a booth. He’s been chatting with you while waiting for the guys to return and watches the unfolding scene with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

“What are you gonna do without your guard dogs?” the robber sneers, attempting to sound intimidating but failing miserably.

“I have Ren,” you reply nonchalantly, nodding towards the biker who raises an eyebrow in response.

Ren chuckles, leaning casually against the counter. “Yeah, I’ve got a soft spot for Y/N and the kids. Not that she needs any protecting.”

The robber tries to assert dominance by stepping closer, but you hold your ground, unphased. “You might want to check the sign,” you say, gesturing towards the window decal that reads, ‘No Guns Allowed. Seriously, We’ll Laugh In Your Face.’

“That sign’s in your honour,” you add with a smirk.

Ren lets out a hearty laugh. “I remember when they put that up. Good times.”

The robber’s face reddens with anger. “Is it medically diagnosed as microscopic?” you ask, feigning concern.

Ren snorts, adding, “Did the girls laugh at you in school?”

Undeterred by the robber’s growing frustration, you continue with playful banter. “You’re a Freudian case ready to be studied.”

“Does the gun make you feel like a big man when you point it at a woman?” Ren chimes in, thoroughly enjoying the exchange.

“Let me guess your name. It’s Tiny Tim, right?” you say, barely managing to stifle a laugh.

“Do you need a hug?” Ren asks, spreading his arms wide.

“I’m sure we could get you laid down on the couch and give you a teddy bear,” you suggest with mock sympathy.

Before the tension can escalate further, the door swings open and Sukuna, Gojo, Geto, and Toji stride back in. Relief floods through you, but you maintain your composed demeanour.

“Well, well, well,” Sukuna says, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he eyes the robber. “Look who’s back. Think you’re a big man because you waited until it was just my girl and two kids?”

“I had Ren here,” you point out, crossing your arms confidently.

Toji nods in greeting to Ren. “Nice to see you, Ren.”

“Hey, man,” Ren replies with a nod.

“Someone needs to learn their lesson,” Sukuna says, stepping forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Don’t hurt him, poor thing,” you interject with a theatrical sigh. “He’s just confused. Why don’t you make him pretty instead?”

The guys exchange amused glances before dragging the robber over to a chair. Gojo pulls out his piercing kit with a grin, his movements precise and almost artistic.

“I think he needs a few more holes,” Gojo remarks, piercing the robber’s face multiple times.

Sukuna, always the creative one, tattoos ‘I’m an idiot’ on the man’s forehead. “There, now everyone will know,” he says with a smirk.

Toji and Geto join in, tattooing crude drawings on the robber’s cheeks. You glance up from your magazine, a mischievous idea forming.

“How about ‘I cry in the shower’ written across his neck?” you suggest, a playful glint in your eyes.

“My girl’s a genius,” Sukuna praises, adding the new inscription with a flourish.

When they’re done, the robber is a sight to behold—a chaotic canvas of piercings and humiliating tattoos. Ren watches the spectacle with entertained fascination, leaning againt the counter. 

“You’ve got a free tattoo card to cash in whenever you want one,” Sukuna tells Ren.

Ren nods, a grateful smile on his face. “Thanks, Sukuna. I might take you up on that free tattoo one of these days. As long as Y/N’s designing.”

"Are you sure you don't want one of the guys?" You grin, gesturing to the robber. "They've done a magnificent job"

Sukuna, Gojo, Geto, and Toji all glance at each other, their mischievous grins widening as they take in the sight of the now thoroughly humiliated robber. The buzzing of the tattoo machines fills the air as they admire their handiwork.

“Well, babe, I’m glad your tits are okay,” Sukuna says, giving you a once-over with a smirk.

Gojo nods in agreement, his expression mock-serious. “Yeah, couldn’t let anything happen to those.”

“Priorities, right?” Geto adds, winking at you.

Toji just chuckles, adding his own line. “We'd be lost without them.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “My heroes,” you say, giving a sarcastic little bow. “What would I do without you?”

The door to the back office creaks open, and Yuji and Megumi peek out cautiously. When they see the situation is under control, they step out, their eyes widening as they take in the sight of the robber.

Yuji’s face lights up with delight. “He’s got willies on his face!” he exclaims, pointing at the crude drawings that Toji and Geto had tattooed.

Megumi bursts into laughter, holding his sides. “He looks so stupid!”

The adults can’t help but join in, the room filling with the sound of hearty laughter. The robber, now thoroughly humiliated and realizing the gravity of his mistake, squirms in his seat, trying to avoid eye contact.

Ren, still leaning casually against the counter, chuckles. “You boys sure know how to make a statement.”

“Only the best for our favourite customers,” Sukuna replies, giving Ren a friendly clap on the shoulder. “And for my girl.”

You smile at Sukuna, feeling a warm rush of affection. “Thanks, Kuna. You always know how to handle things.”

Sukuna grins back at you. “Anything for you, babe.”

Yuji, not missing a beat, runs up to Sukuna and hugs his leg. “Suku, that was awesome!”

Sukuna ruffles his little brother’s hair affectionately. “Glad you think so, kiddo. Now, how about we get some ice cream to celebrate?”

The boys cheer in agreement, their earlier fear completely forgotten. You shake your head with a smile, marvelling at how quickly they bounce back.

As the group begins to disperse, Ren gives you a nod. “I’ll catch you later, Y/N. Don’t forget about that free tattoo.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply with a wink. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Sukuna wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “You handled that like a pro, babe.”

You lean into him, feeling safe and content. “Well, I’ve got the best team backing me up.”

“Damn right you do,” Gojo says, grinning. “And don’t you forget it.”

Yuji tugs at Sukuna’s sleeve. “Can we go now, Suku? I want chocolate!”

Sukuna laughs, scooping Yuji up into his arms. “Alright, alright. Ice cream it is. Let’s get out of here.”

As you all head towards the door, you glance back at the robber one last time. He’s still sitting in the chair, looking thoroughly defeated and adorned with his new, embarrassing tattoos.

“You should probably find a new line of work,” you suggest with a smirk. “Something that doesn’t involve robbing tattoo parlours.”

The robber groans audibly, burying his face in his hands as Toji and Geto haul him to his feet, escorting him out with a mixture of firmness and amusement.

"Make sure to leave a positive review!" Gojo calls after the man as he runs away.

"I need a drink," You say, stretching your arms above your head as Sukuna locks up the parlour. "That 50s diner place does boozy milkshakes right?"

Sukuna chuckles, nodding in agreement as he locks up the tattoo parlour behind him. "Yeah, they do. And they've got those ridiculous burgers too."

Gojo perks up at the mention of boozy milkshakes. "Count me in. After today, I could definitely use one of those."

"Let's go!" Yuji and Megumi exclaim, their eyes wide at the though of milkshakes.

Together, you head towards the dinger, ready to face whatever comes next, knowing that with your found family by your side, everything will be just fine.

taglist: @sad-darksoul

[piftamere]

part twenty-three - something stupid (wc : 0.4k)

“what do you want to eat?” maki asks you, as you both stand in front of the colorful food stall.

“um let me think,” you reply, tapping your chin while examining your options as if you were making a life-threatening decision, “how about candied strawberries?” you finally suggest, your face lighting up.

maki seems to ponder for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly before a small smile appears onto her face,“yeah, that sounds good.”

you hand over the money to the vendor and receive two sticks of shiny, ruby-red candied strawberries.

“i don’t think we’re gonna have a good view of the fireworks from here.” you say as you inspect your surroundings, sounding a little disappointed.

she looks around and then back at you with a determined expression. “let’s look for a better spot then, hurry they’re gonna start soon,” she grabs your hand firmly, “i won’t loose you this time.” threading her fingers through yours and leading you into the crowd.

you trail behind her, focused on trying not to stumble as you match her pace, though the feeling of her warm skin on yours is a little distracting.

finally, you find a perfect spot with a clear view of the sky. settling down on the grass next to her, still holding hands.

“i’m glad you and megumi are cousins” you mutter matter-of-factly, as you hand maki her candied strawberries.

she looks at you with a puzzled smile. “that’s a bit random, but ok.”

you chuckle, “i meant that i’m happy you and megumi are cousins because that way i got to know you. i’m really glad i met you.”

her face softens as she gazes into your eyes. “i’m really glad i met you too.”

you sit in silence before maki speaks up hesitantly. “can i confess something?”

“sure go ahead” you turn to her, your curiosity peaked.

“i never really liked strawberries…” she admits, barely above a whisper.

you stare at her, then at the strawberries in your hands. “why didn’t you say so?? i would’ve bought something else! or we could’ve eaten different things!!”

she looks down at the snack, a small smile on her lips. “you seemed so excited, and i wanted to share with you… turns out strawberries aren’t as bad as i remembered them to be.”

you bump your shoulder into hers, laughing lightly “you’ve gotten soft maki.”

she bumps you back, but she doesn’t move away, instead resting her head on your shoulder and sighing contentedly as the first fireworks light up the sky. “i guess i have.”

[tl:dr : you buy snacks, run through a crowd to get to a spot with a better view while holding hands, and watch the fireworks]

fun facts

maki and y/n rented their yukatas after spending all afternoon the day before the festival trying different ones on, in the end maki picked y/n's and y/n picked maki's

kugisaki didn't comment on y/n's "possible feelings" since y/n's feeling down but she's taking notes, and pulling her hair out at their stupidity

the song maki mentioned was written by y/n alone about how confused she's been feeling lately, especially because of her feelings and relationships

author's note

megumi needs to grow up fr

can you tell i like holding hands? i feel like i always end up incorporating it lol

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ tugging on heartstrings ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

as an aspiring solo artist, you dream of making it big in the music industry. With your talent and unwavering determination, you find yourself entangled in a web of romantic pursuits amidst rumors and betrayal. Will you emerge unscathed and manage to navigate your love life in the chaos of fame?

Part twenty-three - Next

rbs and interactions are highly appreciated <3

taglist : closed :) to be added leave a comment on the masterlist of the smau

@lysaray @swissy23 @d6za1 @minzxec @sleepy-waffle @saturn-alone @dreamxiing @selysixn @reiluvr @lavender-hvze @mellozhi @cre8inghavoc @ichorstainedskin @inosfavgf @k4sss133 @taelattecookie @cheese-enjoyer9471 @wateronlyhaha @sonicsolos @bkgs-girl @colortheoryrocks @kinkybandages @woahguy278 @cuteandohsodeadly @weewooooweew @peqch-pie @myguumi @r0ckst4rjk @jun1p3rlol @juliiizh @seikamuzu @theweirdfloatything @h3xi2g0n3 @xbarrjallenx @0range-juiceee @xenop0p @reagan707 @eyes-ofhell @fyodorisbbg @theresmeaninginthat @emlient @danhengswifey @cherrypieyourface @bitchycloudstrawberry @ofherchaos @shanye1112 @eusaevi @fuyuzemi @cupkiki @lvtilzs

if you're name is crossed out i couldn't tag you, if it's not fixed in a week i'll remove you sorry :(

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Commonly asked questions

How do I submit songs? Submissions are currently closed. When it opens up again, I'll post a message here stating rules and which specific info I require. If you don't supply that info along with the song, your message will be deleted.

I submitted a song when we were allowed. When will it appear? :) There's waaay over two thousand songs in my askbox. 😅 And I'm very slow at posting submitted songs because it takes an oddly more amount of time and energy than you'd think, that's why it's easier for me to go with the songs I already have. Please have a bit more patience, hopefully it'll be posted soon enough! 💖

I don't like the genres posted recently. 🤷‍♀️ I mean, you can tell me what genres there's a lack of and I'll try put more effort into adding more of them.

I don't like the poll options. 🤷‍♀️

Will there be an "Indifferent" option? No. People bitched and very rudely demanded it when the blog was new and it left a very sour taste. Also we're 250+ songs in, it's kinda meh to add it now, but I definitely understand why you want it because some songs are really hard to define if you feel anything at all about them. (also you know people would just click indifferent to see the results instead of listening to the song lol) If I were to ever add more options, it would be love/hate.

How do I vote on a song if I feel indifferent about it? Indifferent = don't like it ig. 🤷‍♀️ Remember, I'm not asking you if you LOVE!!!!!! the song, or if you want to buy it. Liking can be as good as only a "meh, it's ok / decent enough to run in the background". Disliking can be being indifferent instead of outright hating it, when it's so neutral to you that it doesn't give you any positive feelings. It is only a minute long clip that I'm asking you to form an opinion about after all; you can change your mind either way when you hear the full version. Sometimes songs have to grow on you!

How do you pick the songs used in the polls? Mostly like this:

I have a huge mp3 hoarding archive so the submitted songs are easier for me to pick if they're already in my possession. 😅 Songs that aren't in my collection (tagged as #new to admin :D lol. sometimes i search out songs specifically for the poll that are tagged this as well) requires a bit more effort to download/listen to/edit but i have discovered a couple of great new gems so don't think i don't appreciate them!

How do I search for a specific artist/song that you've posted? All artists are tagged a day or so after the song reveal. Don't forget to use the hashtag symbol when searching or tumblr will give you all sorts of odd results!!!! (or none at all, lol) Please also remember that tumblr finds simple easy tasks extremely difficult, so only search for an artist with the easiest type of spelling, like #beyonce instead of #beyoncé. All artists and songs are added to the Complete Song List once their showdown poll is finished, for a quick search of what's been posted.

The audio quality is too poor for my taste!! 😡 sad </3

This is just for you. 💖

Why are all the songs of such vast variating quality? ....i mean, you didn't think I've bought all the tens of thousands of songs in my music library, did you...? Pirating songs gives you variations of quality, hell even my own cd rips have variations. It's easier to get better quality files now than it was back in the days, kiddos, so yeah some songs in the archives needs to be updated with new files. I have some very ancient mp3's that are in really low sound, that i've instead downloaded newer versions of in better quality for the polls but y'all still give me shit about it because the artist have remastered the track to unrecognition or whatever so there's just no pleasing some people i guess lmao. 😂

Do you like all the songs you've posted? No, lol. All the songs that are in my archive are songs I've at least liked enough once upon a time to save them, even if I'm not actively listening to them much anymore. Everything tagged as #new to admin :D are new songs to me that I may or may not like, regardless if they're submitted or if I've scouted them out myself only for the polls. :) Songs that I hate so much that I can't stand them are very few, and I won't waste time on adding them!

Did you change the song in the poll?? No. Maybe you clicked on the wrong one if I posted them too close together or maybe (most likely) tumblr has screwed something up for you. Some songs don't even show at times because it's tumblr being tumblr, just wait it out for a few minutes and tumblr will eventually remember to play the audio. So far there's only one song that I had to re-upload because tumblr killed the file. I can change the clip to better audio or to another part of the same song, but I never replace it to a different one once it's out there for you to vote on, I don't see the point of doing that.

Why are some polls audio files and other video files? Again: tumblr being tumblr. They won't allow some songs to be uploaded as audio, but using them in videos is ok. I hate the audio-as-video format and it requires even more effort from me so I'm not doing it on purpose. :)

I don't remember if I've heard this song before or not. If you know you've heard it, like if you're a fan or a hater or the song has been constantly played on the radio, you know it. (this is why the phrasing has been changed again in the latest polls) If you don't remember it, or just vaguely, or just a specific tiny part used in a meme/tiktok video, choose first time. The only thing that matters is the yes or no, knowing it or not is just an added fun but don't take it too seriously. :) Look at it sort of like "old fan/casual listener/hater vs new listener".

The part of the song that you posted SUCKS!!!! You should have just posted this one specific famous part for people to vote yes! "don't post the actual song in this song poll" ...................................like, no. not gonna post just the meme-bits or the drops or the whatever. Yeah i saw all the comments how you all clicked dislike on "Out of Touch" because you voted before you got to the chorus 😂 That's an honest opinion about the song lol, because a song is more than just a catchy chorus or a big drop. But yeah, sometimes one verse of a song would've maybe been better to post instead of that other verse, I'm with you on that.

I queued this song to see what it is but it's still stated as being Anonymous for me! Reblogs, drafts and queues will only show you what's there at the time, like a screenshot. It won't update automatically. All your reblogs, drafts and queued posts from when the poll is active will only show up as Anonymous songs. Always go back to the original post to see the song reveal. If the info isn't there, then give me a day or two to update the post because most likely things are too busy irl. 💖

I voted wrong/voted before I recognized the song! Will you change my vote? No, I'm not recounting anything wth. 😅

I'm embarrassed. I like the song but I don't want others to know that I do. I promise you that nobody but you can see how you've voted. Not me or your mutuals. Only you see what you've voted on. It's ok to like bad songs, and it's ok to like good songs by bad people. Don't let others shame you for that.

How do I vote on this cover/remix that was posted instead of the original? If you feel like this version is close to the original that you like, vote yes. If you don't feel like this version does the original song justice, vote no, even if it hurts.

This song that I don't know samples another song that I do know. How do I vote? I don't consider samples being used as being the same song, so pick first time. Unlike covers/remixes, the original song that has been sampled might show up at a later time, if it hasn't already been on here before.

How does so many people not know this song!!? Everyone is not your age/not from your country and your experience is not universal. 🤷‍♀️ That being said, I too get wtf-moments sometimes because some songs really do get wacky results, so, yeah 😂

Have you ever thought about-- Yes.

I demand you give me a rickroll!!!!!! Ask things nicely instead of demanding things from me. (This is the most common demand I've gotten, sigh. Thanks to those of you who have at least asked nicely and/or with a sense of humour!)

Please do a rickroll? It's already been posted in a bonus poll. It might show up in a "real" poll in years from now if this poll blog is still active but as of now it was added to a tumblr meme post where it was better suited.

I'm gonna ignore that submissions are closed and send you song suggestions anyway!!!! They will be deleted because they're not asked for atm. Unless you're the artist. Exceptions can be made in that case. :)

This poll blog doesn't respect my requirement to know who the artists are before I listen to their songs because of my need - that is very important that everyone else needs to acknowledge and follow - to know if a person is of a good moral standing according to my own views!! 😡 There's other poll blogs better suited for you. Not everything online has to be adjusted to fit *your* particular needs. 🤷‍♀️ (YES i've actually gotten this demand way too often. Sigh.)

Why was my reblog hidden from the notes where I spew hatred over an artist?! You are censoring me!!!! Did you mention the artist by name, or other obvious spoilers? Don't post spoilers. 🤷‍♀️

You hid this other comment I made with no spoilers!!!!! Sometimes comments show in dashboard mode but not in app mode and vice versa, or not even in the notifications. Haven't we already established that tumblr finds easy stuff extremely difficult? Also, sometimes you and I don't share an opinion of what a spoiler means. To all of you who have claimed an artist's name isn't a spoiler, yeah it's kind of a big one. As for the artist mentioning their own name or the song title in the song, you only hear that once you listen to the clip. Knowing it before even clicking to play the music is a spoiler.

Why have you turned off replies? I want to say things without reblogging!! I mean 🤷‍♀️ I'm sure you know why. Replies and anons have been turned off from the very beginning. The few times replies actually have been turned on, it's been stated as such and been very temporarily, like when we've discussed music in some post.

Turn on anon!!! I'm to shy to say thing off-anon! I mostly reply to things privately, or this blog would be nothing but q&a. Anons are off for a reason. Abuse and death threats are to be associated with the sender's account for all to see. I'm always nice to nice people so there's no need to worry about sending me questions or tagging me in things. :) 💖

I demand you to-- Pay me. :)

Shut up and take the abuse thrown at you personally because you're just a poll blog! You are aware that the poll blogs on tumblr aren't actually run by bots, right? Don't be an obnoxious twat. (and ughh yes, this too has been said to me several times. Sigh.)

I want you to add this song I want RIGHT NOW and/or i WANT these other options added now! Rich people can always break all the rules, just like irl. Just give me the $$$$ 😘

I don't like this song because I don't understand the language. Please only post English songs. Ok well, I mean, you can always learn other languages. 🤷‍♀️ Just like how I learned English.

If anyone feels targeted by these last questions without me meaning to, I'm sorry. These actually are the most common questions and comments and demands I've gotten in my askbox. Especially when the blog was new and people Demanded Their Rights to have me adjust everything to suit them. Don't feel like you can't state your thoughts in reblogs or in messages because as long as you're not being rude to me, my attitude on some answers isn't targeted at you, only at them. 💖 Remember to just have fun with the polls and hopefully you and/or your mutuals discover new music!

[babydollmarauders]

OURS — TREVOR ZEGRAS

trevor zegras x fem!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n and Trevor’s relationship is constantly being criticized by outsiders but they know their love is real.

warnings: references to nsfw activities, hate from outsiders, dialogue heavy, not proofread

notes: written semi-quickly, shorter than my other recent works, idk how i feel about this one, but it’s done and i hope y’all like it. ending is kinda iffy but oh well.

it seems like there’s always someone who disapproves of Trevor and i’s relationship.

my parents don’t like his carefree and confident demeanor. his younger brother didn’t trust me because i was someone new. his friends didn’t like that i write songs about exes and my relationships.

but most of all his fans and the media, judge us like they know us personally.

mostly judging me.

as a singer, my every move was criticized and picked apart. what i wore was either too homely or too dressed up. i was too skinny or too big. my heels were too tall, but then my nike’s were too ‘tom-boyish’. but the judgement had only seemed to get worse once i started dating Trevor.

suddenly his fans were saying i wasn’t good enough for him. analyzing our body language in photos and claiming that i didn’t act like i liked him. saying i was using him to further my fame.

but on the other side, i had my fans commenting that i was too good for him. citing his previous playboy ways and saying that he wasn’t smart enough or mature enough for me. claiming his bad boy attitude drew me in and that i would ‘come to my senses’ soon.

***

y/nofficial

liked by trevorzegras, gracieabrams, and 151,308 others

y/nofficial summer with my boy toy <3

tagged trevorzegras

Load more comments

trevorzegras my beautiful girl, you were off to a great start in the beginning and then you added the last photo

y/nofficial wdym? i think that ones my favorite!

trevorzegras whatever floats your boat mamas

gracieabrams cutest couple in the world ♥️

y/nofficial you’re the real loml <3

gracieabrams shhh i thought we weren’t telling trevor?

user26 NEW MUSIC COMING SOON?!

user81 i wonder if it’s about Trevor

jackhughes was i cut out of the last pic?! i thought you loved me, y/n 😪

y/nofficial in the wise words of Ariana Grande “you ain’t my boyfriend”

user40 the way she’s leaning away from him in the 5th pic? oh she’s over him

user95 she’s finally over the bad boy thing, i guess

user02 thank god! i don’t want her to get hurt!

user73 @/user02 HER to get hurt?! she’s gonna end up writing a slandering song about my baby Trevor and painting him to be an asshole

user02 @/user73 lmao yeah, well the shoe fits. why shouldn’t she write a song showcasing his true colors?

user73 @/user02 i’m not about to fight with a Y/N stan of all people— have fun supporting your famefucker

user02 @/user73 oh please, she doesnt need to use your little hockey asshole for fame when she’s already more well known than him

user12 we love a PR relationship 🫶

***

my converse squeak against the marble floors as i leave my execs meeting, catching the attention of many up and coming artists that are waiting in the lobby. i can feel their gazes following my every move, from when i stop in front of the elevator to when i press the down button, and i can’t help but laugh in my head; reminiscing of when i was the same way. star-struck and in awe whenever i saw any artists leaving the same doors i just walked out of.

but now, having been in the business for two years, that feeling has come and gone, replaced by small talk with those very same people that i once looked up to.

“hi.” i smile politely at a redheaded girl that sits close to the elevators, a notebook in her hand and stars in her eyes.

she looks around, as if searching, before she lets out an awkward chuckle. “oh- hi!”

the elevator dings twice before the doors open to another crowd of wannabe pop stars, and i step aside to let them out before waving a goodbye to the doe-eyed redhead and stepping into the elevator.

i’m excited to get back to my boyfriend, but that excitement vanishes when i scroll through twitter on my uber home.

—

—

oh- that was fast.

i can’t help but scroll through the replies and quote tweets, and by the time i arrive back home, i’m disheartened to say the least.

i thought i was being nice by greeting her? even if i couldn’t stay and talk. but apparently i should take this as a lesson for the future, don’t say hi to anyone unless i can stay and chat.

and my mood only worsens when i make it into the house, calling out my boyfriend’s name, to which i get no response.

“Trev?” my voice echoes off the walls of our home as i step into our bedroom, in search of the six foot tall hockey player. but i come up empty, finding that he still isn’t home from training camp.

i slide my phone from my pocket, drafting up a text before ultimately trying my luck at a phone call instead.

the outgoing ring reaches my ear twice before it stops, the call picking up.

“hey babe, what’s up?” Trevor’s tone is light and airy, painting an immediate smile across my lips.

“hey, i was just checking in.” i sit upon the fuzzy white blanket that’s folded along the foot of our bed, running my hands over the soft fabric. “i thought training was supposed to end at noon?”

“oh, yeah, it did.” he confirms, and i can hear someone else talking in the background. “Jimbo and i decided to grab lunch and catch up a bit.”

“oh, okay.” i nod, despite the fact that he can’t see me, and i can hear him conversing with someone.

“shh. hold on.” he tells someone. “he wants to say hi.”

i laugh as Jamie’s voice comes through the line. “HEY Y/N!!!”

“hi Jame!” i reply, listening as he grunts, wrestling the phone from Trevor, i assume.

“i’ve missed you!” he sounds closer now, while Trevor sounds farther away, calling out for his phone back, confirming my suspicions. “when do i get to see you again?”

“i’ve missed you too. if it’s alright with Trevor, and if you’re free, you can come over for dinner tonight?” i tell him. “i can go to the store and grab stuff to make my garlic and basil chicken pasta.”

“oh my favorite! i’m in! i don’t care what Trevor has to say about it, to be honest.” his response causes me to laugh, while my boyfriends calls out an offended ‘hey!’

“see you later!” Jamie yells, as i assume Trevor gets his phone back.

“did you need anything else, babe?” Trevor asks distractedly.

“no, nothin’ else.” i stand, gathering my car keys from my nightstand. “actually, i’m gonna go grocery shopping, can you think of anything we need?”

“condoms,” he replies unabashed, and i blush at the thought that Jamie heard him. “and frosted flakes. i finished ‘em off this morning.”

i roll my eyes before teasing, “the condoms or the frosted flakes?”

“both.” my skin heats up at the reminder of our morning activities, Trevor having woken me up before the sun even came up.

“oh- uh- okay.” Trevor laughs as i stumble over my words. “i’ll grab some more…of both.”

“thanks, love you!” he waits for my reply before hanging up, and i pad out of the bedroom, slipping my shoes back on by the front door before heading out to my car. i wasn’t big on driving, usually letting Trevor take that responsibility, and avoiding it when possible, so i only really used it when i had to go grocery shopping, relying on ubers to go anywhere else.

i slip into the drivers seat, huffing when i find that Trevor messed with my seat again. a harmless prank he likes to pull, just to see when i drive again and if i’ll notice. i adjust my seat before i pull out of the driveway, the radio playing faintly to fill the silence.

*

i’m nearly done with my shopping trip when it happens.

“he still uses those?” i’m mid-tossing the family size box of Frosted Flakes in the cart when the words reach my ears, and at first, i don’t even notice they’re being spoken to me. “he always said it felt like he was wearing nothing.”

i glance over to find a tall blonde standing next to my cart, staring down at my items.

“i’m sorry?” my brows furrow in confusion.

“oh- the condoms. Skyn Elite? Trevor used them back when he and i used to hook up a couple years ago.” the girl smiles, the supermarket lights reflecting off her sparkly lip gloss. “you’re his new conquest, right? y/n?”

“i’m his girlfriend, yes.” i nod, pursing my lips together in a straight line.

“right,” she nods. “girlfriend. you got the envied title.”

“i guess so.”

she gives another falsely innocent smile. “good luck keeping it! he’s insatiable, is he not? seemed like he was always keeping an eye out for the next girl.”

i’ve never particularly cared about the ghosts of Trevor’s hookup past. why would i be? i had them too, so who was i to be bothered by his? besides, right now, he’s mine. i’m the one he comes home to; the one he loves and talks about a future with.

“well, i should get going.” i tell her, already beginning to push the cart towards the end of the aisle, in route to check out. “it was nice to meet you.”

i was lying, sure, but i wasn’t going to let her get to me.

she bids me goodbye as i walk away, and when i glance back, i see her faux smile drop, her eyes rolling as she sneers, turning the other way.

yeah, i pretty much expected that.

*

i’ve just made it into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bags onto the counter, when my phone begins to ring, buzzing in my pocket with an incoming call.

i do an awkward dance of trying to free my hand from a twisted bag handle, before retrieving the vibrating device from my pocket, my fathers contact taking up the screen. pressing accept, i hold the phone up to my ear.

“hey, dad!” i chirp, opening the refrigerator to begin unloading the food.

“hey, pumpkin. what are you up to?” his voice drifts in my ear as i put away a gallon of milk.

“just unloading groceries.” i inform him. “what are you and mom doing?”

“oh, nothing.” he sighs. “just missing our little girl.”

i laugh at his dramatics.

“i know, i need to come visit.” i stuff a few cartons of berries and a bag of grapes into the fruit drawer before shutting the fridge.

“so catch me up, honey. what’s new?”

“nothing really. i’m working on some new music, and i had an exec meeting this morning to discuss how the album is coming. but other than that it’s same old same old.”

i open the cupboard, taking care of the box of cereal and a couple bags of chips as i speak.

“and you’re still dating the uh…” he trails off. “the one with the tattoos?”

i can hear the disapproval oozing from his voice and my eyes roll in my head.

“Trevor, yes.” i confirm, walking down the hallway to our bedroom and placing a few things on Trevor’s nightstand before setting a new bottle of shampoo on our bathroom counter.

“yeah, him.” he sneers, and it’s then that i hear the front door open, two sets of footsteps reaching my ears. a smile spreads across my face as Trevor calls out my name. “i don’t understand why anyone would do that to their body. that’s permanent, ya know.”

“mhm.” i hum in disinterest. “hey, dad, i gotta go. i’ll call you later.”

“oh alright, honey. love you!”

“love you too.” i hang up the phone as Trevor steps into the room, smiling at the sight of me.

“there you are.” he beams. his arms snake around my waist, pulling me against him, and his head dips down to bring his lips to mine.

“here i am.” i mumble against his lips, causing a chuckle to arise from his throat.

“Jamie is in the living room. followed me home claiming that he had to see you.” he tells me, his eyes lighting up at the mention of his close friend.

“yeah, i invited him over for dinner.” i inform him. my hands cup the back of his neck, pulling him back down for another kiss.

my whole body relaxes, any tension disappearing when his lips meet mine. his eyes scan my face as he pulls away, and his faces falls, his lips forming an exaggerated frown.

“what’s wrong?” he whispers, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear before pulling my head to his chest.

his heartbeat echoes in my head, calming me immensely.

“nothing.” i mutter, my eyes falling shut when he begins rubbing circles on my back.

“i don’t believe you.”

“it’s nothing, really.” i insist. “nothing that’s actually bothering me. just a little annoyed.”

“what annoyed you, baby?” he sways us back and forth and his hand on my back trails down to tickle at my side, making me giggle.

“well,” i sigh and he pushes me back to look into my face. “i said hi to a girl at warner today-”

he hums, encouraging me to keep talking.

“but it was just a quick ‘hi’. apparently she’s a fan of yours, and she thought it was rude of me to greet her and then not stay and chat.” i explain. “so she took to twitter to say so.”

Trevor huffs, his nose scrunching in annoyance. “well that’s just stupid. you don’t owe anyone a conversation…. except me. because you love me, obviously.”

i laugh at his joke, making his face light up at his successful attempt to cheer me up.

“what else, baby?”

“well then, at the store, i ran into one of your ex-hookups.” i continue, and his brows thread together in confusion.

“which, ya know, doesn’t bother me.” i clarify. “but she made a comment on the condoms we use and implied that our relationship wouldn’t last long.”

“our love is not hers to speculate on.” he gruffs out in annoyance, and i nod along.

“i know. so i walked away.”

“i’m proud of you, love.” he presses a kiss to my forehead, a smile resting upon my face as he does. “is that all?”

“almost.” i breathe out. “then i got home, and my dad called as i was putting away the groceries.”

“okay.” he nods, obviously confused why i would be annoyed about my father calling.

“and he made some snide remarks about your tattoos.” Trevor barks out a laugh at that, quite used to people commenting on the art that adorns his skin.

“i ignored them, and hung up pretty much right after, because you got home. but, i just wish he could look past them, because then maybe he’d see the kind, funny guy that you are and understand why i’ve given my heart to you.”

his eyes squint as he grins at my words, bending his neck to pepper kisses across my nose and cheeks. i squeal at the affection and he pulls back to look me in the eyes.

“baby, i don’t care what your dad thinks of me. only that you like me. and i’m pretty sure that you love me just the way i am.”

i nod, biting my lip and holding back a smile. my cheeks turn hot, a blush settling over them, and he smirks at the sight.

“i don’t want you to worry your pretty little mind, baby.” he coos. “so someone was wrongfully upset that you didn’t take time out of your day to talk to them— who cares? people like to throw rocks at things that shine. and you, my darling, shine so beautifully bright. they’re just jealous.”

i roll my eyes at his cheesy statement, but the sentiment warms my heart. “thank you, Trev.”

“any time, baby.” he pulls me in for another hug, my head resting on his chest again. “our love is ours. nobody else’s. what other people have to say about it, and about us, doesn’t matter.

“you hands belong in mine, my heart belongs to yours, and no matter what life throws at us, i’m by your side.”

i open my mouth to respond, but i’m cut off by another voice.

“aww, that was sweet.”

i lift my head from Trevor’s chest, our heads both turning towards the entrance to our bedroom to find Jamie standing there with a cheesy smile.

“Jimmy, what are you doing in here?” Trevor lets out a wheezy laugh at his friend, his head dropping back and his shoulders shaking. the sound is like music to my ears.

this man.

i am so irrevocably in love with him.

“i got bored.” Jamie shrugs. “you guys were taking forever.”

[lucidlivi]

Messes and Marriage

Requested: @k-slla

Jensen/Dean Tags: @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @perpetualabsurdity @antisocialcorrupt @heavenlyackles @anixiiee @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @deans-spinster-witch @hzllxhoundxx @alternativeprincess @spnbaby-67 (if you like to be added to my everything tag list please indicate by saying "please tag me in everything Jensen/Dean")

Warning: Mature Themes (shower sex) and Fluffy As Fuck

“Jensen please I’m sorry.” I squealed running around to the other side of the kitchen island.

“oh no sweetheart it’s on now!” Jensen laughed, holding a spoonful of cake batter.

Jensen and I were attempting to bake a cake for my parents that were supposed to be coming over later tonight, however we got a little off task.

I giggled looking at the cake batter that graced his nose and cheek.

"my hand slipped!" I laughed.

"oh yeah? and you just conveniently had cake batter on your hand?" he smirked getting closer.

"It was an accident." I said giving him my pouty lip.

"of course baby, and this will be too."

I closed my eyes as Jensen appeared in front of me, wiping the cake batter down my nose and on to my cheek. I cringed feeling the gooey substance on my skin. I opened my eyes to see Jensen wearing a wide grin.

"happy now?" I asked sticking my tongue out at him.

"I think I missed a spot." Jensen said swiping some over my lips.

I smiled as he leaned down capturing my lips with his in a kiss. He went to pull away but I grabbed the back of his neck pulling him closer.

It's been over three years now that we've been together, but I'll never get tired of the feeling of his lips on mine.

I pulled away licking the excess cake batter off my lips. I smirked seductively and took my finger, dipping it in the cake batter and wiping a line of it across his neck.

"oops." I whispered with a flirty look.

"guess you're going to have to get that off now huh?" Jensen growled lustfully.

I stood on my tip toes slowly licking the cake batter from his neck. Jensen let out a quiet moan as I left sweet kisses on where my tongue has just been.

He moved his head to the side, giving me better access. I took the opportunity to nip the skin of his neck, sucking it gently, but hard enough to leave a mark.

Jensen grabbed the back of my neck, bringing my lips off his neck. He crashed his lips back on to mine, kissing me passionately. I put my hands under his shirt, running them over his torso. Jensen picked me up setting me on the island without breaking the kiss.

As he did this, the bowl with the cake batter fell off and clattered to the ground, sending cake batter all over our kitchen floor.

"oops" Jensen laughed, causing me to laugh as well.

"we probably should clean that up." I whispered out of breath.

"yeah we probably should." Jensen said leaning his forehead against mine.

Jensen reconnected our lips in a slow lustful kiss.

"or it can wait." he whispered, raising his eyebrows.

"it can definitely wait." I panted.

Jensen picked me up throwing me over his shoulder. I shrieked as he ascended the staircase giving my butt a light smack. He brought me to our master bathroom, gently setting me down on the side of the tub. I watched him start the shower before stripping his shirt over his head.

I stared at him lovingly and lustfully. I still couldn't believe out of all the beautiful women in this world that he chose me.

I had worked on the show as a special effects artist, only getting to see him when there was an especially bloody scene.

I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when he started to come around, hanging out in the makeup trailer while we were working on his cast mates. I didn't think anything of it at first, not until Anna, another makeup artist, started to gossip about how Jensen was looking at me.

"you're crazy Anna, he could literally have anyone in the world, why would he waste his time with me?"

I was even more surprised when those ten little words left his lips.

"would you like to go on a date with me?"

Of course as my luck would have it, our first date was a little bit of a disaster. Our waiter spilled red wine all over my dress just minutes in to the meal, and embarrassing me in front of the handsome actor.

Jensen took me back to his place, offering me a shirt and some boxer shorts and we ordered takeout. I was thankful but still felt embarrassed, even though it wasn't my fault.

Jensen then brought out another bottle of red wine, as he was opening it he seemingly popped the cork "too harshly" spilling the wine on his nice dress shirt. I smiled as he started to laugh.

"guess we're both a mess."

He did it on purpose of course, trying to make me feel better. It was a disaster date at first, but I knew from that moment on what we had was something special. I cautiously agreed to be his girlfriend shortly after our first date, believing all of this too good to be true.

I remember the first time we stepped out as a couple, of course it came with scrutiny from other people who didn't know anything. I remember wanting to pull out of the relationship at one point, not being able to deal with the gossip, or the people suddenly very interested in every move I made.

I couldn't do it though.

Every time we were alone, it reminded me of why I agreed to be his in the first place. When we were alone he wasn't Jensen Ackles the famous actor from Supernatural, he was just Jensen, the guy who purposely spilled wine on himself so I wouldn't be embarrassed.

I fell in love with him the way you fall asleep, slowly and then all at once. But when it hit me, it hit me like a freight train, and I knew from that moment on, I couldn't live without him, nor would I want to.

"what's going on in that head of yours angel?" Jensen asked, squatting down so he was eye level with me.

"just how much I love you." I smiled, watching his eyes light up.

"I love you too sweetheart." he quickly responded.

Jensen offered me his hand, pulling me to my feet.

"let's get cleaned up sweetheart." he smirked, grabbing the bottom of my shirt slowly pulling it over my head.

He brought his lips down slowly kissing me. He took the time to slowly undo the tie on my shorts before sliding them over my butt and down my legs.

I stuck my hands in the waist band of his sweats tugging them down his legs. Jensen brought his hands behind my back, unclasping my bra with ease. I moaned as his lips parted from mine, traveling south towards my now bare chest.

"I swear you get more beautiful everyday." Jensen whispered

I gasped as his fingers tugged at my panties, before running over the spot where I needed him the most.

"how did I get so lucky?" he asked, his voice dripping with lust.

Jensen inserted two of his fingers, gently thrusting them in and out. I moaned and grabbed his length through his boxers, gently stroking him.

"I'm the lucky one J." I whispered sinking to my knees. causing his hands to fall away from me.

Jensen groaned in pleasure as I slid his boxers down, running my hand up and down his long length. I parted my lips, slowly taking him in my mouth.

I took more of him in, causing him to throw his head back, a loud moan escaping his lips. He gently put a hand in my hair as I worked him with my mouth. I could feel his legs start to shake, signifying he was close to his release.

He pulled away from my lips before that could happen, helping me back to my feet. Jensen pulled me in to the steady stream of water, allowing it to coat both of our bodies.

"I need you J." I whined.

Jensen put his lips back on mine in a rough, hungry kiss. He picked me up, pinning me to the shower wall with his large body.

I moaned as he slipped inside, the steady stream of water mixed with our arousal allowing him to do so with ease. He thrusted quickly, causing a string of moans and curse words to leave my swollen lips. I sank my hips down meeting his thrusts as best I could.

"I love you Jensen." I panted, feeling the knot in my stomach start to unravel.

"not as much as I love you (y/n)" Jensen groaned.

A few more thrusts had us both spilling our arousal. Jensen kissed me tenderly before setting me back on my feet. I laughed as he still sported cake batter on his face. I'm sure I did too. Jensen took his hand gently wiping it away from my cheek and nose.

"guess we're both a mess." I whispered, quoting the very words he'd said on our first date.

I could see the smile grow on his face in recognition.

"I kind of like making messes with you though." I added with a laugh.

"I could make messes with you forever." Jensen said kissing my now clean nose.

I took my hand, wiping the batter from his face now.

"forever huh, that's a lot of messes." I giggled.

"I mean it (y/n), I want to make messes with you for the rest of my life." Jensen said, staring deeply in to my eyes.

I could feel my pulse quicken at his confession. Was he saying what I think he was saying?

"Jensen, are you saying..." I started but he quickly cut me off.

"Marry Me."

I could feel the tears well up in my eyes as I stared at the man I love. I was lucky enough to get this feeling, and now I get it forever. I didn't realize I had just been staring until he spoke up again.

"say something please baby." Jensen pleaded.

"are you kidding of course I want to marry you." I said bringing him down for a passionate kiss.

"I actually was going to ask your dads permission tonight, but I can't wait any longer, I want you, all the time, for the rest of my life." Jensen said kissing all over my face causing me to giggle.

"I want you all the time, for the rest of my life." I said smiling.

"I guess we have a lot more messes to make." Jensen smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"and a lot of messes to clean up." I laughed thinking of the cake batter still all over our kitchen floor.

"our life, messes and marriage." Jensen laughed.

"to messes and marriage."

Author Note:

I hope I did your idea justice @k-slla! I appreciate all the love and support you give me and continue to give me, as well as everyone else who constantly reads and interacts with my pieces! If you like this one, please leave a heart, comment, reblog or follow! I appreciate it! Also for the others that have put in a request, fear not I am getting to them slowly but surely!

xoxo

Liv

[breanime]

For the gif drabbles ❤️

"This looks like shit," you threw the money on the table, "Do it again."

Annie and Ruby groaned in tandem, but Beth sighed. "It looks perfect," she said, looking up at you as you stood over her, "We've printed this same design four times--"

"--and it keeps getting slightly less like shit," you cocked an eyebrow, "Look, if you can't hack it anymore..."

"We can!" Annie spoke up, eyes wide. "We can, we'll get it right!"

"It's just..." Ruby chewed on her lip.

You could feel your patience thinning. "Just what?"

"Well," she continued weakly, "Lucy was the artist, so... without her..."

"Ya know, since homeboy did... what he did," Annie added in.

"...It's harder to print. We have her blueprints, but some of these subtler details are just... We need an artist," Ruby finished.

You nodded, scanning the three women before you. Annie looked nervous, as did Ruby, but Beth looked annoyed and defiant.

You were sick of her face.

"So get another artist," you said, getting bored with the conversation.

"Why? So your boss can shoot her?" Beth ground out, glaring up at you.

Your eyes narrowed at the same time Rio chuckled. You turned a bit, angling your body so that you could see him.

He sat on a chair next to a monitor, a hand on his chin and smirk on his face.

"That's funny to you?" Beth spat, anger clear on her face. "You shot a defenseless girl!"

You raised an eyebrow at Rio, but he was still chuckling. If he found her little outburst amusing, then you guess you would allow it.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head, "I'm not laughing about that. I'm laughing at what you said," he smirked over at you, "She called me your boss."

Annie frowned, looking at the two of you. "A... Aren't you?"

"She," Rio gestured towards you, a pride grin on his face, "is my boss. Yeah, see, a real bad bitch don't shy away from the dark parts of this business," he went on, "And so when I told my boss," he pointed at you again, "that I had to kill Lucy cause of your," he looked at the girls, "bullshit, well. She wasn't pleased. And I'm telling you now, looking at her face right now," Rio made eye contact with you, and you could see the pride in his eyes as he looked at you, "My girl ain't letting you dumb bitches fuck our shit up again."

Beth spoke before she could stop herself, "Your girl?"

His smirk stretched over his plump lips, "My boss," he clarified, "and my girl," he looked over at you again, "So, what you think, ma? Have 'em print it again, or have Mick take them downtown and put a slug in each of their heads?"

You turned back to the women, watching the fear swirl in Annie's eyes, the way Ruby stiffened, frightened and trapped.

And Beth's reddening cheeks, you could see the humiliation on her face, now that she was looking at what she could never be, what she could never have, standing right in front of you.

You looked over at Rio, and you thought back on your life with him--meeting him when he was just a runner for your father, Rio remaining loyal to you even after your father died and you took over his organization, the first time you kissed, when you had blood on your hands and he had thought he lost you, the way Rio had grabbed you and held you to him, the first time he ever let himself act like anything but a loyal subordinate to you. You remembered that sick, cold feeling in your gut when you'd heard that he had been shot three times, that he was with the feds. It's what brought you back into his orbit, you'd sworn to keep it professional with him years ago, but that... that pulled you right back in.

You watched Rio watch you, and you felt a wave of protectiveness come over you as you looked at him--the man you loved. You turned to Beth, your gaze cold as ice and as strong as steel, using every ounce of your status as a boss to intimidate her. "How about you choose, Mrs. Boland? You want to print it again this time, and do it right, or would you and your gal pals rather take a ride with Mick?"

"W... We'll print," she said weakly.

Rio's chuckle warmed your soul, and as the ladies worked on the new print, you turned to him. He gave you a special smile, one full of love and appreciation for you, and you turned your back to the girls as they worked.

They didn't get to see the loving smile you gave him back.

That was only for him.

**********************************************************************

Thank you for reading! Lemme know what you think!

[tomssexdoll]

hi can i request where the reader is a famous singer and when she gets interviewed they ask her who her crush is and it’s Tom and she performs a song for him (SOAKED BY SHY SMITH 😉😉) and he sees it 😣😣 it can end with them meeting and it ends with smut or fluff you choose 🤍🤍

yess

"So Y/N, we're curious to know, do you have any crushes" the interviewer asked.

I chuckled nervously, adjusting my dress. "Yeah, I do infact have a crush, his name is Tom Kaulitz, the guitarist for Tokio Hotel" I smiled, feeling my cheeks burn up a bit.

"Ohhh, is there anything you'd like to say to him Y/N?" "I'd actually like to perform a song for him, if you don't mind" I winked, the interviewer nodded and announced the ad break.

The crew came on stage, setting up everything for me.

As the ad break came and went the camera panned to me, the music started to play.

"Cause baby you got me so, so soaked, the heat is getting to me. I want you all over me, baby you got me so" I sang, staring directly into the camera incase he was watching.

"Our bodies moving for sure, you get me so hot im soaked" I continued to sing. As the song finished and the music faded everyone started to clap, cheers roaring from the crowd.

TOMS POV:

I got tagged multiple times on twitter, I clicked on the videos and it was an interview, an artist I had never heard of, y/n l/n. I watched as she sang the song for me, my jaw dropping and eyes widening, she had a beautiful voice but the lyrics were so dirty.

I smirked and knew I had to meet with her.

Y/NS pov:

My phone pinged, a notification from twitter?

I opened it and saw THE Tom kaulitz had texted me, I gasped and instantly opened the message, it read.

"Hey gorgeous, I saw your little song on that interview, thanks to people tagging me in it. I was wondering if you wanted to meet up and maybe get to know each other"

I instantly started typing, my fingers tapping at the keyboard on my phone quickly.

"Yes that sounds great! Let's meet at that cafe on main street tomorrow at 4pm"

We agreed to everything and I squealed, I knew it was a good idea to do the song. His and my fans are crazy so of course they would be clipping it and tagging him.

Whether it was negative or positive I was glad I finally got his attention.

The day came for our meet up and I wore the sexiest dress I owned, I did my makeup and hair. I pushed my bra up a little, my cleavage very visable in my dress.

"Fuck..I look good" I blew a kiss at myself in the mirror and got into my car, driving to the place we agreed on. I was super nervous, yes I liked him a lot but I never expected this, my heart raced as I approached the cafe.

I saw him sitting there, waiting for me. His dreads flowing softly in the wind, wearing a casual baggy outfit. "Shit..did i dress up too much" I looked down at my dress and shrugged.

I got out of the car, acting casual and making sure he could see me. My hair flowing in the wind as I walked across the road, hips swaying.

As I got to the other side of the street I saw his jaw hang low, I obviously had some sort of effect on him. He stood up and and smiled brightly, "heyy, it's so nice to finally meet you" he pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arms around my waist, hands dangerously close to my ass.

I returned the hug and giggled, "likewise" I sat down and ordered a simple sandwhich and coffee. "Soo, y/n, you look really beautiful today, is it all for me?" he smirked, teasing me.

I blushed a little "y-yeah, I guess so" I stammered on my words, super nervous in his presence. He nodded, a satified grin on his face. He sat back and continued to talk with me, we had so much chemistry, able to talk for hours.

A few hours passed and I checked my watch, eyes widening at the time. We met up at 10am and it was now 5pm. The waiter came out and told us the cafe was now closed and we had to make our way out so they could clean, we payed and thanked them, wondering what we should do now.

"Do you wanna come back to my place and talk more?" He suggested, wrapping his arm around my waist and holding me close. I bit my lip and nodded, walking to each others cars and getting in. I followed him, his car a bit faster then mine.

As we arrived I stared in awe, a beautiful, huge house with amazing decor on the outside. He came to my car and opened the door for me, taking my hand and walking me inside.

"Your home is beautiful Tom" I smiled, taking my shoes off and placing my purse on his kitchen counter. He chuckled, "thanks liebe, let's go to my room" he smirked, I raised an eyebrow and followed him.

I sat down on his bed, he sat next to me and caressed my cheek softly "you are so beautiful.." he whispered, kissing my neck softly. I grinned and climbed into his lap and pressed my lips into his, kissing him passionately.

His hand slid down to my ass, grabbing it tightly. I yelped softly at the sudden contact, granting tom access to put his tongue in my mouth. He runned his hands up and down my curves, tracing them with his fingers, sending shivers down my spine.

"Holy fuck.." he muttered against my lips, moving his hand up to my breast, cupping it gently. His hands were huge and covered my whole boob. I softly pushed him down and softly grinded on his erection.

He groaned and grabbed my ass cheeks, pushing me down onto his erection more, I moaned as his clothed cock hit my clit, my legs trembling slightly.

"Get on your hands and knees baby.." he growled lowly, I obliged and got off him, getting onto my hands and knees on the bed, waiting for him.

He rolled over and I felt the bed dip behind me, his hands coming to my hips and pulling me closer. He pressed himself against me, "you ready?" he grunted, "yes..please fuck me.." I winced.

He nodded and pulled my dress up to my waist, taking my panties off and dipping his fingers into my soaking pussy. "Fuck.." he pulled them out and licked his fingers clean, "taste so good" he chuckled and took his pants off, his erection springing out.

I bit my lip and waited nervously for him, feeling his tip at my entrance, slowly push in. "Ohh fuck!" I moaned, feeling him stretch me out slowly.

"So good.." he groaned, bottoming himself out in me. He retracted himself out of me and slammed back into me. Creating a harsh pace.

"Holy fuck!" I whimpered, feeling his tip ramming into my g spot brutally, leaving no mercy. "Take it schatz, take it all" he growled lowly, his hands tangling in my hair and pulling it back so that our bodies were connected.

He held my stomach, holding me up to his chest and pounded into me, my boobs bouncing up and down like crazy from how fast he was going. I felt his lips connect with my neck, sucking roughly and leaving marks everywhere.

I felt my stomach twist in a knot, signalling my impending orgasm. My pussy clenched around Toms cock tightly, like a snake wrapping itself around someones leg.

With one last brutal thrust I came, my orgasm crashing down and cum spilling all over his cock. He groaned and kept thrusting, shortly coming to his own orgasm too.

Shooting his cum into me, painting my insides white. "Oh fuckk..." he panted out, collapsing onto the bed, i layed beside him and felt his arms wrap tightly around me, pulling me closer.

E/N: kinda rushed but i hope u like it <3

Tags: @itsmealaiah @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @tomkaulitzloverr @estxkios @syylss @ballhair @ge-billsgf @charliesgoodboy

[pixiesfz]

Your SK ficcc 🥹🫶 please write more for Sam

wish is my command (reminder to everyone to send in request to the inbox I don’t judge for anything and I’ll most likely write it)

tattoo artist s.k

plot: Sam goes with Millie to watch her get a tattoo and finds the tattoo artist extremely attractive, she forgets to ask for your number so instead comes back the next week to get a tattoo herself.

warning: none really I guess (I was tempted to turn this into smut but it would only work if Sam was the bottom and I can not imagine that)

Millie was a frequent visitor to your shop, you were the magical artist who used her arm as a canvas after all.

She came in as usual, sometimes bringing a friend who was usually her boyfriend but when she came in with a friend behind her you smiled.

“Hi I’m y/n” you introduced yourself and the girl looked up.

Sam stopped for a second as she saw the girl in front of her, thankfully she hadn’t taken of her sunglasses yet so you couldn’t see how wide her eyes had opened.

When Millie said that she would like her tattoo artist she thought it would be a funny guy in his 30’s that probably had too many muscles to count.

She was not expecting you.

You with your shiny hair and surprisingly not tatted body which seemed to be glowing u der the harsh light behind you.

“I uh I- Sam” she stuttered and Millie turned her face away in embarrassment “I thought I recognised you Sam Kerr right?” You asked as you pulled out the chair for Millie to sit in “yeah” Sam said as she finally took her glasses of her face and onto her head.

“Our leading Striker” Millie added in as she winked to Sam when you turned around as Sam looked at her in bewilderment.

“So I hear” you smirked and Millie sat down “we here to finally finish this beauty?” You asked Millie who smiled “of course we are” she said and got comfy.

“Sam there’s a seat there if you’d like?” You told the girl who nodded “actually is there a toilet anywhere?” She asked and you nodded “just out the back on the left” you explained and she nodded and walked off.

When she went out of earshot you turned to Millie “Millie!” You whisper shouted “I told you that you would like her”

“And she’s Australian that’s like 1000+ points in my book” you gasped “if you want I can fall asleep in the chair so you can talk to her more” Millie offered and you rolled your eyes “nonsense” you said and then looked to wear the girl had gone “actually maybe”.

You had started tattooing Millie as she talked about her recent engagement when Sam walked back in “Sammy!” Millie cheered in her spot “does it not hurt?” She asked her friend with a smirk which you stopped to look at “you insinuating that I hurt my clients Kerr?” You asked and she blinked her eyes

“No I would never I was just-“ “I’m pulling your leg Sam you’re fine” you laughed and she sat down “ok” she muttered and you smiled.

She was very cute.

From her back pony tail, to her nicely designed shirt and shorts.

She caught you staring for a second before she cheekily pointed at Millie’s arm “can I tattoo something on you Mills?” She asked and Millie glared at the girl “lay a finger on me and I will break you” she warned and you and Sam looked at each other and laughed.

“Alrighty then, I need to focus” you said as you all three talked about soccer, then Sam asked if you had any partners “unfortunately not, most women don’t like when their girlfriends have to work night shifts” you admitted and Sam straightened her back.

You liked girls.

“I get that, most girls don’t like dating someone who has to travel a lot” she agreed and you smiled.

Sam liked girls.

By this stage Millie has miraculously fallen asleep and you pulled Sam’s wheel chair she was sitting on over.

“Watch this” you said as you went back to work on Millie’s arm, Sam watched as the ink stained into Millie’s skin, changing the colour of the skin that was still there.

“It’s cool isn’t it?” You asked and turned to her, only to find her already looking at you “yeah really cool” she hummed and you smiled “I only have a little bit to go so you can stay here and wake the devil up when I’m finished” you smirked and Sam laughed “okay”.

You finished up on Millie and on their way out, you and Sam kept on exchanging looks and Millie smirked, proud of herself.

“So we’ll probably see you next week? Sam asked and you crossed your head “unfortunately Millie’s arms all done so unless any of you want a tattoo you guys are free of me” you explained “oh” was all Sam said as she looked at the floor.

When they left you turned to see your co-worker who shrugged.

“If it makes you feel any better, If I was a girl and also into women I would have given you my number”

“Thankyou Terry”.

Millie explained the story to the team at the next training as they all turned to Sam.

“Are you mentally ill” Erin started off and Millie laughed “No seriously when we got into the car Sam had realised what she hadn’t done and freaked out on me”

“Guys can we not talk about this” Sam groaned and Niamh and Jessie both crossed their heads “no way” the England player started and Jessie looked at her “Why don’t you just go back to the shop?” She asked and Sam looked up “That’s actually a really good idea”

“Wait seriously none of you guys thought about that yet?” Jessie asked as Millie, Erin and Sam all crossed their heads.

Jessie looked at her team mates win worry as she looked at Niamh who shared her expression “oh my god”.

So that’s how Sam ended up I front of your shop at 10 pm with a choppy photo of a cool bird she saw once at a walk.

“Hey Kerr” you smiled as you opened the door for her to come in “hey y/n” she said and walked in “what gives me the pleasure” you joked and Sam smiled “I would like to get a tattoo” she explained and you nodded your head “I will say when someone comes to me with stupid tattoo ideas I turn them away so what you got?” You asked as you patted the chair.

Sam looked at you as you sorted out your inks, you wore a cropped T-shirt singlet and dark jeans but your apron covered the front half of your toned stomach which she was dying to see.

“Just something small on my wrist, just a bird” she shrugged and you nodded “any meaning?” You asked softly and Sam crossed her head “just something I like”.

You ignored Sam’s stares as you started the tattoo “what made you realise you want to get another tattoo?” You asked and Sam smirked “well you see my friend got one the other day by this really gorgeous lady”

You smirked at the girl who sat next to you “well this sounds interesting” you said as you went back to the almost finished tattoo.

“Yeah well I was like being really stupid and forgot to ask for her number” Sam dragged on and you smiled “I bet she really wanted that number” you said and Sam smiled.

“Can I have your number?”

“But what about the tattoo girl?” You asked with a fake gasp and Sam rolled her eyes.

“Yes I will gladly have your number Sam”.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A New Life 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Steve Kemp

Summary: You have an unexpected encounter in the park.

Part of the Silverfox AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

There’s a hint of dampness in the flow of spring air. The breeze stirs the leaves and the scent of dirt along with the sprouting leaves. The season of renewal has arrived. You hope there’s a fresh start for more than the foliage.

You sit on a bench along the winding path that leads from the nearby park. You have your journal on your leg, knee hook over the other as you sketch the thin branches of a barren bramble. You cross hatch the dulling end of the pencil, the skitter of unseen critters and winging of birds brushing around you.

Another twenty minutes and you’ll go. You can feel the rain, see it bulging in the clouds looming above. You can’t be very disappointed, at least you got out of the house. You need to do more of that.

You hear footfalls down the path. Heavy and quick. Another jogger passing through. You don’t look over, focusing on adding the patchy grass around the twigs. 

They get closer, looming as they bounce up the path, coming around the curve. This leg of the path isn’t as busy as the others. Many are deterred by the incline. You bend your neck as you raise the notebook slightly, trying to get the angle of the blades just right.

A huff as a shadow hangs over you. Someone claims the empty space next to you on the bench. You make yourself smaller as the jogger sits and bends over their lap, loudly catching their breath. You don’t own the bench, you can’t stop them, but there’s another further up the path.

“Nice day,” he comments as he raises his head, elbows on his legs as he stays hunched over his lap, “spring’s coming.”

You glance over. He’s older. His gray hair has a few lingering streaks of brown and his blue eyes meet yours briefly before you retreat back into your journal. You shrug and hum, “mhmm.”

“Good running weather, not too hot,” he remarks as he sits up, bending his elbow over the back of the bench.

You wouldn’t know. You don’t run. You’re surprised someone his age keeps up the habit.

“You’re an artist,” he points lazily with his hand to your journal.

You nod, “just doodles.”

“I can’t draw at all. Chicken scratch,” he sighs.

Your wall of silence slips into place. You don’t mean to be rude but you’re not overly fond of strangers. You hope he gets the hint.

“Sorry, hope I’m not disturbing you,” he chuckles, “you know, ever since my wife died, I just… spill all over.” He sits up and clears his throat, “like right now.”

You fidget and rest the pencil between the pages, closing the journal. “I’m sorry about your wife,” you eke out, a tremor of guilt tugging at your heart.

“That’s life, I guess,” he says, his other hand twiddling on his thigh, “can’t all be sunshine,” he looks up, “gotta rain sometime.” He stands and puts his hands on his hips, facing you, “probably soon, ya know? Wouldn’t want that pretty art to get ruined.”

“Uh, yeah,” you hug the book to your stomach, “thanks.”

“Er,” he reaches to rub his neck then drops his hand again, the front of his light zip-up straining across his shoulders, “I guess it’s been a while for me, I’m Steve.”

He offers his hand. You look at it. It isn’t the strangest encounter you’ve had but unexpected nonetheless. You left the house for some alone time. To get away from the stomping and hollering above your basement unit. Now you’re being pestered by this lonely widower.

That last thought once more fills you with guilt. You shouldn’t think like that. It’s selfish. You have your issues but you’re not mourning someone you love.

You relent and give your name as you reach for your hand. As you clutch it, you feel a strange prick against the heel of your palm. He clings to you, shifting oddly as the stabbing deepens in your hand. He holds onto you a strange sensation flows into your veins.

He lets you go as you recoil and hold up your hand. There’s a tink against the brickwork below the bench. You look down at the syringe as your journal slips out of your grasp. What the heck?

Panic erupts from your stomach and you try to scream but your voice catches in your throat. You set your feet and push yourself up, thinking only of fleeing. Who is this man? Why would he do this? What did he inject you with?

The horror courses through you the mysterious serum. Your vision hazes at the edges as you stumble on your wobbly legs, teetering back and forth. The man puts his arms out as you stagger and he brings you against him, hushing you as your head lolls back. Your eyes widen as he pets your forehead.

“Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he embraces you, “don’t fight it.”

You can only choke out a splintered moan. You hear more people. A group chattering as their footsteps echo up the path. He draws you into him, pushing your head forward to hide your face against his shoulder. He sways and coos as heaviness floods your limbs.

“Love you, baby,” he says loudly for the passing audience, kissing the top of your head.

You groan and try to fight him off. You only manage to lean harder into him. Your legs slacken as he’s the only thing holding you up. The group passes as they continue to talk about some party. You blink and your lashes stick together.

“Just breathe, it feels good once you let it happen,” he coaxes, “breathe, sweetheart.”

You take a breath, chest hammering, and let it out. Before you can expel all the air from your lungs, the world is black. You collapse into the void and the snare of this man.