#syd's aus

[gyaru-tau]

Smriles so big and wide I did it. I made a concrete design for Phil in This Au. And it has a name now! Although it might be subject to change if I come up with a name I like more lol. In that case I'll just like. edit the tag I use for it ig.

[coypaw]

short conversations ❤️ , 💀 🧼.

[mintayrs]

butchfemme sydcarmy take a walk around the farmers market in the peanuts universe <3

[mothinabottle]

"Well, yes, Sydney is actually my little brother. How did you know?"

...I mean, I am pretty sure that's not the case, but it would actually be really funny for an AU lol

Like, turns out you actually had a secret sibling and guess what? It's your fucking mentor. Maybe your dad had too much fun in his teenage years 😭

@troycattribunny you are giving me wayy too many ideas with only your reblog 🤔

[garlicisgodsbestinvention]

perfect dimensions

(Carmy x Designer!Reader)

Summary: The Bear is weeks from opening, and Sugar hires an interior designer to bring the vision to life. Part 1/3.

Warnings: cursing, WILL contain smut later 👀NO use of Y/N because this is the 21st century. Carmy x female!reader, reader is described as having longer hair but that’s it for physical descriptions. NOT EDITED because I’m lazy girl tehe

—————————MINORS DNI——————————

“I hired a designer,” Natalie tells them in passing on Thursday, waving a vague hand when both Syd and Carmy open their mouthes to ask, “She’ll be here in like, twenty minutes.”

“Okay, heard, but we already have a design,” Carmy says, gesturing to the wall covered in layouts.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had a degree in architecture and engineering. Those are fake dimensions, Bear; we don’t know shit about anything, so someone is going to come in and make sure that we’ve got the right fucking shade of white!” Natalie shouts before the office door slams shut, leaving Syd and Camry to stare after her with equal confusion.

“Pregnancy is making her…” Syd starts to say.

“Mean?”

“Yeah, mean. Definitely a little mean,” Sydney sighs, “She’s right though. Vibe doesn’t get us to opening night.”

And that’s how Carmen finds himself stuttering through an introduction from a now much-more-pleasant Natalie when she shows a woman through the front doors.

Carmen extends his hand to you, clearing his throat, nodding like a fucking idiot when you tell him your name.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m uh, I’m Carmen.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, mouth spreading into a smile that makes his heart beat a little faster. “Walk me through?”

Natalie takes the lead while Carmy and Syd hang back. One glance at the look on his partner’s face should have sent Carmy scrambling for something else to do, but he’s not fast enough to remove himself from her presence before a laugh is bubbling from between her closed lips and he’s desperately hoping his face isn’t turning red.

“Im, uh, Carmen,” Syd lowers her voice in a mocking tone.

“Fuck right off,” Carmy shakes his head at her.

“You literally forgot your name!”

“I didn’t forget my fuckin’ name—“

“Like oh my god, a pretty girl with pretty eyes appears and you forget how to talk!”

“Are you done?”

“Absolutely not. I can’t wait for Richie to meet her.”

Carmen wishes the day would never come.

Ten minutes later you appear back in the dining room, Fak following close behind with a shit-eating grin that makes Carmy wish he had never gotten out of bed this morning.

“Carmy! Did you know she likes to bake?”

“No, Fak, we’ve only just met. Would you let her do her job?” Carmen sighs, rubbing his fingers into his eyes to stop an oncoming headache. Syd snorts.

“We’ll chat more later, Neil, I promise,” you say.

“You might have just made yourself a new best friend,” Syd laughs.

Carmy looks away the moment your eyes swivel over to his, trying to disguise that he’s staring as best he can.

“So,” you say, “Natalie said you had drawings. May I see?”

Camry’s fingers itch in a weird way, but he manages a nod before striding over to his backpack to pull out the notebook while you scan the wall of swatches and inspiration photos. You nods your head a little, like you’re concocting an idea.

Carmy wants to twirl a finger through the strand of hair hanging loose out of your updo.

“So, uh, this is what I’ve come up with so far.”

He then spends the next ten minutes walking you through each of the drawings, explaining himself a little too thoroughly, and making random comments about lighting and booth fabric. You look intent the whole time, brow furrowed at the page, occasionally pointing and you don’t even have to say anything—Carmy just starts to over explain immediately following the point of your painted fingernail.

When he’s done, you nod your head slowly, the corner of your mouth twitching up. You’re wearing some sort of lipstick that reminds Carmy of the stain of touching a cherry pit.

“These are amazing,” you say finally, and Carmy feels his face heat. “I like the vibe. I love the vibe, actually. Are you a sensitive person?”

You look up at him and Carmy short-circuits.

Syd says yes, at the exact time he says no.

“Conflicting signals,” you say, “Anyone else to weigh in?”

It takes a second for him to realize that you’re making a joke, and he has to shake himself out of a stupor caused completely by the sight of your smile.

“Uh, no, no I’m good. Gimme feedback,” he says, and you reach out to flip the pages back, landing on the entry.

“Great. I’m going to tell you what we need to fix,” you say, straight to the point. “This entry is too small. Either we need to extend out into the sidewalk, or we need to push the kitchen back by at least five or six feet. The bar is going to create a bottleneck right here, and we need to inset these shelves to give you a little more working room. The lighting here needs to be sconces, and the bathroom doors need to slide to maximize space—this is too small for a swinging door.”

Carmen is fully intent on taking in every word you’re saying, but out of the corner of his eye he can’t help but see Syd’s face transform into something mildly resembling devious.

“Heard,” Carmy says, nodding his head as you looks back up. “Let’s rock.”

——————————————————————————

You become a fixture in Carmy’s life in the same way that Sydney or Richie or Nat are, appearing every time he turns the corner and whispering a hello in passing before you start barking orders to the contractors who listen to your every word. Strangely, he can relate. A week ago you told him, Carmen, please decide which side of the bar you want the ice machine on, and do it quickly so I can tell the water guy when he gets here. He’s never made a decision so fast in his life.

Even Nat had popped an eyebrow when he replied, on it, before you’d even really finished your sentence.

Usually, he’s on autopilot—walking in and straight back to the office or the kitchen and hardly ever stopping to notice what’s going on. He’s the first one in and the last one out by design, so he doesn’t even see everyone else arrive until they’re already there.

This morning, though, Carmy walks into the kitchen to see you already there, writing something out in a notebook as Natalie talks, waving her hands wildly.

“Okay, I got you,” you’re saying only glancing up when Carmy’s shoes shuffle too loudly on the floor. “Oh! Good, you’re here. I need you.“

Carmy raises his eyebrows. “Need me?”

“To look at paint swatches,” you say, ushering him into the main dining area. The words ring in his head like bells as he follows you, the scent of your perfume surrounding him as he walks through the crowd of it. You smells so good, and it reminds him of New York City somehow, the faint scent of rain.

He figures that you must have come in even earlier than he and Natalie both, because you’re dressed more casually than usual, and there’s a charm necklace dangling over your tee shirt that he tries to identify when you turn without you realizing he’s staring. He makes out a paintbrush and nothing else.

“Right, so,” you start, gesturing to the wall. There’s a beat of silence with them both staring at the three swatches on the wall, and then Carmy turns towards you.

Your words overlap.

Carmy says, “I hate them.”

At the same moment, you say, “They’re horrible, right?”

Carmy laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, not it.”

“Okay, so hear me out.” You say, leaving his side to pull something from your folder. “Pink.”

“Pink?”

“Like, oyster shell pink. Neutral enough that in the low light it’ll look pale, almost indiscernible from white. And this wall—“ you point to the back where the booths will be and shake your head. “Has to be a mural. It’ll look unfinished if it’s bare.”

Carmy nods along with everything that you say, trying to envision it. “What kind of mural?”

You tilt your head, chewing at your lip. Carmy completely short-circuits for an embarrassingly long second.

“I might have some ideas,” you say in a soft voice, crossing over to the table where you’ve set your things and pulling out a black sketchbook.

“Two artists in residence, huh?” Carmy jokes, his stomach fluttering when you smile.

“Do you draw anything other than food and restaurant interiors?” You ask.

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” you repeat, looking up at him. He knows that you want him to elaborate—he would never admit out loud that he spends the hours he’s not cooking trying to replicate the way your necklace hangs off of your neck and the curve of your wrist.

Occasionally he doesn’t do weird, obsessive, borderline creepy things—sometimes he sketches the buildings outside his window as the sun goes down, or tries to remember what the boat in Copenhagen looked like, or that one place he used to drink coffee at in New York.

Your eyes narrow at him just a little, like you’re trying to read all the things he’s not saying.

He dips his head, half to look at the page you’ve opened the notebook to and half to get out from under the scrutiny of your pretty eyes.

“That’s insane,” Carmy finds himself saying, looking down at the waves of color on the page. “It looks like, almost like wood? Or marble. That’s—fuck, that’s so cool.”

The page is covered in shades of brown and deep green and black, melding together into something that reminds him of tree rings or stained wood panels, muted like an old chinoiserie river painting.

“You could hire someone to change it out seasonally maybe, it’d be cool, but I think something like this would look nice with the color of the wood we picked for the tables—“

“Will you do it?” Carmy asks, fingertips tracing over the edge of the paper and coming away brushed with color—oil pastels. “Could you, I mean, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it like this.” He tells you, rubbing the tips of his fingers together and watching the color meld together before meeting your eye.

Your mouth is parted, eyes wide as you look at him, and he gets the urge to flick your bottom lip to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

“I,” you start to say, “Yeah. I can do it. If you want me to.”

“I do,” he says, too quickly. “Want you to. Paint it.”

Because what else would he be asking you to do? He wants to throw his entire brain into the blender on high.

“Okay,” you say, “I’ll start tomorrow.”

He makes a mental note to make sure he’s there all day to peer through the windows and watch you work.

[scarlethexelove]

To Hell And Back

Pairing: Angel!Wanda x Demon!Reader

Word Count: 1485

Warnings: Kidnapping (Wanda), Demon!Ex, Stabbing (Non descriptive), Torture (Non descriptive), Reader beating the shit out of Demon!Ex, Angst, Comfort, Uhhh idk

Pt 1, Prequal

A/n: More Angel!Wanda and Demon!Reader say what. This is what would happen if Wanda is kidnapped and taken to Hell. Reader goes a bit crazy. Thank you again to @wandamaximoffsbadgirl indulging in my love for these 2. Honestly I got a little lazy and used a gif.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You knew something was wrong when you hadn't heard from Wanda all day. Then, it came through an unknown number. A picture of Wanda, tied up, beaten, and in hell. All of the air in your lungs escapes when you see her. What was once beautifully white and soft, her wings dirtied with blood and dirt. You can feel the rage building within you. You had to go find her. Your tail and horns coming out. Your tail flicks back and forth as your eyes shift to a cold blue. You don't think as you march out of your home. 

You know a hidden portal is situated just a few miles from your home. You take off running as fast as you can in the direction of the portal. Leafs crunch under your feet as you make your way through the woods until you reach a cave. The cave is damp and musty and mostly dark until you see the flickering light of the portal. You take no time jumping through.

As you come out the other side, you look around, getting your bearings. You know this place. It may have been hundreds of years since you've seen it, but it's familiar. You pull your phone out and examine the photo again. Hoping a second look gives you a clue on where in hell Wanda could be. You look but it looks the same as any other part of hell, bleak and dreary. You give up on looking at the photo and instead start searching. You felt your blood boiling over and it wasn't from the heat.

Anger that you suppressed for hundreds of years hidden underneath the surface. You stalk through the area looking for any sign of Wanda. The underworld is vast with many twists and turns. It soon feels like you have been searching for hours. Hope is dwindling. What if you never find Wanda? What if you're too late? 

You feel like you'll never find her when you feel it, feel her. You spin in the direction you're being pulled and run, faster than you thought possible. The feeling gets stronger the closer you get. The anger that had been growing slowly morphs into relief. You can feel her. You can still feel her. Your body collides with the door where the pull is the strongest. The door shatters as you stumble through.

When you see her, you can feel the rage bubbling over. You shift your focus to the demon in the room. Eyes narrowing and head tilting to the side. Of course it was your ex. She always hated you for leaving all this behind, and getting together with Wanda must have been her final straw. Without so much as a thought, you lunge at her. She's able to dodge you. You turn on your heels. Your eyes flash that cold blue. “Delphine.” You growl. This time, you're quicker as you're able to tap into all the rage you've consumed. Your body collides with hers, sending her flying into the far wall. 

Delphine seems to be knocked out, giving you the chance to run to Wanda. “Wands.” Your voice cracks. Her eyes shift to yours. She looks up at you, battered and bruised. “You must have put up one hell of a fight, angel.” You gently stroke your thumb of a bruise on her cheek. 

“Wasn't gonna let some shitty demon just take me.” Wanda smirks at you, another wince coming out.

“Let's get you down, baby.” You can still feel the rage just below the surface, but your Wanda is more important. You're able to release Wanda, catching her in your arms before she collapses. 

“Y/n watch out!” Wanda yells. You catch a glimpse of Delphine out of the corner of your eye. You're able to push Wanda out of the way before feeling a sharp pain in your back. 

You cough up blood. The rage fueling you once again, your voice deepening. “You never did know when to quit.” You turn quickly, getting into it with Delphine. Blows exchanged as you manage to get on top. Keeping her down. Your hand wraps around her throat as you start to use your grip on her throat to slam her head into the ground. But her hand is able to snake around, digging her finger into the wound. You cry out in pain, giving her a chance to gain control again. 

“You're mine.” Delphine seethes.

“You're fucking insane if you think I'm yours. I wasn't even yours when we were together!” You spit back at her. The white hot pain from your wound screaming at you. Your fist connects with her face. A bloody sinister grin spreads across her face. Which sends you into a rage. You continue to land blow after blow. She isn't able to stop you. Your eyes flicker from blue to red. Wanda watches as the tips of your horns and tails start to stain black. 

Wanda doesn't think about it as she runs forward. “Y/n!” She practically crashes into you. “Stop, please...this isn't you...you aren't like these demons. Don't let them take that from you.” You looked back at her over your shoulder. You see the tears run down her face, voice cracking. “Please Y/n…”

The sight of your tail passes in your vision. The blackened tip paired with Delphine coughing up blood terrifies you.  You crawl back getting as far away from Wanda and Delphine. Tears spring to your eyes as you look down. Your hands stained red start to shake. “No! No! No! No!” Panic fills your voice, the tears that threatened to fall now cascading down your cheeks. This isn't you. This is everything you didn't want to be. You worked so hard to not be This. To be like them. You wanted to help people not hurt...you certainly didn't want to kill anyone.

“Detka?” Wanda moves closer to you, you shake your head. 

“N-No, get away from me. I-I don't want to hurt you.” Your voice breaks as you pull your knees to your chest. You wrap your arms around yourself as you continuously mutter, I'm sorry. Wanda's heart absolutely breaks seeing you like this. Even though you've told her to get away, that's the last thing she's about to do. Instead she pulls you into a hug, her wings coming out to wrap around you just like your first date. 

You sob into Wanda's chest as she holds you. You should be the one comforting her, but here you are. She shushes you as she holds you tight. She watches as the black slowly fades back to white. “I'm sorry Wands.” You choked out, and she shushes you. 

“No detka it's okay. What just happened is different. You were protecting me. If it meant protecting you I'd do the same thing.” Wanda tells you. You sniffle as you look up at her. Though beaten and bruised, she is still the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. She sees how your eyes shift back to blue before they go back to your normal color. 

Before the words come out of your mouth, Wanda blasts Delphine back in a white light. She hits the wall hard, knocking her unconscious or at least that is what you think. Wanda lifts you in her arms, letting her wings spread out. “Let's go home detka.”

“I'm the one who should be carrying you.” You whine a little. 

Wanda chuckles and then winces slightly. “Sweetheart, you've been stabbed. Also, I don't see you with any wings.” You pout, thinking about it, and grumble a bit. “That's what I thought.” Wanda flapped her wings. “You're gonna have to guide me back, though.” Wanda says with a smirk. You giggle a bit before getting both of you out of hell. 

By the time you're home both of you are exhausted. Wanda obviously fusses over getting you patched up first, having seen the blood stain on her wings. When she is done she finally lets you help her before you both get cleaned up. Crawling into bed and curling up together. 

You end up falling asleep first. Wanda lets her wing stay around you, propped up on her side. She gently strokes your face, moving some hair out of the way. She kisses your forehead, letting her lips linger there. “I love you so much, my little devil.” She pulls back to look at the peaceful look on your face. "I'd kill anyone who dared stand between us. God or Satan couldn't stop me. If it meant keeping you with me, I'd do it without a second thought.” She strokes your cheek. 

Wanda uses her wings to pull you closer, wrapping her arms around you tightly. Her wings provide a safe cocoon as she settles in. Soon she follows you into the land of dreams. Peacefully drifting off holding you tight.

[xblackreader]

so which of you richonners is gonna write the sydcarmy zombie apocalypse au fic?

because… we need that

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Once a nerd, forever a nerd. Bonus:

Shitpost of the day: ✅✅✅

[skylessknights]

AU: Valentine's Day is just around the corner and our beloved chefs are brainstorming romantic dishes for The Bear's upcoming menu. However, unbeknownst to Sydney, Carmy has another plans in mind for the romantic holiday...

[miredball]

THE BEAR social media part 9: white boy and his finsta

[gyaru-tau]

I've started cooking up an au for hardcore!phil where instead of getting rescued by Kristin after his first flight he instead gets "rescued" by the ender king, who teleported him into the end kinda by mistake. This was the design for him i was gonna use but since this is technically for an au of this au i might make a more concrete one. More about this under the cut since i'm very normal about it.

This is kinda set in a version of hardcore where Enderpookie um! won. The end was never flooded, he slowly took more and more and became more and more powerful until he was able to take control of the other deities (all except kristin but that's a whole nother can of worms) as a means to survey the other realms and determine what to put his focus on and take over to the end.

But at this point, he's managed to collect so much from the other worlds despite their endless size (i imagine it being a wasteland not too dissimilar to 2b2t aesthetically, at least in the way where spawn is desolate but the further out you go the more life you see return to the land), that he's kinda grown bored of the same old resources. He wants something new to claim as his own!

He begins experimenting with focusing his power to other multiverses (called servers since i like getting meta-contextual to an extent but in the way that the end poem is meta-contextual) due to having become powerful enough, and it's through his first attempt that he teleports hc!phil into the end by complete accident, right as he's doing his leap of faith.

I'm still kinda fuzzy on this part so bear with me but basically after some back and forth Phil and Ender king make a deal. Ender King will give Phil the wings he's always wanted in exchange for Phil being used as an accomplice for petty theft, essentially. Ender King can teleport stuff to him but he can also do the opposite, so he starts teleporting Phil to other servers so that Pookie can do his usual surveillance thing like he does with the other deities, decide where to concentrate his power, and then steal from those worlds and back into hardcore.

he also allows Phil to "return" to hardcore through his dreams but in my mind its in a much more foggy and- for a lack of a better word "dreamlike" state and Ender king can do the same. He does it by possessing Phil outright, or appearing as either a headless crow thing or a secret other thing that I'm yet to design but I am very insane about, depending on the context. Just know that the crow is what manifests when he's trying to coerce Phil through being "friendly".

anyway I will. probably talk more about this once i have more art of it/if people ask nicely which please do stick your hands in the bars of my enclosure i promise you i am very sane and nromal

[coypaw]

shark ghoap 🦈. 💀 🧼

[g3othermal3scapism]

highschool au sydcarmy r my kids btw. theyre very important to me

[astcae]

i have an "what if victors first attempt at becoming an EO worked" AU, and it's hilarious to me how it's basically about victor living his dream life (or as close to a "dream life" you can realistically get) - he's recognised as one of world's greatest neurosurgeons, he got married to eli sometime after he finished university, his parents are now seen as unreliable hypocrits (an anniversary gift from eli, btw), he adopted sydney (more or less legally, beacuse of EON shenanigans) and all three of them are living in a big beautiful house in the outskirts of merit - all the while eli wakes up every morning just to get vivisected at work.

[xblackreader]

#STREETS Chapter 7 is up and active!

The Date 🍷 Enjoy

[madaemfleuurr]

Angel Barrett