#the denim look is just *chef's kiss*

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit

word count: 4.1k

summary: joel agrees to go out to tommy’s favorite bar, where he watches you ride a mechanical bull and wishes you would ride him.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, no defined reader age or physical appearance besides outfits, alcohol use, joel getting slapped, tommy is a little shit, first date anxiety, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, girl on top, couch sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, deep throating, more men whimpering and begging 2k23. let me know if any warnings are missing!

author’s note: look, i know i’m in the middle of my spooky specials but i saw two very specific tik toks that left me with the need to write this 😵‍💫 also this post layout is inspired by @bits-and-babs, whose works and aesthetic are chef’s kiss.

“Why did you pick this place?” Joel grumbles, hand wrapped around a sweating bottle of beer. People keep jostling him as they squeeze past, forcing him to keep his elbow tight to his side to avoid having his beer be collateral damage.

“You’ll see,” Tommy says with a cryptic wink. Joel rolls his eyes.

Tommy has dragged him out to a saloon style bar, complete with swinging wooden doors and longhorn skulls decorating the walls. Everything is shiny dark wood and western motif, down to the saddle style barstools. Most of the patrons have leaned into the theme, too — tassels, leather, cowboys hats, and ostentatious belt buckles.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen!” A man’s voice calls out over the speakers. “The show is about to begin!”

“Show?” Joel asks dubiously. Tommy only grins at him, dragging him by the arm towards the back of the bar.

He weaves through the crowd until they’re only behind a few rows of people that have gathered around a mechanical bull riding ring, of all things. The floor of the ring is inflatable and in the middle sits the brown bull figure. Joel catches his first glimpse of you, a gorgeous woman in denim cut offs standing beside the bull. Your black leather halter top plunges low to expose your cleavage and stops short of the waist of your shorts, a tantalizing strip of your stomach on display. The black leather of the top matches your black leather boots and the cuffs snapped around your wrists.

“One of Salty Saloon’s very own has stepped up to take the bull by the horns tonight!”

You lift a hand to wave, bright smile on your face as you take in the crowd. Your eyes land on Joel and for a brief moment he swears he stops breathing. He can’t hear anything the emcee is saying, all the noise around him just a dull buzz as he watches you swing yourself up onto the back of the bull.

“Alright, alright, alright! Our rider’s goal is to stay on for one minute using only one hand! If she falls before the buzzer, y’all get nothin’. But if she makes it, shots are half off for the rest of the night!”

A cacophony of cheers erupts around Joel and you straighten your spine, holding your hand out with a thumbs up. The music starts, some pop song he’s heard on the radio in the morning when he’s taking Sarah to school, and the mechanical bull turns in a slow circle. You have one hand twisted in a leather strap, the other raised above your head as the bull bucks and swings, your hips moving smoothly with the machine.

“Goddamn,” someone says from behind Joel. “I ain’t ever wanted to be a bull so bad in my life.”

Me, too, he thinks.

Your thighs press tight against the sides of the bull as it swings around, turning you to face the section of crowd Joel stands in. You release the hand grip, both hands in the air now as you rely solely on your legs and core to keep you up on the machine. When the machine turns again, you manage to lift your body and swing your legs around to reverse your position, now seated facing the back of the bull.

“Alright, ten more seconds!” The emcee calls out. The crowd starts to cheer your name and Joel can’t help but join in, eyes glued to you as you continue to swing and sway like all the movements are nothing but second nature to you.

“Three! Two! One!”

A cowbell goes off, signaling the end of your ride. The bull slows to a stop and you sit there for a moment to catch your breath, waving at the crowd. The bar owner, Johnny, comes out onto the crash pad with a huge grin on his face.

“Great job up there, kid. Now go sell some half priced shots,” he says with a good natured pat on your shoulder.

You return to the bar, where the other two bartenders scheduled tonight field the after-show rush, lining up shot glasses and filling them in quick succession with the requested liquor. When you get behind the bar, a familiar head of curly hair catches your eye.

“Tommy!” You call, excited to see one of you favorite regulars. He shouts your name as you stop in front of him.

“This is my brother, Joel!” He says, slapping the back of the man beside him. You’d seen him in the crowd, a handsome guy with broad shoulders stretching a dark blue t-shirt, warm tan skin, and messy curls that speak to the family resemblance between him and Tommy. You reach a hand across the bar, Joel’s calloused fingers dragging against your palm as you greet the man.

“It’s nice to meet you, Joel. Can I get y’all anything?” You ask. Tommy grins.

“Let me get this man a slap shot!” He yells.

You glance at Joel. “That okay with you?” You ask.

His eyes are comically wide as he nods. You step back to ring the bell behind the bar, your fellow bartenders whooping and cheering, a chant of “SLAP SHOT! SLAP SHOT!” echoing around you.

Haley sets a glass of water on the bar for you and you grab a pint glass, filling it with ice and two ounces of Jim Beam and amaretto. You smack the steel shaker on top, grabbing both glasses and shaking them vigorously over your shoulder.

You strain the contents of the shaker into a shot glass, amber liquid flowing to the brim. When you’ve got everything ready, you leave the back of the bar and squeeze your way through the crowd until you’re in front of the two brothers and can hoist yourself up onto the bar.

“Alright, Joel, are you ready?” You shout. He looks a little confused, brows pinched tight over kind brown eyes, but he nods anyway, holding his hand out for the shot glass. Tommy watches with a shit eating grin. “Three! Two! One!”

Joel takes the shot and you follow it with a glass of water to his face and a slap across his jaw in quick succession. Tommy is howling with laughter and Joel’s face is one of pure shock, red blooming across the skin of his cheek. He turns to his brother.

“Tommy, what the fuck!” Joel shouts. His hand wraps into the neck of Tommy’s shirt. “You little fuckin’ shit!”

You have the sinking realization that Joel wasn’t prepared for what a slap shot entails. You had just assumed this was something Tommy had told him about, having been to the bar so much the last few months.

Joel looks mad as hell, his shoulders tense and you worry he may actually throw a punch at Tommy. You hop from the bar and get between the two men, pressing a hand to their chests and pushing them apart.

"You, come with me," you say, pointing to Joel. "And you," -- you jab a finger into Tommy's chest -- "are on my shit list."

You take Joel by the hand and guide him to the back office, shutting the door and muffling the noises of the bar beyond it. His face is still dripping wet and the water dripping from his chin has gathered into a sizeable spot on the collar of his shirt.

"I am so, so sorry," you start, rifling through the storage cabinet for a bar towel. You hold it out to him, avoiding his gaze. "Tommy comes here so much that I just thought he'd told you about what a slap shot was. I should have told you, oh my god."

"Hey, it's okay. I ain't mad at you," Joel says, running the towel over his damp face. "Tommy, though. I'm gonna kick his fuckin' ass later."

"Still," you mumble, twisting your hands together nervously. "I'm sorry. Is your cheek okay?"

He rubs the towel over his head to dry his hair a bit, the action leaving him adorable mussed, curly strands sticking up in every direction. You're staring at him, maybe a little too much, but who can blame you? The man is hot.

"Yeah, trust me. I've had worse," Joel replies with a laugh.

"You get slapped by women often?" You tease.

"The number of times ain't just one."

"Oh, a bad boy. Mama warned me about guys like you."

He laughs again, long and low, running a hand through his hair. "Well, thank you for the towel."

"Right. And your next drink is on me. As an apology," you tell him.

"I'd rather get your number," he says. "You know, as an apology."

You raise your eyebrows at him before turning to the manager's desk, grabbing a marker and tugging the cap off with your teeth. You slide a hand down his arm, lifting his forearm up so that you can write down your number across the smooth, tan skin.

"I'm off next weekend," you comment when you've recapped the marker.

"I'll keep that in mind," Joel replies with a grin.

Joel's nervous as he waits outside of your apartment building in his truck, fingers tapping a nameless tune against the steering wheel. It's Saturday night and he's here to pick you up for dinner at a restaurant in downtown Austin, one that required he dig out the old black button down he keeps shoved in the back of his closet for parent-teacher conferences and funerals.

The front door to your building opens and you emerge, dressed in a pretty red wrap dress and black heels. Joel gets out of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side to open the door for you and he's surprised when you lean up and kiss him on the cheek.

"Hey," you say in greeting, climbing into the truck and settling into the passenger seat, your purse on your lap. Joel can't help the dopey grin that's surely stretched across his face.

“Hey, yourself. You look nice,” he replies. He shuts the door and jogs around the the driver’s side.

“You don’t look so bad either,” you tell him as he starts the truck up. He can feel his cheeks get warm and he hopes that you can’t see him the proof of his nerves in the dark cab.

At the restaurant, the host leads you both to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, pristine white tablecloth topped with a small vase of flowers and a flickering votive candle. A waiter in a white button down comes by to take your drink orders before disappearing the the kitchen, leaving the two of you regarding each other in silence.

“Look, I gotta be honest about somethin’,” Joel says, leg bouncing beneath the table. “I’ve got a kid. Sarah, she’s thirteen. Light of my life, you know?” He takes a deep breath before finishing with, “And I don’t think I’ve even been on a date since she’s been born, so this is just…a little new to me.”

“You have a kid?” You ask. For a moment Joel worries that he may have ended this before it could even get a chance to begin, but then your face lights up with a sweet smile and you ask, “Will you tell me about her?”

Joel does. In between ordering and eating your delicious meals, you and Joel discuss anything and everything. He tells you about Sarah and his contracting work, while you tell him about your full time job as a pharmacy technician, the gig at the bar a part time thing on some weekends. He nearly makes you snort your water out of your nose with a story about rescuing Tommy from the bathroom of the girl he’d been seeing when her long distance boyfriend, who Tommy didn’t know existed, showed up at her apartment.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim breathlessly. “And he just jumped out of the bathroom window?”

“To be fair, she had a first floor unit,” Joel confirms. “His royal pain in the ass still made me take him to urgent care because he thought he broke his ankle.”

“You’re a good brother,” you say with a smile. Joel feels the warmth of it in his veins.

After dinner, the ride back to your place is quiet, the comfortable silence filled with the low music from the radio. In a moment of bravery, Joel reaches over and lays a hand on your low thigh, just above your knee as he drives. He refuses to look over at you, but from the corner of his eye he sees you look down at his hand before looking back out the window.

He counts that as a win.

He pulls up the curb outside your apartment and kills the engine. You speak before he has a chance to agonize over what to say.

“Will you walk me to my door?” You ask.

He feels relief and anxiety in one fell swoop. He agonizes internally over whether to kiss you goodnight as he follows you up the stairs to your apartment, the buzzing in his brain momentarily silenced while he watches your hips sway as you climb the steps.

You stop on the second floor, guiding him down a long hallway to a door marked with a black metal number three. You turn to face him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“This is me,” you murmur. Joel swallows nervously.

“Right. I, uh…I had a really great time tonight,” he says.

“Would you…want to come inside?”

Joel’s brain short circuits. “Would I—? Yeah.”

You turn to unlock the door, pushing into your apartment and Joel follows you inside. The apartment is dark but you quickly turn on the lights as you move further inside, illuminating an open living room with a dining nook. There’s a door off to the right that he assumes is your bedroom and an open kitchen to the left. It’s small, but it’s cozy, bursting with colors and fabrics and mismatched furniture.

“Well, this is home,” you say with a shrug. You set your purse down on the small circular dining table. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got beer, some liquor on the bar cart over there if you want to have a look.”

“Beer is fine,” Joel says, taking a seat on the comfy looking couch. You return with a bottle of beer, passing it to him before settling in beside him, kicking off your heels and drawing your legs up beneath you.

He takes a sip, fortifying his nerves. He wasn’t lying when he said it’s been a long time since he’s been on a date, but even sex has been a distant thought for the last year or so. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

“So,” you start, your elbow pressed into the back couch cushion while you lean your face into the palm of your hand. “You wanna know what I think?”

“‘Bout what?” Joel asks.

“You.”

“You got a report card ready for me already?”

“I think” — you take the beer bottle from his hand, setting it on the coffee table — “you’ve spent a long time being a caretaker. Right? You’ve got Tommy, who was already a handful. Your daughter, who’s obviously priority number one. You’ve got a business to worry about, workers to care for.” You shuffle closer on your knees, swinging a leg over his and settling yourself onto his lap. “This okay?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he replies, probably a bit too enthusiastically. His fingers curl into the couch cushions and he wants to reach up to wrap his hands around your waist but he’s not sure if he should.

You play with the collar of his shirt. “What do you think about having someone take care of you for a change?”

Joel’s stomach flips, cock jumping in interest as the blood in his brain rushes south and leaves him only capable of responding with a mumbled, “Oh?”

“I just think you deserve someone treating you real nice,” you say with a shrug. Deft fingers work at undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Especially when I was so mean when we met, slapping you across the face like I did.”

“Told you not to worry ‘bout that,” he replies, head dropping against the back cushions. “S’not like I didn’t like it.”

“You like to be roughed up a little, Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe.”

Your grin is wicked as you drag your nails down the now exposed skin of his chest. He hisses at the sting of it.

“Interesting,” you murmur. You lean close, chest pressed against his, hands coming up to frame his face. Your nails scratch through his beard now and he groans his appreciation.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. “Please?”

You respond by pressing your lips to his, chaste as first. Your mouths move together slowly, feeling each other out. It’s you that takes it deeper, tracing your tongue over his bottom lip and dipping it inside to tangle with his. He wraps his arms around your low back, holding you tightly in his lap as he consumes you, drunk on the feeling of your breath in his lungs.

You drags yours lips away from his with a slick sound, trailing them along his jaw and towards his ear. You nip at his earlobe, teeth gentle and breath hot before whispering, “Can I suck your cock, Joel?”

A whimper claws it’s way up Joel’s throat as he nods, already unable to form words. He’s no stranger to turning into a puddle for a pretty woman but he’s certain this must be a new record.

You slip from his lap and kneel on the floor, pushing his legs apart so that you can settle in between them. Your hands reach for his belt, tugging on the buckle and pulling it loose so that you can pop the button of his jeans and tug the zipper down, the metallic sound loud in the quiet room.

Your fingers curl into the waist of his jeans and Joel lifts his hips a bit to aid you in tugging them halfway down his thighs. His cock tents his boxers in an obscene way, a wet spot already staining the fabric. You run your palms up his thighs before bracketing his member between your hands, lightly running your thumbs up his length.

“Christ,” Joel says, teeth digging into his lip.

“That feel good?” You ask.

“Uh huh.”

You smile beatifically before leaning forward, warm breath on his covered cock as you press gentle kisses through the fabric. Joel’s hips twitch and he lets out a deep groan.

You tug the elastic of his boxers over his length, tucking it beneath his balls. He’s practically vibrating with need but you continue to take your sweet time, pressing more kisses along his shaft, tracing the tip of your tongue over the prominent vein.

“You have a pretty cock, Joel,” you say, wrapping your hand around the base of him to hold him steady. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t want to miss the sight of your tongue lapping at the bead of precum gathered on his flushed tip, or the way your own eyes flutter shut as you let out a little moan of appreciation.

You wrap your lips around his cock, taking him inch by agonizing inch into your warm mouth and Joel feels any semblance of sanity disappear from his lust clouded brain. Your eyes stay fixed on him as take him in as far as you can, throat fluttering around the sensitive head when you swallow before pulling up, twirling your tongue around the tip, and plunging back down.

“Christ,” Joel groans, reaching out to cup your cheek. “You look so goddamn good like that.”

You lift off his cock and take it in your hand, moving it across your lips as you ask, “Like what?”

“Chokin’ on my cock, sweetheart,” he growls.

“That was nothing.”

Joel’s about to ask what you mean when you lower your mouth over his length once more. He can feel you flatten your tongue, your throat and jaw relaxing enough to take him to the very base, your nose tickling the wiry curls on his pelvis. He moans as you swallow around him, breathing through your nose and holding yourself there for a moment before coming up with a gasp, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and spit making your chin shiny in the low light.

“So…I could keep doing this,” you tell him, “or…”

“Or?” He asks.

“Or…you could let me make us both feel good.”

You stand up, your hands untying the knot that holds your dress together so you can push it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. You push your panties down your legs and unhook your bra, leaving you gloriously naked in front him, every inch of you like a piece of art meant to be admired. Joel’s hands, greedy and unfulfilled up until now, reach up to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, your pussy hot and wet against his cock. He lets his hands wander over every inch of exposed skin, relishing the way your ass fits in his palms and the way you hiss when his thumb caresses a tight nipple.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he moans, his lips against your rapid pulse, teeth ghosting the thin skin of your neck. “Need you so bad, baby.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies to hold his throbbing cock steady, notching it at your soaked entrance and beginning a slow slide down.

Joel is panting against your sweat slick chest, mumbling desperate words into your skin as you take him inside of you as slowly as you can, thighs burning with the effort. When you’ve finally seated yourself on his lap, his head drops back to the cushion, eyes squeezed shut tightly and fingers nearly bruising on your thighs.

“Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,” he begs. “Oh, fuck, feels so good.”

Where he’s desperate for you to stay still, you’re already desperate to move. His cock is perfect, thick and long with a slight upward curve, pressing up against your g-spot with stunning accuracy. You’re certain this won’t last long for either of you.

You rock slowly, forward and back, little movements of your hips. Joel lifts his head, looking down at where your bodies are connected with dark eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in his hair and giving it a sharp tug that has him hissing your name.

You start to move more quickly, rolling your body in smooth waves over his. He’s panting as he looks up at you, sweat gathering at his temple, and his hands grip your ass and follow your movement reverently.

“So fuckin’ good,” he moans, “you’re gonna make me come, baby, goddamn.”

You speed up, bouncing on his lap now. Your couch creaks the slightest bit, protesting your movements, but you don’t care — all you care about is the man beneath you and the desperate little noises spilling from his lips as you make good on your promise to take care of him.

“Touch me,” you command. “I’m so close, Joel, please.”

He’s a good listener, your Joel, his thumb immediately finding your clit and circling it with messy movements that drive you wild, that tension in your muscles coiling tighter. Joel’s hips flex into yours with each drop down his length, the room echoing with the lewd sounds of skin against skin and the chorus of whimpers that spill from both of you.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant. He wraps his arms around you, really thrusting into you now as your own movements falter and you collapse forward, head buried against his neck as you come, trembling with the strength of it.

It’s not long after that he goes still, cock pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks of your orgasm wash over you. You stay slumped against each other, catching your breaths and waiting for your racing hearts to come back down to earth.

“That was…,” Joel says with a breathless laugh that shakes his chest. His fingers play up and down your back, soothing and gentle. “Goddamn, that was amazin’.”

“Yeah?” You ask, lifting your head. You smooth his messy hair back from his forehead. “You weren’t so bad either.”

He nips at your neck in retaliation, making you laugh and squirm away from him.

“Do you have to get going?” You ask.

“No,” he replies. “Tommy’s watchin’ Sarah for me tonight. He owes me one. Besides, I’m ain’t done with you yet.”

“No?”

“Not even close, darlin’.”

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

[thesassypadawan]

Puck Slut 2 (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: It’s yours and Hayden’s favorite time of the nhl season, when your teams faceoff against one another. And, as usual, you two have a bet in place, loser pays for the tab. Along with yet another interesting little twist…squeeze and tease.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Hockey, fingering, public sex, and, as always…Hayden’s big dick.

Notes: Hope you lovelies also enjoy Puck Slut .5, Puck Slut 1, and Puck Slut 3.5!

*Pregame*

- First of all, no hockey game would be complete without tasty food and ice-cold drinks. Especially when they’re being enjoyed at someone’s favorite sports bar.

- “I’m surprised you picked here; thought you hated their wings.” Hayden says with a small smirk, taking the drinks from your hands.

- “I do, worst I’ve ever had.” You’d reply all sassily, playfully smacking the brim of his hat. “But you like them and…I figured they’d help lessen the blow when the Leafs lose.”

- Gives your shorts a tug, pulling you down into the booth beside him. “Oh, yeah? We’ll see who’s picking up the tab later.”

- Rolling your eyes; you reach for a nacho, making sure you push them tities against his arm. “Come on, we both know you were going to do it either way.”

- You bet Hay’s going to give your nipple a small tweak for that one. Snatching your chippy the second you squeak and jump. Stupid moose.

- But then he’s all cute and smooth, wrapping his arm around you…resting his head on top of yours. “So, should we make things interesting again?”

- Besides getting to drink to your heart’s content while spending a night out with your man… All right, you’ll play along. “Sure. What dirty idea do you have in mind?”

*Game Time*

- Normally you’d really be into the game. Cheering, hollering, cursing, the whole nine yards. But it’s kind of difficult to do so when your team hasn’t made a single goal and…his big hand was cupping your pussy underneath the table, yours palming his dick.

- Neither of you were allowed to move or try to stimulate yourself. Those were the rules. Only when your boys scored, did you get to be ‘squeezed and teased’.

- The third period had just started with the Leafs up by two. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy ‘squeezing and teasing’ Hayden; those stifled groans, chef’s kiss. It was just…you wanted a turn too, dammit.

- Unfortunately, you do have to wait long. In fact, it isn’t until about five minutes left in the game that the siren finally went off once, twice…and you could feel his finger press softly down.

- A smirk crosses his face, and he chuckles in your ear. “Two? Back-to-back? You’re in for one hell of a ride, angel.”

- Kissing your cheek innocently, he starts to slowly grind his palm against your little cunt. Kneading it so good, that thumb circling your clit through the denim perfectly. Even giving it a hard pinch…you force back a moan when he did so.

- You’re growing wetter and wetter. Whole body heating up, walls fluttering like cray. Just as you’re really getting into it, hips rocking and everything. The buzzer rings and… “End of third; looks like we’re heading to OT.” …Hay stops, pulling his hand out from in-between your squishy pillows.

*Overtime*

- “Bullshit.” You’d sit there, pouting and huffing. Legs shut tightly together; rubbing them desperately, trying to get the sweet friction back. “What now, Mountie Boy?”

- Flashing you that damn panty dropping smile. Hayden pulls your into his lap, placing you right on top of his huge bump. “We up the ante. Winner gets to ask the loser to do one thing…no objections.”

- Wiggling excitedly, you can’t help but grin yourself. A wicked request coming to mind. “Okay…bet. Anything else?”

- “Yeah, let’s have a shootout.” Wrapping a strong arm around your waist, he ruts against your booty. “First to ‘shoot’ has to pay for dinner too.” Hand sliding up your thigh, the hem of your shorts. “Deal?” Fingers slip under your panties, dipping into…

- You let out a small squeal, hands gripping the table. While Hay’s thick digits pump steadily, thumb pushing down hard… “D-deal.”

*Postgame*

- As soon as OT begins, it basically ends. Literally, not even three minutes in and the final buzzer rings out. With neither of you ‘shooting’ and the Leafs coming out on top.

- Hayden can’t drag you out of the booth fast enough. Down the dimly lit hallway. Into the cramped bathroom. Bent over the dinky sink. Panties and shorts around your ankles. “Cashing in your ask already.”

- Cock pressed to your lower back, he mutters smugly while looking at you in the mirror. “You know it. Now on your tiptoes, we got to move quick.”

- Nodding, you eagerly do like he says. Biting your lip as you watch him still have to slouch a bit to line up. Impressive length running between your soaked folds, coating himself thoroughly.

- He only teases for a moment before he’s slamming into you. Hands gripping your hips firmly, yanking you back to meet each powerful thrust. Your sensitive bud grinding into the cold surface of the cracked porcelain, making you whimper and mewl.

- Hooking an arm under your breasts, he hauls your upper body up. Fucking you fast and deep. Bullying and bruising your poor cervix with every bounce. The sound of skin slapping fills the small space, along with your combined pants and grunts. “So wet…so tight. Such a good little puck slut. Going to…”

- “…cum!” That got you clenching hard, gummy walls flexing and squeezing around him. Moans flying from your lips as you crash completely, gushing all over. Followed by him letting out a low growl, painting your insides white. Bucking weakly while he comes down from his high.

- Once your feet are flat on the floor again. Hay pulls you against his chest, tucking you easily under his chin. “About that tab?”

- You bust out in a fit of giggles, swatting his arm playfully. “Yeah, yeah…let me at least get my shorts back on first.”

*Post Postgame*

- You don’t know how, but not only are you able to stand…you can also still walk. Plus, you two ended up managing to not get caught.

- So there you are, leaning on the bar rail. Impatiently tapping your card, waiting to settle the tab. While his cum slowly leaks out of you.

- Hay comes up behind, sporting a cocky grin. Pressing into you, one hand rests on your butt and the other reaches over your head…passing the bartender his card instead. “Don’t worry, I got it. Just make me breakfast tomorrow.”

- Shivering, you feel his sticky seed start to trickle down your leg and your lips turn up into a wicked smile. “Called it…totally knew you would.”

- You got a solid smack for that…worth it.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 7

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] Part 7: [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Angry Sex, Nightmares, Domesticity, Morning Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

Glimpses of every day life and sharing an apartment with Carmy.

"I'm sorry, okay? I am! I won't use your ingredients without asking- just- please calm the fuck down!"

Your small argument from closing time had escalated on the way home to the point where you were screaming at each other by the time you slammed the apartment door behind you and followed Carmy to the bedroom. You had fought before, of course you had. But this was probably the worst one so far.

Carmy stood on the opposite corner of the room, hands on his hips, breathing heavily.

"Do you know how fucking expensive imported black garlic is?"

"I don't, but I have the feeling you're going to tell me," you spat, petty, the whole sentence leaving a bitter taste inside your mouth. You backtracked."I'm sorry. I'll pay for it, okay?" you tried to appease him even as your blood was boiling. "Listen, when I moved in, I was ready to make some compromises. I downsized my closet, I sold some furniture-"

"I didn't ask you to do any of that," Carmy interrupted you.

"Carm," you gave him a stern look. "I'm only saying that you could be more understanding about shit like this. We share the fridge and the pantry. I'm sorry I assumed I could use the stuff inside without asking, it will not happen again," you repeated, then inhaled deeply. "Just- I can't help feeling this isn't about that."

Carmy looked red in the face, angry like you had only seen him inside the kitchen, pacing and flexing his fingers. You couldn't believe he was actually losing his shit so severely over a steak and some garlic - even if it was a super expensive steak and black garlic.

He looked at the ceiling. "It is about you touching my shit without asking. It is about you leaving your things on the kitchen table when I need it to work-" he clenched his jaw. "I'm sick and tired of not knowing where anything is in my own fucking apartment!"

You had organized the closet to fit your stuff, and  put Carmy's vintage denim and your bigger dresses in storage. You still had to get a desk for your sewing machine and work stuff, in the meantime it had stayed on the kitchen table, which, in your defense, had remained unused for most of your stay.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked in exasperation. "I've been living here for three weeks! You could have said something instead of bottling it up until it was-" you gestured vaguely in his direction, "whatever this is!"

"I like you being here, I didn't want to scare you off!" Carmy groaned.

"Carm, did you think I would leave if we didn't agree on where the shirts are supposed to go?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Dunno!"

"You can tell me things, Carm!" you crossed the room until he was close enough to touch. His eyes looked like the sky before a storm. "You can tell me anything."

"Then why are you so fucking mad?" he said defiantly.

"Because I don't like when you yell at me like I'm just another chef in your fucking kitchen," you said, it was something you had been keeping quiet since your fight started. "I'm not getting paid to put up with this shit."

It struck Carmy completely quiet. And you regretted it the moment it left your lips. You had almost found some middle ground and you had trampled all over it. He took a step closer and stared at you, his eyes dark and angry, the space between you felt charged.

Before you knew what was going on, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and kissed you roughly, biting on your lips, mouth wide open. You pressed on his chest with your hands - you were still too mad at him. But his hands were strong and his tongue was relentless and you could feel yourself getting wet from the mixture of anger and lust - and who knew those two emotions were so close to each other?

"Fuck, I can stop," he said, barely separating his lips from yours, breathing hard. "You want that?"

You pulled on his shirt, bringing him towards you, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Then, using that same grasp, you moved him to the edge of the bed and pushed him hard, his curls bouncing as he fell on his back.

"I want you to fucking apologize, Carmen," you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. You leaned over and trapped his wrists with your hands, above his head. Even putting all your strength into it, he could wiggle himself free at any moment, but he didn't; he stayed down and looked at you hungrily.

"I'm sorry," he said, a little too cocky for your taste, a smirk barely hidden on the side of his face.

You ground your hips against his, feeling his cock harden underneath you. He rolled his eyes and arched his neck. He looked beautiful, like a marble statue.

"What was that?" you asked, stopping your movement abruptly and getting close to his face.

He whined. "I'm sorry," and it sounded more truthful this time.

"Mhmm, that's more like it."

You kept holding both of Carmy's wrists with one hand, while the other moved downward, going underneath his shirt and playing with his nipple, massaging and pinching gently until he closed his eyes and hummed in bliss. Then you stopped.

"Fuck you," he said, letting out some leftover venom from your fight. 

You smirked - why was this so hot?

You got your answer immediately after, when Carmy got free and turned you over, fast and aggressive, like he rarely was in the bedroom. He caged you with his arms and legs, all taut muscle and shaking breaths.

"What about you?" he said, his voice low.

"What about me?" you tilted your head. "I apologized like ten times, Carm. And I meant it."

"You said some fucked up things just now," his breath tickled your face as he studied you from every angle, like he was a wild animal and you were his prey.

"I did," you admitted. You arched your neck, trying to get close and... What? Kiss him? Bite him? You weren't sure. He put one hand on your throat, not quite a caress, closing his tattooed fingers around it. You squeezed your thighs together, blood flowing with need. "I meant some of that too."

"Which part?"

"That I don't like when you yell at me," you said honestly, the moment a little cheapened with how horny you sounded.

"That all?" Carmy's voice had turned hoarse from screaming and you wished you didn't find it so attractive.

"Yeah," you exhaled.

"Good," he said dryly and got up, freeing you, but you remained immobile.

Suddenly, he yanked hard on your jeans and underwear, leaving you bare in seconds.

"Fuck, Carmy."

You hated how needy you sounded, how wrecked you felt as he licked his hand and finally put his fingers inside you, how good he was at making you crumble... You let out a pleading and pathetic sound as he touched your clit roughly and finger fucked you a little too hard.

Then, he took his fingers out without a warning, leaving you empty and out of breath; his hands ghosted the insides of your thighs. You grabbed at his wrist, begging to be touched again. Carmy climbed on the bed instead, hovering above you, kissing you ferociously.

"Eager?" he teased when you started raising your hips to rub on his jeans.

"Impatient," you replied, trying to wind him up.

It worked - his eyes darkened again.

"Hands above your head," he ordered and you obeyed. He took your shirt off carelessly, your bra was almost spilling out with how forceful he was being but he didn't bother taking it off. The whole thing was angry, urgent, and so fucking hot. Carmy was undoing his belt and you used the pause to scoot backwards, just enough to reach your bedside table.

"Hurry the fuck up!" You threw a condom at him, hitting him square on the face.

Carmy gave you a look that was half exasperation, half amused lust. He unbuttoned his jeans just enough to take his cock out, then threw the empty wrapper back at you. He grabbed your legs and dragged you closer, forcefully, the duvet wrinkling underneath you.

"I swear I'm gonna-"

You didn't let him finish. You fisted the collar of his t-shirt and brought him down to kiss, biting on his lower lip, then soothing with your tongue. You opened your legs wide and tugged at the belt loops of his jeans - there was something arousing about him being almost completely clothed and you being almost naked.

"Fuck me, please, fuck me," you begged into his mouth, way past any sense of pride you had at the beginning of the fight. Carmy wasn't any better, rushing to obey the moment you said it.

"Fucking need it," he groaned as he entered you. It wasn't clear if he was talking about you or him - not that you had time to think about it before he started pounding into you. You felt every inch of Carmy's cock as it went in and out.

"So fucking good," you rasped to the side of his face. It spurred him on and made him go faster and harder - your moans got louder and louder. He covered your mouth with his hand.

"The fucking mouth on you," he mumbled low. You clenched your pussy in retaliation and watched as he rolled his eyes and lost his rhythm. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me."

You ran your hands under his shirt, tracing the contour of his muscles, feeling them quiver and strain as Carmy tried his damnedest to keep going, one hand on the mattress and the other keeping you quiet. Part of you smiled in satisfaction knowing he was getting tired and wouldn't last.

"Shit. Fuck me," he whined and stopped for a moment, sweating and panting. He finally uncovered your mouth, conceding defeat.

"Want me to take over?" you asked with a chuckle.

Carmy sighed and fell on the mattress beside you. "Still mad at you," he said, the sound pitiful with how hard he was breathing.

"Good to know," you climbed on top of him, straddling, lowering yourself on his cock, making him arch his back with pleasure. "I'm still mad too."

You rode him mercilessly, your hips slamming against his, hands on his chest, his eyes marveling at the bounce of your breasts. You took him right to the edge and left him hanging, the veins of his neck bulging as he groaned in frustration.

You clicked your tongue, swaying gently. "Not coming until I do."

"Yeah?" he arched his eyebrows, taking the challenge for what it was.

His hand moved from gripping your hip to where your bodies connected, his thumb finding your clit and caressing it. Your legs shook involuntarily, a spark going through you.

He grinned.

"Oh, fuck you," you sighed, your neck arched, looking at the ceiling while you bounced on his cock. He knew just what he was doing - making you tremble and moan with every gentle touch.

"Come on," he urged you, meeting your thrusts, fucking into you, hitting your G spot almost by mistake.

"Fuck," you gasped, biting your lip to stop from screaming.

You rode him much faster, something desperate and feral taking over you. Carmy's eyes widened when your walls started fluttering around his cock.

"Are you-? Can I-?" he asked in a choked out voice.

"Yes, yes," you managed to say, squeezing the wrist of the hand that was touching your clit so deliciously as your orgasm started taking over every one of your senses. "Yes, Carmy."

He tensed underneath you, flushed all over, eyes closed, and his lips forming a beautiful 'O'. You stared, waiting patiently for him to open his eyes.

He looked up at you, soft, grateful, a smile curling his lips.

"C'mere," he beckoned you downwards, meeting you with relieved kisses, breathy laughter filling the space between you. He caressed your back, tugging on your bra straps until you were somewhat covered again. The tenderness of the gesture warmed you all over.

"You okay?" Carmy asked and you nodded, nuzzling your nose against his in the process. A pause. "Hey. I am sorry. I was angry and-"

"I know," you fixed his hair, all sweaty and sticking on his forehead. "I'm sorry too."

He kissed your shoulder lovingly.

"I like you being here," he said. "I just- I need time to figure it out. That okay?"

"Yeah," you traced the line of his nose with your finger. "We'll figure it out together, baby."

You kissed him sweetly and he rolled you over to your side.

"I'll go to the thrift store tomorrow," you said, cupping his face. "Buy a desk and shit."

Carmy smiled. "I'll fix the pantry. Put labels on my shit. Make room for your things."

"I think that's the most romantic thing you've said to me," you joked, giggling when he tickled your sides.

"Shut the fuck up!"

He laughed with you, leaving kisses on your face and throat.

~

You woke up to the sound of Carmy talking in his sleep. Most of it was gibberish, quiet mumbles as he thrashed on the bed, the one word you could make out was 'Mikey' - over and over. He winced and let out a pained sound. You got closer and held him, your arm across his chest.

You knew he had nightmares, you'd been there for a couple of them, but sleeping every night with him meant you saw much more of it. It broke your heart how many you had missed, how bad he hurt...

"It's okay, Carmy," you soothed softly. "I'm here, baby, it's okay."

He woke up with a startle, breathing fast.

"Fuck, sorry," he sat up and ran his hands over his face. "Bad dream."

"I know," you waited for him to settle, giving him space.

After a while, he laid back next to you. You moved slowly, gently, touching the side of his face and caressing his hair, calming him down.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh," Carmy looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard, "there was a fire. Just so much smoke," he cleared his throat. "And, uh, Mike was there." There was a long pause. "Did I ever tell you he planned to set the restaurant on fire?"

"What?" you froze.

He hummed. "To cash the insurance money, you know," he reached for your free hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing them close to his chest; his heart was pounding.

"I'm sorry, Carm," you waited for him to say something but he stayed silent, vacant. "It feels so weird that I never met him."

"Probably for the better, to be honest," he said dryly. There was something dark about the way he said it.

"Hey," you squeezed his hand, trying to ground him. "What'd you like about him?"

"About Mike?" he said looking at you. "Uh- He was warm. He told the best stories, took care of Nat and me, gave the best hugs... A real big brother, you know?"

You nodded.

"Started getting tattoos because of him," he said, flexing his hands to show the ink on them. "He was so cool, and I wanted to be that."

"I think you're pretty cool," you said sweetly, kissing his knuckles.

"Thanks," he said through a sad smile. "Richie says he was all wrong by the end of it..."

"Wrong how?"

"He wasn't warm anymore, he was, uh, like a fryer fire, I guess. His stories didn't make sense. Kept forgetting shit. A mess, you know?"

"Maybe that's why he pushed you away," you said softly. You knew Carmy felt guilty for his time in New York. "He wanted you to remember him like he was before."

"Maybe," he conceded, looking up at the ceiling.

You stayed like that for a while, caressing his arm, tracing lines on his skin.

"Would you-" he said, then stopped.

You turned to face him. "Yes?"

"Would you hold me?" Carmy asked, his blue eyes open and vulnerable.

"Of course," you smiled and shifted on the bed to spoon him, his back to your chest, your arms around him, leaving gentle kisses on his shoulder blade. You could feel his heartbeat settle as he went back to sleep.

"Love you, Carm," you said right before you drifted off.

~

You woke up to the feeling of Carmy kissing your face softly. You hummed, content. When you opened your eyes, the bright light of late morning was all over your bedroom.

"Didn't hear you coming in last night," you said, your voice raspy with sleep.

"Got in late. Bad day," he raised his hand to touch your hair, staring at the way it caught the light. "Nat forced me to take today off."

"That bad?" you asked, a little concerned.

Carmy moved his fingers to the worry lines on your face, soothing.

"Not really. Someone talked about work life balance in her last Al-family meeting and she's all about that shit right now," he smiled. You loved to see how he looked soft with sleep, relaxed for a little while.

"Have I told you I really like her?"

"You might have," he said playfully, then leaned over to kiss you. It was a gentle thing, his lips lazy on yours and his body flushed as he hugged you.

You took his shirt off, not out of lust, just wanting to get more warmth from his skin on yours. You slowly started kissing his tattoos. You liked the ones on his arms and hands; they were familiar, whenever you thought of Carmy it was the image you conjured. But you loved his other tattoos, the ones nobody else saw, the secrets he kept and only shared with you. You left kisses on his shoulder and his chest, running your fingers on the ink on his ribs and right above his hip bone.

"I've missed you, Carm," you confessed.

It had been a hectic couple of weeks. You had barely seen each other, mostly just sleeping on the same bed, saying good night and good morning before each of you left for work.

"Missed you too," he replied.

His hands roamed your body, tugging gently at the fabric of your sleep shirt, helping you out of it, all while kissing you. You melted in his arms, pliant as he rolled you over and started leaving pecks on your skin.

"Carmy," you sighed. His lips left imprints on your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and your chest. He stayed there, kissing the top of your breasts, the side, the valley between them, and your nipples. Your pulse was racing and you wondered whether he could feel it with his mouth.

"You're so soft," he said, his exhale giving you goosebumps. "Smell so nice."

"You smell nice too, baby," you giggled. Carmy's hair still had a lavender-like scent from his night shower.

"Mmm..."

He kept kissing. Your belly, your hip, the wrinkle that formed between your mound and your thigh. There was something so like devotion in the way that he moved; it wasn't about filling some selfish need to get his dick wet, he wanted you to feel loved.

"C’mere," you called him back up, to kiss his lips fervently, your hands buried in his hair. When you parted, he smiled, his eyes were still sleepy. He looked so comfortable, so soft...

Your hand traced again that tattoo on his hip, then moved downward, to the hair on his navel, and lower, touching him over his boxers. He was half hard, his nose buried in your neck. When he groaned, his chest rumbled against yours.

"So nice," he said. "’m too fucking tired to fuck you like you deserve, though."

Your free hand caressed the back of Carmy's neck, holding him closer.

"Just want you to relax, make you feel good," you whispered, moving the hand on his cock back and forth, slow, loving.

He moaned, then shifted a little on the bed. You didn't realize why he was moving until his hand snaked its way inside your shorts.

"Oh," you squirmed a little at the feeling of his fingers.

"Too cold?" Carmy asked.

"No, it's okay," you leaned to kiss him. "It's okay," you repeated.

You kept on touching and kissing, everything in that sort of clumsy haze, one of your legs over his. You needed this: being with him without the rush of being late, no urgency, no fucking as fast as you could before Carmy had to run to the restaurant. You had all the time in the world - you could count the freckles on his face and stare at the blue in his eyes as he mumbled sweet nothings into the morning air.

His free hand touched your wrist, guiding it to the head of his cock, the sluggish rhythm you had set just enough to make him roll his eyes and kiss you hard, drowning a whine against your lips as he released.

"Love you so much," Carmy mumbled.

You kissed the side of his face. "I love you, I love you," your voice came out choked and high.

Without you noticing, the constant massaging between your folds had built up too. You came with a long exhale, closing your eyes for a moment, lightly squeezing his side.

"Wanna stay here forever," he said after a while of just looking at you and caressing your back.

"Just sleeping and fucking all day," you replied tiredly.

"I'd like that."

~

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 8]

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[miabebe]

Hi,

Okay, so, this is just random but I've been obsessing over jihoon recently, been losing my mind and desperately trying to look for fics admiring the man that he is but I can't find many, and so I'm genuinely really excited for your where you're convenient jihoon fic and also more jihoon scenes in camp seventeen because, I need to simp over my man. Also, please let me know if you know any good fics that would drive me crazy for jihoon, and well, just worship him. I love that man.

Also, I totally agree with tumblr user todayiscloudyday when they said that the houses were so well described. The character descriptions were literally so good that I read both the prologue and the character descriptions multiple times before the 1st chapter came out. The houses, their companions, the symbols, their jobs, I have to say, you've really done such an amazing job with them.

Anyway, I just came around to rant about my woozi brainrot and also to let you know that I am genuinely excited for your upcoming fics. I also want to let you know that you don't always have to answer my asks (considering you probably receive many and could be busy), I just send them in so you know that I appreciate your works.

MY FRIEND I UNDERSTAND

Especially after lollapalooza him in that denim on denim fit with nothing under like??? That was insanity, it had me thinking about him for days T.T

As for where you're convenient for Jihoon ahhh that's not on my to do list any time soon unfortunately - I have so much to cover for camp seventeen and reverse tropes and also my Changkyun mafia series, its sadly a little low on my priority list :( But camp seventeen Jihoon hmm you might be able to see a little of him in chapter 2 hehe

Thank you my love, I really did pour a lot of thought into those so I'm glad you've been enjoying them! And it's absolutely fine, I do love to receive and answer any and all asks you send, please never worry about that! I'm always so happy to have you around ❤️

As far as the Jihoon fics are concerned, I've not actually been reading much since I stared writing more often, but I will drop links to some of the ones that were memorable to me under the cut!

@cheolism - Oh, Agony! - I've told Jupiter this too, she's insane for this cause never had I thought I would read smut to Oedipus Rex??? I love it, the build up in this is real good

@hoshifighting - This fic by Lyla goddammit, she's so amazing with her work, I loveee this one for Jihoon, the development of what they share is *chefs kiss*

@onlymingyus - I want to write you a song - Mars is such an exceptional writer, this is truly one of her finest - I need everyone to go to her inbox and leave her the nicest words asap!

@the-boy-meets-evil - A new home for the holidays - This is one of Jess's sweetest stories, the progression is soooo nice! and I'm a bit of a sucker for holiday romance hehe

@eomayas - never lose me - If you want some good ol' pwp I really like this one by Kay! They're so lovesick, ugh it's so good T.T

[icallhimjoey]

I AM SCREEEEEEECHING HE LOOKS SO DELICIOUS. Of all the stills and clips that have been released, which fit of his is your favorite? Is there one even better that we're yet to see that you saw while watching the movie?

denim jacket!!! denim jacket every time - he wears it in the pub scene and he's out of focus in the background before the film reveals that he's there, and EVEN THEN, all blurry, its mouthwatering. the best part is when, just before this shot down below, he puts it back on in the kitchen, and the kitchen is TINY so he has to raise an arm up high to get it on properly and.... yea, denim jacket.

(and also, there's the shot of him naked from the front, towering over maria from the hips up, which is VERY chefs kiss)

[fuckyeahpedropascal]

S1E8 Javier Peña Outfit Archive

La Gran Mentira

Outfit count: 5

This is my last update of the year! I lost a bit of steam with this project, but I've really enjoyed getting into it again. I'm excited to keep going in 2024!

Highlights: That first gif of Javier leaning on the desk with the cigarette smoke catching the light is just *chef's kiss*. I can go on and on about this man leaning on desks, and I think this might be my favourite lean.

And how can we forget that iconic red shirt, arms crossed moment? It's literally a split second frame in the episode, it's too powerful to be captured on camera for longer than that.

And then, that green shirt. I really don't like it, and I don't think Javier wears anything else in that colour again, but you gotta admire the costumes department for really mixing it up 😂

Rewears: This episode throws back to the pilot, with a glimpse of Javier's denim on denim look!

That's all, folks! Thank you for tuning in. The Javier Peña Outfit Archive continues in 2024!

Related posts:

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Outfit Archive Masterlist

S1E7

[wikitpowers]

okay flower crown!kit is amazing and he looks so freakin cute but ya'll are really sleeping on the shirt!!! IT'S GREEN!!! AND UNBUTTONED!!! (it's NOT the ever-present denim jacket how strange hmm)

LIKE HE HAS ONE OF THESE SHIRTS (good luck to ty)

and the contrast of his blonde hair, blue eyes and sun-kissed skin with the green is just *chefs kiss*

he looks so good *sighs*

[davidluongart]

For the first illustration, I dedicated this one to @capelinssm & @/saliannn on Bluesky & Discord. Currently just finishing the Lunar New Year art gift to both Japanese illustrators whose art I often admire & fell in love with the most!!!!! 🎇🧧🥂🍾

Honestly, this is the first time I drew them lovebirds Ares and Aphrodite in a much more stylized slice-of-life/ shoujo-centered anime style, tbh, inspired by the ones that I grew up in the ‘90s-mid-2000s. Boys over Flower, Nana, Paradise Kiss, Slam Dunk, etc. I have a very soft spot for their use of soft light colors and lineart a lot, as well as their use of patterns & textures in the clothing design too!!

Aphrodite’s look was still hugely inspired by Beyoncé’s outfits in the classic “Crazy in Love” music video; since there is always something both contemporary and modern with her sparking tank top, the denim jean bottoms, and candy apple red pumps that I can’t explain. The 70s psychedelic miniskirt shorts that the goddess wore were inspired by the Emilio Pucci one that I found on Vogue UK-softer colors with an experimental touch. And for the pumps, I based them on these classy but affordable Charles & Keith. 👠👠

For the second one, wanting to do something just for the Greek ladies for a long time: modern-day Ares as that hot Greek dad/fitness trainer and the main chef at their own home who just finished his early morning workout (a bit inspired from @thelonelylemonsquare and from the previous convo with @alatismeni-theitsa in this case), while Aphrodite in her hot lingerie outfit for the special occasion (recommended by my Greek fella, @konstantinos_palamidas on IG). The food that he cooked for her included Greek crustaceans fish soup, spicy seafood pasta, gyros wraps, Mediterranean salad and finally morning coffee!!!🥙🥗🍛🍲🥘

I’m so sorry for this took long enough, so have a happy belated Valentine Day also, too, everyone!!!!!

[just2bubbly]

Pls thodi aur Kaider fluff likhdo

For the person who send this ask, thank you! Fluff likhne mei bohot time laga, hope it's fine! Abhi you can enjoy the fluff :)

Masterlist

Love Me Like a Dog

Cinder's perspective-

"Do you think adding some pepper would balance the sour taste?" Kai asked, licking the stew from the spoon.

"I don't think it works like that. Also please don't lick the spoon like that," she said, trying to not show her disgust. For someone who had grown up with an array of instructors, Kai tended to act barbaric more often than not. However, it always happened in the confinement of their small kitchen, he never seemed to forget any dining etiquettes or indulge in his more human side with anyone else.

"Sorry," he said, wincing a little, his face didn't show much remorse though.

"I think we could add a little sugar to put out the sour taste." She suggested, grabbing the jar of sugar off the counter.

Kai nodded in agreement as he took the jar from her, "-this time don't dump the entire jar!"

"Cinder-" he groaned, "-that was one time."

"And I could have got diabetes because of it. It was 1/2 kg of sugar, I cannot fathom how you managed to mix all the contents together."

Kai ignored her remark, showing a tongue to her.

"Such a baby," she said, flicking some flour in his direction, which he carefully avoided.

"Let's not be violent, Cindy," he commented. He tasted the stew he was working on, and having been satisfied with its taste, cheered on self-win.

She smiled at the sight, Kai looked adorable in his denim shorts and lime green shirt, and the apron reading 'in an argument kiss the chef' did add its charm- Cinder clicked a picture of him to share on the group chat.

Cinder: attachment, "The Emperor says butter is too expensive, these days."

She keeps her port aside and drains the water from cooked noodles. Switches on the gas and adds shallots and garlic to saute, while grating ginger simultaneously. Noting how the ingredients aren't brown enough, she pulls up the message bar in her internal media screen and notes the various replies to her text.

Thorne: tell the Emperor, YOU ARE RICH

Thorne: and how do you think it's expensive when you decide the prices of commodities?!

Cress: I don't think Kai decides the cost of grocery products

Iko: CINDER CINDER CINDER

Iko: TELL ME YOU KISSED HIM TOO MANY TIMES IN THAT

Thorne: @Cinder please don't answer that

Cinder: I did, he is loml <3

Winter: Cousin, what does loml mean?

"Cinder, that's burning."

She blinks her messenger away, the smell of burning shallots causes her to cough and notes the sorry state of her finely chopped shallots and garlic.

"Don't tell me you got distracted again," he sighs, throwing away the burnt veggies, "-I just told them you are the loml."

"- Is that a reason or an excuse?" He asks, eyebrows rising towards his hairline.

"The truth, Kai." She huffs, chopping the shallots again.

"Well, if it helps, you are the love of my life too," he whispers, kissing her hairline, as he hugs her from behind, chin resting in the crook of her neck, "- don't read messages or you might chop off your fingers," he suggests.

"A good husband would offer to help."

"A better husband believes in sharing the workload."

"Way to go, Emperor!"

"I'll set the table, don't burn the kitchen down," he says, kissing her cheek before he rummages through the cupboards for cutlery.

She doesn't scroll through her inner port screen this time and adds the noodles to cook. The spice causes a burning sensation behind her eyes and she wonders if they have the tolerance for it- deciding to check the taste for herself, she coughs, her throat and tongue are on fire and gurgles a glass of water.

"Fuck," she mutters under her breath, adding a spoonful of sugar in the pan, she mixes the content one last time before turning off the gas. Cinder sets the container in the small dining space, sitting across from Kai as he asks, "White Wine?"

"What's the occasion?"

"I feel like it and it was just sitting there in the cupboard." He states, pulling out two glasses for her lack of disagreement. He serves the stew with smoky mashed potatoes, while she pours wine into their respective glasses, and this time Kai clicks a picture of their appetizer to send on their group chat.

She eyes him, "-what?! I need them to know your kissing didn't stop me from making good food."

Chuckling at that, she dives into the food, and like Kai mentioned her kissing wasn't enough distraction.

"It's good," they murmur together and later chuckle at themselves.

"I didn't ever think potatoes could taste so good," she remarks, getting another spoonful of stew.

"I told you to trust me."

"Henceforth, I will. You should cook often."

"I know, I used to. I was too self-conscious to eat with the staff present and to eat alone meant asking the staff to work extra, so I preferred cooking alone. This kitchen was Dad's gift when he found out about it. Somedays we used to cook together, he wasn't very good at it so he mostly used to stick to the chopping part." He explained, fondly sharing the memory.

"I despised cooking. Iko used to take care of most of it while we lived at Adri's which was a blessing. But on some occasions, Pearl would want something more interesting and I was supposed to cook on those days- Peony used to cook then and I did the dishes later."

Talking about Peony and her life before she met him no longer brought any grief. Cinder wondered what Peony might have thought seeing that Emperor Kaito cooked for her regularly, she would probably faint this one out thinking it was a dream, the thought made her smile.

"You know," Kai said, twisting his fork around,"-we could get a pet."

"A pet?"

"If that's not much trouble, or if you aren't a pet person."

"Nah, I didn't mean it like that, just surprised. What pet are we talking about?" She asked, puzzled at his out-of-the-blue remark.

"A dog- are you a cat person?"

"I don't think I have a preference."

Truth be told, Cinder remembered an old black mutt, lying outside her shop, a shabby animal, its hair colour faded, its body weak as it struggled to move. The boy in the next shop used to call it Sadie. On rainy days, it used to hide between buildings and stall corners, the sight always did things to her fabricated heart, but there was not much she could do to help it.

"Well, I have an inkling about a dog," Kai says, taking her thoughts off the rain-drenched mutt.

"Anything that made you think about it all of a sudden?"

"Cinder," he sighs, hands moving through his hair," I saw a dog. Poor thing was still a child, very bony. I might have brought it to the Palace."

"You mean you did."

"Yes, I did. She would mostly stay with the Palace dogs, but I wondered if you would like if she grew up with us." He admitted, showing his remarkable baby face, something she couldn't say no to.

"I'd like that. We could go see it after dinner." She exclaims, smiling as Kai grins in victory.

"You would love her. She looked abandoned when I saw it during my meetup. I couldn't just leave it there," Kai explained.

-

"Why keep her in the Palace Kitchen?" She asked, moving through the long files of kitchen countertops.

"It needed a warm place and Mary agreed to look after her, till the vet gave a green signal to introduce her to the others."  

"That's quite thoughtful," she murmurs, eyes falling to the corner that contained a large box.

Kai signalled her to come closer, and she saw a child, her retina scanner showing its breed and some related information. She blinks them away, focusing on the sleeping form of the dog, the rugged brown fur begging for a wash.

Cinder stumbles on her step as she lowers herself down, the noise enough to wake the dog up. It leaps towards Kai, who is already smitten as he picks it up.

"You remember me!!" Kai shouts, kissing her head, as it wiggles around in his arms, tail wagging in excitement.

"Do you have a name, baby?"

Her big brown eyes stared at her, "I don't know, maybe Mary has kept something."

"We can try saying names, maybe she could like something?" She suggests, lowering herself to the knees.

"Works for me," Kai says, from next to her, the dog licking at its face as she sat in his lap. The scene makes Cinder warm to her toes.

"How about Ollie? Do you like Ollie?" She asks, the dog doesn't give much of a reaction.

"Lila?" Kai offers, and like the prior name, there isn't any show of enthusiasm.

Without much thought, Cinder says, "Sadie? Like Sadie Maddie?"

And the dog leaps to that, moving around in circles as it barks loudly in excitement.

"I think she likes that, right Sadie?" Kai asks, Sadie nudges her nose against Kai's and licks up his face, some way to show her approval.

Kai grimaces, saliva covering his face as Cinder giggles, which causes the dog to turn and now she is licking Cinder's face.

"Karma coming back at you, Cindy," Kai jokes, picking up the dog.

She sits there, mildly disgusted with saliva sticking to her face, however, she could foresee many such face licks if Sadie stays up with them.

"Oii, c'mon, I don't know about you but I would appreciate a wash. So would Sadie," Kai calls from the doorway and Cinder is up on her feet, walking behind them.

"Let's stop by the dog troop for some essentials," She remarks, once they enter the lift.

Kai grins at her, Sadie still in his arms as he closes the distance, capturing her lips with his. The dogs squeezed between the two, yelps, making the two break apart, chuckling.

"Looks like we have got supervision."

"Rather sweet," she says, leaving a quick kiss on his lips, as she ruffled the fur of her new baby.   

-

A/N: My cousin recently adopted a dog and I have been begging my mum for one, unfortunate that she despies all form of pets! :/

taglist: @gingerale2017 @impalasquiptyseven @impossiblesuitcase @cinderswrench @slmkaider @fangirlforever0704 and anyone who wants to be tagged.

[jahsontodd]

✨rating pedro pascal characters based on nothing but costuming (non-exhaustive)✨

considerations:

*real housewives voice* thats my OPINION!!! also subject to change upon reflection, just going off my current feelings. 

not really discussing whether the costuming is good or bad for character, context, or source material but just how much I like them if that makes sense. 

some of these costume designers knocked it out of the park but would I be a little grumpy if I went on a date and they showed up in a walmart denim button up and ripped their $300+ jacket to shreds? Yes. Was that costume absolutely perfect for Joel? Yes again.

Mostly discussing costuming in context modern/21st century settings. The Mandalorian+GOT+ etc. in part two?

Minimal discussion on hair+cosmetics, only really when it applies to the whole look

Javier Gutierrez: The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

Rating: 10/10

Crew:

Paco Delgado: Costume Designer see also: John Wick: Chapter 4, Death on the Nile, Jungle Cruise, Cats (2019), Split, Les Misérables 2012 (and many more he’s booked and busy)

full cast and crew

Comments: 

They did not have to go so crazy on these outfits!!! 

Why does one of my favorite looks apparently not even appear in the movie!?

every look is so *chefs kiss*

I feel like mustard yellow is such a good color on him. 

Like call up those people on tik tok who make nonsensical categories like “strong winter” “ambivalent fall” and find out why mustard yellow always works.

The palette is a cute mix of like warm bricky colors like red, brown, mustard yellow mixed with baby blue and eggshell white. its actually perfect. 

What really makes him stand out is the fact he accessorizes. 

Lots of men don't accessorize because they don’t think its important - they couldn’t be more wrong. 

It’s one of the many injustices of the world that a man’s outfit looks 10x better by adding one necklace or in this case- pinky ring.

Do I like the sunglasses? No. But I like that they are there. 

Obligatory hair mention: The hair looks great. With longer hair becomes more responsibility, ie sometimes the part is a little too deep making the front pieces have a combover look. This is only when its messy though so that may have been the point?

If I included every outfit I liked it would just be a slideshow of the whole movie so I picked my favorites 

Javier Peña: Narcos

Rating: 10/10

Crew:

Bina Daigler: Costume Designer (season 1) see also: Dumplin’, Tár, Mulan (2020), 1899

María Estela Fernánde: Costume Designer (season 2-3) see also: Narcos: Mexico, Queen of the South, Hell (El Infierno)

Mayra de Abreu: Wardrobe Supervisor (season 1) key costumer for (season 2-3) see also: Narcos: Mexico, The Head of Joaquín Murrieta (La Cabeza de Joaquín Murrieta)

full cast and crew

Comments: 

Can you tell I like 70s inspos?

Its unique but true to someone who grew up in RGV and now on his own

ie good luck getting him out of boots. you can’t do it

When he dresses up in s1+2, damn i love a tan suit! 

Its very formulaic, but not to the extent that it looks like he bought 7 colors of the exact same shirt. He’s pretty much always wearing a short sleeve button up and fitted jeans. which makes the times he isn’t stand out

ie the tan suit. what can i say i am an american who is up to date on politics i always defend a tan suit when i see one

also occasionally breaks out this like tan vest situation? 

I think it’s a good balance between like clearly not being inspired by like their “current day” but not so 70s that it would be odd. It’s kinda timeless. 

He tends to follow one of my outfits rules: max 3 colors

Rules are meant to be broken obvi 

But I do feel like as a general rule of thumb and since he doesn’t wear a ton of patterns, wearing more than three colors starts to make an outfit look random and not put together

For Javi, this usually means 

color 1: *shirt color* 

color 2: pants (pretty much just blue or black, he does throw in some brown pants) 

color 3: brown (pretty exclusively wears brown belts/shoes)

Short note on hair/grooming: I love how season 1 has some more length in the back and generally has a shaggy sort of look? By season 3 his hair is more cropped probably bc of his new role. 

Something about the extra length in the back makes him look young- not in the sense of like actual age but maybe looking more hopeful or green, even when dressed up 

Also every so often you can see when they mess up the stick on sideburns. It tickles me.

He’s a menace to society. And he knows it 

Pietro Alvarez: If Beale Street Could Talk

Rating:  8/10

Crew:

Caroline Eselin (Caroline Eselin-Schaefer): Costume Designer see also: Moonlight (2016), Father of the Bride, Troop Zero, The Underground Railroad

full cast and crew

Comments:

We don’t see much and what we see! Is so good

This deep deep red is very nice and I like that is a monochromatic look (I don’t think we see his pants in the movie but collecting pics for this I saw the pants are the same color) 

It also has my favorite type of collar- that extra pointy extra long collar. 

And he *drum rolls* accessorized! Its only a necklace but the choice to have it OVER the shirt, over an already perfectly monochrome outfit makes it pop

The things that bring it a little down for me is, well, there is only one scene to work with so it feels wrong to rank higher than projects with multiple outfits, and the grooming

The mustache didn’t have to be so thin. 

Hair wise I don’t understand why we always have to exaggerate the side burns to achieve the “deep sideburn” look. 

I feel like we could still make the hair look “of the time” by taking some of the weight from the sides and leaving it up top and working with his natural side burns (even if that means making them darker, just not necessarily longer)

Even though I get the hair of the time was very um... spherical

side note: everyone in this movie is dressed spectacularly. I am appreciating through the tears in my eyes

Jack Daniels: Kingsman: Golden Circle

Rating: 7/10

Crew:

Arianne Phillips: Costume Designer See Also: Don’t Worry Darling, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, Nocturnal Animals, Kingsman: The Secret Service

Full cast and crew

Comments:

Have I watched in full? Maybe a few years ago? I remember the first one quite clearly bc the water filling up the bedroom scene YIKES!

The snowsuit is so good. It’s functional, it’s sassy. It has one of my favorite western top details I don’t know the name of but the little patch details on the front of the shoulders. 

Who’s idea was it for the belt buckle to be a FLASK!!! thats gold

I love a color SCHEME!!! 

brown leather deserves love

The rain boots- a practical choice in the middle of like the least practical movie ever? Leave him in cowboy boots you cowards

Like oh the grounds might get muddy he needs rain boots. His belt buckle was a flask guys be real

Marcus Pike: The Mentalist

Rating: 5/10

Crew:

Amanda Friedland: Costumer Designer See also: 13 Reasons Why, House of 1000 Corpses, Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles, Fight Club, Clueless,

Scott O’Leary: Costume Designer See Also: The Rookie, Lucifer, Supergirl, 21 Jumpstreet

full cast and crew

Comments:

Have I watched in full? No. I caught a few episodes it was when it was airing but I don’t think i could tell you a single plot line 

(there is a LOT of FBI Department of Pseudo Psychology shows ok)

I do remember in one of his early eps they use the murder house from Nightcrawlers.

*Abby Lee voice* you didn’t stick out to me

Very government employee of you to wear ill fitting suits

Not to be irrational but v-neck t shirts don’t rub me the right way. 

This is a completely personal ick that I don’t expect anyone else to agree with. 

I just ~~ just do a crew neck you know? 

Maybe WHY I don’t like it is because its very 2010-2014. 

Which, in Marcus’ defense, just makes v-neck t-shirts something of the time 

Does nothing crazy with his suits, but nothing that makes me cover my eyes either 

Joel Miller: The Last of Us

Rating: 6/10

Crew:

Cynthia Anne Summers: Costume Designer See also: Swan Song, The Babysitters Club, Snowpiercer, A Series of Unfortunate Events (2018), Apollo 18

Full cast and crew

Comments:

Joel we get it you are nOT like other girls 

It makes sense for who he is. 

And who he is is someone who is not thinking about how much cunt he is going to serve with his outfit that day. 

unFORTUNATELY.

His pants ARE suspiciously fitted. Not so utilitarian when it comes to pants are you Joel?

But! I love the big coat. Could live in the big coat. The big coat deserves an award

The best part of the big coat is the main defense against the simplicity of Joel’s outfits are “oh it’s the apocalypse” or “oh he’s not thinking about that” 

Really? bc this is a SHEARLING lined coat. Do you know how quickly those fluffy shearling/sherpa etc. liners start to look like shit? if its a real shearling lining (the one he uses is real) you need to avoid getting it wet and store in dry areas. 

I am not even talking about price here! Because I have already explained why I think its not that weird to have people wearing expensive clothes 20 years into the apocalypse. 

Its the utility of having a shearling lined coat when you don’t have a closet full of DampRids

No way he had it in Boston since they only travel with regular sized backpacks. He saw it, liked it, wanted it, got it. 

He got that coat for the cunt of it all, you can’t convince me otherwise. 

Thank you so much for coming on this ride with me it was a fun exercise to look at just the clothes and not my feelings toward the character/movie/show. 

Who should I do next time? I have plenty of more thoughts hehe

~Tags for amiges who wanted to see this post!~

@fuckyeahpedropascal​ @simpingcowboy​

[dilf-din]

Sarah was doubled over in hysterics, a jarring pain in her side as she tried to even out her breathing. Joel had tears streaming down his face as he tried to fight for composure.

“Maybe we’re not cut out for this,” he gasped.

“DAD, STOP,” she choked out through a new wave of giggles.

Before them on the counter lay a mess of spoons and bowls amidst an explosion of flour. Above them on the ceiling hung the remnants of their first homemade pizza dough. Joel had decided he would try to spin it like you see in the movies, despite Sarah trying desperately to be the voice of reason.

“Dad, that’s for advanced chefs,” she had urged.

“I’ve been cooking for you for 13 years, that’s gotta make me advanced to some degree,” he had argued.

The two of them finally steadied their breathing and locked eyes with each other just as they heard the front door come unlocked. In walked Tommy, a brown bag in hand piled high with fresh toppings from the local market.

“You guys look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, an eyebrow raised as he shuffled the bag onto the edge of the counter.

With comedic timing better than money could buy, the mess of dough detached from the ceiling and landed back on the counter with a wet thump, promptly sending the duo into hysterics again.

Tommy stood still, mouth agape with a horrified look on his face.

“Move,” he instructed firmly, pushing past them to roll up the sleeves to his denim shirt and wash his hands. “You don’t deserve this,” he said mockingly pulling the apron off of Joel’s head and securing it around his own waist.

Sarah wrung her hands, laughing so hard it came out as a snort. She and Joel crashed into each other and rested against the fridge giving Tommy ample room to fix the mess they had made.

Joel leaned his head into her curls and pressed a long kiss to the crown of her head.

“Sorry you don’t have a pizza chef for an old man,” he jested, poking her in the ribs.

She batted his hand away, “I don’t mind, life is more fun this way,” she smiled at him.

He smiled back, edges of his eyes starting to crinkle in a new way. She thoughtfully took in this first sign of aging. Unknown to her, Joel was thinking about how, last summer, he could tuck her whole body under his chin when he hugged her. She had shot up in the fall, her head almost level with his own now.

The two of them had grown up together, the three of them, really.

Joel’s gaze drifted to Tommy who was ranting about the mechanics of dough making to anyone who would listen. Sarah had returned to her spot at the counter and was thoughtfully taking in everything he said, eyes following his careful hands.

Joel smiled again, pivoting his body to switch on the radio, wiping the leftover flour onto his jeans before turning the knob. The sound of Avril Lavigne faded into the background, filling in the empty space.

Joel grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed to the other side of the island, hooking a barstool with his boot and perching atop it while Sarah and Tommy remedied the dough mishap, shaping it into three matching circles. He smiled and drew a long swig from the cold bottle. This week might’ve been hell, but Friday nights with his family carried him through the ups and downs easily.

[soshiharin]

better than this world tour: pat kret

SETLIST

STYLING

CELEBS IN ATTENDANCE

— aimee lou wood

— blackpink’s lisa

— twice’s tzuyu

HIGHLIGHTS

— looking like a real princess with the act 1 outfit

— like you cant tell me she isn’t royalty

— one of the best like a witch performances to ever be seen was seen that night

— also the denim outfit slayed (thank you to twice’s stylists for giving them such pretty outfits for the tour)

— you already know she’s still eating her way through the fruit seohyun gave her

– she’ll never be free of those dried mangoes 😔

— melt got everybody singing along

— now its act 3 with the cutest outfit ever!

— harin: the outfit has this teddy bear here *plays with teddy bear on belt loop* it’s cute

— honestly that outfit became a fan favourite like the body is bodying

— the fansite pics of her in that outfit go HARD

— then she was talking with sones a bit and someone told her that their wallet got stolen 😭😭

— harin: your wallet got stolen? did you tell your bank to freeze your cards?

— sone: no, i didn’t 😄

— the way she just stared at him for a second

— “if you wake up tomorrow with no money to your name, i don’t want you to even mention me”

— she said play stupid games win stupid prizes

— let’s give it up for gotta go!!

— THEE solo debut

— and the outfit is chefs kiss

— encore encore encore

— she covered tip toe by hybs and she ATEEE

— thai sones prepared a video edit for harin and it was played during the time for her last ment

— it was a video montage of her from predebut until her concert the night before with a voice over of her speaking

— not a dry eye in that venue tbh

— except for harin bcs she truly just watched it like it was a movie

— “that is so cute, thank you! we’ve been on a long journey, sone. i’ll continue to work as hard as i feel like”

©️ jang harin

[thebirdandthebee]

Easy As

A Carmen Berzatto Universe

A/N: Another request from the inbox - though I think this has been on everyone’s mind for a while! Let me know your guesses at gender ;)

Vanessa Monaghan is the breath of fresh air that Carmen had been gasping for.

Chapter 28: Sous

It was earlier than they planned – about six months earlier. Vanessa would be walking at her graduation ceremony in three months, and by then, she’d be six months along.

She didn’t care if it was earlier than planned. Frankly she was more impressed than anything – she’d only gotten her IUD taken out a few months ago. Her gynecologist warned it could take six months to a year for her cycle to regulate again and they had been using condoms in the mean time.

She hadn’t even necessarily gotten off of her IUD with the intention of getting pregnant, but to help with cramps that had been getting worse over the last year or so.

But there it was, looking right back at her as she stared down the little Clear Blue test. Pregnant.

It took a few days for it to really sink in – and about six more tests along with a trip to her gyno to confirm.

Sure, they’d been talking about having babies for years, but it was something else entirely to actually be pregnant.

She wanted to tell Carmen in a cute way – not just blurt it out over dinner one night.

But she didn’t know how. She didn’t want it to be tacky, she wanted it to be sweet – maybe use something they could hold onto as the baby got older.

After a week of thinking it through and work-shopping a couple of items on Etsy, she had a solution. Tracking down a vintage baby Levi denim jacket wasn’t easy, but with enough money, anything was possible.  Six days later, she got the jacket back from an artist based in Chicago that had artfully stitched Sous Chef across the top back panel of the jacket. It was perfect, and she cried as she clutched it to her chest after opening the box up on campus.

She couldn’t risk Carmen finding it before it was time.

But the time had finally come. It had been nearly four weeks since she found out and she was bursting at the seams to finally tell him. Nerves shook her hands as she wrapped up the little jacket in plain brown wrapping paper, tying off the box with white ribbon.

She’d text Carmen that she’d pull together dinner that night. He’d been helping Natalie and Pete with the fence in their backyard for a few hours that afternoon and she’d prepared a big cheese board, salads and sandwiches for dinner – something that they ended up eating most nights.

She was just plating up the spring mix as Carmen walked through the door. She figured she’d save the gift for after dinner. She was starving after all, and didn’t think they’d get around to eating after she told him the big news.

“Mrs. Berzatto?” Carmen called out, hearing the tell-tale thunk of his shoe against the back of the entry closet.

“You hungry?” Vanessa called back, cracking open a ginger ale and leaning back against the kitchen counter. “I found the last bit of our jalapeno spread in the deli drawer.”

Carmen’s arms appeared around her waist, hugging her back against him.

In that moment, she realized she couldn’t eat more than half of what she’d plated up for dinner. No deli meat, no soft cheeses, no smoked salmon. She didn’t know all the rules, but she knew some of them. God she couldn’t eat sushi for nearly six more months?

She wondered if he could feel her little bump – did she even have a bump?

Oh my god she was pregnant.

“Starving,” He replied, kissing her neck gently.

“How are Nat and Pete?” She asked, hugging her arms against him.

“Enjoying their newly fixed fence,” Carmen said, rocking her gently back and forth. “Lily and Maxie were out with the babysitter, so didn’t get to see ‘em.”  Vanessa could feel his frown against her skin. Max was Nat and Pete’s rainbow baby after their miscarriage before Lily turned two. At fourteen months, he was a little monster that Carmen was absolutely obsessed with.

“They’re coming over this weekend,” she reminded gently. “Then we can give them the water table.”

“They’re gonna love it,” Carmen’s frown turned upside down.

Vanessa spun in his hold, taking in his beautiful features.

“Come on, handsome, there’s a salad out there calling my name,” she greeted him once again with a soft kiss.

“God I’m starving,” he said, squeezing her sides in his hand. “After dinner maybe we can walk down to Jeni’s for dessert?”

“That sounds like a magnificent idea,” Vanessa agreed. It was another sweltering late summer in Chicago and their air conditioning had been working overtime all week.

They shared dinner at the dining table, Vanessa’s feet in Carmen’s lap as he told her about his day. She’d been studying away for final projects and she could feel the shift in their life coming – a welcome, exciting shift. Maybe Carmen could feel it, too.

“You not hungry?” Carmen asked, noticing she’d barely picked at the cheeseboard and left most of her sandwich on her plate.

“I ate a big, heavy lunch today and for some reason this salad is the only thing calling my name,” she explained way. He didn’t blink twice and happily picked up her sandwich to put on his plate.

“I already know what flavor you’re going to get,” Carmen said as their hands swung between them, looking up at the board of flavors at Jeni’s.

“I think I’m going to change it up this time,” Vanessa replied.

“No gooey butter cake?” He asked. His wife was a severe creature of habit.

“Something about Savannah buttermint is really doing it for me this time,” she said, “will you get me two scoops?” Carmen shrugged, reaching the counter to order and grabbing his own scoop of salted caramel.

The noises Vanessa was making as they trekked back to their apartment were downright unholy.

“Good then?” Carmen asked with a laugh.

“Fuck Carmen, this ice cream is getting me wet,” she replied, only half-joking. Carmen honked out a laugh at her words.

“Wait, let me try,” he insisted, reaching his spoon over.

“Don’t you dare,” she pulled away, twisting her body so he couldn’t reach it.

“Vanessa!” He laughed, “you got two scoops, let me get a little nibble,” he said, only halfway sounding like a petulant child.

“I’m not sharing!” She said, shoveling another big bite into her mouth.

“C’mere,” he lured her in, sealing his mouth over hers in a kiss, getting all the flavor of the Savannah buttermint. “Wow, that is good,” he commented, proud to see he could still make his wife blush.

“Come on, I have a little something for you at home,” she teased out, piquing his interest.

“For me?” He asked, brows raised.

Vanessa finished her treat in the same time as Carmen, dropping their used cups in the garbage before she grabbed her perfectly wrapped package from their bedroom.

“Baby, what did you get me?” He asked, happily taking the box as she settled herself in his lap on the couch.

“I think you’ll like it,” she replied, “I love it,” she added quietly.

Carmen gave her an inquisitive look as he pulled the white ribbon, tearing the brown wrapping paper. Lifting the white tissue paper, he tossed the lid to the ground, revealing the little jacket.

“Ness?” He asked, holding it up in its entirety. It was impossibly small, and he heart lurched at the sight of it. She pushed the box to the ground as he turned it over, revealing the embroidery.

She could see Carmen’s brain stop working all together.

“Nessa?” He asked again, mouth agape and blue eyes wide. “Sous Chef?” He asked mostly to himself. “Ness is this for –“” His brain flipped around the babies they knew, Rosie, Lily, Max – they were all too big for this. “Vanessa are you pregnant?” He finally formed a full thought.

“Check the pocket,” she smiled serenely. Carmen reached in to pull out the infamous blue-capped test.

Pregnant.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked, looking absolutely shocked. “Vanessa please don’t tell me this is a joke,” he all but pleaded.

“It’s not a joke,” excited tears bubbled up to the surface. “I’m pregnant – went to the doctor and everything.”

“Ness – I” Carmen’s face morphed into pure joy, his lashes dark and slick with tears. He wrapped her up in the biggest hug he could, wanting to hold onto this moment forever in case it was another dream. “We’re having a baby,” he breathed in disbelief.

“We’re having a baby,” she laughed, nervous and excited giggles leaving her lips.

“You’re pregnant!” He exclaimed, “holy shit, Ness, it’s happening!” he pushed his hair back, holding his forehead underneath his palm.

“It’s happening!” She agreed.

“When,” he breathed in again, “when?” He implored.

“Valentine’s Day,” she giggled.

“Valentine’s Day?” He gaped, still in pure disbelief.

“Our little valentine,” she repeated, tears now flowing down her cheeks.

“So you’re – you’re almost three months?” He asked.

“Next week I’ll be out of my first trimester,” she replied, “happy birthday.” Carmen would turn thirty-two next week.

Carmen leaned forward, kissing her soundly, his hand sliding up her back to cradle her head in his palms.

“I love you so much,” he shook his head. “We’ve got to build a nursery.”

Vanessa laughed at his thought process, stroking the back of his neck gently.

“We have so much time,” she insisted.

“Ness it’s going to fly by,” he replied. “We can get painters out here next week.”

“And what color are we painting, huh?” She asked with a tilt of her head. “Should we find out?”

Carmen froze. They were either going to have a baby boy or a baby girl and even now, with just two options, it seemed like a universe of possibilities.

“I want to find out,” he said, eyes almost desperate. “I don’t think I can wait till February to know.”

“I want out find out, too,” Vanessa agreed. “It’s been killing me to walk by all the baby boutiques and not buying anything,” Carmen laughed at her honesty.

An hour later, they were laying in bed, Carmen’s head resting gently on Vanessa’s stomach.

“It’s the size of a cherry right now,” Vanessa said, combing her fingers through Carmen’s hair. He was due for a haircut, but she loved it long and shaggy in the summer.

“A cherry,” he repeated, marveling. “A little rainier,” he commented. “I think she’s more like a little maraschino,” Vanessa replied.

“You think it’s a girl?” He asked, hand resting gently below her belly button.

“I have no idea,” she said honestly. “It’s fun to picture it.”

Carmen nuzzled against her, feeling like he was positively floating.

“Thank you,” he said, lifting his head to look Vanessa in the eye.

“Well my love, I really couldn’t do it without you,” Vanessa smiled. “I’m impressed honestly, my gynecologist was impressed, too.” Carmen laughed softly, placing his head back down against the warmth of her body.

“How are we ever supposed to sleep again?” Carmen asked, “I’m too excited to sleep.”

“Baby I think our days of sleep are officially over,” Vanessa admitted.

Carmen began to run through it all in his head. He’d never put anything before his baby. He knew that some adjustments would be on the horizon, because he wouldn’t give up a single minute with his growing family.

[badwritinghabit]

Chef's Kiss | Carmy x fem!OC x Luca | Chapter 1

Next Chapter | Masterlist | Ao3 Warnings: language, grief, disordered eating, brief mentions of death/suicide, smoking. This is not canon compliant. Word count: 2,656 Summary: Sophie sees Carmy for the first time in years. It's a little awkward.

A woman ducked under a faded red and white striped awning as the rain poured hard over head. She pulled her denim jacket tighter to her chest before reaching up and tying her dark curly hair back, missing a few strands already plastered to her face from the rain. She had followed a sudden urge to grab lunch after leaving her sister’s house and had taken a train to get to the River North neighborhood in Chicago. The sudden downpour made her wonder if she had made the wrong decision. She had already been in Chicago a few weeks and had yet to make her way to The Beef, a restaurant owned by the family of a friend she had made a few years prior when she was working in New York City.

Carmy had been the one true friend she had made in those days. The rest of the cohort of chefs she worked with were ladder climbing, ass-kissing, idiots who had actively made her life harder. She had been used to the fight and the struggle from her time in culinary school. Being a woman in the kitchen had been difficult. The men would make crass jokes and undermine her at every step. But Carmy was different, had seen her somehow. The two bonded quickly. She was putting in just as much effort and he respected her.

The late nights and early mornings working together led to a close friendship. The first few weeks were spent silently working next to each other. She had just appreciated a quiet, consistent presence. Eventually they began sharing their workload and helping each other survive the grueling life in the restaurant. That turned into smoke breaks, where she’d bum one of his cigarettes on especially hard days, or just sit next to him. Eventually they shared more and more, their lives unfolding in little snippets, shared memories that one or the other would tell in the dark alley behind their work.

She often wondered how such a strong friendship could grow from two people taking turns dumping their trauma on each other night after night. But a kind of understanding had formed. She had understood his childhood, the quiet loneliness he felt being the awkward one in a loud, overwhelming family. Her story was similar. And when she shared something from her past, he’d share as well. And they came to understand each other. He was the only one in the restaurant who she ever told about her father being a chef. How after he died she trained to follow in his footsteps.

She had to dodge out of the way as someone stepped out of the building she was hiding near. She was only a few blocks from The Beef. Carmy didn’t work there, but she knew his brother owned the restaurant. And some part of her was curious. Wanted to see this restaurant that her friend had spoken at once with such reverence and disdain. She knew he loved it and wanted desperately to help run it. She never got the full story but knew it was a source of pain and pride for him in equal measure.

The rain slowed to a drizzle after another minute and she took the opportunity to run for it. She hopped across puddles and ran through the rain, head ducked, purse clung tightly to her chest in hopes her phone and wallet inside wouldn’t get too soaked. She made it to the restaurant and pulled the door open, rushing inside quickly. She sighed, relieved, looking down at the floor. She hadn’t gotten too wet; thankfully she wasn’t dripping on their floor. She looked up and was greeted by a man with short cropped hair and a beard. He grinned at her and asked if she got stuck in the rain.

She chuckled in response. “What gave it away?” she asked, smiling at him. She pushed at the stray strands of hair, trying and failing to get the curls away from her face as she walked towards the counter. She asked for his recommendation and ended up getting a beef sandwich, hot, with a pop. She had asked for a soda but he had teased her about her regional word choice.

“It’s called pop,” he said, pointing to the sign emphatically. His grin made it clear his teasing was in good humor. She laughed. “Not from around here?”

She grimaced, knowing his response before she even said where she was from. “You caught me. From Wisconsin. Just moved from California though.”

“Wisconsin girl?” He shook his head, mock angry. “Who said you could come into this restaurant?”

She laughed. “Oh my kind isn’t welcome here?” She liked him instantly. Brash and loud, but clearly friendly and obviously joking. It was a breath of fresh air. “I was told by a friend that the next time I was in Chicago I had to try your sandwiches.”

“We need to tell our customers not to go talking about this place to just anyone,” he grumbled with a smirk. She laughed.

“Restroom this way?” she asked, looking to the side. He pointed down the hall and she thanked him.

She looked herself over in the slightly dirty restroom mirror. She was briefly tempted to stick her head under the air powered dryer but decided against it. It was very much something she would have done in New York, those days of not caring how she looked, running on nothing but red bulls and Carmy’s cigarettes. And occasionally Carmy’s granola bars, when he would force her to eat on smoke breaks.

On the off chance Carmy heard all of the restaurant gossip, she didn’t want to end up being the weird lady who dried her hair in their restroom. Instead she simply washed her hands and grabbed a few paper towels and dried off her hands, then her face and neck. She slid her jacket off her shoulders and found at least her sundress had remained mostly dry. She ought to have paid more attention to the weather this morning when she dressed, she thought regretfully.

She undid and re-did her hair, more successfully pulling most of her curls into a messy bun on the back of her neck. She stepped back out into the restaurant to see a larger man with a backwards cap and a grin peeking through the window. She smiled at him and headed to a table by the window.

“Sophie.” The man who took her order called out, before thinking better of it. “No wait, let me serve you. I know how youse guys in Wisconsin like your service.” His voice adapted an over the top Wisconsin accent. She laughed as he placed the tray in front of her with a dramatic bow.

“Ope. Thank you!” she said with a grin, her own exaggerated northern Wisconsin accent sounding terribly silly to her ears. He shook his head with a grin and walked back to the counter.

“Soph?” a familiar voice called out before she could bite into her sandwich. She snapped around to stare in shock. It was Carmy. Dressed in a dark blue t-shirt and white apron, curls falling forward over his face, her heart skipped a beat. He looked almost exactly as he had the last time she’d seen him about a few years prior. He took a step toward her and she stood and walked over, wrapping him in a hug.

“Carm,” she said, cheek pressed into his shoulder. He had gripped her tightly around the back, hugging her to him. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her head tilted up to look at him as she stepped back.

He gave her a look. “Me? This is my restaurant,” he said, like it was obvious. “You didn’t know?”

“Yours?” she asked, wide eyed. She very nearly asked more but hesitated. She knew something big must have happened. He had wanted to work in the restaurant for ages. She quickly changed the subject when she saw the hurt in his eyes. There was a story there but she would not pry. “Well I remembered you talking about this place and I’m in Chicago now so I had to stop by,” she said with a shrug.

“You know each other?” The man who had taken her order asked, leaning on the counter and looking their way.

“We worked together in New York,” Sophie said after a beat when Carmy didn’t offer anything more, just continued looking her over.

“I have to get back there.” Carmy gestured to the kitchen. “Eat. I’ll be back out in a minute.”

Sophie nodded and gave a small wave, feeling a bit silly as she did it. The man she had joked with earlier was still eyeing her over. He seemed to give in to his curiosity as he walked back and sat down at the chair across from her, making her smile.

“I’m Richie,” he introduced himself. “And you’re Sophie,” saying her name in a way that made it clear he knew something about her.

“That’s me,” she agreed. Waiting for more. He didn’t say anything. She looked at Richie then down at her food. He gestured for her to eat and she did.

She took a bite of the sandwich and held back a groan. It was amazing. Of course it was, it was Carmy’s work. She missed his cooking almost as much as his companionship. They had taken to cooking for each other the last few months he was in NYC. She had never eaten anything as good as the dinner he had made for them the night before he left for Copenhagen. The memory flooded her mind as she took another bite of the sandwich before setting it down. She hummed happily and closed her eyes.

Sometimes she missed cooking. There was something magic in a good bite of food. But the stress of the kitchen had gotten to her. And besides, she had chased another dream. She wouldn’t let herself dwell on the what if’s for too long.

“That is a fucking amazing sandwich,” she said, looking to Richie. His mouth twitched in a smile but he was clearly still thinking. “Did you have a question?” she asked, looking him over after taking a drink from her pop.

“You and Carmy?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

She took a moment before understanding his meaning and got annoyed at herself when she felt her cheeks warm. “Friends,” she said, definitively. “We worked together for a few months before he went to Noma,” she added.

He hummed, considering the statement but the smirk was still on his face. The door opened with a chime and Richie stood. “Welcome to Chicago, Sophie,” he said to her before turning to welcome the new customers.

She had finished her sandwich by the time Carmy returned. He walked over and clapped both hands over the chair next to hers, leaning against it to look down at her. “What’s the word?” he asked.

“Compliments to the chef. Best sandwich I’ve had in a long time. Only topped by a peanut butter and jelly I had in the summer of 2020,” she said. She would be embarrassed to admit how frequently she thought about that peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was the height of Covid and she had gotten sick and had to take off work. She was locked up in her crappy apartment with her very unhelpful roommates. Carmy had checked in on her every day over text and at one point she complained about having nothing to eat and how desperately she craved a pb&j. He had dropped off what, at the time, tasted like the most amazing sandwich she had ever had. Raspberry jam, simple salted peanut butter, amazing fluffy bread. She smiled every time she thought of it.

He huffed a laugh and pulled the chair out to sit beside her. “What are you doing here?” he asked as he sat. “You cooking in Chicago now?”

“Not full time. I did a guest spot a few weeks ago at Ever. But I’m just here for my sister,” she said, not wanting to get into too many details. She glanced over to the counter. The big guy with the beard and the cap seemed to be giggling and looking over at her. She turned back to Carmy and nervously tapped her fingers on the table.

He was still looking at her, his eyes seemed to see right through her. He could always read her too well. He glanced over towards the counter and shook his head with a sigh. “That’s Fak. He works here. Sort of.”

She nodded, not understanding at all. She felt terribly awkward. And she hated that. But she didn’t know what to say. Too much had happened and it didn’t feel like the time or place to say any of it.

“Ever. I worked there for a while. Chef Terry is fantastic,” Carmy said.

“She really is. It’s the only reason I agreed. I had just gone to eat and she offered me a spot when she was going to be cooking elsewhere. Got to make a small menu and everything. It was good,” she said, blurting out more than she planned. It always happened with Carmy. “I saw your picture there.” She smiled.

Carmy’s mouth twitched, the nearest he would get to a smile, and then looked away. “You look good,” he said, then clearly felt awkward as he leaned back in his seat. “I just mean– you know how things were when I left.”

“Yeah, I’m doing better." She had gotten better. She was having trouble eating back in those days. She wasn’t sleeping much either. The stress of working at Eleven Madison Park had gotten to her. She was fairly certain that is why Carmy would bring in snacks for her. And why he had started their ‘dinners’-- really midnight meals. What had started with Carmy dragging her along when he would get takeout after work, turned into him cooking for her. Eventually they got into a rhythm where they would take turns cooking for each other. She was fairly certain she would have burned out far sooner without his routine.

She wanted to ask him more. Tell him about what was going on in her life. It had always seemed so simple. But now there was no reason. They didn’t work together. He had ignored her messages after he left, though she did not really blame him for that. It was a friendship of convenience. Forced cohabitation. She may have wanted it to be more but she had grown since then.

Still, she felt she owed him. She had thanked him, over text. But she wanted to say something. He had kept her going all those months.

“New York was shit without you, by the way.” It was the truth and a joke and the best she could come up with.

He let out an amused huff, his eyes jumping back to her own. She knew she was blushing but hoped enough foundation remained on her face for it to not be terribly noticeable. His eyes were too expressive. She was pretty sure she had fallen for him, a little, the first time he looked at her like he was right then.

He tapped his fingers on the table. “This is short notice. But I have a chef working on adding desserts to the menu. So far he has been figuring out a recipe for a chocolate cake. If you have time, I’d appreciate another set of eyes.”

“I’d love to,” she responded with a cautious smile.

The front door opened and four more customers walked in. Richie called out to them right away, clearly they were regulars.

“Back to work?” she asked him, when she caught him looking at the newcomers.

“Back to the kitchen. See you later chef?”

“Yes, chef.”

[hunter-sylvester]

Rating Hunter Sylvester's Outfits

Cause I'm gay, let's go Putting the outfits in the order of when they appear in the film, rather than a ranked order. Since many get the same rating. Please take this with the lighthearted intent it was written in.

With gifs~

1. Sleeveless Madhouse. It’s very good. I like it a lot. We take note of the nail polish, we enjoy it while we can, it will disappear shortly. 8/10

2. The Flannel Trooper Technically this is the second outfit we see Hunter in. It belongs more to a later scene but that’s just this film’s odd relationship with continuity and time. It’s also his worst fucking outfit. I don’t know if he just does not suit plaid. I certainly think the jeans don’t quite work. Whatever it is, it’s not great. Love the Iron Maiden shirt, tho. 4/10

3. The Hidden Shock Shirt ft. The Jacket™ Solid outfit, love that edgy shit for Hunter. Want that shirt. Debut of the denim jacket. Sadly includes the grey jeans that I do not fuck with. 8/10.

4. Misfits At A Party We love an all black vibe. Striking Misfits skull, all around a great look. 9/10.

5. Judas Brat Another all black number. With or without the black denim jacket, it's a major vibe. I like the all-black converse. Very good. 9/10.

6. The Last Supper for Hunter's full head of hair. Second to worst outfit in my opinion. It's basically a copy of the third outfit but without any of the flavor. 5/10.

7. Slayer Shirt For The Hurt Calling this a comfort outfit. I like it a lot. Shirt looks kinda worn and soft and it’s a good level of oversized. Those fucking grey jeans again tho. But black converse, so~ 8/10.

8. No Sleeves No Chill Debut of the newly altered battle jacket as well as the earring. We also get the T-Shirt referencing the film's tagline, very good. The scribbled on 'tattoos' are so stupid and I love them. 9/10

9. The Violent Outfit Of Reason Back to all black! And it looks comfy. I love it. I actually really like the, what looks like, black cargo pants??? This outfit was me at 13. Seriously, it looks like it was plucked straight from my teenage closet. I'm gonna be biased. (Tbf I would 100% wear this now, as is the case for most of his outfits.) 9/10

10. Completely Gay The sleeveless shirts are a gift that keeps on giving. (also the faded shitty little scribbled on 'tattoos') 8/10

11. The Best Outfit This is it. This is the best one. Hands down, his best outfit. One may count the Rhoads as a part of the outfit idgaf, it’s his best outfits regardless. The silhouette, the battle jacket, the symbolism. Chef’s kiss. 10/10

12. Gym Shorts eheheheheheheheh look at him 7/10

13. Ready For Battle We’re considering the corpse paint as part of the outfit. It’s so very extra in the best way possible. The fact that they fit 2 continuity errors into 1 outfit and have the blue light randomly turn off, it's great. Bonus points for Demonias~ (That collar looks so uncomfortably snug tho but I wear them really fuckin' loose when I do so maybe this is normal?????) 9/10

14. Rehab Boy #1 I actually really like his rehab outfits???? Idk I think they're cute. I mean I don't fully get WHY Hunter has to wear sweats when everyone else in rehab seems to just be in their own clothes????? I'm guessing Alan "Father Of The Year" Sylvester, dropped him off without any change of clothes, so these were probably provided by the rehab center. 7.5/10

15. Rehab boy #2 See entry 14, but beige. 7.5/10

16. Battle Of The Bands I like it but I am SEVERELY disappointed by the LACK of eyeliner. I just think it could be more extra. Like mf really pulled out a custom Jackson but couldn't whack on some eyeliner or smth. We know Hunter can do extra, so give me extra. Still like it tho. 8/10

17. Reformed Asshole At first I really didn’t like how they put Hunter in a very light outfit now that he’s ‘nice’ like some cliche visual shorthand. But I’ve grown to love the outfit over time. It looks comfy. Cute hurt boy vibes imo. 9/10

[leyia]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲,

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐀𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 : 𝐔𝐍𝐈/𝐀𝐔

Summary : it’s your last semester attending Cameron-College electives. While taking a stroll on campus grounds, you reminisce about the old times.

Pairings : Fem!y/n x group dynamics

𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌

Rumour had it you were dating a pro NBA player, but actually he’s a /10 malewife

You both began hooking up when his younger brother played matchmaker at a Frat-Party & Neteyam drunkenly confessed

His love language are acts of service, making sure to always squeeze in between your tight schedule to pop a kiss or slide a note in your locker : “Dinner is in the fridge, your favourite. I’ll be waiting -Nete”

He’s a great chef on a small budget & lets you experiment on his nails

On the opposite spectrum, you studied astronomy, joining the « Pandora Program (PP) » to learn more about Avatars and the Na’avi

You weren’t aware yet, but your boyfriend was preparing to propose before your expatriate expedition with the Resources Development Administration (RDA)

He loves bragging to everyone about how bright and beautiful you are. Never skips a day counting his blessings

Each time he’d win a sports meet, you’d buy him fresh flowers and wine to celebrate

You once told him he’d look hot with tribal tattoos, so the next day he called up (your cousin) Anoung to fix him a chest piece.

𝐋𝐎𝐀’𝐊

You were childhood friends/ more like a babysitter really, this kid was hyper high maintenance

His favourite drink was redbull so “play-fighting” was just an excuse to body-slam

Y’all would pull out the UNO over drinks in the boy’s dorms on late nights. But over weekends you’d KO him at Smash-Bros ft. Kiri and Spider

He once asked Tsireya to rebraid his hair, but she accidentally gave him a mohawk instead

Grocery Shopping would also escalate into Kart racing while Teyam tries to find yovo spices in the seasoning aisle. You were obviously the responsible one, paying / with the bigger wallet *ahem..

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑

Miles Socorro came to Cameron’s as an international exchange student (midway throughout exam season). You weren’t close at first, but Kiri introduced him

Jake volunteered as tribute to teach him how to drive over the weekend (cuz the boy helped their committee in organising events etc..) Almost crashed into a tree

You had one computer science class in common. He’d often draw little spiders on your notes, and you’d scribble stars on his

Lo’ak nicknamed him “Spider” as he wouldn’t shut it about the new Across the Spiders-Verse Marvel Movie

He also owned a ticktok vlog account which blew up like crazy after his friends stuck posters inviting the whole campus to see him do a cartwheel.. That’s how Miles became the school mascot.

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈

Kiri was like a sister to you. Growing up together, she took a liking to the books you read about Pandora’s flora

Most days you’d find her cooped up in the public library doing her own research

On Sundays you’d hunt for antiques and old-denim at the thrift store (your happy place)

Sleepovers at Kiri’s were always chaotic. Last time she had bought plants and homewear from IKEA, so her brothers had to drop in & help build the furniture (tho they got the sides wrong and had to restart).

𝐓𝐔𝐊 

Neytiri and little Tuktirey would Face-Time from time to time. Neteyam told you today was her first day at school, apparently she made lots of friends ♪

* 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐭��𝐞𝐫 “𝑭𝒖𝒏 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔” 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝..