#and will hopefully have the capacity soon...

[lucalicatteart]

Finally finished my weird hanging painting thing (originally a secondhand partially-done 'paint by numbers' kit that I found at a thrift store and kept to repurpose lol)! Imagery somewhat based in my own worldbuilding projects, and text written in my constructed language for one of my fantasy species, but also vaguely inspired by old tapestries and illuminated manuscripts and etc. I've never been great at neat clean patterning or text, but it looks cool from afar, and I always enjoy making "props" or things that are somewhat like real objects that might could exist in my world. :0

(additional pictures/info under the readmore)

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Here's what it was originally! I probably didn't have to actually have a river running down the middle because it further makes the composition of the whole thing weird (various connected yet separate locations and things happening, instead of one unified event being portrayed), but I wasn't sure if I'd be able to fully cover up the already existing paint that was there.. and I can also kind of justify it by going with a more "all the imagery is just symbolic so it doesn't have to make exact sense" approach lol.. How is one half of the grass green and the other is suddenly snowy? shhhh.. it's not literal.. shhh...

Made a vague sketch, then painted over it, and then added more distinct lines in black pen. Center image first and border second.

The very last thing was the text, which actually took forever to translate because my conlang is still only like.. partially done, and some of the grammar is not worked out exactly how I would like it to be, so a few sentences I had to think about for a long time before just going "eh, this is probably not how I would do it if I considered it more, but I'll go with it for now" lol . I also am not entirely satisfied with all of the characters for the writing system, but again, it's good enough for a quick project, it doesn't have to be 100% accurate and perfect because it's a fake language that nobody knows anyway lol.

I thought about breaking down the text and translation here like I have for some of the tidbits of Avirrekava (the language) in things I've posted in the past, but I think it would take too long and is not interesting to anyone but me ghghj, so for the sake of getting the post out quickly, I shall not spend an hour typing All That lol.

The general jist of the writing though is that it's just about the Avirre'thel being cast out from the other elves, after abandoning their magic for immortality as a means to truly attain perfection (an important concept in elven culture), the usual, blah blah blah, but how it's Actually A Good Thing, because the gods are wrong and immortality is Cool actually and they like the shitty frozen lands they were sent to, so it's fine that everyone else is being a Hater about it lol

Lastly, here's a few photos outside in the sun to TRY and show the gold detailing actually shimmering or showing up! It really doesn't come through in photos, but there's plenty of little golden spots to highlight light or Importance.

Mostly the fire, the pink sparkle that represents magic, the red drop that represents blood, the light behind Inaashi's hands and head (common symbol for the elven religion/one of their main gods, shout out to anyone who read the ancient elven religion post and recognized that lol), the sun, and the symbol for the Avirre'thel/country of Navyete at the very top. I did a few other gold bits, but they're not highlighted because they're Significant, more just that it looked more symmetrical to have some gold on the border too lol.

Other things of note: The animals are not actually significant to Avirre'thel culture really, I just wanted to put a cat and a bird because I like them lol. (I also wanted to have a few funny looking creatures, as I was slightly trying to go with the 'in some old medieval painting the anatomy and perspective is very weird' vibe, though I think some of the other parts of it look too Normal to pull it off entirely). Same with the four leaf clover, which means nothing in their culture - but these are the only areas where stuff was just added self-indulgently .

Bligabata (giant cabbage that grows along rivers in Navyete) making an appearance! The architecture of the building IS based on actual concepts for ancient elven/older Avirre'thel architecture and metalwork. The Avirre'thel who's turning away from Inaashi/elves/magic and collecting blood, is doing so in a Special Bowl, as is part of their culture (collecting it in the hands, or just in a normal vessel would be disrespectful, they have Specific Bowls which is the only thing blood can be kept in, etc.).

The figure that represents Jhevona (and thus, a closer connection to magic, celestial imagery, etc.) is in weird ugly teal, which is not necessarily a color or design associated with them, as I don't have much common culture (like clothing) worked out for Northern Jhevona (who the avirre'thel would have come into contact with) yet, BUT everyone else is in more Typical colors (a northern elf in green, Inaashi in lavender + white + blue, an Avirre'thel in darker purples and reds).

Some things, like the four figures in the corners, and the two people + fish in the stream, do not currently have a meaning, but in-world they would.. Like, I could make up lore for how they're culturally significant and it would be true because I am god of the world, but I don't have anything currently. But just know.. they DO mean something, I just haven't decided it yet, maybe kind of fill in as I go, come up with a meaning later lol. Probably along the lines of an old myth from the ancient elven religion, a story, etc.

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I don't know, probably other stuff, but that's my Trying To Keep It Short rambling for now lol. I'm just glad I finally finished this! For how vaguely sloppy it is up close (everything being completely freehanded, only used rulers once when doing the initial sketch and lining where the border should be + my hands are shaky + the canvas is bumpy + my handwriting is scratchy and terrible + etc. etc.) it still took a REALLY long time, even when not trying to make it all perfect. Especially if including the text translation + writing, which took like 3+ hours itself.

Maybe all the asymmetry/lack of things being centered is NOT because I was too lazy to measure anything, but is actually because in-universe, it's a practice illustration made by some young apprentice who has to work on little canvases for years before he can be trusted will a full sized mural or tapestry. It's his first week on the job! of course he's uncoordinated! don't laugh at him!!! lol

[leondxs]

crying bc you're mad is a whole new level of rage

[dallonwrites]

i am a flash and micro boy i love flash and micro but i am missing NOVELS!! at this point the vibe is drafting + editing the flashes in my brain as much as possible in september so i can get silly with novels all through october-november

[moonbeamwritings]

i’ve been effectively decommissioned by a possible sinus infection and all of a sudden my brain’s like fic ideas!? FIC IDEAS NOW!

[nateslehky]

this fic is sooo close to being done

[arolou]

i want you to love me (but don’t fall in love)

Relationship: Flynn/Carrie

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.1k

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - College/University, Aromantic Flynn Taylor, Aromantic Carrie Wilson, Best Friends, Platonic Kissing, Friends With Benefits, But Like The T-Rated Iteration Of That, Misunderstandings, Background Alex/Willie and Julie/Luke/Reggie, Harold They’re Aromantics!

Flynn loves kissing Carrie.

It’s something she never thought she’d get to have – all the intimacy and connection she can’t help but crave without those dreaded strings that wind around her ankles and wrists and shackle her to the ground. With Carrie there’s no pressure to define anything, no checklist to pour over, just a pretty girl she cares about who leans in halfway through a study session or right outside Flynn’s dorm room and kisses her breath away, followed up by a breezy “See you later!” instead of the murmured declarations their friends exchange like a few hours apart is tantamount to torture.

Or: Flynn and Carrie are aromantic besties. God bless.

AO3 link in reblogs!!

[amimere]

Tdf day one

today was supposed to be for plying singles, but because of the current heat knocking me tf out i was half a bobbin behind at the start lf the day

i have managed to finish said bobbin and i have plied one full bobbin of two ply, i do however doubt that i will finish plying tonight since i need to ply all the singles i have allready and there are 6 full-ish bobbins worth

so plying will hopefully be finished tomorrow, wich is also when i will have to take a little trip to pock up a drum carder om borrowing for the rest of the summer! wich is very sorely needed since i only have my gray batts left before om out of prepeared wool for this spesific project

i have taken some pretty pictures allready and i hope to share them tomorrow!

[fairuzfan]

Is there anything I can do to help Palestinians besides call my representatives and beg them to stop killing people?

This is a great question. There are a few things you can do—just off the top of my head:

BDS (Boycott, Divest, Sanction) https://bdsmovement.net/

Direct Action https://www.palestineaction.org/

Urge your University/School/Organization to put out a statement denouncing Israel

Organize a Protest/Participate in a local one

You might already be doing this but while calling your reps, tell them that as a voter, you're unwilling to support them in the upcoming election unless they urge the White House to take a stand against Israel and stop funding them

Share art/writing/films around Palestinian culture

If you're part of a union, ask them what they're doing to urge their industry leaders to take a stand against Israel + pressure the White House OR urge them to start a strike/walkout/etc if they're not doing anything already

Talk with your friends IRL about Palestine, whether in an activist capacity or watching a movie or literally anything

Reach out to a mosque to see if you can help them with anything

See if your city/state council has put out a statement in support of Gazans. If not, try to push them to do so.

Donate to Palestine Legal or Direct Action if you have some money to spare

KEEP TALKING ON SOCIAL MEDIA!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know some of these don't feel like they have as big of an impact on helping Palestinians, but we do need to make an effort not to forget their humanity in the face of continued erasure and the media's sensationalist rhetoric.

Talking on social media and posting—while not seeming like a lot—does SO much. I know in USAmerica, it's like yelling into a void, but political analysts are saying that most of the "Global South" has completely lost any amount of goodwill it may have had the past few years. Hopefully, countries will start to put sanctions and embargoes en masse on the US and Israel soon.

Our goals here are BOTH short-term and long-term. We hope for the life and liberation of the Palestinian people, so anything that you can think of might help at some point in the future is encouraged to at least try.

If anyone else has any more ideas, feel free to reblog and add on. Thank you for asking, and here is to a liberated Palestine where Palestinians can live and thrive without fear.

[chiimeraangel]

almost through my second week of work and feeling so...drained. barely done anything but my god...

[rootbeerworshiper]

anti-social

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: what matt was really doing instead of attending tara yummys party

warnings: smut!!! um car sex, p in v, thigh riding, dom!matt, not proofread

a/n: kinda ditched u guys for a week hopefully this makes up for it ily

love, sienna <3

parties were not your scene in any capacity.

it’s not like you’re overly introverted, but the pure chaos that comes with parties was never something that spoke to you—and oh my god getting hit on by a bunch of gross men added to your discernment towards the large, alcohol fuelled events.

this all being said, you’re also an influencer in LA and that comes with a territory that was unfamiliar to you when you first moved to the sunny state.

it’s difficult to get your name out there in a space filled with people just like you, people hungry for any form of relevance they can gather from their peers.

for whatever reason, influencer parties were a way to get yourself out there, creating more opportunity for youtube collaborations and just overall friendships.

real friends aren’t easy to come by out here, too many people becoming easily blinded by an amount of recognition and it’s easy to become fake—especially when you see friendships as transactional.

this was your least favourite part of LA, the part that was more different than anything else you’d experienced back home.

regardless of all the cons you could continue to list for LA parties, they were needed and encouraged by your manager, so you went, more often than you’d like to.

like tonight.

a few weeks ago one of your friends in the space, Tara, invited you to her one million celebration along with her birthday party and it’s not something you could pass up, so you RSVP’d instantly.

you first interacted with the girl when a few of your fans began telling you how funny of a duo you two would be together, and she dm’d you not long after.

she was real. amongst all the fake in this city she was very much herself, and she took you under her wing as you navigated this new lifestyle which you were eternally grateful for.

the one thing you did opt out of was going in the party bus to the party, if you were going to have a fun night you needed peace and calm right before you entered the chaotic headspace.

it takes a while for you to get ready, spending special time on your makeup and hair in order to present yourself properly—plus, it’s a tara yummy party, you sort’ve have to go all out.

you finish getting completely ready, giving yourself a moment to look in the mirror— it’s safe to say you feel stupid.

sporting a small dark red lace camisole and a black leather mini skirt along with chunky black boots that cut off just below your knee is completely out of character for you but that’s not necessarily a bad thing for a night like tonight.

if you stand here too long hyper analyzing the whole outfit you’ll inevitably change into something more you, so you’re quick to throw on an oversized leather jacket and head out of your apartment.

the uber ride is short lived because of the surprising lack of traffic littering the well lit streets.

soon enough you were at the venue, the loud music pouring through the small spaces in the door frame. you sigh, taking in one last moment of silence before opening the door and engulfing yourself in the complete chaos of a tara yummy party.

if the sound wasn’t overwhelming enough, the bright lights flashing throughout the space took the cake for what caused you the most grief.

it was a conscious decision to come pretty late, the later you come the less people are gonna ask why you’re not drinking, most of them distracted by the alcohol that pools in their kale-filled stomachs.

as you walk in you look around for familiar faces but struggle to see anyone you actually know, opting to grab a soda and lean against a random wall—people watching was a skill that definitely came easy to you.

drunk people were annoying to an extent, sure, but part of you envied the care free nature of it all, and as long as they weren’t pressuring you to take shots you actually preferred it to completely sober interactions.

its hard to hear anything in this environment, screams and music fully encapsulating your body, but soon enough you hear a mumble to your left.

you immediately turn your head, detaching the drink from your lips to look at the figure who’s standing next to you.

you’re sure you’ve seen him before, but the lack of proper lighting or a name to the face leaves you lost for a real identity.

“sorry what did you say?” you yell over the music, leaning in slightly to the boy next to you, your ears now focused on whatever words may leave his mouth.

he leans in too. “is that a rootbeer?” he inquires and a smile forms on your face.

part of you was worried his only plan was to hit on you, or make fun of you for something out of your control, but the innocence of the question was endearing. “it is, it’s my favourite drink ever, i could have so many and never get sick of it”

he smiles, sipping on his drink that looks all too familiar. “mine too. how do you know tara?” he yells again.

“i met her a few months ago for a collab and we just sorta clicked, im not too good at the whole influencer thing” you laugh a little to yourself at your self deprecating humour. “what about you? you look familiar”

“i only met her a few days ago, me and my brothers do youtube and everyone wanted a collab so we’ve just been hanging out” he replies, fingernails making their way in between his lips.

“oh fun! i’m y/n by the way” you reach your hand out to shake his.

it’s hard to ignore the tension that forms from a simple handshake. “Matt” he says simply, introducing himself.

you’re hands linger for a moment longer before you remind yourself to pull away from his grasp.

his eyes take a moment to dart down at your silhouette taking in the sight of you as your own gaze focuses on your surroundings, completely oblivious to the way Matt’s licking his lips—he can’t think about anything else but you.

the random girl he saw standing alone at a party filled with annoying people holding up camera, holding his favourite drink. “so are you from here?” he says, breaking open the tension.

you let out a small sigh of relief, it was always easier for you to talk to people that carried the conversation, especially when they look as good as he does. “no i just moved here a little less than a year ago?” you question momentarily to yourself. “i’m from Boston”

his eyes widen at your statement. “no way, me too” he smiles, running his ring covered hand through his hair.

it’s impossible not to stare at least a little bit, his fingers could genuinely put you in a trance—how good you’re sure he is with them, how much of your throat they could cover-

you can’t get ahead of yourself, these are thoughts you need to keep in the comfort of your own home.

“do you wanna give me your number? maybe we could continue this conversation when we can actually hear each other?” you ask, a sudden boldness coursing through your veins.

“sure id like that” he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, but before he can even hand it to you a familiar hand is dragging you into the crowd.

“you need to loosen up y/n its a tara yummy party cmonnnn” tara groans, fully encapsulating you in dancing bodies before you can even look back at Matt.

you shake it off, forgetting about the cute boy and refocusing on not looking like an idiot in front of so many people.

dancing is definitely a lot easier when you realize no one cares what you’re doing, and when you like the song that’s playing.

so you let loose as tara suggested, arms swaying in the air while you grin looking at your friend, your hands taking turns groping your sides as your hips move to the rhythm of the music.

for once you feel confident, hot even.

not a care in the world because it’s just you—and the brunette boy who’s leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, entranced in your dancing without your knowledge.

you’re actually having fun, singing along to numerous songs on the dance floor alongside influencers who are all wasted out of their minds.

for a moment, through the loud music and the abundance of shining lights you feel a hand place itself on your lower back with a sense of firmness that made you shutter.

before you can even fully turn around, you establish that it’s Matt’s hand based on the way he leans into your neck, speaking in your ear. “back doors in 5” he walks away, his fingers lingering on your bare back longer than you knew what to do with.

what changed?

Matt was a cute nervous guy who loves rootbeer and now he’s whispering your ears and turning you on without even looking at you.

you watch him walk away, joining the mess of a crowd and getting completely lost out of your sight.

5 minutes.

you just have to act completely normal for five more minutes and then your casually meeting up with some guy you just met.

this kinda thing usually fills your stomach with anxiety and fear of the unknown, but right now? you’re more excited than you’ve ever been.

thoughts of Matt flooded your brain and soon enough the five minutes were up, it’s safe to say you walked through the crowd a little faster than normal, eager to see what the boy had in store.

after what feels like forever you get to the back door, the brunette no where to be seen.

you feel like an idiot, getting your hopes up for some youtuber who probably just had fun messing with your innocence, toying with it like a fucking slinky.

after what you consider to be a desperate amount of waiting at the door you give up, the last thing you are is a lost puppy awaiting its owner’s arrival.

you let out a small sigh of disappointment, trying to ignore the lump in your throat that forms as you make your way back into the crowd.

before you get far, you bump into someone who’s practically running through the open space cluttered with people dancing, a light sting entering your shoulder. “what the fuck is your problem?” you say, a little more pissed off after you got stranded.

this is until you make eye contact with the body you collided with, a familiar set of blue eyes looking down at you. “i’m sorry i was coming i swear but Chris needed me for something and-“

“you’re okay, i just thought you left me” you smile grabbing his shoulders to stabilize his rapid thoughts that are clearly over taking him.

he lets out a breath of air, smiling back at you but still licking his lips with a sense of hunger that made you melt beneath his gaze.

“let’s go, yeah?” he places his hand in your own and begins to lead you out of the venue. in all actuality you shouldn’t be leaving with him, but he’s hot and he’s kind and the way his voice puts you in a trance has you needing him in ways unfathomable.

it’s a short walk to outside but you immediately feel better with the fresh air entering your lungs, your chest expanding the moment you leave the sweaty party space.

Matt seemed to feel the same relief, you can also see him a lot better now, the street lights illuminating his face making you realize just how attractive he is.

you weren’t even entirely sure what his plans were, but being anywhere but that party was all you needed. “i hate parties so much” you say, beginning to walk along the sidewalk, most likely walking to his car parked somewhere on the street.

“me too, my brothers are always convincing me to go to them but it’s actually my worst nightmare” he replies, hands placed in his pockets as you walk.

“how many brothers do you have?” you ask.

he smiles, as if the mere thought of his family was enough to bring him joy. “i have three but i’m a triplet actually”

“no way!” you grab ahold of his shoulder, an excited habit of yours that you haven’t been able to kick. “that’s so fun i wish”

he presses the key fob latched onto his jeans by a clip and you see an suv unlock ahead of you as you walk, its lights brightening up the space around the vehicle.

you open the door to the passenger seat, the boy walking around to enter the driver seat. “do you have anywhere you wanna go?” he asks, looking at you as you buckle your seat belt.

“anywheres fine with me i just could not be at that party any more” you reply, now fully situated and earning a nod from Matt.

it’s tight street parking and it definitely will not be easy for him to pull out, but he turns on music, mac miller now playing softly through the speaker as he reaches his arm back behind your seat to back out.

you try to focus on anything else, but the way his hand grips the gear causing his veins to become more defined has you shifting in your seat, subconsciously trying to relieve the tension forming between your legs. “i like your rings” you say shyly, failing to mention the ways you want to feel the cold metal inside of you.

“yeah?” what you don’t know is the way his pants are straining from the sight of your plush thighs squeezing together on his leather seats, how badly he wants to be in between them. “i like em too”

you cough, trying to mask the way his words made you feel. “how come you don’t like parties?”

he checks over his shoulder, changing lanes before turning into a park parking lot. “i’m a little anti social when it comes to that kinda stuff”

“just social with me then?” you ask, hoping to keep this conversation going in the right direction.

he scoffs with a smile on his face, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning back into his seat, spreading his legs slightly as he makes himself comfortable. “yeah just you”

it’s silent for a second, you let different responses to matt’s words linger in your head before finally speaking, your own seat belt now unbuckled as well. “what made me so approachable?” you lean into him slightly, placing your elbow on the centre console and holding your chin up by your hand.

he holds your eye contact, leaning in slightly closer. “well at first it was your smile” he lifts his hand to trace along your jaw, you immediately swallow the lump in your throat.

“then it was how you look in that skirt” his hand makes its way to your hair, fingers grazing your scalp as he mumbles.

“and then” he leans in now, lips aligned with your ear. “it was the way your hands traced over your own body, how desperately you wanted me to see you like that, how desperately i wanted those hands to be mine” his left hand grazes over your bare leg, lightly swaying it back and forth causing you to shiver.

he doesn’t break eye contact once. “Matt please” you beg, not specifying what it is that you need from him.

“what do you want?” his lips make contact with your neck, placing soft kisses along every sensitive spot. you bite your lip to drown out any pathetic whimpers that threaten to leave your mouth, the sensation of the neck kisses alone have you soaked.

you breath pretty heavily, focused on the way his cold rings threaten to make their way to your inner thighs as he speaks. “i want-“ his thumb places a teasing pressure to your clothed aching clit. “i want those hands to be yours”

“there you go, wasn’t so hard was it?” he teases, your legs spreading apart subconsciously, your core begging to be touched.

but he continues his slow movements, his mouth now working its way to your bare collarbone, your back arching into his delicate touch.

before his lips can make their way to you chest you stop him, your finger interfering with his actions, guiding his face up to yours. “kiss me please” you whisper, begging for a sense of intimacy and innocence.

he smiles, breaking his tough guy persona slightly as he leans in to meet his lips to yours. somehow, although you were strangers a mere hour ago, it feels comfortable.

the comfort switches to passion quickly, his hand squeezing your thigh as your tongue slides into his mouth.

it’s short lived before he’s leaning out of the kiss and moving his seat back in one motion, legs spread with room for you on top. he motions for you to come over but for whatever reason your mentally stuck in your seat, frozen in fear at the realization of what’s happening.

“don’t act all shy now baby c’mere” his hands place a light pressure to the sides of your hips guiding you over the console and onto his thigh.

you look down at him, smiling like a goof because you’re on top of a hot boy in a parking lot. “hi”

your arms find solitude on his shoulder to balance yourself, his hands still on your hips as his thigh bone has you weak on top of him.

he keeps one hand on your lower back, the other reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, fully taking in the sight above him. “you’re so beautiful”

your eyes widen at the sentence, taking compliments was never easy for you especially not in this setting. “okay stop” you push him slightly, breaking eye contact to avoid getting flustered.

he turns your chin forcing you to look at him again, leaning into your face. “you are beautiful” he kisses you before you can even deny it. his fingers are quick to toy with the hem of your small shirt, the same shirt that had his mouth watering earlier—the same shirt your delicate fingers ran over as you danced.

“lift” he mumbles, causing you to lift up your arms without a second thought, completely forgetting that you made the decision to not wear a bra tonight.

the look in his eyes is one of pure hunger, your chest displayed right in his eye-line, it takes everything in him to fight back a small moan from the sight alone.

he places a few more teasing kisses along your collarbone while his hands make small circles on your exposed chest. “are you gonna use me to get yourself off pretty girl?” he asks, now taking on hand to guide your hips, rocking them on his thigh with a smirk on his face.

you just nod, too embarrassed to say the words out loud and his mouth immediately makes contact with your left nipple, using the tip of his tongue to lap around the bud. without further hesitation you begin to grind your hips into his leg, his hands now pulling up your skirt lightly to allow more movement.

the consistent pressure of his upper thigh on your clothed clit has you hiding your face in the crook of his neck, not wanting him to see your face as it’s riddled with looks of pleasure.

his hand continues to guide your hips onto him, your fingers interlaced in his hair as let you out muffled moans into his neck. his lips can’t help but form a smirk as the pace of your hips increases, the pleasure building in your stomach at the continues sensation. “such a fucking slut for me, getting off on some strangers thigh” he mumbles, his hands grabbing your ass, squeezing it under the skirt.

you squeeze your legs around his thigh, body chasing more pressure as the pleasure continues to roll through your hips. at this point your a moaning mess, as embarrassed as you are you physically can’t hold back. “mmh fuck matt”

the whiny words leaving your mouth have an effect on his that he wasn’t expecting, his length only increasing at the sound of your noises. he shifts you up slightly, selfishly placing your clothed core on his own center, the buldge giving you something to grind on. “fuck just like that there you go”

he fights back his own moans, still using his hands to force you closer on to him, your pace going faster as a familiar throbbing in your clit signals your closeness. “i’m-“ you let out yet another moan. “close”

Matt lifts his hips slightly, his bulge hitting you exactly where you needed, your legs squeezing around him as you reach you high, his hands not stopping the motion once as your fingers pull on his hair. “okay okay” you sigh, out of breath and exhausted.

you kiss him again, it’s safe to say you’re addicted to it and he definitely does not mind, what he doesn’t expect though is your hand that cups his bulge mid kiss, causing his open to open slightly, unable to kiss you back at the sensation of your hand on him. “fuck don’t tease me baby”

you giggle slightly at how easily you were able to make him fold. “you gonna ride me or what?”

you don’t even answer, instead your lips find comfort in kissing his neck while his hands make their way back to your chest, your nipples completely hardened above him, his hot breath making you squirm under his closeness.

he takes his shirt off and you can’t help but stare for a moment, the vast amount of tattoos are a turn on you didn’t know applied to you. “stop staring and do something” he demands, causing you to unbutton his pants and slide the down slightly, just enough to spring his length free.

you waste no time spreading the pre cum on his tip causing him to shutter slightly. “cmon baby you know what to do”

deep down you know you could give in, you know you could immediately sink onto him and give him what he wants—but that’s no fun.

so instead you time your time, running his tip along your underwear so that you can still receive a small amount of pleasure from your teasing, licking a stripe along his jaw.

what you weren’t expecting was Matt’s hand interfering, sliding your underwear to the side and immediately inserting himself into your center, thrusting upwards without giving you a chance to adjust. “if you’re gonna act like a brat you’re gonna get fucked like one”

you can even mumble out a reply, the feeling of his length hitting your g-spot repeatedly at a speed you have yet to experience has you practically biting his shoulder, squeezing onto his sides as his pace doesn’t let once.

the sight of your tits bouncing up and down with every thrust is enough to make Matt crazy, and the combination of your moans, he could be here like this forever—but he can’t because the way you rolled your hips on his clothed dick already almost made him cum, and him inside of you? he won’t last.

you’re close too but still unable to speak coherent sentences, Matt’s hand sliding down in between your bodies to play with you clit while his thrusts continue.

you are fucked out of your mind to say the very least, eyes rolled back, toes circling, just gone.

lifting your head, you make eye contact with him, the sight of his face that’s currently lost in pleasure is enough to send you over the edge, his fingers still gliding along your puffy clit as he fills you up.

this time he’s the one leaning in for a kiss. “you’re amazing” he mumbles, fully encapsulating your lips with his own once more.

it’s peaceful like this for a moment, soft kisses being shared back and forth, music still playing through the speakers—this is until you hear a phone ring.

Matt’s getting a facetime call. “fuck” he mutters, reaching for his phone to see his brothers contact photo. “just be quiet please?” you nod, smiling slightly.

he answers the call for a quick moment, a camera on the other end pointing at his face temporarily. he simply assures his brothers that he’ll be back to pick them up and he hangs up as soon as possible. “sorry” he leans into your neck, kissing softly.

you just laugh in return. “it’s okay we did kinda ditch everyone”

“i’d do it again in a heart beat” he smiles into you, completely let go of his intense demeanour from earlier.

you trace small lines on his chest, his hands laying softly on your sides. “i still need your number” you mumble, biting your lip as you look at the boy.

“you think?” he teases, grabbing his phone and going to the phone app.

“fuck off Matt”

a/n: i cannot end fics for the life of me and im too lazy to proofread this! @luv4kozume respectfully it’s time for you to write❤️

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @lacysturniolo @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss

[paladinscleric]

.

[drpeppertummy]

alphabet-themed stuffing/tummyache/tiny bit of hunger writing/drawing prompts

Air. Your character swallows too much air while eating, chewing, drinking, what have you, and finds themselves uncomfortably bloated. Maybe they refuse to burp out of politeness, their belly grumbling in protest as they swallow down any air that tries to escape.

Bubbles. Your character overdoes it with fizzy drinks. Maybe it's an exceptionally fizzy one, maybe it was just a little too much. Maybe there were Mentos involved. Either way, their stomach is filled to the brim with liquid and gas.

Cookies. It's the holiday season, and your character either bakes or receives more cookies than they know what to do with. Somebody ought to eat them before they get stale.

Determination. Maybe your character is stubborn. Maybe they've taken on a challenge. Maybe they've got some sort of goal to reach, or maybe they're trying to take care of some food that won't be good much longer. Whatever the reason, your character is hell-bent on finishing their food, even if their tummy is begging them to stop.

Endless. Your character has far too much food on their plate, and no matter how much they eat, it feels like they're not even making a dent. How long can they go on before they have to quit?

Friends. Your character sits down for dinner with some loved ones, but they're worried their pal isn't eating enough and urge them to have more.

Greasy. How much oily fried food can your character's tummy handle before they start feeling sick? Hopefully they're at least in the comfort of their own home and not out at a fair or something, otherwise they might have a hard time soothing their upset belly.

Help. Somebody needs help cleaning their plate. Maybe your character gives that last bite to somebody else, or maybe they're the one taking it. Maybe, if you're feeling scandalous, somebody helps them finish by feeding them that last bite.

Inches. How far can your character's belly expand? Maybe enough to be visible. Or for their shirt to ride up. Or even to pop a button. What does it take for them to swell up so much?

Juicy. It's easy to overdo it on fruit, especially when it's nice and ripe. It's refreshing, it's fun to eat, and it's gonna go bad soon anyway, right? No problems, at least until your character realizes how full they are.

KFC. Does your character have a favorite fast food place? Maybe they eat too much when they go there because it's just that good. Maybe it's a little ways away and they have to make it worth the drive. Maybe they have a new special your character's been dying to try and it's bigger than expected. How does all that cheap greasy food feel sitting in their stomach?

Liquid. Your character has a beverage that's a little too much. Maybe they're already full from eating, maybe it's just a huge drink, but either way, for one reason or another, they're determined to finish it.

Movies. Your character overestimates how much food they need for a movie snack and winds up with far too much. Maybe they're too focused on the movie to realize how full they're getting, or maybe they just eat it all because they don't want to have to put it away.

Nougat. It's Halloween, and your character is surrounded by candy. Maybe they're giving it out, maybe they've been given some, maybe they just bought a bunch because they could. How much can they eat before it gives them a bellyache?

Overestimate. Maybe your character's eyes are bigger than their stomach and they dish themself out more than they can handle, or maybe somebody else overestimates their capacity and gives them too big a serving of food. Will they try to finish all of it even once they're full?

Pizza. How many slices can your character eat? Can they fit more if it's their favorite topping? Perhaps this is the time to find out.

Quit. Your character has had it. Their belly is far too stuffed, and they can't eat another bite. Hopefully they weren't feeling pressured to clean their plate, because it's just not happening.

Rubs. Maybe your character has a tummyache, maybe they're stuffed silly, or maybe they just want to cuddle, but they're dying for a belly rub. Hopefully they're getting one.

Soup. It's the dead of winter, and your character is cold and shivering. They need a big bowl of hot soup to warm them up from the inside.

Tired. Your character comes home starving and utterly exhausted. Will they have the energy to cook something? Maybe they'll eat a bunch of easy snacks instead of putting together a meal, or maybe they'll go to bed hungry. If they're lucky, maybe somebody will make them something.

Underestimate. Your character leaves the table not nearly full enough, and it's not long before their tummy is growling. Do they ignore it? Feed it? Maybe they're so hungry that they eat too much to compensate.

Valentine. Somebody gives your character lots of sweets for being so sweet. Maybe they have a number of admirers who leave them saddled with more chocolate than they can handle, or maybe it's just one person who thinks they're just that adorable. Either way, they eat too much in one sitting and wind up with a belly full of sugar.

Water. After realizing how dehydrated they are, your character chugs far too much water in one sitting and winds up with an uncomfortably distended, sloshy belly.

eXtra. Your character is enjoying food with friends, and they make or order way too much, just to make sure they have enough for everybody. Maybe the whole group winds up stuffed, or maybe one person is tasked with taking care of the extra food.

Yogurt. For one reason or another, your character is trying to eat healthy. It's okay to stuff yourself silly if it's health food, right? Or maybe they finally snap and break their diet, but go a little overboard in their frenzy to eat something satisfying.

Zoo. Your character has been walking around the zoo all day--or maybe a theme park, or a carnival, or whatever the hell you want--and they're tired and hungry. They'd better stop for an overpriced snack break. Hopefully they don't spend the rest of their outing with a bellyache.

[jbbartram-illu]

I'd love to know more about layering glazes!! I've taken ceramic classes in school and as you can imagine we were limited to single glazes to stop kids from mixing things together with too-early second coats.

Ooohhh get ready for another ramble because I am SO into glaze layering (tho also very early on in the journey...now that I have a kiln, I'll have way more capacity for tossing in some test tiles alongside the proper work, so hopefully I'm only getting nerdier in this aspect of the craft!).

A couple of beasts featuring cool surface effects via layering glazes!

The main thing that got me properly into glaze layering was the fact that both Mayco & Amaco provide online resources for layering their glazes, which provided me with a foundation to start from when deciding what glazes to layer.

Mayco's glaze layering resource

Amaco's Glaze layering resource

With few exceptions, all of my layered glazes have been based on suggestions from those sites. Of course, most look slightly different from the reference photos provided due to firing temp/clay type, but it's amazing to have something to work from!

The other crucial thing that comes along with glaze layering (& just glazing in general!) is keeping a record of your choices. I've got a two-pronged system going now where I write everything down in a notebook while working, then take proper photos when the pieces are done & put it in an app on my phone called ClayLab.

This allows me to more easily organize my glaze results & reference them in a more streamlined way than my initial system of 'read tragically messy notes in notebook while scrolling through my overloaded & disorganized phone photo album'. Sometimes apps DO make things easier!

Here are some photos of my not-at-all-unhinged notebook scrawlings & a screenshot of the ClayLab app:

The app lets you apply all kinds of info to each entry & then filter by all those categories (eg. type of vessel/creature, glaze name, clay type, etc). I really do recommend it if you want a non-stressful way of keeping track of your glazing choices!

So yeah!! I hope this was a little bit helpful? I'll be talking a bit more about my personal favourite glazes/layered glazes in a future ask, which I'll post soon!

[nolita-fairytale]

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

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

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

word count: 4k

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

read: chapter one

March 2020: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He couldn’t agree less. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May 2020: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not going to let this go. 

“I shouldn't've said anything.” 

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

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

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

“Yeah, no me either,” you agree. 

Where was this going?

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he answers. 

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

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

“Cool,” he says, taking a breath. 

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

“Can I walk you home?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

July 2020: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” Nate replies, unconvinced. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you smile with a nod. 

“Mine or yours?” he asks. 

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

“Mine,” you reply. 

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

“Heard.”

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

He likes that you’re looking out for him. 

He smiles, “Heard.”

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Since when had Carmy learned what that look meant. 

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

“What’s up?” he asks, patiently. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you exhale. 

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

Right. 

“Right,” you agree. 

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

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

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

Friends. 

Right. 

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

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

It’s like he’d almost forgotten. 

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

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

Because he likes this too much. 

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

Because you’re all he has. 

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

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

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

“Yeah, no. I-, I agree,” you lie. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s perfect.  

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

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

“No offense taken,” he says. 

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

September 2020: 

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

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

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

“What?” he asks back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure?” you ask him. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

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

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

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

“He seems into you,” Patrick offers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can practically feel Liz and Maya staring at you. 

“Yeah,” you reply to Carmy. 

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

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

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

“Sure,” you nod.

read chapter three

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[rs-hawk]

I really like your monster fucker stories

if you feel like it, I’ve always wanted to see a story of a male reader and a female werehyena meeting lol

Cismale Reader

You always loved meeting new people, so when your best friend invited you to a staff party, you decided to tag along. After all, you hadn’t been back in town for very long, so it wouldn’t hurt to make new friends.

“Y/N, this is Nyi,” your friend said as he introduced you to one of his coworkers. “She’s the big boss lady.”

“That I am,” she smirked as she looked you up and down in an almost predatory way.

Your face flushed as you stammered out how nice it was to meet her. The party went on, and each time you looked around, you saw Nyi eyeing you like you were to be her last meal. Your face stayed heated, and you couldn’t help the hardening of your cock each time you caught her staring at you.

Eventually, the staff party was winding down. “Hey Y/N. Do you wanna get out of here?” your friend asked.

“Actually, I was hoping I could steal him from you for a little while. I wanted to talk to him about a… position we hopefully have opening up soon,” Nyi cut in, grabbing your shoulder and tugging you back slightly.

“Oh yeah?” you asked excitedly, perking up. “It’s fine dude. I’ll catch a Lyft or something.”

After a bit of back and forth, your friend reluctantly agreed to see you in the morning. You could tell he was disappointed you wouldn’t be heading out to a bar with him, but the chance to be alone with Nyi was so exciting your body was basically tingling.

“Why don’t you go wait in my office? I’ll clear the rest out,” she whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You did what she asked. You waited in her office, sitting in a plush covered wooden chair across her desk. It didn’t take long for her to come into the small room, though she did seem displeased with how long it took. Before you could even get a word in, she sat on the edge of her desk, crossing one leg over the other.

“Do you think I’m attractive?” she asked, looking down at you.

“Yes ma’am,” you blurted out, your ears burning. “You’re gorgeous. Stunning.”

She chuckled then smirked, showing off a glint of her canine teeth for a moment. She was still looking at you like prey, which forced you to swallow the lump in your throat. “That’s good,” she almost purred as she tilted her head as if taking more of you in. “Come here.”

You hesitated for a moment, but then did as she asked. You stood from the chair you were sitting in, and closed the distance between the two of you. She took your hand, tugging you closer and wrapping it around her waist before grabbing the collar of your shirt, almost yanking you to her as your lips crashed together. You were basically aching between your legs. She was so gorgeous. The way her lips worked over yours was making your knees feel weak, leading you to brace yourself on her desk with open palms.

You’d been so focused on her lips, her tongue, that you hadn’t even realized she had started shifting until you felt a… furriness to her lips. You cracked your eyes open, freezing when what could only be described as a beast staring at you. You knew it was still Nyi. While Shifters were uncommon, you still knew they existed.

She chuckled again, and the sound reminded you of something in the back of your brain. What was it? She laughed again, and that’s when you remembered. A hyena.

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out now,” she taunted, her ears tilted forward as if waiting for your response.

You shook your head slowly, trying to ignore the huge pseudo penis grinding between your legs. There was another lump in your throat as she smirked at you, her claws easily tearing your clothes to shreds. Before you knew it, you were on your knees, her girlcock stuffed down your throat. It was taking everything in you not to start gagging, even as your eyes were watering. She was panting, her tongue hanging out of her mouth as her eyes fell half-lidded.

Your throat was stretched to capacity as you tried to take as much of her down your throat as possible. She grabbed the back of your head- well, as best as she could with her half paws- and forced your head even more down your throat. Your own cock was aching and throbbing between your legs as you felt her twitching inside of your mouth.

She suddenly yanked out of your mouth, yanking you to your knees and shoving you over the side of her desk. In moments, her huge pseudo cock being crammed into your ass. One of her paws was racking claws down your back, and her other was teasing your cock, slowly sliding up and down it.

“You like being stuffed?” she growled in your ear as she finally bottomed out inside of you, making you groan in response. “What a good little hump toy you are.”

All you could do was press back against her, eager for more of her. She teased your cock until you finally came, then whispered in your ear, praising you for cumming with her cock stuffed inside of you like a good boy. Her sharp teeth broke the skin of your neck ever so slightly, letting the blood bleed there before her hot tongue lapped at it. The fur from her body made you feel hot in every place it touched, making you whimper excitedly.

This went on for hours until you were both spent. Finally she pulled out of you, sinking into the plush chair you’d been sitting in before. You sank to your knees, leaning your head back to rest it in her lap.

“Thank you,” you muttered, looking up at her with sleepy eyes.

She just smiled, racking her slowly turning back to fingers claws through your hair. “You’re welcome Pup.”