#my little anchovy

[jmdbjk]

*BARKS* (oops sorry)

He brought the hammer down.

As Yoongi said once: "Have you forgotten what I do for a living?"

We're sorry, Jimin... so, so sorry... we didn't mean to doubt... we might need to be reminded daily so feel free to whip one of these out more often.

Their friendship though, I love seeing it. I don't know a lot about Taemin but he's very talented. He looks yummy in this vid. I have a weakness for long dark hair (missing Yoongi's long hair, Jungkook's long hair... )

Jimin is coming to claim what is his...

[grub-s]

having access to toum will make this pasta the bane of my coworkers’ days tomorrow

[agrimmbrothersgrimmestgoose]

Just made a big ol step in socializing the wiggly macaroni man,

both of my cats are shy and not really handlable i would say, but Mac is def worse. Now he's DEF become more cuddly and lovey dovey toward me and my roommate but everybody else he RUNS away. And when it comes to vets he's not really cooperative at alll. Like, they did Macaroni's blood tests when they neutered him cause he was about to Fully Fight the vet

So I have started a twice a week random routine of Catch The Mac

Cause like,

1) i dont want him to associate being held with The Carrier or The Vet [btw carriers are out all the time and I irreguarlly feed/hide treats in them]

2) eventually, Id like to be able introduce a signal for "its time to get picked up"

Right now Mac's response to even petting with 2 hands is to jump away so we're working on getting Held to just a neutral/positive thing before any kind of command is in there, but I hold out hope to one day have a cat that I can say "Hold!" And he'll let me pick him up.

Thats at least the goal

Given, this *is* the critter who knows to go where I point and specfically identified only the straw as what he wanted from the trash THEN ATTEMPTED TO THEFT THAT SINGLE STRAW

I believe in Macaroni's abilities

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I worked pizza it was a rough gig. I’ve talked about getting fired but the reality was that it was ridiculously easy to get fired at that place. For that reason it was a bit hard to get attached to new hires. Until they passed the two month mark it wasn’t worth forming emotional attachments.

Enter Daisy. There was nothing wrong with Daisy, really, as a person. She just was a bit ditzy and couldn’t hustle worth a damn. For these sins the veteran staff was almost constantly annoyed at Daisy.

But she was blithely unconcerned or unaware of our frostiness. She greeted us with chirpy friendliness every day that was undeterred by our almost blatant ignoring of her. This was fine with Daisy. She’d fill the silence we left by talking our ears off about her dead beat boyfriend, whatever thought was in her head that moment, and the current drama in her friend circle.

One day we snapped. Daisy clearly needed some hazing because we were going crazy. She made herself a pizza for dinner and passed it off to the guy working the ovens, then went to the bathroom.

I don’t remember this being premeditated but all three of us left in her wake lunged for the anchovies.

See. We had anchovies on hand for the very rare occasions someone asked for them on a pizza. It was terribly uncommon but we had them. It stunk up the entire restaurant every time anchovy went in the oven so we all unilaterally loathed anchovies. We assumed Daisy would loathe them too. We poured the fish juice from the can all over her pizza.

We all then went nonchalantly about our work. Daisy’s pizza came out and I sliced it for her as she strolled over from the bathroom. She smiled and thanked me and sat with her back to us, scrolling her phone.

We waited like horrible little imps of mischief, anticipating her outraged and disgusted cries. She lifted the pizza and we leaned closer, malicious in our delight. She took a bite. She chewed. Swallowed. Took another bite.

Slowly we became transfixed. We left off all our closing clean up tasks to watch Daisy’s back as she ate her pizza with every sign of enjoyment. Our malevolence fizzes out into shock. She didn’t say a peep about the anchovy juice. The oven guy had emptied the can over her food and she was unmoved. We couldn’t look away.

We were silent as she finished and brought her plate over to be bussed. We stared at her.

“What?”

“Did you… like… your pizza?”

“It was fine.”

I broke. I was broken. This girl, this annoying cheerful girl, had broken me. “Daisy,” I said in agony, “We poured anchovy juice all over it. How did you even eat that pizza!?”

“Oh! I thought it was really salty! I don’t actually have a lot of taste buds there’s this weird thing with my nose. I really only get like salty, sweet, bitter. You guys put anchovy juice on it!? That’s so funny!”

Reader, she meant it. She thought it was hilarious that we had spiked her pizza with fish oil. She thought it was even funnier that she’d eaten it all without knowing. We all kept laughing together through closing duties, repeating “I thought it was salty!”

That was it. Daisy was part of the team. She had eaten all the malice we had toward her and come out smiling. She won. The following story took place well over a decade ago. I’m aware it contains shitty behavior. You’re supposed to realize it was shitty that’s why I wrote it.

[thebearer]

love, i found you |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: how anchovy berzatto came into your and carmen's lives. or the story of anchovy berzatto, dumpster kitten turned spoiled cat.

contains: mentions of animal being abandoned/ stray kitten. small, malnourished anchovy but nothing graphic (i won't do that to you i promise). mainly fluff. language. richie being a hater a little lol.

word count: 2.9k+

“Chefs, keep the stations clear-” 

“-Has anyone seen Richie?-” 

“-Jeff, I need more branzino for the seven fishes-” 

“-Heard, Tina. There, uh, I think there’s some-” 

“-Carm, have you seen the books for tonight?-” 

“-Has anyone seen Richie? Richie! Where the fuck is he?” 

A chaotic melody of screams meshed together in some kind of disarray of harmony, one speaking over the other, the sound of pots and pans clashing, hisses of sizzling food in them a backtrack to the madness. 

“I’m right here, Sugar.” Richie scoffed, buttoning the front of his jacket. He patted your shoulder in passing, cheek pressing lightly to yours, muttering, “How’re you, sweetheart? Doin’ good?” In passing. 

He was the first to notice you, even over Carmen. The rest of the staff bustling through the kitchen prep, trying to squeeze everything in before the family meal. Carmen had invited you to family, but you were starting to regret agreeing, feeling useless and in the way in the face of the hectic nature. 

“Where have you been?” Sugar huffed at Richie, heels clacking in a stomp towards the office. “I have a million fucking things- oh, hey.” She paused, eyes lighting in a greeting when they landed on you. 

“I didn’t know you were here. How are you?” Sugar hugged you, a soft side hug in greeting that you returned stiffly. 

“I’m good. How are you?” You muttered, eyes still scanning the kitchen. 

Sugar let out a dry laugh, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Ask me in about an hour.” She shook her head. “I have a million fucking things to do as I was telling Richie.” She turned, eyes narrowing pointedly at the man. “Only two dishwashers showed up tonight.” 

“You’re shitting me.” Richie groaned. “That fuckin’ jagoff- take a chance on me, bullshit.” 

“Yeah, so Neil needs to wash utensils tonight between the floor, ok?” Sugar jabbed a manicured nail into her clipboard. 

“Is there anything I can do?” You squeaked, much smaller than you meant it to. Richie and Sugar turned to you, both blinking, like they’d forgotten you were even there. “Carm invited me to family, but I can help. I can wash dishes if you need me too. I don’t have anything else to do.” 

“That would be-” Sugar nodded in a sigh, a small smile spreading across her face. “Did I ever tell you I love you? Seriously.” She turned to Carm, who was passing behind her. “Carm, don’t ever fuck this up with her, you hear me? I’ll kill you.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Carmen muttered, and you knew by the drone in his voice he wasn’t listening, too consumed with other things, discarding vegetable scraps into the trash. 

“This thing is fuckin’ full. Can they not- Oh, hey.” Carmen’s features softened at the sight of you, spine straightening gently. “When’d you get here?” 

“Just a few minutes ago.” You leaned forward, his lips brushing your cheek softly in greeting. “I didn’t want to disrupt. You seemed… busy.” 

Carmen snorted. “Yeah, uh, that’s a word for it. Busy, out of my fuckin’ mind because this trash is fuckin’ full!” He boomed at no one in particular. 

“Now, I gotta take this out and replace it, and that puts us back, and every second counts, does it not, cousin?” Carmen rambled, glaring at Richie, yanking the sides of the trashcan off the rim. 

“Look, I didn’t know that the two didn’t show-” 

“-No, of course you didn’t. Can’t pay attention to shit-” 

“-Alright, let’s bring it down.” Sugar lifted her hands, eyeing Carmen with a slight nod of her head towards you. 

“Sorry.” Carmen muttered, eyes lifting to you. “Sorry, cousin. I-I’m just, we’re fuckin’ booked, an-and I’m so far behind-” 

“-I’ll take it.” You squeaked, a little too eagerly. Carmen’s brows furrowed, you cut him off before he could finish. “No, seriously, you’re all busy. I’ll go take this out and then I’ll help make sure the utensils are ready.” 

“N-No, I can’t ask you to do that. That would be shitty.” Carmen shook his head, pulling the trash bag out of the can. 

“Good thing you didn’t ask me. I offered.” Your hand wrapped over his, squeezing his closed fist gently with a tiny grin. “Go, I got it.” 

Carmen beamed, cheeks tinging pink. If he wouldn’t have been in the middle of the kitchen prep rush, he would’ve kissed you, pressed you right up against the wall and smooched you sloppy. Instead, he let you take the trash. 

“Gary!” Richie called behind you. “Make sure you let her back in, alright? Just knock and he’ll let you back in. You’re a fucking life saver, y’know that?” Richie beamed, pushing the heavy steel door open so you could duck under his arm. 

It was surprisingly warm- well, warm-ish for Chicago in the winter. No snow, no need for a heavy jacket but brisk enough for a chill. The dumpster lid was already flipped over, and you were thankful for that, slinging the bag over the edge, turning to go back inside. 

You stopped, halting just as you’d turned. The tiniest squeak of a cry, desperate and alert. You turned scanning the alley walls, the corners by the dumpster until you heard it again, that same pitiful whimper echoing off the metal of the dumpster- inside the dumpster. 

You hesitated for a moment. You couldn’t leave it, whatever it was, it sounded pathetic and in pain. Your eyes flickered back to the building, you could see Gary in the small window, head turned towards the others. They were so busy, you couldn’t ask Carmen or even Fak. 

“I’ll be right back.” You cooed towards the dumpster frantically. “Just hold tight for me, ok? I’ll get you out, one sec.” It was silly, but you felt the need to say it, even if just for yourself. 

Sprinting towards the door, you knocked on the glass rapidly. Gary pushed it open. “I need your help.” You stopped him before he could walk away. “J-Just for a second. I promise.” 

Gary’s brows furrowed. “Yeah, are you- you’re ok?” 

“Yeah, I mean,” You turned towards the dumpster. “There’s something in there. I think it’s a cat? I think it’s hurt.” 

“A cat?” Gary’s eyes widened, still, he followed your furious pace towards the dumpster. “Wait, I-I don’t think- Lemme get Carm-” 

“-No, he’s busy.” You shook your head. “It will just take me a second. I just need you to help me get down.” 

Gary paused, watching you in complete awe- maybe horror- push off a discarded crate towards the ledge of the dumpster. “This is- no, this is fuckin’ crazy, I’m sorry. You don’t know what that thing has-” 

Your small gasp cut him off, eyes rounding in awe. There in the piles of trash, a fuzzy blip of orange fur nestled into the black bags- a tiny, scraggly kitten, mewling helplessly. 

“Oh my God,” You muttered. “It’s a baby.” 

“A baby?” Gary gawked. 

“A kitten baby.” You corrected, lip jutting. “I have to get it.” 

“I really don’t think you should be doin’ this.” Gary looked back at the door then to you. “You can’t go in the dumpster, c’mon.” 

“You want to go in instead?” You huffed, eyes rolling at his disgusted snarl. “Just- I’ll do it.” You leaned to the side, taking a deep breath of fresh air, swallowing down a gag at the expected smell. 

Holding your breath, you let yourself fall into the dumpster, the squishy bags of trash uneasy under your feet. The small kitten whined, crying at the shift of your weight. 

“This is fuckin’ insane.” Gary muttered, shaking his head. 

“Aye, Sweeps, what the fuck?” Richie’s voice boomed, the slam of the door making both of you jump. “Take your smoke break later, you jagoff, I need your-” 

“-I’m not-” Gary huffed in annoyance. “She’s in the dumpster.” 

“Who?” Richie asked. 

“Me!” You swallowed a retch, the pungent stench of the trash filling your senses as you crouched closer towards the kitten. At least it wasn’t summer. 

“Why the fuck is Carmen’s girl in the dumpster?” Richie roared. “Carmen! Get out here now, cousin!” 

“Why is she in the dumpster? Why the fuck are you in the dumpster?” Richie’s furious stomps were muted from the outside. You cringed, still trying to hold your breath, coaxing the small kitten into your hold. 

The poor thing, so small- so fucking small. Shaking in your hold, crying and whining, but turned into the warmth of your palm. A cry bubbled from your chest, mixing with a gag at the smell. 

“Cousin, what? What the fuck is-” Carmen bounded outside, stopping when he saw the top of your head pop up, out of the dumpster. “The fuck?” 

“Your girl’s in the garbage.” Richie shook his head. 

“Yeah, why the fuck- Baby, w-why are you- What are you doin’?” Carmen jogged towards you, hoisting himself over the side of the dumpster, arm extended for you. 

“She found a cat.” Gary rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

“A cat?” Richie repeated. 

“A kitten.” You showed Carmen, pulling the small thing from your chest, where you cradled him close to you. 

Carmen blinked at you. “You went in the dumpster f-for a cat? A cat?” He shook his head, confused. “Baby, that thing could have diseases a-and rabies and shit-” 

“-He’s starving.” You countered, lip jutting in a firm pout. Carmen hated the way he could feel himself melting. The determination in your glare, ferocious yet soft. 

“I could hear him crying, a-and I couldn’t leave him.” You shook your head, petting the tiny kitten’s soft fur. 

“So you climbed in the trash?” Richie snarled in disgust. 

“Climbed right in the dumpster.” Gary nodded. 

“Alright.” Carmen looked over his shoulder at them, a pointed glare on his face. “Just- Lemme get you outta there, alright?” 

“Here,” You handed him the small cat, carefully cradling him. Carmen hesitated, a grimace in his scowl. Your eyes narrowed at him, a warning. “Hold him gently.” 

So he did, of course he did, it’s what you wanted. Passing him to Richie with the same snarl of instructions, pulling you out of the dumpster, a firm hold on your waist as you climbed back over. 

Richie was passing you the kitten with a grimace of disgust, dusting his hands off dramatically. “There. There’s your garbage cat that can not come back in the restaurant. Cousin,” He glared at Carmen. “We don’t want another fuckin’ C. Get shut down for havin’ fleas or shit.” 

Carmen glared at him. “No, he’s right.” You nodded. “Can you bring me my purse? I’m going to see if I can get him checked out. I’ll be back.” 

“Let me come with you.” Carmen offered, motioning for Gary to go get your things, untying his blue apron. 

“Carm, no. You’re busy. I can do it.” You shook your head. 

Carmen rolled his eyes. “No, I’m comin’ with you. Last time I let you do somethin’ alone. End up in the fuckin’ garbage.” He snorted playfully. “Besides, I think there’s a place down the street. The vet has been in a few times. I’ll see if I can, y’know, coerce him to squeeze us in.” 

“Coerce?” You lifted your brows playfully, petting the tiny kitten gently, trying to still his quivering. 

“Yeah, coerce.” Carmen rolled his eyes, swapping his apron out for his jacket, handing you yours. “Give ‘im a free dinner or somethin’.” 

“No fuckin’ way, no.” Richie shook his head. “Cousin, you’re already late- Sydney is pissed, and you’re not bringing that fuckin’ flea bag in here.” 

You held the small cat close to your chest, still damp from his bath at the vet. Carmen’s coercing had worked, Dr. Vallenti had took the bribe happily, squeezing you both in for a check up. The tiny kitten, barely two pounds, malnourished and positively pitiful. You didn’t even have to ask, Carmen knew from the way you held him close to your chest, eyes rounding just barely when the vet asked if you’d be keeping him. 

“Of course,” Carmen nodded easily, squeezing your knee gently. “Just give him whatever he needs for right now, and what we need t’get. We’ll get it.” 

“He doesn’t have fleas, Richie.” You sneered, cradling the small cat in your jacket to keep him warm. His shake was down to a soft tremble, not as constant but still there. 

“Yeah fuckin’ right, rabies then-” 

“-Cousin.” Carmen sneered. Richie stopped with a huff, throwing his arms up and muttering something as he stormed away. 

“Here,” Carmen muttered, a hand on the small of your spine, pushing you into his office. “I’ll grab you a bowl and a plate for his food, alright? You just, just stay in here, ok? Richie’s right, he can’t be out.” 

“I’ll keep him in here.” You nodded, sitting in the small chair. “Do you have a towel?” 

“Yeah, I’ll grab that too.” Carmen slung his jacket off, running a hand through his messy curls. “I, uh, I gotta get scrubbed up and put my stuff on, but if you need anything just yell, alright?” He ducked out to the small closet, snatching a towel and two dishes off the drying rack. 

“I’ll be alright.” You hummed, fingertip tracing down the kitten’s tiny head. He purred under your touch, made your chest burst with warmth. 

Carmen’s lips pulled in a smile, putting the dishes on the ground for you, shedding his own shirt. You were entirely enamored with the cat, that was for sure, not even a sideways, ogling glance at Carmen’s shirtless figure. 

“Shit.” Your head snapped up, wide eyed at Carmen. “I forgot the dishes. I-I’m so sorry, I can-” 

“-It’s alright, baby.” Carmen dropped his pants, biting back a smirk at how your eyes did drop this time. “Tina got her son and his friend to come in. We’re good, baby.” 

“Oh.” You nodded, eyes lingering on his boxer clad ass, before back to the kitten. “Good.” 

Carmen shrugged on his chef’s coat, walking over to you. “It’ll be kinda a late night.” His eyes softened in apology. “I’ll have someone run you a plate when we get outta the weeds, alright?” 

“Thank you.” You muttered, head tilting back for a kiss. Carmen obliged, your lips pulling him in for a longer kiss than he expected, sweet- left his body burning with heat. “Thank you.” You repeated, eyes shining sweetly. 

“C’mon.” Carmen whispered gently, shaking his head at you. “You know I would do anythin’.” He pressed a kiss to your head, looking down at the small kitten before he left. 

“I think he likes it?” You whispered, on your stomach next to Carmen. 

It was nearly two in the morning, the two of you just returning back to the brownstone you called home. Lying on the freshly laid tile of the kitchen, you watched the small cat explore the space. 

“Yeah, think he’s gettin’ used to it.” Carmen muttered, shaking the small stick so the feather danced over the kitten, grinning when he’d scrunch and bat at it clumsily. 

You pressed your head into your hand, watching the kitten prowl, ears finally perked up instead of flat back in fear. “We have to name him.” You blinked, looking up at Carmen. 

“Yeah,” Carmen grinned. “Yeah, that-that would be a good idea, right?” He beamed playfully. 

You smiled, gently petting the kitten’s back, smiling at how he arched into your touch. “I think it should be something kinda with the restaurant.” You suggested. “Since that’s where we found him.” 

“Yeah? Like Bear?” Carmen muttered. 

Your nose crinkled gently. “He doesn’t really look like a Bear.” 

“No,” Carmen agreed, shaking his head. “More like a Garfield.” 

You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes. “That’s such a gimme name.” You shook your head. “Maybe not the restaurant, exactly, but… similar?” 

“Yeah? Like Trash Can?” Carmen muttered, lips curling playfully. 

You gasped lightly, smacking his leg playfully. “No.” You huffed. “Something maybe with food?” 

“Carrot?” 

“No.” You pouted lightly, head tilting towards the small cat, occupied with Carmen’s sweatpant strings. “What about, like, Anchovy?” 

“Anchovy?” Carmen snorted in amusement softly. 

“Yeah, like the fish.” You shrugged softly. “And cats eat fish- well, in the cartoons they do, y’know?” 

“Yeah, I know, baby.” Carmen grinned softly down at you. “You think he looks like an Anchovy?” 

The small kitten turned, perking towards Carmen, padding happily over to him. Your face lit, glowing with beaming pride and adoration as Carmen scooped up the small kitten, let him rub his face into his chest sleepily- sweetly. You thought you might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sight. 

“Alright.” Carmen laughed lightly. “Think you’re right. Think he’s an Anchovy.” 

“Anchovy Berzatto.” You hummed, crawling between Carmen’s spread legs, petting the tiny cat. You smiled so brightly at Carmen, his own cheeks burned, flaming under your radiant affection. 

Your lips caught him again, pulling him in for a sweet, longing kiss over the small kitten’s head. Your hands in Carmen’s hair, pulling him closer and closer, kissing him like a lifeline- it made his head swim, chest swell with adoration. 

Anchovy chirped, teetering on a meow and yawn, little paw stretching in Carmen’s hold. Your forehead pressed to Carmen's, you ducked down to coo at the small kitten, moving to sit in between Carmen’s legs, your back to his chest. 

Home with your little family, complete with the little kitten, Anchovy Berzatto.

[david-watts]

there’s a book about a famous restaurant where I live that closed a couple of years back and it has some of the recipes. my god.

[inkedinshadows]

Azriel headcanons

Since I'm working on too many fics and not finishing even one, here's a list of random headcanons I have about our favorite shadowsinger. Seriously, they're very random.

I have so many more, but I didn't want this to be too long lol. Let me know if I should write more of them.

If it weren't for his scars that make it impossible for him (it'd probably be really uncomfortable), Azriel would wear rings. And I mean a lot of them, on both hands. Very slutty of him if you ask me. This is how I imagine it to look like:

And necklaces as well. Like silver little chains and similar.

Azriel is 100% a cat person. I don't think I need to say more, we can all agree on this, right?

The shadowsinger can sing, we all know that. But my current obsession is him playing the piano. He probably learned while healing his hands when he was a child because it helped with coordination. He's really good at it, but he doesn't play in front of people. Only for you. (I wrote a fic about this: Play It For Me)

He has a very neat handwriting. Again, he had to practice a lot after his hands were burned to use them properly again. I picture something like this:

He's the kind of "monster" that eats pizza with a knife and fork instead of just cutting slices and using his hands (I'm Italian, I'm allowed to say this). He would also always stick to the same pizza, never changing the topping too much (relatable). He'd probably keep it simple, with mozzarella, black olives, and maybe anchovies if he feels extra.

Since we're talking food, if you are out on a date or just eating at a restaurant or whatever and you order something you end up not liking, he's swapping your dishes and giving you his. If you do like it but you also like his a lot, then he asks you if you want to share and eat half of each.

He's not a cocktail guy. Here as well, he likes to keep it simple: whiskey, brandy, wine if he's eating, and beer if he's hanging out with Cassian. If he does drink a cocktail, his go-to choices are Black Russian, gin and tonic, Old Fashioned, Manhattan, and Negroni (which might be an Italian cocktail, I'm not sure).

Oh, and he loves coffee. Black, no sugar, no cream. Mostly espresso, but also full mugs of it, especially in the morning.

Azriel loves turtleneck sweaters. Leather jackets are another favorite. When he's out, he mostly wears black or dark jeans, but at home? Sweatpants. Those infamous grey sweatpants we all love. Again, very slutty. He bought them without thinking too much about it, but once he saw your reaction to him wearing them, they became his favorite piece of clothing out of everything he had ever owned.

On the topic of clothing, we know he mostly wears black, but we also know he loves Winter Solstice. He could be easily convinced to wear one of those ugly Christmas sweaters, especially if you bat your eyelashes at him. He can never say no when you give him doe eyes. He'll complain about it, but he secretly loves it, even more so if you're wearing a matching one. The first three are nice and simple and cute, the other two if you want to embarrass him a little (but he still wouldn't say no):

Same goes for Halloween. Couple costumes? He's down. Would he admit he likes it? Probably not. Would he refuse to do it until you're begging him to, just so he can see your cute pout? Absolutely. And of course, he lets you do his make-up.

He smokes. Not much, just 2/3 cigarettes throughout the day, but it can be more if he's stressed or nervous. (Just imagine the hand in the first picture with a cigarette, it's just the perfect position already. I don't smoke and I can't even stand the smell, but I would honestly let Azriel blow the smoke in my face fr)

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @andreperez11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate

[tpwk-formula1]

Lee-Lee’s Pizzeria

It’s time to custom-make your Pizza (fic)!!

Here at Lee-Lee’s Pizzeria, you can order whatever you like with as many toppings as you would enjoy!

----------------------

Lee-Lee’s Pizzeria will be closed from October 1st - October 15th so I can catch up on all of your orders (right around 25+ currently) as well as make sure all of kinktober gets done on time! At 12pm PST I will open requests back up on the 15th.

Server

Pick 1 or more! I do poly fics! (Only written a couple so far so they might be a bit rough to begin)

Lando Norris

Max Verstappen

Charles Leclerc

Oscar Piastri

Carlos Sainz

Lewis Hamilton

George Russell

Fernando Alonso

Alex Albon

Daniel Ricciardo

Pierre Gasly

Ollie Bearman

Franco Colapinto

Logan Sargeant

Jack Doohan

Liam Lawson

Kimi Antonelli

Dino Beganovic

Toto Wolff

Seb Vettel

Pizza Crust

At Lee-Lee's we understand that all great pizzas start with a great crust just like how fics start with a great trope! Pick 1

Thin Crust - Brother's best friend

Thick Crust - Sugar Daddy

Cauliflower Crust - Sunshine x Grumpy

Gluten-Free - Enemies to lovers/ Rivals

Deep Dish - Teammates to lovers

Sicilian Crust - Dating or hooking up

Pizza Sauce

Here at Lee-Lee's our sauce is the overall vibe of the fic! Pick 1

Red Sauce - Rough Sex

Alfredo Sauce - Sweet Sex

Pizza Toppings

Pick 1 or more

Pepperoni - "Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want"

Sausage - "Better not waste a drop"

Olives - "Swallow every last bit. NOW!"

Jalapenos - "Always such a fucking brat"

Onions - "I saw you being a little slut"

Green Peppers - "I'm gonna have that ass glowing red by the time I'm done with you"

Tomatoes - "Do you enjoy pissing me off?"

Mushrooms - "Wrong, wanna try again"

Salami - "Such a little cum slut"

Chicken - "Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?"

Basil - "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy"

Garlic - "I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy with my cum"

Cilantro - "Stop crying and fucking take it"

Roasted Peppers - "Such a good whore"

Artichokes - "Imagine your father saw you now. On your knees like a proper trained slut for me to use"

Bacon - "What would your brother think if he caught us"

Banana Peppers - "Look so pretty riding my cock"

Ham - "You're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly"

Buffalo Chicken - "Such a fucking crybaby, just fucking take it all"

Spinach - "Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock"

Pineapple - "Look so pretty wrapped around my cock"

Arugula - "I love stretching this pussy out"

Broccoli - "Made just for me huh?"

Gorgonzola cheese - "Are you always this fucking loud?"

Parmesan cheese - "Awe... did that hurt? Tuff luck I'm gonna do it again"

Mozzarella- “All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it”

Feta cheese - “God, I love watching your makeup get ruined”

Cheddar cheese - “cumming for me already? Such a meedy slut”

Roasted Mushrooms - “Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy”

Roasted Artichokes - “im gonna put a baby in you”

Gouda cheese - “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl”

Red peppers - “No. Go change”

BBQ Chicken - “Gonna let me cum in you? I know you wanna have my baby”

Canadian bacon - "Do you need an attitude adjustment"

Meatballs - "Why do you always have to complain?"

Chorizo - "Alright, you spent my money. You know what to do now"

Pulled pork - "God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you"

Egg - "My favorite slut"

Prosciutto - "I love making this pretty pussy squirt"

Anchovies - "How are you already drenched"

Sweet Onions - "Are you done complaining?"

Cherry Tomatoes - "I can't wait to watch you swell with my babies"

Sun-dried tomatoes - "Gonna look so pretty pregnant"

Provolone - "Always look best with a face covered in my cum"

Ricotta - "I love your voice but it's always my favorite when you're moaning my name"

Goat cheese - "Look so pretty like this"

Buratta - "How many was that? three... I think you can give me another"

Fontina - "wipe that fucking smirk off your face"

Pepper jack. - "If you wanna be a whore go back to his place then"

Colby Jack - "If you keep running that mouth you're not gonna cum tonight"

Romano - "You're the biggest disappointment me to your family. You're a whore and now you're a fucking liar"

Kielbasa - "A preschooler is better behaved than you are"

Kale - "I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you"

Eggplant - "Are you sure you want me to take it baby?"

Shrimp - "I'll be gentle"

Turkey sausage - "Only the best for my girl"

Pancetta - "Your father always finds a way to piss me off"

Roasted asparagus - "Stop trying to get away. Just be a good girl and take it"

Shallots - "I love marking you up. Let everyone know I own you"

Oregano - "Please, let me cum in you"

-----------------

Drink Time

Every great pizza comes with a drink! Just like every great fic comes with kink/s! Pick 1 or more

Beer - Edging/ orgasm denial

Coke - Spanking

Sprite - Size Kink

Dr Pepper - Dirty Talk

Root beer - Daddy Kink

Sweet tea - Dumbification

Lemonade - Body Worship (Reader giving or receiving)

Pink lemonade - Degrading Kink

Diet Coke - Recording Kink

Pepsi - Oral Kink

Diet Pepsi - Biting

Sparkling Water - Spitting

Red bull - Hickeys

Mt. Dew - Dom/ Sub (Is reader a dom or sub?)

Water - Breeding Kink

Wine - Free Use Kink

Black Tea - Choking

Green Tea - Doggy Position

Boba - Anal

Strawberry Smoothie - Bondage

Apple Juice - Pain Kink

Slushie - Safe word used

Sun Tea - Sir kink

White Claw - Crying

Truly - Belly Bulge

Mango Smoothie - Baby trapping

Orange juice - morning sex

Vodka soda - Somnophilia/ sleepy sex

Tequila sunrise - Wax Play

Vodka redbull - Squirting

Coke Zero - High sex

Cranberry juice - Caught in the act

Mojito - Loss of virginity

Old Fashion - Drunk sex

--------------------

Dessert Time!

Do you want dessert with your pizza? Dessert will represent if you would like to see aftercare at the end or not.

Yes - Aftercare

No - No Aftercare

Our menu is ever-changing which means new options will be added when new ideas come!

[hayleythesugarbowl]

could I request an Ian hecox x reader where it’s an established relationship and reader also works at smosh!? Ty + I love your writing so much!!! Please take care and take your time :)

Fishy || Ian Hecox x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: you and ian have been dating for some time now, sneaking around so no one in the office knows you’re seeing each other. but when you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation, you’re forced to reveal your relationship to your coworkers

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

a/n: hello love!! i hope you enjoy this + the way i went with it. it’s a little short but it gets the job done i think. i love ian sm 🤭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Hey you.”

     You spun around to find Ian, your boyfriend, standing behind you.

      He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for a kiss.

     “Ian,” you whispered. “Not here.”

     You were in the middle of the Smosh studio. Well, not exactly in the middle. More like a secluded corner. But still, anyone could walk in.

      “Man, you eat a few garlic fries and suddenly it’s—”

     You laughed, interrupting him. “You know it’s not that.”

     It wasn’t that you didn’t want anyone to know that you were dating Ian. In fact, if any of your coworkers were perceptive at all they would’ve noticed by now. You’d come to work wearing something of Ian’s too many times to count.

     But nobody had noticed yet and you just weren’t exactly eager to tell them. That way you were spared all the dating your boss jokes. 

     “I could send everyone home,” Ian shrugged. 

     “You’re impossible,” you smiled, rolling your eyes at him. 

     “Or a genius,” he countered, tucking your hair behind your ear.

     You leaned into his touch, wishing this could last forever.

     Suddenly, you heard the sounds of voices coming towards you. Your friends must have just gotten done with a shoot.

     You quickly stepped away from Ian, leaving a safe distance between you. 

     You felt Ian flinch. You hated it too, but it was better this way. Or, that’s what you told yourself.

     Courtney was the first one to round the corner, smiling when she saw the two of you. “Hey, my guys! You ready?”

     You’d almost forgotten. Some of you had planned on going to lunch after filming was over that day. You couldn’t believe it was already that time—the day had flown by.

     “Definitely,” you shot Courtney a thumbs up. 

     “I’m starving,” Shayne came up behind his wife, throwing his arm around her shoulder. “All I’ve eaten today is Garret’s weird peanut butter pasta.”

     “I didn’t think it was that bad,” Anthony admitted, standing beside them. “It was flavorful, at least.”

     “And oddly fishy,” Angela added, making a face as she followed.

     “Oh that was the Anchovy paste,” Chanse said. “And I liked it, Garret let me keep the jar.”

     “This coming from Mr. Lube,” Ian mock- whispered and everybody laughed.

     “Laugh all you want, but it came in handy last weekend,” Chanse crossed his arms.

     “Which reminds me,” Courtney turned to you, “Jonah’s coming with us to lunch with us!”

     You felt your face pale. “What?”

     “What does that have to do with lube?” You heard Angela mutter to Chanse.

     “You remember, the guy I was talking about that would be perfect for you? I invited him so you two can officially meet,” she beamed.

     You saw a muscle in Ian’s jaw tick as you tried to fake a smile. 

     You had forgotten about that too. A couple weeks ago, Courtney had mentioned one of her friends who had just moved to the area. She kept going on about how he was kind and funny and something about your signs being compatible. 

     You knew Courtney had no idea that you and Ian were in relationship, otherwise she definitely wouldn’t be trying to set you up with another guy.

     You had panicked in trying to cover up your’s and Ian’s relationship and told her that you’d love to go out with him sometime.   You kinda hadn’t thought anything would actually come of it. 

    “Court, I don’t know,” You started. “Maybe some other time or—”

     “It’s already done,” she said, “Trust me, I wouldn’t set you up with anyone I didn’t think you would hit it off with immediately.”

     There was nothing you could do but smile and say, “Alright.”

     You couldn’t tell her why you suddenly had changed your mind about wanting to go out with her friend. Not without revealing your secret relationship. And you couldn’t not go to the lunch, not without raising everyone’s suspicions. 

     You looked at Ian and he shrugged. Anthony caught your eye and he gave you a reassuring smile.

     He was the only one at Smosh that knew about you and Ian. Being Ian’s best friend he said he just knew these things.

     That, and he’d caught you one time in the break room. 

     “Well, yay!” Courtney exclaimed. “Let’s go then.”

     All of you began walking towards the door. You hung back so you could talk to Ian without anyone hearing your conversation. 

     “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

     “Hey, it’s not your fault,” he said, letting his fingers brush yours as you walked. “Just, you know, be really repulsive so he doesn’t want to go out with you.”

     You chuckled, “I’ll try my best. Where are some of those garlic fries when you need them?”

     You grabbed Ian’s hand, linking your fingers together, safe behind everyone else.    

     Anthony turned around, smiling at the two of you. 

     You took a deep breath, looking at Ian, and praying you could get through this lunch unscathed. 

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

      “Ok, is it just me, or does everything taste like fish?” Angela asked, dipping a fry in ketchup and holding it out in front of her.

     “It’s just you,” You took the fry out of her hand, popping it into your mouth.

      You sat at a table, an array of food and drinks atop it, Ian on one side of you and Jonah on the other.

      Of course it had worked out that way. 

      Jonah had tried to talk to you throughout the whole lunch—why wouldn’t he? as far as he knew this was supposed to be a date?—and you had tried to act as politely disinterested as possible.

     Now, he turned to you, asking, “So, are you more of a ketchup or a mustard  person?”

     “Um, I like both,” you answered. “Depends on what I’m eating.”

     “Me, I can’t stand mustard,” the man said, “Not since the shark incident of 4th grade.”

     He began telling you the story and you promptly spaced out. You looked across the table. Shayne and Courtney were deep in a conversation and Angela was putting fries in her mouth and imitating a walrus to an annoyed Chanse. 

     Next to you, Ian was talking to Anthony in a low voice. 

     “And so anyways, needless to say I don’t where orange pants on Tuesday’s anymore,” Jonah was saying. 

     You nodded, realizing you’d missed most of whatever he was saying. 

     You turned to Ian. He smiled at you and grabbed your hand under the table. You looked round to make sure no one had seen the exchange.

     But everyone was fully engrossed in their conversations. Except for the man next to you.

     “So,” he started, and you gave him credit for trying to make conversation, even as you were practically ignoring him, so as not to give him the wrong idea. “Do you come to this place often?”

     “First time I’ve been,” you said. “But the fries are killer, I may have to come back.”

     “Maybe we could come back together,” he answered. 

     You felt Ian grip your hand tighter under the table.

     “Oh,” you fumbled for words. “Maybe. But I’m going to be pretty busy with work for a while. You might want to go with someone else, no use waiting on me.”

     “And if I want to wait on you?” He almost whispered. 

     “I’m flattered,” you managed. “But I’m just not really looking to date right—”

     “Courtney told me you were looking for a serious relationship,” Jonah accused.

     Of course she had. You had basically told her as much.

     “Courtney may have gotten the wrong idea,” you said, “I’m not really interested in a relationship, of any kind, at the moment.”

     “What?” Courtney asked. She must have heard her name and now was waiting for a response. The whole table was, it looked like.

     “I lied,” you said. “I’m not looking to date—I can’t date.”

     “Why not?” 

     You took a deep breath. “Jonah, you seem like a great—”

     If not a little pushy

     “—person, but I can’t go out with you. With anyone. Because…”

     You looked to Ian for help, nodding ever- so-slightly. He smiled back at you, as if to say go for it. You watched as everyone’s eyes were on you. Now was a good a time as any.

     “Because I’m already seeing someone,”you blurted out.

     “Oh!” Courtney exclaimed. “Well, that’s great! Can I ask who?”

     “He lives kinda far away,” Anthony interrupted quickly, looking at you. “Right, (Y/n)? You probably wouldn’t—”

     You shook your head, silently thanking him for being willing to help, but knowing you might as well spill the beans now.

     “I’m—” You stared, but Ian beat you to it.

     “It’s me,” Ian said. “(Y/n) is dating me.”

     Everyone’s shocked expressions moved back and forth between you and Ian.

     He lifted your linked hands from under the table, as if it was some kind of proof. You supposed it was.

     “That’s right,” Ian said, pointing at you and looking around at all of your friends. “I’m the lucky guy who gets to get with this.”

     “We were waiting for a good time to tell you guys,” you said, rolling your eyes at Ian. “And, surprise!”

     “You’re dating?” Anthony over-dramatized. “This is news to me!”

     “Anthony, shut up, you knew the whole time,” Ian waved him off.

     “Wow,” Shayne ran a hand through his hair. “Congratulations you guys. I have like four—no, five!—jokes I could—”

     You raised an eyebrow at him.

     “Later,” he corrected, leaning back in his chair as Courtney patted his arm. “It can wait till later.”

     “I had no idea,” Courtney turned to you. “I totally didn’t mean to encourage you to cheat.”

     “I know,” you assured her.

     “Yeah, well, I’m going to take off,” Jonah said, standing up. “Later Courtney. Nice meeting you (Y/n).”

     “You know, I’m not sure I liked him,” Chanse crossed his arms. 

     He left the table and Courtney leaned in. “You know, the more I think about it, the more I’m starting to feel like you’re not perfect for each other.”

     Your whole table burst into laughter, before quieting down again.

     You turned to face Ian. You felt lighter than you had in a while. As fun as it was sneaking around, it would be a lot more fun not having to hide your relationship from your friends. 

     “So,” you started.

     “So,” Ian agreed.

     “I think there’s only one thing left to do,” you told him. 

     “Eat Jonah’s food?” Ian joked.

     But you just shook your head, leaning in and kissing him on the lips.

     Your friends whooped and hollered, enjoying the moment with you. 

     You pulled away from Ian gently, his arm still around your shoulder. 

     You loved Ian so much. 

     And you thought your coworkers reaction was something? Wait until the fans found out. 

     Because you would tell them—in due time. In fact, you had all the time in the world. Right now, you just let yourself enjoy this moment, surrounded by people you love.

     “Okay, taste this celery,” Angela said, as she held out the stalk. You’d almost forgotten she was there—she had been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time.

     “You can’t tell me it doesn’t taste fishy!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ ahh hope you enjoyed my babes 💋 stay tuned for another ian fic coming soon!!

[irndad]

* Dandelion - finally hearing the other person laugh after a period of hardship

Why am I always in the mood for hurt/comfort??? Does this say something about me??

hello my sweet apple pie !!!! this is far more comfort than hurt and i hope that's okay :))))))) it's all fluff LOL flower prompts

“You look nice,” he hears himself say. She does. Very nice, in fact. The sight of her is very tempting, actually, the polyester purple blanket that he’d had since college draped over her lap. She smiles at him lazily, eyes all warm and fond and there’s something just so sweet about it. 

Strictly, Carmen does not have to work tonight. 

He knows this. When he’d met her, Carmen knew that he wouldn’t really be able to resist the siren song of her company for very long. He can still remember the moment they met, dim lighting at house music at a friend’s party. How odd is it, that he even ended up at something like that? She was all warm disposition and lovely eyes, joy written all over her like she couldn’t be bothered to hide it. He doesn’t even remember what he said that was funny, but he does remember how she tipped her head back, joy overflowing till she couldn’t hold it back, and he saw her lovely neck. The pride of making her laugh like that. He wants to feel that way all the time. 

So, yeah. He couldn’t really avoid seeing her. 

He has a headache. He knows he’s not good company. Somehow, she’s not the kind of thing he can deny himself even when faced with how much he does not deserve it. 

He tries to makeup for being in a relationship while doing this restaurant thing, tries not to repeat past mistakes. He tries to be up earlier, do his prep work on time, tries not to get behind. He’s actually pretty good at it, and somehow- it’s a Saturday night, and he’s ahead of schedule. He could theoretically stay in with his girl tonight. 

His girl. He’s not sure he’s allowed yet, still tentative about scaring her away. 

Her makeup is a bit faded and her hair is in a clip. He tries not to think of the image of her rummaging around his drawers, nimble fingers quick and lovely, finding the clip he kept just for her in his bedside drawer, along with a few other things she might need. 

“Thank you,” she replies, looking up at him with the sweetest smile he thinks he’s ever seen, “You look nice too.” She outstretches her arms, hoping for an embrace and- fuck it. 

It’s a little awkward, the positioning but god, she smells like the lavender perfume he and Sugar picked out for her, and he can’t stop thinking about it. You like nice too, she had said. A little ridiculous. He’s pretty sure he’s got anchovy juice on his shirt and smells like literal ass and he hadn’t had time to change before he got home, so really, he’s quite sure he’s not the most pleasant sensory experience. 

And yet, she rakes her hands through his unkempt hair, graces him with a lazy, pleasant smile. 

“How are you doing, Carmy?”

Her tone is warm, like milk and honey. He could drown in it, he thinks, spend years trying to pin down all of the melodic qualities of the ways she chooses to keep him company.

He ponders the question. 

She looks so stunning, warm and pliant in his arms and god, it loosens the knot in his chest a little. This week has been fucking awful, none of his recipes tasting in the real world how he pictures in his mind, nightmares ever-present in his sleep, only eased by the mornings where he wakes with her pressed against his chest. He’s so grateful for the sight her, drinking her in like a man starved. 

He takes her hand, gazing at it with reverence before pressing his chapped lips onto her delicate fingers. 

“I’m better,” he manages to rasp out, blue eyes trained on her lovely face, “I think I’m doing much better.” 

[natsgrave]

TOLERATE IT | elizabeth olsen

while you were out building other worlds, where was i? you assume i'm fine, but what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins? ( story inspired by @taylorswift song bcs i love her sm ) i'm not sure if someone else already wrote something like this or what, but if you see a story quite similar to this, let me know so i could give them a proper credit. thankyou!! ( colored wording would be the lyrics ) i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist

Y/N'S POV Lizzie and I had been together for five years. We met in college, fell deeply in love, and spent countless nights talking about our dreams and aspirations. We were each other's rock, supporting each other through thick and thin.

But how can a perfect relationship turn into a toxic one where we barely talk anymore?

I sit and watch you reading with your head low

I don't know what happened. I don't know how to fix it, it that I didn't even know exist. One second we were fine then the next, we're like strangers.

All I could do is sit here and watch her read the script for her new movie. Reading with her head low and sitting far away from me, almost as if I have a disease. As if there's an invisible wall between us.

We would always sit in silence, her pretending to watch TV or read books, but the tension between us was palpable. I know she could feel my eyes on her, but she never spared me a glance. It was as if she was avoiding me intentionally.

Minutes ticked by, and I decided to make her food. After making anchovy, I gently touch her on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, and looked up to find me standing next to her, holding out a plate.

"I made you your favorite," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Anchovy toast."

Lizzie took the plate from my hand, "Thank you." she replied before looking back at the script once again.

I simply nodded and sat down where I originally sitting, and focused on my own hands folded in my lap with a sigh.

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes close. I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do, you're so much older and wiser

I woke up around five in the morning, the sun hadn't completely risen yet, but the little lighting shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. My gaze fell upon my girlfriend, who lay beside me sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring me comfort.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but watch my partner, Lizzie, sleeping peacefully beside me. I stayed there, watching her for a moment and appreciate the sight before me. But despite the serenity of the scene, I still felt a pang of sadness in my heart.

Lizzie had always been a restless sleeper, constantly shifting positions throughout the night and sometimes even talking in her sleep. But tonight, she was lying completely still, her face calm and relaxed. If someone saw it, they would instantly let it go and think that she's in a deep slumber but I'm not just someone.

I know the truth.

She was pretending to be asleep and it felt like she didn't want to wake up beside me, like she is simply tolerating my presence.

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid, use my best colors for your portrait

They were small things I did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. Always wait by the door every day to greet her, to offer and show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work. I would always stand there, gazing out into the evening sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of my lover making her way home from work. It didn't matter what time it was, or how tired I am after a long day, I always made sure to be there, waiting for Lizzie.

I even took painting classes as it seemed to ease my mind. I poured all of my emotions into my painting, using every color in the palette to capture the beauty of Lizzie's face. I spent hours each day working on the portrait, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for her and I'd use my best colors for her portraits.

Lay the table with the fancy shit, and watch you tolerate it

I had always been a perfectionist when it comes to cooking and entertaining. I would always spent hours in the kitchen, preparing elaborate meals and setting beautiful tables for my lover. I would carefully select the finest ingredients, meticulously prepare each dish, and arrange the table with exquisite linens, flowers, and candles.

I'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with best cutlery and yet again, no matter how hard I tried, she never seemed to appreciate my efforts. All Lizzie gave back were strained smiles, small and almost whispered hums, and nods in acknowledgment of my attempts, and a whisper of "thanks," as she shoveled the food into her mouth, barely taking the time to taste or savor any of it.

she seemed to simply… tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow

Despite my best efforts to communicate openly and honestly with Lizzie, I felt like she wasn't really listening to me, and it made me feel invisible. I began to wonder if I was overthinking everything, if maybe I was the one who was misinterpreting our interactions. Maybe I was being too sensitive, too needy.

Maybe I was the one who was crazy, paranoid.

I felt so alone, so lost, and so unsure of what to do.

I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it

I began to feel like I was living in a dream world where everything I created was invisible to everyone else. It was as if I was speaking a language that nobody understood, except for my own echoes in mind.

"Liz," I said with a trembling voice, "I've been giving everything I have to make you happy, but it feels like you don't see or appreciate it anymore. I feel taken for granted."

My choice of words caught her off guard, she paused for a moment before responding. "Y/N, I never asked you to do all these things for me. I don't need grand gestures to feel loved, I thought you knew that."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this really what our relationship had become? A constant stream of argument and neglect?

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the disconnect between our expectations. I had been trying so hard to show her love in a way that I thought she would appreciate, but it had only pushed us further apart.

And it happen, I finally snapped.

I felt a surge of anger and frustration well up inside of me.

Why was I putting so much effort into something that seemed to bring her no joy? Why did I care so deeply about pleasing someone who didn't seem to care about me at all?

I knew, I couldn't keep living this way, constantly pouring my heart and soul into something that brought me nothing but pain and disappointment. I realized that no matter how much I gave, Lizzie would never truly reciprocate and still, I constantly yearn for someone who clearly did not want me.

With a heavy heart, I packed my bags. Our relationship had become toxic, with me constantly sacrificing myself for someone who didn't appreciate me. I knew it was time to leave, before I lost any more pieces of myself.

Before leaving, I took a one last look, the last thing I want to remember was the way Elizabeth used to laugh at my jokes, enjoy our food, take me out on dates. The last thing I want to remember was how she used to love my presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

[jmdbjk]

WTF is his problem?

When I say I just fell down laughing because this. is. absurd.

And then I ...

He posted that on Weverse. He's trying to make sure the treats are distributed evenly across all soc med platforms. I love that about him.

I don't know what Tae was thinking when he said Chapter 2 is not about them taking off their shirts.

YES THE FUCK IT IS, TAE.

[nolita-fairytale]

Christmas w Carmy moodboard

my post-christmas christmas moodboard with carmy, inspired by @thebearer's christmas w/ carmy feat. anchovy moodboard.

i also wrote a little blurb underneath the cut to accompany it, but no need to read! in my head, it lives in the make my heart surrender universe (shocking, i know) but you can absolutely read it as separate.

carmy masterlist

you're curled up with carmy on christmas eve, your head tucked so neatly underneath his chin. with your back to his chest, his arms wrapped around you, holding you snuggly against his body, you murmur his name to get his attention.

"watcha thinkin' about, sweet girl?" carmy asks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, the weight of your wedding ring in addition to your engagement ring is still a new feeling.

"i think... i'm ready," you drag out sleepily.

it's been on your mind for weeks, really -- ever since the new addition to the berzatto clan, baby michael, had entered this world. it wasn't until your last period that you really started to think about it, your mind full of fantasies: fantasies of a rounded belly, of little fingers wrapped around one of your own, clutching you closer for warmth, of twin pairs of blue eyes staring back at you as you look from your husband to your child.

"for what?"

"i...." you trail off, turning your head just enough to look back at carmy. "i think i'm maybe ready to start trying. you know. for... a baby."

he's quiet for a minute, a world of possibility swimming behind his eyes.

"really?" is all he asks when he finally speaks again.

you nod, "yeah, really."

the corners of his lips begin to turn up into a smile as carmy leans in, his lips now dangerously close to yours.

"like right now?"

of course he's thinking about getting laid right now.

you giggle.

"i mean, i'm not ovulating right now but... we could certainly practice."

he hums happily in response, before pressing his lips against yours:

"okay, baby. i'm in, if you're in. let's start trying for a baby."

[thebearer]

carmen walking in on you working on your laptop while amchovys watching old garfield on the large ass tv 😭

this is just too cute! i had to make it a little blurb <3

"Baby," Carmen called, pulling his keys from the door with a hard yank. He was counting down the days until you two moved out and into your new home, away from this apartment and all it's questionable fixtures.

Carmen could hear you before he could see you, piles of boxes filled with your belongings blocked his vision. Maneuvering carefully through the cardboard boxes, moving into the living room.

"Hey, baby," Carmen hummed, tossing his backpack onto the small table, the only space voice of boxes.

"Hey, Bear," You cooed back, voice still a little distracted. He knew he'd find you, hunched over your laptop, clicking and clacking away on your laptop.

His chest warmed at the nickname, a tiny flush in his cheeks. "Still workin'?"

"Just finishing up." You turned when he came into view, smiling at his post work state- curls wild from a day in the kitchen, matted from the ball cap he'd tucked them under. "How was your day?"

Carmen leaned down, lips catching yours in a soft kiss. "Long," Carmen sighed. He could've melted into you at that moment, exhausted from the day, and your lips just felt so good. Instead, he stood, running a hand over your shoulder sweetly.

"'M sorry." You gave him a soft pout. "Is it the new hires? The critics?"

"Yeah, I mean, some of it- yeah. Sugar's pissin' me off too. Keeps bitchin' at me to- Is that," Carmen did a double take, blinking over at the TV screen, then back at Anchovy, lounging in his scratch tower watching the screen.

"What?"

Carmen grinned. "Is that Garfield?" He snorted lightly. "Fuckin' Garfield?"

"Yeah," You frowned at him playfully. "That a problem?"

"Seems a little obvious, babe." Carmen looked over at Anchovy, laughing at the little cat who had yet to stop watching the cartoon.

"He likes it." You grinned smugly. "He loves Garfield. I always put it on for him, so I can work without him trying to jump on my head or lay across my laptop every five seconds."

"Y-You do this a lot?" Carmen snickered. "This a daily thing?"

"Yeah," You grinned, moving your laptop to the side, sinking your knees into the couch, raising to meet Carmen. "We do a lot of things while you're at work, Daddy." Your eyes narrowed with mischief that had Carmen flushing.

"Stop that." Carmen muttered, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat when your nails raked over his chest. "I-I'm gonna take a shower. Then I'll make some dinner, alright?"

You hummed, fingers trailing up towards the neckline of his shirt. You could feel the heat of his blush burning through the cotton. "Mm, I think I'll join you." You purred lightly.

"Yeah?" Carmen leaned into your touch, hands grabbing at your arms. "What're you gonna do with Chovy?" He nodded towards the small cat, who was going through a painfully irritating clingy stage with you. Every time you and Carmen tried to be alone, just the two of you, Anchovy was chirping, yowling, crying until you relented and let him in.

"He's good." You looked over your shoulder at Anchovy. "He's watching Garfield. He's locked in. He won't even realize we're gone."

[werecreature-addicted]

pro tip: shove a sugar cube in the cooter to flavor yourself for your s/o. even do it with other candies. change it up a little for the season! easter? cadbury egg. 4th of july? watermelon jolly rancher. halloween? pumpkin spice. christmas? shove a whole candycane up there. werewolf? bullion cube. plant monster? get some nitrogen fertilizer so he can fertilize you, baby. tentacles? good thing he likes anchovies... vampire? you got that built in once a month.

Thanks so much for the helpful tips! in my experience barbeque sauce also works pretty well if you don't have bullion cubes as far as werewolves go, I'll have to give these other ones a try!

[shapelytimber]

It's *definitely* not a date

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I love these two glhohkgkgjgk the silly 60s spies are cute ok ;; (and there is something about an american man and a russian man romancing each other during the cold war-)

Process (+ a long ass rant about what they are eating (with pics)) below vvv

For this one I wanted to challenge myself by drawing something that's really challenging for me : food ! It's really hard for me to make it look appetizing- I don't really like eating, and I don't usually bother to cook (why cook when I could just grab a baguette, a piece of cheese that could kill an american on sight, and combine the two to create easely one of the top 5 dish france has to offer ?), so I really struggle with making it look good lgkglflfofi but I'm very happy with how it turned out !!!

Welcome to my long ass rent on a very specific type of french food :

So the plan for this was always to have them eat at a french restaurant, but I could not resist doing something really personal and extremely specific to my hometown- so they are eating in Nice ! And Nissart cuisine is very different from the rest of France. Why ? Quick history (I swear this has something to do with food), Nice was a very late addition to France, only becoming french in 1860, before that point it was part of the kingdom of Sardinia (so not Italian, but pretty close). It mostly translate to it having it's own dead language "Niçois" (a derivation of "Provençal", the old french language of the south), it's own anthem "Nissa la bella" and a very distinct cuisine.

So what are they eating ? First, you'll notice they have a little plate of Pissaladière ! It's flatbread with caramelized onions, anchovy (this is a crucial part of the dish, if you exclude them your just eating onion pie (/neg)), and black olive (btw I checked the english wikipedia page for pissaladière- it's so shit omg nooo)

It's commonly free in restaurants, and served while you wait for your order (not all restaurants do that, but it's always so nice when they do fkfjkf). It's a pain in the ass to make, and all the ones you buy in boulangeries or stores are dogshit-

Ok for the actual dishes (It was hard to find something that would go well with red wine kgkgfjlfk because that means no fish-) ! Napoleon is eating roasted rabbit a la Niçoise ! The rabbit is flavored with olive oil, onions, garlic, lard and white wine (quick note, nearly everything we cook in Nice is in olive oil, not a big fan of butter). It's served with cooked tomatoes, rosemary, potatoes and black olive.

And Illya is eating two distinct things, 1) zucchini flower fritters ('beignets de fleurs de courgette' in french) ! More specifically, the flatter version (it taste more like the flower. The more crispy version tastes more like just oil (in my opinion)).

And 2) stuffed vegetable a la niçoise ('farcis niçois' in french) ! Just empty a tomato/zucchini/eggplant/bell pepper, stuff it with a mixture of meat, garlic, thyme, parsley and parmesan, then put bread crumbs on top.

PS : just wanted to share a quote from my evil advisor (@quijicroix) : "I'm glad the waiter brought their F cups" (this is my best attempt to translate : "damn le serveur de genre indéterminé qui ramene les miches !")