#right down to the sound fx

[dotrousersmatter]

the murdoch effect is a grade 12 theatre film project. i need fifteen more seasons immediately.

[poptartmochi]

agustín tbh

[yellowharrington]

all i really want (is you) -- carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader, the bear fx

word count: 3k

warnings: smut! 18+, minors pls dni. afab!reader with pullable hair, no use of y/n. light daddy kink and dom/sub undertones. spanking, exhibitionism, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected piv + creampie, reader and carmy both drink alcohol. please let me know if i missed anything :)

a/n: this is depraved. thanks @wtfsteveharrington for reigniting my need to write about carmy lmao. title is from "all i really want is you" by the marias. please leave comments or reblogs if you liked it <3

divider by @cafekitsune

summary: carmy secretly books a lake-front hotel room in chicago for your anniversary.

Carmy would be the first to admit he’s not very good at being romantic.

He forgets, lets things slip through the cracks, time and time again. He makes up for it, and you understand of course, but he’s working on it.

When your anniversary is approaching, he knows he has to make a plan. Busy with the restaurant, the menu, the money - all of it was overwhelming, but your not-so-subtle reminder of the date gave him the idea.

“So…” you had joined him in your shared kitchen, hand brushing through his curls as he slaved over a pan sauce he’d been perfecting.

“Yes?” He wasn’t annoyed - never annoyed, by you - but in the thralls of cooking, nonetheless.

“It’s our anniversary next weekend and I was thinking we’d try out that new restaurant you were talking about. You know… the one that’s suuuuuper hard to get a reservation at?” You smiled coyly as he held out the spoon with the hot liquid on it, wordlessly asking you for a taste-test. 

“Sounds good,” he had remarked, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek and returning to the task at hand. “I’ll make a call.”

“Thank you, Carm,” you let your hands roam his clothed back as you feel the sauce between your lips and on your tongue. “That’s delicious.”

He hummed in response, as your hands drifted down to his sides and played at the hem of his t-shirt. “After our anniversary dinner I have a little… present for you.”

Before he could respond, you had slipped away to the bedroom, only flashing him a smirk before closing the door.

The weekend of your anniversary had approached quickly, and Carmy had actually managed to get everything in place. The reservation for dinner was set, his gift burning a hole in his pocket, and thoughts of what your gift to him may entail swirling around in his head. 

You walked out of your shared bedroom, adorning a black dress that hugged your body perfectly. Jewelry to match - done up just right, effortlessly perfect for the occasion. His hand came up to his mouth as he took you in, thanking whatever God above that brought you to him.

“Too much?” You asked, toying with your hair in the mirror and correcting the edge of your lipstick. 

“No,” Carmy answered, coming up behind you in the mirror and admiring your form. “Perfect.”

You felt yourself blush as he took your hand and held it to his lips, kissing your knuckles and pulling you into him. “Ready?” 

~

Dinner came and passed, shared glasses of wine between the two of you as you reminisced about past times together. Carmy had always been shy, but easy to talk to, especially when he had some time to open up. You gave him space to do that - he’d never felt more comfortable with anybody before, somebody he trusted with everything. You listened, told him what he needed to hear when he needed to hear it, and kept him in check all while supporting him from the sidelines and meshing perfectly into his insane life. He was eternally grateful for finding you.

He slides a small box across the table at dinner, and when you open it up, you gasp at what’s inside. A dainty necklace, a glossy “C” hanging on the end of it, where it would sit against your chest. 

You let his deft fingers close the tiny clasp behind your neck, the pendant hanging perfectly, glimmering in the amber candlelight of the restaurant. “You’re gonna make me cry,” you laugh through a watery smile, Carmy’s hand crossing the table to slide into yours. Warm skin against warm skin, you smile at his small display of affection, tilting your glass towards him as he clinked it with yours. 

You notice something might be up when you get back into his car, and he doesn’t take the turn off back to your shared apartment. Instead, he veers off into another lane, holding onto your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze for encouragement. 

You’re down by the water now, making a confused expression at your surroundings. City lights around you, the bustling of other people on dates or nights out, as Carmy pulls into the parking lot of a hotel. 

“What are we doing here?” You look at the people stepping into the hotel lobby, some dressed in clothing that was probably more than your rent. He wordlessly turns off his car and exits through the driver’s side, saying something to the valet before grabbing a bag out of the back seat and rounding back to your side. He opens the door for you and takes your hand, before leading you through the doors and into the grand front lobby.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling above as he took your hand and lead you to the front desk, a confused scowl still across your features. The person at the front desk waved you two over, typing something into the computer. “Good evening. Checking in?”

Carmy nods, handing over his ID and credit card before smiling down at you.

“We’re checking in?”

“Happy Anniversary.”

You have to make sure your mouth isn’t hanging open, as Carmy’s coy smile plays along his lips. 

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” you whisper to him, feeling heat spread across your cheeks as you take in your surroundings. Your hand slips into his as you press your cheek to his jacketed shoulder. “Let me show you to your room.”

An elevator ride to the top floor has you antsy, as the attendant opens the door for you to your room. She reveals a lake-front room, with views of the harbour, twinkling lights in the distance reflecting onto the massive floor-to-ceiling window. “Is it to your liking, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto?”

A blush runs up your cheeks as the insinuation. Carmy didn’t correct her, just slipped her a tip and assured her the room was perfect. The door clicked politely behind you as you stepped into the room and kicked off your shoes. You turned around to meet Carmy’s eyes as his expression softened, your hands coming up to cup his face.

“I can’t believe you did this.” You’re breathless, still taking in this grand gesture he’d somehow planned completely behind your back.

“You deserve it,” he said simply, tongue darting between his lips as a strong hand came to overlap yours. 

~

The sun had gone down now, navy sky further illuminating the lights below. Rain slacked against the window, simultaneously hard and soft, the glow of the bedside lamps casting shadows on the walls as you got yourself settled. Carmy had abandoned his jacket and tie, leaving him in a crisp white button-up shirt and black slacks. He was laid back on the bed, one hand behind his head, taking some time to relax.

You dipped into the bathroom, smoothing out your hair and checking your makeup in the mirror. You undid the back of your dress and let it slip down your body into a pool on the tile, revealing the gift you’d picked out for Carmy. A black lace set - cupping your breasts perfectly. Lace panties to match, connected to stockings that came high up on your thighs. 

You stepped out, stocking-clad feet soft against the carpet. Carmy immediately notices, eyes blown wide as he sits up to take you in. 

“Thought you might want your gift now,” you sauntered towards him and met him at the end of the bed, his thighs spread for you to fit between them. His hands immediately came up to touch - to confirm you were real, mostly - because his brain was telling him you weren’t.

You looked down at him, cupping his chin with your hand and the other coming down to his shoulder. Pushing down on him gently, his back hit the mattress, wild eyes not moving off of you for even a second. 

You move to straddle his lap, fingers coming down to start unfurling the buttons on his shirt, revealing the soft skin of his chest. Carmy’s rough, calloused fingertips pressed into the plush skin of your hips, eyes wanting to flutter closed but being too entranced by the sight before him to look away. 

His fiery eyes fell to the swell of your breasts, hands coming up to press and squeeze at the skin there, thumbs ghosting over your hard nipples. You felt your back arch, pressing against his palms, wanting more, as much of him as you could get. 

Carmy’s hands slid down your body to find your clothed core, eliciting a small moan from your lips. You rutted into his hand slightly, feeling his skilful fingers start to work at you over the lace.

You weren’t expecting to give him the upper hand, but it was hard not to submit to his touch - wholly his, looking down at him but still feeling as though he had all the power.

He was sitting up now, pushing your panties to the side and feeling the slick between your folds, maintaining eye contact with you through it all. “Carm,” you panted, strained, embarrassed to be coming apart for him already.

As if he knew, he pulled away, wordlessly bringing his fingers up to your lips. You wrapped your mouth around them, letting your tongue dart between the digits as he wet them with your spit.

“Pretty girl,” he muttered, only loud enough for you to hear, earnest eyes looking up at you, fuzzy around the edges with lust. “My pretty slut, aren’t you?”

“Just for you,” you replied, a smirk on the corner of your lip as he swiftly grabbed your hips and flipped you to have your back on the soft hotel comforter.

He stood before you, giving you a chance to unbutton the rest of his shirt and undo his dress pants, his hand now cradling your chin. You pushed his slacks to the floor, rubbing his thick cock over the fabric of his black boxers. His hand came down to pet your hair, taking a fistful of it at the nape and pulling it back to reveal your shiny lips and eager eyes to him. The pendant he purchased for you glinted in the light.

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

His firm hand on the back of your neck was enough to make your cunt weep, even without his touch. “Please, I need your cock. Please.”

“Good girl. Sit up, all fours.”

You quickly found yourself on your knees on the soft bed, as he let his cock free. He pumped it a few times, angling your mouth with his grip to allow it to drop open. He pressed forward, slipping in between your wet lips and eliciting a carnal groan from his throat. You let yourself submit to his face-fucking, using your mouth to get himself off, leaking tip pressing against the back of your throat. You gagged around him, throat constricting, which only emboldened him to continue. Spit escaped the corners of your lips as you took him in, swallowing him down, all while looking up and batting your long lashes at him. 

“Taking it so good,” he remarked, with a particularly long thrust into your throat. Leaning forward, his broad hand found a fistful of your ass, squeezing it before planting a firm spank. A yelp escaped your lips, as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the force of him in your throat.  

He pulled you off, cock bobbing between his legs before he smeared the spit that had collected all over your plush lips. “So fucking good for me, baby.”

You smiled triumphantly as he leaned down to kiss you sloppily, mixing your spit with his and taking the time to undo your bra and throw it to the ground. 

You didn’t even mind when he pushed you back onto the bed, pulling the stockings and panties off to meet your bra on the floor, surely ripping them. His hands pushed your thighs apart, wet pussy on full display as he dove right in, not giving you even a second to catch your breath.

“Fu-uck,” your voice was hoarse and jagged, his warm tongue feeling like it was everywhere. You squirmed beneath his strong squeeze, forcing your back off the mattress as he licked a broad stripe up your centre and flashed his eyes up at you.

Your eyes were trained on his movements, knowing better than to close them. Your hand came down to his sandy curls, feeling your breath quicken as he suckled on your clit, moving his jaw in such a way that was sending an electrifying pulse up your spine.

He moved one hand from your thigh to circle your entrance with his middle finger, enjoying the way you shuddered at the feeling. “Please,” you begged, watching as he detached his tongue from your clit to simply play with your hole. “Please, I need you inside of me.”

His lips pursed as he waited for you to understand why he wasn’t proceeding. A knowing glance, a sob from you as he teased you. “Are you talking to me? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“Please, daddy. Please fuck me with your fingers.”

“That’s better.” He plunged into you, thick finger curling inside as you let out a choked sob, your cunt pulsing around him as he moved in and out. His lips attached to your clit once again, sucking and grinding his tongue into you, other hand coming up along your stomach to grab your tit and pinch your nipple.

You rasped his name, throat raw from his previous fucking, letting it pour out of your lips over and over. He lapped at you - feeling every quiver from your pussy and shake of your legs as he continued at a bruising pace, not letting up no matter how much you squirmed beneath him. Still pushing you into the mattress, his own cock rutting against the sheets and growing harder every second that his mouth is on you.

A white-hot feeling spread across the back of your thighs, back arched as you tugged on his hair and met his gaze. He rode out your high with you, letting you gush around his fingers and feeling waves of pleasure rise and fall as your breath steadied. Your chest heaving, sticky with sweat, mascara smeared at the edges as you laid back, feeling Carmy’s fingers pull out and his mouth detach from you.

He found himself between your thighs once more, rock-hard cock sliding between your slick folds to tease your overly sensitive clit. He kissed you, a hunger within him, arms coming up under you to hold you as close as possible. Bare skin against bare skin, his mouth sucking in your bottom lip and biting down slightly, eliciting a smile from you and a depraved moan from your lips.

You reached down between your two bodies and slipped his cock into your ready pussy, swallowing him inside of you and hearing his gasp against your lips at the friction. A shameless grunt as his hips drove into you relentlessly, his curls falling into your face as your head tipped back, letting his mouth attach to the side of your throat and suck a bruise into the soft skin beneath your ear. Your hands found the strong muscles of his back, digging them into his skin and finding your legs wrapping around his middle.

An assaulting pace, languidly in and out of you as you met his eyes, pure lust and fire behind them. You could see the idea flash across his eyes.

He pulled out of you gingerly, as you winced at the loss of contact. He pulled you up with him, towards the windows of the hotel room.

He lightly pushed you against the cold glass, earning a sinful moan from your lips as he took your hands hostage behind your back. The rain still pelted down outside, a symphony against your hard and fast breath.

“Why don’t you show all those people how you like to get fucked, huh? Show them what a slut you are?”

A devilish smile on your lips was met with your cheek against the glass, a broad palm on the opposite side of your face, as his cock slid back into your pussy with ease. Your ass was pushed out for him to land a firm slap on it once again, picking up his pace. His hand came around to push your legs apart, playing with your clit and drawing you close once again, as he released your hands to leave prints on the glass.

“Fill me up, please daddy,” you moaned, letting your head fall slack. “I want you to cum so fucking deep inside of me, fuck,” — another spank, paired with jagged thrusts as Carmy got closer to finishing — “fuck me like you own me, baby.”

“I do own you,” he growled, forehead pressed against your shoulder blades as he felt your pussy clench around him. “Cum baby, cum with all those people fucking watching you.” 

“You own me Carmen, I’m yours.” you chanted, turning around to meet his eyes. You watched his eyes glaze over and jaw hang open as his thrusts slowed, making a mess of your pussy as he came deep inside of you.

Your second orgasm followed soon after, cock twitching inside of you as you clenched around him. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder as you stepped away from the glass, legs unstable as a furious warmth came up over your cheeks.

After getting cleaned up together in the bathroom, he flicked off the light as you turned towards the window. His body pressed up against yours, arm secured around your waist as he peppered kisses along your neck and shoulders, musing about how beautiful you are.

“Best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered, another kiss to the outer shell of your ear that made a shiver go up your spine. “I love you more than anything.”

You curled into him and listened to the relaxing rain, his steadying breath and strong arm lulling you safely to sleep.

[queers-gambit]

Campus Breakdown

prompt: ( requested ) after a hard day, at least you can come home to him.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: reader's a graduate student, cursing, small angst but mostly small hurt bigger comfort.

The door slammed shut in a forceful rattle, making Carmy perk up from his place on the couch. "Baby?" He called, setting aside the magazine you left behind.

"Carmy?" You sounded confused, exiting the foyer to round into the living room. "Hey, what're you doing home so early?"

"Uh, pipe burst at work, left Fak t'deal with it," he sniffled, muting the television. "What's up with you? Or do you always slam doors happily around here?"

You sighed, "Sorry, I just - it's been a day and a half, you know?"

He pouted dramatically, offering, "Wanna tell me 'bout it?"

"It won't fix what happened."

"No, but it might help get it off your chest, filter a little emotion."

You nodded absently, "I think I might want a glass of wine first - maybe two."

He felt a surge of empathy in his chest, knowing that distant look in your eyes and the way your entire demeanor seemed absent, distracted, exhausted. Work often kicked his ass, too, so there was an understanding after so many nights you had let him rant and rave about whatever went wrong - it was only right to return the favor.

Carmy readjusted the pillows and coffee table, leaning over to light the scented candle you kept there; grabbing a blanket to prepare for you. When you entered the living room, you had stripped out of your pants and was pouring a glass of wine, leaving the bottle on the cleaned-up coffee table; sighing when you dropped onto the couch.

"All right, pretty girl," Carmy chuckled, pulling your feet into his lap. You readjusted with a small grumble as Carmy then tossed the blanket over you, but left your feet out for him to massage. "Tell me what happened today."

You held up a single finger, downing more than half your glass of wine. Carm's brows perked up, blinking in shock before nodding slowly when you swallowed. "Today. Fucking. Sucked," you told him.

"I can see that, and feel it - your feet are knotted," he noted, working his thumbs into the meat. "Did you sit down at all today?"

"Well, no, 'cause I had to work alone today," you groaned. "Lisa has mono, Brittany had to make up some exam, Benjamin apparently had a meeting with the bursar's office, and Stacy literally stood outside, fighting with her boyfriend - like what!?"

Carmy offered you a stale look in reaction to your story, "She get docked?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, I kinda had to; she didn't bus a single table, she didn't talk to a single customer, like, the only other person working with me today was Carl and he was in the kitchen the whole time."

"Doesn't sound exactly fair..."

"It's a shitty campus diner, Carmy, 'fair' isn't exactly in their vocabulary, but the tips are semi decent 'cause we have that 'drunk rush special'. Oh! Wait! That's not all," you hummed, taking another gulp. "'Cause why would anything go right on a day I worked the entire floor alone? Right?"

"What else?" He asked, turning in his seat so he could face you directly; still massaging your feet, but leaning his cheek on your bent knee to remain close.

"The fucking register went down."

"You mean the only one in the whole place?"

"Yep, of course! 'Cause why the fuck wouldn't anything go right?" You scoffed. "And it's not like any of this was, like, hidden, you know? It was very obvious I was working alone, the register was fucked, but do you think that made anyone empathetic towards the situation? No, of course not, they wanted to just pay their bills and leave. Which I fucking get! But like, what!?"

"What'd you do?"

"Took cash only," you shrugged. "ATM was still up and running, so it was on them," you wiped you eyes, sighing deeply. "Still bitched the whole time though, complained to whoever listened. End of the night, that new manager even docked my tips, you believe that?"

"Hold up - for what?" Carm snapped.

"Customers were that pissed, Carmy, so a few of them dined-and-dashed, someone had to pay," you whined, head tilted back. "Like I did any of this on purpose? Like I went and unplugged shit myself? Like I wanted to make my life significantly harder? Do people even fucking think by themselves now? Where's the empathy?"

"Nah, they definitely lack in that department," he chuckled. "Know what I'm gonna say, right?"

"Hmm? Oh, Carmy, no," you groaned, "I'm not working at The Beef."

"It's ten times better than where you work, baby," he pouted. "And I could use someone with experience like yours with the customers. Richie's not always the best 'face of the store', you know?"

"No, Carmy," you refused sternly.

"C'mon, why not?"

"You as my boss? And boyfriend? Fuck no!"

"I'm literally so nice!"

"Yeah, that's exactly what Sydney says," you laughed, nudging his stomach with your foot. "Baby, no. Listen, I appreciate it, I really do, but I get ten times the tips at that shitty diner than I would at The Beef, and it's right on campus so I lose literally no time."

He sighed, "You're only, what? A year out from your Masters?"

"Just about," you grumbled with a pout.

Carmy chuckled, "C'mon, baby, don't torture yourself. Get a new job."

"I'm not, I'm just - " You cut yourself off with a sigh, hating that advice (as if it were just so simple), shaking your head and finishing your wine. "I'm just dealing with my current circumstances, I'm sorry I came home in a bad mood - "

"No, hey, wait," Carmy sat up, reaching for your cheek to hold, "I didn't mean to make you feel as if I was shutting you down. Baby, I always want you t'talk to me, okay? I just mean, there's something better out there, and you deserve better than that place. I hate seeing you so stressed out," he pouted dramatically, making you snicker lightly.

"You're one to talk," you reminded softly, sitting up so you could nestle under his arm. "You're stressed out, like, more than 90% of the time."

"Hey now, we're talkin' about your day, not mine," he deflected with a small chuckle. "What if I asked around a bit? You know, a different server job? I can check out places close to campus, but you'd get much better tips and better customers at a nicer place."

You groaned, "Now that sounds nice." He chuckled with you now. "I mean, it's bad enough I have to deal with those creepy frat boys in class, but in the diner, I have to play nice 'cause they tip with daddy's money well if I don't shut them up. It'd be nice working somewhere they couldn't even afford t'walk into."

"See? I'm good for something."

"You're good for everything, Carm, shut up," you laughed, leaning up to kiss his jawline. "I'm just tired of this whole 'pay your dues' bullshit. You know? I get having to suffer a little to build a better character, but for fuck's sake."

Carmy pouted, "Sounds like a second glass of wine kinda rant?"

You pouted back at him, nodding, both mockingly making little noises as he lifted from his sitting position to snag the bottle of wine. You smiled as he poured, watching his face, loving the effect he had on you; feeling calm and serene, and it wasn't the alcohol. When the bottle was set aside again, he tugged your legs over his lap and laid one of his arms around your shoulders; keeping you snuggled close and under the blanket.

"What else happened?" He asked softly, kissing your temple.

"I don't want to sound like I'm just bitching."

"How else do you expect to blow off steam? Huh?" He countered. "You're not bothering me, I want to hear this, baby - all of it. So, lemme recount, yeah? Okay, so, you worked alone your whole shift with only the frycook in the back, the cash register went down, and that made a buncha customers all pissed off. Enough that a few dipped off and you had to cover their bills. But the ATM was good, so they could still pay cash, but they were still being dickheads, yeah?"

"Mhm," you hummed, halting yourself.

"Nuh-uh, c'mon, what else?"

Tears sprung to your eyes as your head lulled onto his shoulder. "It was just a really shitty day, Carm," you whispered, giving a small sniffle. "Guys are grimy and gross, they garnished my wages 'cause of those dashers - I told you. It was a fucking shit show! Oh, and a few bulbs blew all within 10 minutes of each other - like fully snap, crackle, and pop, blew out. So, I had to call the electrician, he took over 2 hours to get there, so, part of the back dining room was darker and this group of guys all decided to sit back there - it was so fucking creepy!"

Carmen frowned, listening to you rant and rave about how overworked and under appreciated you were. He held you tight, raking a hand through your hair, tracing invisible patterns on your upper arm; keeping you close as the wine slowly sunk into your blood. You grew less lucid by the passing hour, mostly the exhaustion sinking in, but Carmy didn't mind.

He just adjusted you both on the couch so he was laid out with you safely tucked between the cushions and his body. You had long since changed subjects; going from shitty work conditions to sports to your coursework load, then to The Beef, breezed over whatever Richie's daily attitude was about, then quietly debated if Carmy was taking the weekend off to spend it with you. Now, the TV was the only light on in the apartment, wine bottle empty, you resting on Carmy's chest; his arms tight around you, blanket tangled around your legs, both speaking quietly into the night before sleep claimed you both.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 8

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

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Masturbation, Fingering, Pegging, Thigh Riding, Fluff, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

(by popular demand and because I think I learnt something about myself lmao)

You walked inside the apartment after a night out with your friends that had left you a little tipsy. It was late and everything was dark. You took your shoes off and padded around, hoping you didn't wake up Carmy.

As you approached the bedroom you could hear some rustling and humming inside. You cracked the door open a little. With the glow of the moon and the streetlights you could make out the silhouette of Carmy lying in bed, hair damp from the shower and head tilted back in pleasure. A soft moan escaped his lips.

You smiled. It wasn't the first time you had walked in on him masturbating. Sometimes it would happen that he would get back from work, find you sleeping and touch himself beside you - you had woken up twice for the end of it, sleepily kissing his face and saying how good he had been, and falling back asleep. Another time in the shower, you walked in and helped him finish. He had seen you too a couple of times - one had ended with his head between your legs. Bottomline, it wasn't an issue - more often than not it was a serious turn on. And so you leaned on the doorframe, quiet and careful not to interrupt Carmy, looking at how beautiful he looked in the pale moonlight. Except he turned over and instead of seeing him holding his cock like you expected, you saw him curling two fingers inside his asshole, all digits shiny with lube, his back arching in pleasure as he got on all fours.

"Fuck," he whined, a strong exhale followed by your name.

You pressed your thighs together, your heartbeat racing, enjoying the sight more than you ever thought you would.

Carmy kept arching into himself and you recognized the frustration of not being able to reach your climax. After some moments of thought you decided to walk in.

"Carm," you said, your voice low. "Can I help?"

"Fuck," he uttered, slightly surprised. He was sweaty and desperate and it stirred something inside you. "Fuck, sorry, you don't have to-"

"I know, I want to."

He handed you the bottle of lube and you warmed it up in your right hand, coating every finger. With your left hand, you tugged on his wrist, prying the fingers that were deep inside him, out.

"Please, please," he begged.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you," you leaned over, kissing the base of his spine, the pretty dimples he had there. Carmy keened once every finger was out and you soothed his back and waist, appreciating the view from this angle you rarely enjoyed. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," it was an ongoing agreement between you two but it was always nice to remind each other, especially when he was as desperate as this.

"Yes," he panted.

Carefully, you inserted your index and middle fingers, following what he had been doing before - your hands were smaller anyway. The sharp moan he let out was unlike any sound you had ever heard him make and it electrified you down to your toes.

"Holy shit, Carmy," you mumbled.

You were cautious, going slow, knuckle by knuckle,  but he thrust back into your hand.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he cursed, and started fucking himself into your fingers, squeezing, his back muscles flexing. "Thank you, thank you."

After a while of that, his rhythm started faltering and that frustrated sound came back, you leaned over and whispered:

"Tell me how you want it."

Carmy exhaled, stopping mid-thrust to recover his breath.

"Can you- shit, fuck- can you move your fingers?"

"Like you do with me?" you asked, remembering the delicious waves his fingers made inside you.

"Exactly like that," he chuckled and leaned back to caress your forearm.

You moved your fingers like he asked, changing the rhythm until it was something Carmy enjoyed. Your wrist cramped, unaccustomed to the motion, and when you shifted and started over, Carmy let out a cry of absolute bliss.

"Oh," you marveled, trying to touch the same spot again.

"Right fucking there, please, please, please..." he begged and you were so happy to give him everything he wanted. Your underwear was soaked with the noises he was making.

"You're doing so good, Carmy," you said.

His hand reached behind to touch you, anything, your thigh, your arm, and squeeze the hell out of it while his asshole clenched around your fingers.

"I'm so close," he fell face forward, his ass up as you kept hitting that same spot. "Feels so good."

Some primal part of you awoke, and you leaned forward to grab his hair and pull on it, not too hard, just enough to push him over the edge.

"Jesus, fuck, holy shit," he said, followed by some unintelligible noises that were probably curses too, and he came hard - shaking and panting.

You smiled, keeping your fingers in there and moving until he asked you to stop. You kissed his dimples again and went inside the bathroom to wash your hands and get some wipes. Gently, you moved Carmy to lie on his side and cleaned his ass, and the mess of cum on his stomach and chest. You laid beside him on the bed, him stark naked and you fully clothed.

"Baby, baby, baby," he mumbled, his eyes glazed and fucked out, caressing your thigh, beckoning you closer so he could kiss you. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Thank you."

You kissed him deeply, passionately, with all the hunger he had made you feel while you fingered him. Then you pressed a chaste peck on his jaw.

"What're you sorry for, Carm?" you asked softly.

"I didn't mean to force you to-"

"You didn't force me. You've never forced me to do anything," you said, carding your fingers through his hair. "I don't think you have it in you, Berzatto," you teased.

He smiled lazily.

"How'd this all come up?" you asked after a while, still caressing his face and hair.

He reached over you to his bedside table and handed you the sex book you had gifted him months and months ago when you first started fucking. The covers were worn in and there were several dog eared pages; one was on prostate stimulation.

"I know you meant it as a joke," he smiled bashfully. "But it got me thinking- And I wanted to try it out myself before saying something," he explained. "Didn't mean to leave you out of it or anything."

You kissed him again, tenderly this time. It was such a vulnerable thing and he was willing to share it with you. You caressed his shoulders and chest.

"So did you like it?" you asked against his lips.

Carmy nodded. "It was fucking fire."

"Well, I thought it was unbelievably hot too, so..." you confessed.

Carmy hummed softly, almost purring as he leaned forward to kiss you. His hands teased at the belt loops of your jeans, inching closer and closer to the button and zipper.

"There's no need, Carm," you whispered; you could tell he was completely wiped out.

"I want to. I want to," he got rid of your jeans and underwear with shaky hands. "I'm just gonna say thank you real quick."

He went down your body and placed himself between your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders.

"Oh, you really thought it was hot," he gasped, the proof of it glistening right in front of him.

"I wouldn't lie about that," you chuckled, already bucking your hips at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

"Good," he said.

He closed his eyes as he licked and sucked and kissed you, giddy and glowing from his orgasm. You let go, enjoying all of it, caressing his face and feeling the tight knot of anticipation in you unravel fast. You came with a sigh, gently grinding on his nose, feeling weightless.

Carmy climbed back up, and put his head on his hand. He looked at you.

"What is it?" you asked, smiling.

"Would you-" he turned away for a moment, embarrassed. "Would you ever consider- uh- fucking me?"

Your heart skipped a beat and you could feel the fire in your lower belly reigniting.

"I'll definitely think about it, Carm."

~

You knocked on the backdoor to the restaurant and Richie opened it, backpack in tow.

"Hey, there," he greeted you, kissing your cheek, and let you in. "Mr OCD is almost done with his deep clean."

The kitchen was almost empty. Syd was picking up her stuff - with a smile and a roll of her eyes she pointed to where Carmy was, kneeling and scrubbing.

You had seen him clean the floor before, except now finding him on his knees reminded you of a few nights before when he was on all fours, keening with every move your fingers made, arching his back...

"Oh, hey," he looked up and smiled at you. "Why are you here? You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, trying to hide the blush on your face with your scarf. "You said you'd meet me like half an hour ago, is all."

Carmy tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

"That can't be right," he turned to the clock. "Shit. Syd's still here?"

"She just left."

"I'm sorry, lost track of time," he got up and started picking everything up.

Once every light was off, you stood there in the doorway waiting for him. He had to scoot close to you to get through; your eyes wandered over his body.

"What?" he chuckled.

"Just thinking about how good you look on your knees," you flirted.

He laughed and kissed you hungrily against the doorframe.

"I'll do it. I'll fuck you whenever you want," you said, your cold hands finding the skin of his waist. "I mean it."

He ground against you, humming with pleasure.

"Fuck," his voice was hoarse. "Next week okay?"

"Next week works for me," you said playfully before licking his lower lip.

He kissed you one last time before he pulled away to lock the door. You shivered a little in the Chicago cold and Carmy put an arm around you.

~

Carmy guided you to stand by the bed; he sat in front of you, caressing the side of your hips and thighs, something adoring in his gaze.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice breathy with nerves and need.

"Okay."

He placed a kiss in the valley between your breasts, inhaling you deep, and then leaned sideways to retrieve the harness from his bedside table. He secured the strap on carefully to your hips. You watched him work, the way his hands moved over and around you, the way his eyes lit up when he looked up at you. You cupped his face.

"And you? You sure?" your thumb circled his cheekbone.

He smiled and kissed your palm. "Yeah."

You finally took your eyes off of him and glanced at the dildo. Carmy had chosen it. It was on the shorter and slimmer side, which was a relief in a way - the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him in the heat of the moment. You touched the side of it experimentally.

"All good?" he asked, tilting his head.

"A little weird," you replied honestly. You took a step further between his legs, your nails scratching gently at his muscled back. "Want to make you feel good so bad," you said in a raspy voice.

"Fuck," Carmy groaned when you pushed him gently to lay on the bed.

"On your hands and knees," you told him, the thrill of anticipation made you feel less self conscious about taking control.

He rushed to obey, turning his back towards you, letting you see the butt plug he had placed inside himself before you came home. He was nervous about stretching himself in front of you, he had said.

"Let me know if I can help next time," you said softly, one hand soothing the small of his back and the other holding a bottle of lube. "I mean if you- If we like it, you know?"

"Next time," he agreed, his voice breathy. "Didn't want to blow my load before you even put the strap on is all."

You giggled. "It would have been kinda hot." He huffed in response.

Your hands settled on his waist, bracing as you kneeled on the bed behind him.

You poured a huge amount of lube on your hand, letting a dollop of it fall on Carmy's ass, making him hiss a little from the cold, while you covered the dildo in it.

You tugged on the butt plug, a mess of lube gathering on the base of it already, making it glide right out as Carmy made a drawn out, low sound.

"Fuck," you whispered, heart hammering inside your chest. You lined up the dildo. "Slow at first, okay?"

"Yes, please, just- please," he begged and you knew the harness would need some serious washing once you were done with how turned on you were getting. It was everything: Carmy's pleading voice, his back muscles flexing, the excitement of making him feel good, the nervousness of trying something entirely new...

You pushed inside him.

"Oh, fuck," he said in a hoarse voice. You could see his legs trembling as he contained the impulse of leaning back on you too quick. You moved gently, carefully, inch by inch until you bottomed out. "Fuck, yes!" he let out.

You stayed still for a while, letting him get accustomed to the stretch, listening to him breathe deep, something like a growl trapped in the back of his throat.

"Okay?" you asked caressing his sides, from his waist up to his ribs and back, soft skin scribbled with ink.

"Yeah," he sighed. "You can move now."

You leaned back and forth, holding his waist. He only hummed softly - it wasn't good, not yet. You tried shifting a little to find a less awkward position.

"You make this look so easy," you complained after a while, struggling to get comfortable.

Carmy laughed and you joined him.

"You showed me what to do," he said, reaching behind to touch your hand reassuringly. "But some of it was- I don't know- instinct I guess..."

And you knew what he meant. There came a moment in sex where something took over, when your hips moved with a will of their own.

"Hey. It's okay," he reassured you. "Pretty sure that if you just stayed there and talked dirty for a minute I would still come."

You giggled and the vibrations made Carmy moan a little, that delicious sound you loved so much. You had to at least try.

"Mind if we change it up a little?" you leaned over to place a kiss on his spine. "You on your back so I can see you?"

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds- yeah," he agreed breathily.

With you between his open legs, it wasn't all that different from when you were riding him. You could see Carmy close his eyes in pleasure as you finally found a rhythm.

"Fucking- that's so good, so fucking good, baby," he said and the praise went right down to your pussy, the mere friction of the harness making you moan in unison with Carmy. One of your hands gripped the mattress while the other held tight to his side, that bit of skin between the V of his stomach and his hip. He was sweating and heaving underneath you.

"Fuck. You look so fucking hot, Carm, holy shit," you blurted out. It made him smile and reach for your hand. His touch was gentle, grateful, even as he let out a growl from deep inside his chest.

You shifted your hips a little, trying to keep the strap on in place and Carmy exhaled shakily.

"Right there," he squeezed your wrist. "Right fucking there. Please, please, please..."

"I got you, Carm, I got you,"

You kept hitting that spot until he was writhing on the bedsheets, reaching for the edge of the bed, and arching his back. There were tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Please keep going," he whined.

You scratched his skin, the sinful sounds you two were making spurring you on.

"Look at you! You're wonderful, you're perfect, Carm."

"Fuck you," he said without bite. He was meeting your thrusts desperately. "You can't say shit like that when I'm so close."

"Oh, I think it's the perfect moment to say shit like that," you replied, fucking him faster, whispering sweet nothings between each thrust: "You're gorgeous. And you're being so good, Carm, so good..."

"I- I'm-" was all he could say before he came with a long groan - hands in his hair, neck arched, veins pulsing.

If the sounds he was making were any indication, he was coming harder than he ever had, and the thought made you shiver with satisfaction. You stopped moving and he exhaled heavily.

"What the fuck was that?" he was panting and smiling, sweaty like he had run for miles.

You caressed his thighs, your eyes wandering over his chest and stomach, and the trail of dark hair that went down his navel - all covered with cum.

"Good?" you asked with a proud grin.

"I think I died for a minute there, baby," he said like it was the highest praise. And maybe it was.

"I'm going to pull out, get you cleaned up," you said softly after a couple of minutes. He nodded dreamily, letting out a grunt once the dildo was out.

You were thorough and gentle, kissing and caressing as you wiped his skin with a wet cloth. It took a little while with how messy you had been with the lube situation and how hard Carmy had come.

"Look," he gestured at the scratches you left on his hip, bright red lines on pale skin.

"Shit, sorry" you leaned over to kiss them too. "Does it hurt?"

"A little. I kinda dig it though," he said with a smirk. "Might get a tattoo there later," he teased, and you had to silence a needy, embarrassing sound.

You climbed up his body and kissed him, all tongue and fervor, your fingers buried deep in his curls. You had taken the harness off and arousal was wetting the inside of your thigh.

"Please tell me we'll do this again," you said against his lips.

"You liked it too?" he asked, a little surprised.

"I'm fucking soaked, Carm," you confessed, too tired to try to be delicate about it. "Loved making you feel that good, cum that hard..."

He hummed contentedly, tracing lines on your back with his fingers. "Any notes?"

"I might have to use a toy when we're done next time but other than that, no," you said honestly.

"Not now?" he asked, frowning.

Before Carmy, you were okay with going to bed frustrated, or rubbing your clit furiously in the bathroom to get a quick orgasm after some mediocre sex. This wasn't that. It was fucking great sex. However-

"I don't want to move," you replied, snuggling closer to Carmy's side.

"Oh, I get that," he chuckled; it was a weary sound, he was struggling to stay awake.

You felt so warm and comfortable. You didn’t want to break the lovely snowglobe of tenderness you were both in to grab a fucking toy from the drawer.

After a moment of thought, Carmy angled one of his legs in your direction, his muscular thigh now between your own. He nudged upwards, smearing your arousal on his own skin, silently proposing a solution to your problem.

"Can I-?" you asked anyway, your hips moving forwards, a shaky exhale leaving your lips when your clit touched his skin.

"Mhmm," he nodded, capturing your lips in a kiss, drowning your moans as you started riding his thigh in earnest.

You were so worked up it didn't take long, a few frantic thrusts and you were shaking and rolling your eyes.

"Carm," you gasped, and he held you through it, one hand on the small of your back and the other caressing your face. His half lidded eyes stared as you finally came, shivering in his hold.

"Thank you," he whispered between kisses. "I mean it. You were- It was everything."

You smiled groggily.

"I loved it. I loved it, Carm," you repeated. "I love you," you managed to say before falling asleep, safe in his arms.

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[somehow-a-human]

Whose POV is it Anyway?

Bodysnatchers & Cosplaying a bookseller

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

I'm back! I took a few days off of doing internet thingsss so I took a break from writing this series of posts but I'm back and continuing with episode 3 in its entirety!

For reference & context, I recommend reading these posts:

Whose POV is it Anyway? - Introduction

Lens Filters

POV "Your 'Something's Wrong' Voice"

POV a Trip to Hell and a 25 Lazarii Miracle

POV a Companion to Owls

POV The Dirty Donkey & I think I Found a *Clue*!

Shall we get cracking?

Episode 3 gifts us the arrival of Muriel! Sweet adorable Muriel! We see them arrive to the bookshop, with the Bronze Glimmer Glass filter in full effect. Aziraphale is the only one there so it makes sense we'll have Aziraphale's POV to start. Cupperteas ensue, and Crowley arrives to be grumpy but fully accepting that Aziraphale is taking their car, I mean, he's already brought the plants inside. His sideburns are long here as well.

When the duo head into the backroom to discuss what's going on, the filter changes, the lighting is much cooler toned, and we're now looking through the Black Diffusion FX filter in Crowley's POV. Crowley's sideburns are also short now, and if my theory that POV is also correlating with his hair length, it's standing here.

As Aziraphale drives off, we see Crowley watch him from the window and sigh, sideburns still short, still his POV.

I'm going to stick to the present day storyline and switch to the bodysnatchers minisode at the end!

The time Aziraphale and Crowley spend apart in this episode is interesting to say the least. If we're trying to look at the lighting and possible lens filters used to determine the narrator or POV for these scenes... I think they're switched!

When we see Aziraphale driving the Bentley, the scene isn't awash with glowy warm lighting which we know isn't reserved just to the bookshop since we've seen it used in the record shop, coffee shop, and in the Job flashback.

It's rather cool toned lighting for a yellow bentley. Aziraphale's whole trip to Edinburgh is cool toned. The time he spends in The Resurrectionist, the graveyard, everything. I would have expected Aziraphale's magical little newspaperman cosplaying extravaganza to be dripping in his golden glow through the gorgeous Edinburgh when I started thinking about the scenes and these lense filters and these metas.

But then you look at the opposite, Crowley alone in the bookshop with Jim. Something he would hate right? Sounds like worst case scenario for him. He loves the bookshop but he's there alone with Gabriel who tried to kill the person he loves more than anything and didn't have an ounce of compassion, while Aziraphale has taken himself and his car very far away.

But what is Crowley's experience like? He and Gabriel are chummy as ever, they talk about rainstorms, vavooming, gravity. Crowley dresses down and is wearing sleeve garters? A bit old fashioned for Crowley but not for Aziraphale no? He's playing bookseller, carrying books around, albeit not quite correctly, chucking them at the end. Every scene is drenched in warm golden haze and Crowley's sideburns are long the entire time.

They aren't together, but they've always probably got one thing on their mind...

I think we're seeing these scenes through each other's eyes, or the POV is swapped if you will. Maybe that's why Crowley is wearing sleeve garters and cosplaying bookseller and being very kind to Jim? And Aziraphale is being the worlds cutest little investigator to ever exist. I think maybe they're imagining each other, or it just points to the idea that they're apart but still the only thing they're always thinking about.

Okay, cute lovebomb, now let's talk digging up dead bodies!

There isn't a lot to go off of for lighting in this minisode, but there is one detail I wanted to point out that has to do with Crowley's hair length. In all locations BUT the crypt his mutton chops are longer. When they enter the crypt both times, they are shorter.

You can see they are a distinct "J" shape in most scenes but in the crypt scenes (for example when he drinks laudanum and busts through the roof) they have been trimmed back). So if I'm going just on hair length, all scenes except the crypt are Aziraphale's POV.

If you can look past my terrible image quality, you can see on the right image his chops are notched where on the left they're doing the opposite.

NEXT

POV 1941

[genericpuff]

Hello :) Same brush anon as before. I actually forgot a few brushes! Silly me. I wrote that up at midnight and forgot to double-check. Let me amend that.

Watercolors used primarily for backgrounds/transitions (all found in Kyle's Watercolor pack)

Puddle Brush

Soft Irregular Wash Variant

Soft Wash Edgy

Splatter Versa (used in early LO episodes because they look like flower petals)

Pastel, Gouache, and other textured brushes (used either for FX or backgrounds):

Creamy and Creamy Variation (Kyle's Megapack) (These two were used for Eros' abstract wings in early LO)

Gouache Wet (Kyle's Megapack) (This would also be used for Eros' wings)

Gooey and Gooey C (Kyle's Megapack) (used sparingly to create abstract foliage in the background or to add background texture)

Gouache Supreme, Gouache Supreme Opaque, Natural Feel, and Natural Feel Super (all Kyle's Megapack) (used for background texture, the texture on Persephone's fur coat, and occasionally "painting" the clothing onto the characters)

Additional notes:

Any of the seasonal drops (the Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer collections) include various one-off brushes she's used such as abstract shapes and a few additional foliage brushes. These are unnecessary for consistency but are fun to have if you want to experiment and/or to use for yourself!

Both Kyle's Impressionist pack and the Paintbox section of the Megapack have some interesting oil/impressionist brushes that were used once or twice as background textures in early LO. Again, they are not needed for consistency but can be useful to have on hand.

The Halftone pack is only used sparingly in LO as texture for clothing/fabric. Again, they are unneeded for consistency but can be useful to experiment/use for your own needs.

Happy drawing!

i'm literally so overwhelmed by this, all that time hunting down these brushes and speculating on what we were missing and you just. you have the LO brush manifesto. the holy grail of this community. hiding in plain sight.

i'm so grateful to you anon, please take all of my thanks for sharing all these in all your apparently infinite wisdom, this means so much to me and everyone in this community.

at the risk of asking god for too much, with all the brushes you've shared here paired with the brushes that we know of from what Rachel has shared herself ...

... does this mean it's done? we've found them all? the search is over?

because if that's what you're saying then all that leaves for us now is to just. create. and learn. and create more. and even if these aren't all of them, they're more than we've ever had access to before and you made that possible in ways you can't imagine. i know i'm sounding really fucking sentimental here over what's literally just a bunch of photoshop brushes but every find so far has been like digging up breadcrumbs one by one and you just. you just dropped the whole gingerbread house in our laps, right in time for the new year.

i don't know who you are and i don't know if i ever will, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you. thank you so fucking much.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Love Test – Joe Keery

Inspired by Big Bang Theory S8 E16

Working on Fargo was an interesting experience. The cast was great, but I couldn't help but feel like they all knew something that I didn't. I've been doing the actors' hair and makeup so I have a lot of one-on-one time with each person.

Fargo was my first big job. Before this, I worked in my mom's salon, mainly doing the hair of sixty-year-old women. One of my clients knew someone who knew someone whose nephew worked with FX. Through the grapevine, my mom found out that FX needed a new makeup and hair person.

I get along fairly well with the cast, but there was always something a little awkward between me and one of the younger cast members: Joe Keery. I've seen him act in person and he's really good, but when we get one-on-one, the only thing we're able to do is maintain awkward small talk.

Barely.

"Y/N, are you coming?" David Rysdal asked.

I turned around to see a few of the cast mates walking into the makeup trailer.

"To what?"

"Party at my house!"Jon Hamm laughed.

"Oh," I laughed awkwardly.

"You're coming right?" Juno Temple asked.

"I'll stop by," I shrugged.

"Great!" Jon Hamm cheered. "See you tonight at 7."

I didn't want to go, but after 5 seasons, this season's cast has been putting in more of an effort to get me to hang out with them. I went home after we wrapped up for the day and put more work into making myself look good. When I showed up, the party was in full swing. Jon really did invite everyone on set.

Two hours and way too much drinking later, some of us were sitting around the coffee table, talking.

"Have you guys heard about this experiment to see if you could make two people fall in love in a matter of hours?" David asked.

"Hours?" I asked. "Is it even possible?"

"That's why it's an experiment, Y/N," Jennifer Jason Leigh scoffed.

"The participants ask each other a series of questions designed to promote intimacy. And they finish it off by staring into each other's eyes for four minutes," David quickly explained to lessen the awkwardness.

"We should try it!" Juno cheered as she bounced up and down.

"Y/N and Joe should try it," Jon said with a smirk that made me nervous.

"Us?" Joe and I said in sync.

I cleared my throat and added, "Why us?"

"Why not?" Juno smirked.

"I will text you both the questions," David said as he typed on his phone. I sighed when I got the message.

"You can use my office," Jon said. "It's right through there."

"Great," I mumbled under my breath. Joe and I shared a look. He stood up and reached his hand out for me to take.

"Shall we?" He asked, trying to sound light.

"Don't have much of a choice, it would seem."

It was extremely awkward as Joe and I walked into Jon Hamm's office. We sat down on the couch, neither one of us saying anything. I grabbed my phone and looked through the questions. Every single one I read, made me want the floor to open up and swallow me even more.

"Okay," Joe said as he turned toward me. "You ready?"

"I guess," I shrugged. I glanced up to see Joe looking at me weirdly. I cleared my throat and read the first question. "Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a diner guest?"

"Bing Crosby," Joe answered instantly.

"Really?" I asked. "Bing Crosby? Why?"

"I grew up watching White Christmas," Joe explained. "I've seen everything that Bing Crosby did. Also, my mom listened to his music all the time. He's the reason I went into acting."

"Oh," I said softly. "That's actually really sweet."

"Thanks," he smiled. "What about you?"

"Pat McGrath."

"Who?"

"She's a British make-up artist," I said, a blush forming. "Vogue called her the most influential make-up artist of all time. She's kind of like my idol."

"Did she inspire you to go into makeup?" He asked.

"A little," I shrugged. "My family did. My mom owns a hair salon back home. I got into makeup because I wanted to start a new business and connect it to my mom's salon. She'd do clients' hair and I'd do their nails and makeup."

"You didn't go into it," he said slowly. "Did something. . ."

"We had a falling out," I confessed when he didn't ask his question. "Technically my dad and I had a falling out. My mom was just an innocent bystander. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps of dental school while my mom wanted me to follow in hers. No matter what I did, one of them would be upset."

"I'm sorry," Joe said, his voice dropping.

I cleared my throat and looked at the list of questions. "Next question?"

"Next question," Joe nodded as he looked at his phone and read the list. "What would constitute a perfect day for you?"

"It's going to sound lame," I mumbled, messing with my fingers.

"Try me," Joe said gently as he lowered his phone.

"My perfect day would start with me sleeping in," I started to explain. "I'd wake up and put on an outfit that was comfortable but still made me look amazing."

I blushed as Joe smiled at me. Before I could wimp out, I kept talking. "I'd walk around a mall, sipping my favorite coffee drink, and go on a small shopping spree. Girly, but what can I say?"

"No judgment," Joe chuckled. "What else would you do?"

"I'd end the shopping spree at the bookstore," I confessed. "On the way home, I'd pick up my favorite dish at my favorite Italian place on Meaker."

"Girmaldis?"

"Yeah," I said slowly, a little shocked. "You know that place?"

"It's my favorite." This sudden tension that has been building since the cast put us in the spotlight, started to thicken between us. He cleared his throat before asking, "Anything else you'd do?"

"Just finish the night with binge-watching my favorite show," I said. "And then a bubble bath."

"Sounds amazing," he chuckled. "Although, I'm not much of a bath person."

"Then you've clearly never taken a good one," I teased.

"Guess not," he shrugged.

"What about you? What would your perfect day consist of?" I asked, the nerves still jumping around my stomach.

"Oh, it's super adventurous," he chuckled. "I'd sleep in and spend most of my day doing nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing," he confirmed. I thought about asking him more but didn't bother to push him.

Instead, I looked down at my phone and asked the next question. "What is something that makes you feel unstoppable?"

"Weirdly enough," he chuckled, "when I'm at one of my premieres. Especially if I'm proud of what I worked on. What about you? What makes you feel unstoppable, Y/N?"

"When I see a really hard makeup look that I did on the big screen," I said instantly. Joe just smiled at me before looking back at his phone.

"If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?"

"No social anxiety," I blurted. "I just. . . I mean. . ."

"It's okay," Joe said gently. "Not everyone likes being in big groups. Hell, even I get a little bit of anxiety when I'm on the red carpet."

"That's different," I mumbled, looking down at my hands.

"You're right," he said quickly. Joe leaned over and delicately put his hand over mine. I looked up to see him smiling at me. "I'm sorry. It's not the same thing. I wish I could help you with your social anxiety."

The tension was thick between us again. It didn't seem to go away as I said, "What about you? What quality or ability would you want?"

"Don't tease me too much," he smiled as he slowly pulled his hand back into his lap, "but I wish I was better at something, anything."

"What do you mean?"

"The only thing I feel like I'm good at is acting," Joe continued. "I wish there was something else I could do. It would be nice to have something I could fall back on when acting eventually doesn't work out anymore."

"Why are you so sure it won't work out for long?"

"Actors don't act forever. It'd be nice to have a safety net," he shrugged. Without another word, he read the next question. "What is something you consider too serious to joke about?"

"People's appearances," I said a little too quickly. He looked up at me, making my face burn.

"Did someone. . ."

"Your turn," I cut him off. "What is something that you think is too serious to joke about?"

"People's relationships," Joe said, his voice soft. "I always hate when guys talk about their girlfriends like they're objects. Some things should stay between the couple. A guy shouldn't share everything with his friends."

"That's. . . Sweet," I barely got out. I cleared my throat and looked at my phone. "How do you react to anger from others?"

"Doesn't really affect me, if I'm being honest. Especially if it had nothing to do with why they're angry," he shrugged. Joe's smile dropped when he saw the look on my face. He lowered his voice as he asked, "What about you?"

"I don't handle it well," I said softly. I looked at my hands and started picking at my nail polish.

"Y/N. . ." He whispered.

"My parents used to fight a lot," I continued, my voice shaky. "It was never my fault but. . . When they fought, I'd lock myself in my room and read or listen to music. They fought all the time. The only time they weren't fighting was when they were each at work. My mom was at her salon from opening to closing. My dad was at his dental office way past closing."

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Joe said. He went to grab my hand but I grabbed my phone and read out the next question.

"Do you often listen to your intuition?"

"Not nearly enough as I should," Joe said with a small chuckle.

"Same," I said, still looking at my phone. "Last question. If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone?"

"My feelings," he blurted out. I snapped my head up and looked at him.

"Your what?"

"I just. . . I have a tendency to keep my feelings to myself," he stuttered. "When I like a girl, I rarely tell her."

The tension was officially suffocating as we stared at each other. "What would you regret not saying?" Joe asked, his voice soft.

"I guess," I said slowly, "I'd regret not telling my parents how I really feel. I've never told them how much their fighting affected me. I should've been more honest with them."

"You still have the chance," he said gently. "Luckily, you're not going to die tonight so you can still talk to your parents."

"That's true," I said softly. "That also means that you can still tell a girl you have feelings for her."

The second I said it, my face burned. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't form the words.

"What's next?" Joe asked.

"Well, we finished the questions so now we stare into each other's eyes for four minutes," I said, clearing my throat. I grabbed my phone and set a timer. "Go."

I looked up, my heart instantly jumping into my throat as Joe and I made eye contact. The longer we stared at each other, the harder it was to not look away.

"Wow," Joe chuckled. "This is kinda. . ."

"Awkward," I whispered.

"But, to be honest, this has been working."

"You think so?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I mean, the questions got us to open up to each other. And staring into each other's eyes forms a. . ."

"Connection," I said under my breath.

"Connection," he agreed. I hadn't realized we were getting closer until our noses touched. By the time I realized it, Joe had made the first move.

My heart jumped into my throat when Joe gently pressed his lips to mine. Time froze as we slowly began moving our lips in sync. As slow as we initiated the kiss, we broke it.

"Well," I whispered, "I guess the experiment works."

"Something tells me this is exactly why the others had us do this experiment," Joe whispered.

"You're damn right!" Jon yelled from the other side of the door, making Joe and I laugh.

"Leave them alone!" Juno chastised. "If you want them to get together, you can't interrupt their moments."

"Oh boy," I sighed. Joe gently grabbed my chin, making me look at him. I blushed as he leaned in and kissed me again.

"Hey," Joe whispered, breaking the kiss. "Let's get out here."

[sunnyfoxsstuff]

Hey felt a little sick kinda nauseous lastnight but im not dead xD anyways i hope you all are fine and well and that your days are going well ;)

Chapter 3: new's

FX:"if he's dead why would he be there then? I mean it doesnt seem like him to want revenge"

Xie lian didnt really know what to do or say but he decided he'd still help shi qingxuan if he need help on that note mu qing and feng xing left soon after,

A little while later shi qingxuan came out with the New fresh robe on that xie lian gave him it had only one color but he seemed content with it, they've continued the day by chatting catching up while at the same Time shi qingxuan would help xie lian with chores and such soon enough the Sun started setting down for the day

Sqx:"between do you know if uh, hua cheng's gonna Come?" Looking at xie lian

XL:"he probably will why? Do you need something? I could try to help you" looking back at shi qingxuan with a gentle smile

Sqx:"ah- uh- well i dont think you could help me honestly, dont take it against you though!" He said a bit awkwardly, a silence then took place until he spoke again "actually could you ask hua cheng to bring he xuan? I wanna start over our friendship and make it up for what my brother did to him because of me but i know hua cheng wouldnt even want to help me" looking straight at xie lian with a determined look keeping his bright smile on sure of himself

Xie lian was speechless he wanted to refuse after all shi qingxuan had countless nightmare's about what happened back there in black water's manor, he xuan's manor and now he was willing to see he xuan again, "i'll see what i can do but are you really sure?" He answered concerned, shi qingxuan just nodded and smiled at his Friend, xie lian went on and prepared their diner which shi qingxuan was fearing he did not want to die a seccond time by xie lian's food but before he could say anything a swarm of silver butterfly's appeared and a tingling sound could be heard

"san lang! Welcome home" said xie lian with a bright smile looking at the red ghost king that appeared out of the swarm of silver butterfly's

HC:"did gege missed me?" He chuckle smiling back but glaring back looking over at shi qingxuan "what is he. Doing here gege? Is he bothering you again"he say's in a calm but strict ton

XL:"now now he isnt here for that actually he's only staying the night he wanted to Come visit me, we'll talk about all this around diner alright? It's almost done" he say's calmly putting a hand on hua cheng's back to then go back to cooking, hua cheng followed xie lian watching him cook

Shi qingxuan on his side decided to go outside, take some fresh air knowing hua cheng could've definitely tried to put him out of puqi shrine, After what felt like minutes but were only second's shi qingxuan got up and went a bit forward on the grass and started to dance like he used to to summon the wind his right hand acting like he was still holding his fan,

Xie lian noticing shi qingxuan wasnt inside proceeded on goin to the door looking outside seeing shi qingxuan dancing his old dance even noticing the gesture he was doing as if he had a fan, hua cheng soon joined xie lian's side

XL:"Say san lang do you think you could call the black Ghost king over for tomorrow?" He say's keeping his eye's on shi qingxuan dancing as calm as the wind is

HC:"why if i may ask gege" raising an eyebrow turning his head to xie lian

Pausing for minute xie lian then turn's his head to hua cheng "shi qingxuan he..came here to ask to meet black water"

HC:"tch, im not gonna do something for him." He say's crossing his arm's

XL:"san lang!" Sighing "then do it for me? After all im the one asking you it"looking away having his mind up about it

HC:"fine if it's what gege want, though you do know that your 'friend' is dead right? Its as clear as day light" walking back to the table setting bowl's down to eat and glasse's

XL:"of course i know even if it's hard to take it in" looking at hua cheng setting the table

Sorry but imma stop it here again i already wrote it longer than i thought i could it was hard to put up sense in what i would write next and all sadly no he xuan in this chapter and dont mind the title please i didnt know what to put :')

[ashinbloom]

Mechvore 1

Your head is pounding as you blink awake, the distant sound of artillery shell explosions and gunfire slowly filtering in. You squint and hold your head as your vision slowly comes into focus. Where are you? What happened? You were on a transport with your squad, you think, en route to rendezvous with the Mech division.

Shouting.

Panic.

Explosion?

Was the transport attacked? You decide you can hash it out later when you get to safety. You were expecting another hour on the transport so you weren’t geared out, but your pistol… You pat your hip and sigh. You left your pistol in your bunk.

You try your radio, but get no response. Only static. Your legs still work, as far as you can tell, so you decide to hoof it until you can get a read on the situation. Maybe reach higher ground and get a signal. So you start walking.

You’re still a ways off from the fighting, but that’s your safest bet. Ironic, you think, that running into gunfire and explosions is the safe option, but you push those thoughts aside. The forest, or maybe it could be considered a jungle, is quiet but that doesn’t mean it’s desolate. You march on for some time, wary of every twig or feather flutter you hear over the sounds of war, until you hear an unsettling but familiar sound. Your blood runs cold as you spin around, trying to pinpoint where it’s coming from. It could be anywhere, the way it’s echoing around you, but the sound is unmistakable.

A Mech.

You had been enamored with the Mech division when you joined up with the Corps. They were the best of the best behind the helms of giant, cutting edge, bipedal war machines that served as paragons of everything the Corps stood for. You were so excited when you passed the exams, when you were deemed to have a compatible personality profile, when you watched the live fire demonstrations. You were going to be a Mech Pilot and you were so ready.

Until you learned what being a Mech Pilot means.

The mechanical tromping gets closer and closer still, and you scramble in what you think is the opposite direction and hunker down on the other side of an embankment. You keep your head down, feeling the ground shudder under you and against your back as it gets closer. Closer. Closer. Wincing with each step until it stops. You can’t help but foolishly peek up over the bank.

There it is. An old FX Series Mech. It stands in the clearing, its back to you, but you can see its blue laser grid scanning wherever it looks as it scans from left to right as it says “Searching for Pilot.”

You duck back down, grabbing the pendant on your necklace and trying to breathe calmly and quietly. Perhaps you pray, if you’re that sort of person or just the desperate type. In any case, you just hope that it doesn’t find you.

You watch as the grid comes into your view on the thicket of trees to your left, slowly panning rightward. You hold yourself, make yourself as small as you physically can, as the grid moves in your direction. But you’re in luck and you can see where the grid picks up, leaving you hidden in the shadow of the embankment. You still hold your breath, though.

To your relief, the grid passes right over you. You stay still, daring not even to breathe as you listen to the Mech’s hydraulics and servos and its foodpads in the dirt as it walks away.

You let out a sigh of relief and before you can even get it out you gasp in shock. The grid is back over your position and a burning red.

“Acquiring Pilot candidate,” the Mech says. The FX series always had a synthesized voice that was pleasing to you, soothing. Maybe even a bit arousing, if you were being completely honest. But now it’s the most terrifying sound in the world. You clamber to your feet, scrambling as you dive away just in time to avoid the massive metal hand demolishing the bank you were hiding behind.

You bound across the stones in the creek, slipping from them half way across and trodding with sodden boots to the other side and into the treeline. The FX pursues you, a deluge of water spilling from the creek as it stomps through and onto the shore behind you. You make your way further into the forest, running toward the sound of gunfire the whole time, hoping that the trees will slow the Mech, or at least obscure you from its scanners.

The sound of cracking timber and grinding metal behind you tells you that your hopes were in vain.

You barely manage to dive away from a falling tree as its shadow grows around you, adrenaline allowing you to push yourself back to your feet as quickly as you hit the forest floor. The natural flow of the land funnels you downhill between two peaks as you run for your life. You don’t know where you are or where you’re going, but eventually, you run against a craggy rock wall. You try to jump and reach the ledge, you try to climb the jagged rock face.

You can’t.

You freeze as the red gridlines of the FX Mech’s scanner trace up your body, silhouetting you against the wall.

“Pilot candidate acquired,” its smoky synthesized voice affirms that you’ve nowhere left to run. Nowhere to hide.

You slowly turn around, hands raised about your shoulders to show you’re not a threat. You aren’t a threat, after all. “Please, I’m not a pilot,” your run-ravaged voice ekes out.

The Mech’s scanning field narrows around you. “Evaluating Pilot candidate.”

“I’m not a pilot!” your voice croaks out, as loud as you can make it. “I don’t want to be a pilot!”

“Irrelevant,” the mech’s disturbingly alluring voice says, “This unit requires biofuel.”

“I don’t care!” you plead, “Just… just let me go.”

The mech remains silent as it stands before you, its scan field shifting from red to green as it traces up one leg, briefly turning red again where it moves over your trick knee, then stays green as it traces up the other leg, up your torso, and down your arms. The light seems to sparkle and flash as you look into the single standard “eye” of the FX Series Mech as it scans your head. It feels like an entire rainbow flashes by before the scanner turns off.

“Candidate compatibility: Eight-seven percent,” the synthetic voice says. “Congratulations, Pilot.”

“No, no!” You press yourself against the wall, holding your hands out defensively. As if they’d be any defense against a war machine. “I’m not a pilot! I don’t want to be a pilot.”

“Irrelevant. The Pilot requires protection.”

“I don’t want your damn protection!”

“Irrelevant.”

The FX lowers itself while white steam rises from a seam around its front. A terrible stench like burnt meat and rot permeates the air as the hatch to the cockpit loses its hermetic seal. The mch leans forward, the hatch turning into a ramp as if it expects you to just climb inside. When it does, a gut-wrenching rattle rings out as the yellowed bones of the previous pilot tumble down the diamond steel walkway to the ground in front of you. You quiver where you stand, the soaked insole of your boot squelching with every bounce.

You know you can’t escape. You know it’s useless. It doesn’t stop you from trying. You run to the right, only for the Mech’s hand to slam into the rock wall beside you. You run left, and the other hand misses you by a hair’s breadth.

“Stop, please!”

Your pleas fall on deaf ears as the hands close around you, lifting you from the ground.

“Please remain calm, Pilot.”

You can barely even manage a feeble ‘I’m not a pilot.’ as you’re shoved into the cockpit and everything goes dark.

[hanasnx]

Ask and ye shall receive, so my take on this is that this is like 19-21 year old Anakin— possessive, jealous, emotional, horny horny horny, break the Jedi code to get my dick wet, falls in love hard, fast, and deeply—Skywalker, who went and caught feelings for his fwb. They were always firmly in agreement that it was "just sex," but it's never just sex with Anakin, he feels too much, so now that she's broken things off to get into a real relationship, he has to channel his all of his feelings into sex. It's not love, he just needs to fuck her one more time right? It's not jealously, he just thinks it's funny that he was fucking her on the side while she was dating this other guy. It's not possesiveness, he just knows he fucks her better than anyone else, even the man she fell in love with. One more time, just one more time, he'll make it so good, he'll channel every morsel of heartache into it, because if he can't have her he might as well make sure she can't forget him.

here's the version with subtle phone effects on the voice

https://soundgasm.net/u/AugustInTheWinter/M4F-Your-Ex-FWB-Leaves-You-a-Jealous-Voicemail

And here's the version without

https://soundgasm.net/u/AugustInTheWinter/M4F-Your-Ex-FWB-Leaves-You-a-Jealous-Voicemail-No-Phone-FX

Also disclaimer he doesn't sound exactly like Anakin, and the audio itself doesn't take place in the SW universe, but I get the feeling we're the same level of delusional and can fill in the gaps mentally. Anyway I hope you enjoy it, I'd love to hear your thoughts 💖

-👑

link 1

link 2

spoilers to the audio under the cut cos omfg these lines got me lookin like :o

☥ “… do you remember what happened next? .. i bet you do.”

☥ “does he know?” talking about fucking you after your dates with your now bf when you were unexclusive at the time that is my CRACK

☥ “fuck one more out of your system. you guy’s just started dating, it’s not even cheating. yea, baby, cmere,”

☥ “wonder if he thought about you during the week. overanalyzing every interaction. ‘oh, am i texting too much?’. maybe you weren’t texting back bcos you were begging for my cum.”

☥ WHEN HE SAID COCKSLAVE WOOOOOOOOOO

☥ “i cant believe i’m never gonna have that pussy again.” sounded so much like anakin’s voice i

☥ “but if you guys break up. you know where to find me.”

👑, i casually ate 5 pieces of pizza listening to this bcos ur right hot damn he does sound like anakin and i couldn’t pay attention to anything else. i was seeing the whole damn thing. usually i’m not into these, but i think bcos it was a “voicemail” and there was no awkward waiting parts where he was expecting u, the listener, to answer— i enjoyed it thoroughly. you know what i mean about those awkward silent parts?

your take?? golden much like your crown, bcos my usual premise for his one shots is that you’re his fwb, and it’s easier this way to keep things separate. but yes, those underlying confusing feelings he pushes away are always ones of “it’s just sex. i don’t love her. that’s crazy.” or “i’m not jealous i’m just aggravated i can’t be jealous when she’s not really mine…”

yet here he is. fisting his cock to the memory of you. the suns gone down where he’s staying, and no doubt you’re asleep. but he had to try to call you anyway, some time when you wouldn’t be around your new boyfriend. it’s just his voice that sends through, too dark to record a hologram for you. talking that filthy shit to you in hopes you’ll remember all the good you two had. come back for more.

i love what u had to say so much i want it tattooed on my forehead bcos it’s so frustratingly anakin to twist his own words and confuse himself in order to avoid the truth. also to fuck someone and then go ahead and fall the hell in love??? so on brand.

“yea i can keep my feelings separate….

no, actually i lied about that entirely. here are my feelings, they’re your problem now.”

specially bcos i imagine in this fwb relationship you took his virginity—

this was all over the place but i fuckig loveeeee the jealous ex fwb knowing he has no business talking to you like this when you’ve got a bf, but trying it anyway. bcos the chance of filling you up one last time is greater than the possibility of you refusing to talk to him because both you and him know the silent treatment won’t last.

literally ur invited into my inbox anytime love. i love ur mind

edit: i should say i do not condone cheating i just have an infidelity fantasy

[yellowharrington]

jaded -- chapter 1, carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen "carmy" berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx

warnings: sexual content, mention of unprotected piv sex, swearing, workplace relationship. minors dni with this story please.

word count: 1.4k+

a/n: guess who's back... back again... natty's back... tell a friend.... hey besties lol ik its been a year but i've been obsessed with the bear so i decided to write this. it will be a multichaptered fic and i will update it as soon as i've finished writing the chapters lmao. inspired by the song "jaded" by miley cyrus. pls pls pls enjoy

summary: fresh off of his breakup with claire, carmy needs a rebound. he just doesn't expect it to be his pastry chef.

masterlist | chapter 2

It starts with a ride home after service.

The sun had fallen down over the horizon, painting Chicago black with night. It’s chilly, middle of February, and you and Carmy are the only ones left at the restaurant. You’re both at the lockers, grabbing the last of your things and turning off the last few lights, leaving it behind you as you step out into the darkness of the street. Only amber lights are above you, illuminating Carmy’s face, along with the glow of his lighter around his cigarette. “How are you getting home?” He asks, looking down the alleyway. “Just the train,” you reply, gesturing towards the station a few blocks down the road. “Let me drive you,” he smushes the cigarette underneath the toe of his shoe, looking up at you, rather softly. “Oh, it’s not far,” you try to step the other way, before he grabs your shoulder lightly. “It’s cold, and fuckin’ dark, and there’s murderers. Just let me drive you home.” He was nothing if not protective. 

It really had been a short drive, slow tunes coming from his old car’s radio, drowned out by the sounds of the city around you. It was generally silent, Carmy’s hand on the gear shift. “It’s just up here,” you gesture to the building up the street. “Just take a right.” He does, obeying your action, pulling up in front of a 3-floored walk-up. “Thanks,” you grab your backpack by your feet, opening the door and giving him a small look before stepping out. “Hey, listen,” you start. His eyes are dark, sunken, tired. He’s wearing his usual wool jacket around a cozy navy blue sweater. “I was working on something before work this morning. A… a dish. Can I show you really quick? And you can tell me what you think?” He looked at the time on his phone, and then up at you. Baby blue eyes, peering from under thick lashes. “Sure, chef,” he says quietly as he puts his car in park and unbuckles the seatbelt. 

When you walk him up to your apartment, he’s endeared. You let him in, and your place smells of vanilla candles and laundry, from the load you’d done before work earlier that day. “Sorry about the mess,” you gestured to small pile of plates and spoons in the sink, and the aforementioned unfolded laundry on the couch. “You’d lose your mind if you saw my place if you think this is mess,” he laughed, pushing a hand through his soft golden hair. Your own coat comes off as you make your way into the kitchen, and he has to stop himself from staring. Your tight jeans fit your body perfectly, white t-shirt coming up over your hips only enough for him to see a dark tattoo on the back of your hip. You poured him a cup of cold water and put it in front of him, before firing up the burner on your stove and putting a stainless steel pan on the orange-blue flame. “Make yourself at home.”

He wandered around your apartment a bit, peering into your bedroom. Soft white bed, soft sheets, big fluffed pillows. An open window, letting a chilly breeze in, curtains slightly swaying with the night air. It reminds him of her, her soft sheets, big eyes, the nights he slept next to Claire and kissed her supple cheeks and pink lips. She was like this too; eager, clean, happy, simple. Easy to be with, and easy to like. You’d given off a similar energy the same day you walked into the restaurant on your first day, and you had reminded him of her. Kind eyes, warm presence, but with a different demeanour that chefs almost always had. A jaggedness, he thought. 

The sound of the plates being put on your small kitchen table snapped him out of his daydreams, as you held out a fork for him. “It’s a, uh, mango custard, bit of toasted cardamom and coconut cream in there, and, um, a coconut macaroon with a homemade chutney.” He raises his eyebrows at the dish before him, plated beautifully, and takes a small bite of each component. You seem to wait for hours as he takes his time, feeling every ingredient on his tongue before setting down his fork on the small white plate. “It’s tremendous, chef,” he says quietly, wiping the corner of his mouth. “Almost perfect. Could use maybe an acid, it’s a little sweet, but, wow,” he looks up at you to see your wide eyes, excited at his answer. This was, essentially, the highest praise from Carmy you could get. “Thank you,” you say quietly, watching as he takes another forkful of the dessert. 

“What’s the tattoo on your hip?” he asks, pointing at the right side of your body, where your shirt had ridden up before. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since he caught a glimpse. “Oh, um,” your cheeks turned a soft shade of red, standing up to lift up your shirt and show him. “It’s, uh, a snake. It goes down my leg too,” you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to show him a bit more of the ink, further exposing the thin strap of the black thong you had on. “Got it a long time ago, in school. Just wanted to feel cool I guess.” He stands up, slowly, coming to lightly pin you against the counter. It’s safe, it’s easy, and suddenly it feels so fucking right to have him here under the dim kitchen light. “Can I see the rest of it?”

All bets are off, then. Your jeans are pooled around your ankles in a second as he’s feverishly kissing your lips, hands everywhere, his calloused palms against your soft ass. His sweater is off, along with his signature white tee, showing off the glistening gold chain against his bare chest. You’ve managed to push his jeans down just enough to slide a hand into his waist band, eliciting a soft, breathy moan from him into your mouth.

When you stumble back into your bedroom, it’s all a blur. It’s hot skin against hot skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your neck as his hands work their way in between your wet folds. They’re so gentle, yet he knows what he’s doing, so the slow circles on your clit as he lets himself rut against you are making you unbelievably wet for him. “I want you so fucking badly,” he pants into your ear, letting a finger easily plunge into you as you open your legs wider for him. “Is this a good idea, Carmy?” you let your fingers thread through his hair, allowing him to look up at you. His usual baby blues were dark again, lustful and wanton. “No,” he says matter-of-factly, but the smirk on his lips is so unbelievable, a cruel man above you. “Should we do it anyways?” You ask, your own smile playing on the corners of your mouth, allowing your hips to rut against his fingers, fucking yourself to feel more of him. He takes a large hand to your breast, letting it slide up, thumb slipping onto your lower lip and into your mouth. “Yeah… yeah, of course we fucking should.”

It’s so easy with him, which is what makes it so hard. He knows right where to kiss, where to touch, where to love on your body. He knows to take his hands to your sides, pushing you into the mattress as he laps at your clit and kisses your inner thighs, looking up and watching you take your own tits in your hands, squeezing them together, looking down at him with such need. He knows to slide up between your legs, and to cradle your neck in his hand, his thick cock plunging into you and making you weak, making his thumb wet with his own spit and bringing you to your orgasm, spasming around him, moaning his name into his mouth like a prayer. It doesn’t take much longer after that for him to spill inside of you, warm and deep, lips locked around his as you helped him ride his orgasm out. And it feels right, and real, when he lays next to you and kisses your chest and arms before falling into a deep sleep, your soft comforter over his chest. It all feels so fucking right, that first time.

But the next morning, all you have is an empty bed. And it doesn’t feel right anymore.

[sidecharactersdomatter]

Thoughts I had during TGCF S2 Ep 12

Last Ep of S2 let’s do this!

Previously on TGCF…

-All wells that ends on the Fang Xin mystery

-“Just focus on doing what you want to do” best life advice ever

-Qingxuan really went, “They seem to be very good friends”

-He blushed!

-They laughed!

-No he will not while the laundry’s running

-That one guy is eavesdropping outside the palace

-They cannot just leave us on a cliffhanger like that!

-Dang no one should slander Hua Cheng shame on them

-Another facepalm!

-It was 3 days?!!!

-That one god got frightened once he saw FX covered in blood, and meanwhile Mu Qing just smirked

-The temple massaging was a dead sign

-More Hua Cheng Slander

-Mu Qing’s opinion

-I really love the music that was played from S1 EP 4

-Pei Ming was responsible for this month’s security

-I wonder why Prosecutor Pei Ming left his guard down?

-Mu Qing’s smirk

-Xianle won’t be banished!

-That was it, the security was getting tighter

-Ugh the Xie Lian slander

-Meanwhile, in Jun Wu’s study…

-That was a lot of paused frames to transition from the recap of eps 7-11

-He’ll probably try to reason with Lang Qianqiu

-That’s what we’d like to know and the answer’s been given by Jun Wu

-Instrumental Bu San seems to be Jun Wu’s main theme

-Jun Wu had a spy… or did he?

-There’s a mole in Heaven

-He’s tightening the security because of Hua Cheng

-He switched from calling him San Lang to Hua Cheng!

-There’s security tape outside his palace

-Xianle’s heyday in his childhood!

-His mother

-The nostalgia’s made him wistful 

-Oh he’s running now

-Qi Rong and Qianqiu’s words are ringing in his mind

-He’s picked up speed

-His breakdown!

-He jumped!!!

-So that’s how he gets down to mortal realm!!!

-That graceful landing

-It’s autumn

-So many young disciples

-HE WAS SO YOUNG AND INNOCENT!!!!!!!!

-XL’s mother is a huge inspiration to the many parents of my OCs

-It was a flashback 800 years ago!

-His sword

-HIs robe is gonna need a quick stitch up!

-It took him all day

-Literally those chipmunk squirrel hybrids

Squirrel 1: Well they were right here a second ago, and now they’re gone!

Stuffed! Squirrel 2: Yeah, that’s pretty weird huh?

Squirrel 1: So you’re telling me you didn’t eat ‘em, and you have NO IDEA WHERE THEY ARE!

Squirrel 2: Uh-uh

*Xie Lian Enters and both Squirrels book it, the 2nd squirrel spits out the nuts*

Squirrel 1: AAAAAH!!! Run away!  I knew you ate them!

This dialogue was from Brother Bear, I really felt like including it in the reaction when. I saw both squirrels and I prolly don’t have plans to watch said movie right now

-It’s a dilapidated temple

-The place is in ruins

-A well!

-The animators really deserve a raise for animating XL entering the well

-A secret entrance!

-It’s the tunnels of lake Laogai in Book 2 earth

-He can firebend!!!

-It’s the star map ceiling from Wan Shi Tong’s library, I really love spotting all the Last Airbender references

-The tombs, *gasps* they’re his parents’ tombs!

-He has been through a lot

-This is similar to the altars at my relatives’ homes

-That noise!

-It sounds like crying

-Baby Guzi!!!

-Oh no and you’re not supposed to shake and shout and children!

-Did anyone else get chills when the weird music played when he looked into the tomb of dust?

-Oh no!

-The statue moved and Qi Rong’s leitmotif

-That was close!!!

-His mask and royal robes

-Baby Guzi!

-His father!

-He possed Guzi’s Dad

-Nobody else rescued the child when they fled Qi Rong’s domain?!?!

-Damn

-His eyes are turning red!

-Masochist

-Worst family reunion I’ve seen

-And you’re not supposed to traumatize children

-Baby Guzi’s in tears!

-Those words still stung

-The flashbacks!

-Ban Yue’s voice!

-Young Lang Qianqiu!

-An Le!

-Recapping Seasons 1 & 2

-His shrine!

-Xianle has fallen

-The soldier

-The child he saved

-Move over J Michael Tatum, no offense to his fans really sry

-They cannot jut leave us on a cliffhanger like that!!!

And that was TGCF Season 2! *Casually prepares shrine and starts praying for the short film, eventual movie, and Seasons 3-8*  What really carried this season was Junior Official Xiao Mengyou, Lang Qianqiu’s whole impact, Shi Qingxuan slaying, Jun Wu’s Emperussy, Prosecutor Pei Ming, Yin Yue’s debut, Hua Cheng being the goat all thanks to James Cheek, Fengqing conflict, Feng Xin being the himbo, Lucien Dodge eating it up as Mu Qing, Qi Rong being this season’s freak, Guzi being Babey, and Howard Wang eating it up as Xie Lian especially in Epsilon 6 and 10-12.  That was all for this summer’s reactions.  I am going to be bust this fall with sketching and mainly writing after class so, See you next time! The Scrap Immortal and the Avatar is set to start in January 2025!

[crystalromana]

FX: THE DOCTOR IS UNSPOOLING TAPE Doctor: Tape is amazing. Things just linger on it. The ghosts of old words. Even the mould that grows on them is facinating Jack: I’ve missed you FX: THE DOCTOR FITS THE TAPE Doctor: Let’s put you back in place after all these years. Tape was the first way to lie with sound. You can’t edit a wax cylinder. You can’t fiddle with shellac. But tape- you just need a keen eye and a razor blade. FX: THE DOCTOR THREADS IT AROUND THE HEADS Jack: Things have been hard without you. Doctor: One cut and you can separate two truthes and make a new one. Get it right, there’s not even a flutter. Jack: I know you can’t always turn up. Doctor: I knew a woman who could edit with a razor blade clenched in her teeth. She’d bite down (snaps teeth) and just like that she could take out a false note, or an awkward pause. (snaps teeth again) Jack: Not everything’s a Dalek invasion. But Still. Would have been nice to see you. Doctor: Not played for 20 years, but its secrets are intact. Jack: You turn up for a psychic cloud. But there are times… I don’t know how I got through them without you. AN AWKWARD PAUSE Doctor: Yeah. Let’s see what’s on here FX: HE PRESSES PLAY. KERSHUNK AS TAPE HEADS SPIN IN PLACE.

-Torchwood: Absent Friends

[melit0n]

Part three to the Sleep Token FX post. Some of these I've picked up on my own, and others have been pointed out to me by @reveries-of-my-mind and @moonchild-in-blue through their reblogs of my original post about Vore. A lot of these FX bits are more obvious, so I decided to just put TMBTE in one post.

Part three includes: Take Me Back To Eden

Part One -> One, Two, Jaws and The Way That You Were

Part Two -> Sundowning and This Place Will Become Your Tomb

+ If I've missed something, feel to add your own thoughts!

Note- some of these are FX, others are sound mixing and music bits I wanted to mention. Any song you don't see mentioned are songs that I couldn't find anything to pull out of them. Plus, reminder; these are my interpretations, I'm sorry if you can't hear what I hear, or you think something different.

Chokehold

- Lots and lots of digital, glitchy FX which sets the mood for the album. This is also repeated throughout all the songs in the album, which works with their algorithm-esc, robotic theme (both lyrically and musically) in their songs for this one.

The Summoning

- Unfortunately, everyone's favourite jazz-metal amalgamation doesn't have any other SFX notes other than carrying on Chokehold's glitchy FX motifs.

Aqua Regia

- Jazz café ambience shown throughout the song, also, every single instrument other than the main paino is echoed and or muffled.

+ Fun fact! Aqua Regia is Latin for Royal Water. It's a concentrated solution of Hydrochloric and nitric acids, and is one of the only acids that can dissolve Gold; it's used in the jewelry trade to test the purity of Gold. Not a clue what Vessel is trying to get across with that, but his obsession with chemistry and biology motifs strike again.

Granite

- The screetch of the guitar chord at 2:32, right before the breakdown, sounds almost like a car hitting the breaks and skidding. Works well with Granite's theme of car crashes. You can almost imagine someone having an argument in the car, and the screetch is a result of things going a bit too far.

Vore

- Like I said in my original post, in the beginning (first fifteen seconds), along with the scratchy guitar chord, there are chewing and swallowing sounds. The song is quite literally from the point of view of being stuck in the throat of a God.

- At 3:23 to 3:30, there are bird noises similar to the ones at the start of TMBTE! They're incredibly subtle, but they're there. If you can't pinpoint it, there's a squeaking noise at 3:27, which is just a bird tweeting!

Rain

- From 3:55 to the end of the song, there's rain, which is obviously very fitting. Not specifically rain tapping on a rooftop, but more so rain pouring down a gutter, at least to me.

Take Me Back To Eden

- From 0:00 to 0:40, there's echoed animal noises, like if you were to stand in the middle of a rainforest. The song starts of in absolute silence, only broken by nature; not a human made noise to be heard. It's quite literally Eden. These sounds are there throughout the song, they just get much harder to hear the longer Vessel sings and the more instruments they later on top of eachother.

- At 1:42, there's either a Lion's or a Tiger's roar.

- From 3:10-3:16, there's the sound of thunder.

- A lot of the jingles you hear in The Summoning are repeated here! E.g; 3:40 and, more clearly, at 4:50 and 7:50.

- The lyrics "we were tangled up like branches in a flood; it was no accident" are direct refrences to the lyrics in Chokehold.

Euclid

- The song is 5 minutes and 13 seconds long, but Vessel only starts singing at the 13 second mark. The first lyric? "Just run it back, give me five whole minutes". We, as the listener give him five whole minutes to say what he's gotta say. Further, the song ends on the exact same piano chord that it begins with; the song, in of itself, is a loop. Anytime you play Euclid on loop, you are running it back and giving him five whole minutes. One of the reasons Euclid is my favourite (next to Aqua Regia) for this album.

- The lyrics "the night belongs to you" and "this bough is broken through" are lyrical refrences to The Nigh Does not Belong to God from Sundowning and When The Bough Breaks from One. The oldest album, and ST's first produced album.

- From 4:02 to the end of the song, a verse from The Night Does Not Belong To God is played. It completes the produced album trilogy, and, with the five stages of grief, allows for acceptance and healing. Euclid not only loops itself, but loops the three albums together. Sundowning, TPWBYT and TMBTE are an endless loop that can and will be played as many times as needed for Vessel, for you, as the listener, to heal. To accept change. To realise there's more than denial, anger bargaining and depression. And I think that, in of itself, is beautiful.

---------

Album Notes: Sleep Token really put their whole soul into this album huh. By far, it's the one that uses SFX the most, and rounds out Sleep Token's own genre as a whole. We see snippets of older songs used throughout the album, both lyrical refrences and actual chunks of old songs taken out and placed within other ones. 10/10, would cry to again.

Thank you for reading through all my thoughts and feelings, whoever you are. Remember, the night belongs to you; worship <3.

[mock-arts]

Vagueblogging a little, but this sucks actually. Apologies for my disorganized thoughts. I’m not much of a writer.

I get that they were hurting, but I feel like they didn’t consider the people they collaborated with at all. I only lost one piece, but I know I’m not the only one. I had a podficcer tell me they were having panic attacks not knowing if they’d be asked to take down all their work podficcing this author, following this.

Like a heads up at least :/

I’ve been taking a few days to process this since I’ve had a lot else going on. Since I saw this, I have gotten a massage, watered my plants, touched some grass, pondered over my feelings a few separate times. It still sucks.

I love the Big Bang format, but I do feel like you encounter an attitude that the author’s work is the only component that matters sometimes.

I’ve had a lot of my art orphaned as authors pull their bang fics down, or fail to produce them at all — which, you know, is their right. My art was also posted separately on ao3 typically, and I don’t consider the effort wasted, because I love the process of collaboration, and I think it pushes me to make art in ways I wouldn’t think of myself.

But this is the first time I’ve had an author pull down something that, frankly, they were pretty minimally involved in. It contained a paragraph of their work, read by a podficcer, along with some animation (my first real go at animation in 10ish years! It was only six frames), some sound fx, etc.

I didn’t think we were pals or anything. I only worked with them the once, and I’m always cautious of putting an emotional burden on people that are getting a lot of attention, positive and negative, by acting like we’re friends. But I did enjoy working with them and thought there was some level of mutual respect as creators.

This piece is still on tumblr, and me and the other collaborators still have it where it was hosted from to post to ao3, but this was not a great thing to wake up to last week. It’s not that I was really attached to this piece, or even to the comments on the piece. For me it’s more the… social aspect I guess? Not so for everyone, I’ve had a few people tell me that this makes them want to never use the collaboration feature on ao3, if somebody could just hit “delete all” and never even consider the effect on the other co-authors. I love collaborating, and I don’t think I would do anything differently than what I did in the future.

It’s just still a little hurtful.

That all said, I hope they’re okay, or on the way to being okay.