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#so i drew this on their receipt
t4tav · 7 months
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throwaway-settings · 6 days
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NEW IRIS DRAWING JUST DROPPED SHES BLACK NOW WAHOO
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deargravity · 7 months
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it’s been one of those weeks
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transmutationisms · 24 days
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Art raffle for Mohammed: prints by @horreurscopes!
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Alex (horreurscopes) is very generously offering these 8 gorgeous original prints to benefit Mohammed Iwais's gofundme campaign!
Mohammed @mohdiwais lives with his family in Gaza, where they have now endured 8 displacements since October 7. As of writing this (29 Aug.), his family has been separated in their most recent displacement, and half of them are sleeping on the streets. Mohammed is the provider for his siblings and their children, and his family also has injured and sick members. He wants to evacuate his most vulnerable family members as soon as possible; in the meantime, necessities like food and medicine are exorbitantly expensive in Gaza right now. verified by @/90-ghost and more details about the family here.
Raffle entries are 150 SEK (approx. $15 USD) each. You can enter as many times as you like, and the raffle will close at midnight PDT on 12 September (that's two weeks to enter!).
All of these prints can be shipped internationally.
To enter, submit proof of your donation (with date, amount, and campaign name visible) to this google form; if you have any issues you can email proof to [email protected] instead.
Mohammed's Gofundme link; donate now!
More details and additional photos of the prints available under the cut:
The raffle will close at end of day (midnight PDT, UTC -7) on 12 September.
I will then randomly draw 8 winners, and you'll choose which print you want. Winners choose in the order I drew them, so not all winners will be able to choose from all three designs.
I'll contact winners by your method of choice (tumblr url or email address); make sure you respond within 48 hours, or you forfeit your win and I'll have to re-draw!
If you have any problems with the submission form, you can also email entries to [email protected]. Make sure all donation receipts have the donation amount, date, and campaign name visible. You can email them as attachments or inline images.
Sizes vary by design, but each is a few inches larger than standard US letter size. Measurements are shown in the first set of photos :-)
Additional photos:
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sanguinifex · 2 years
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Other people getting drunk: call their exes, smash stuff
Me getting drunk: eats too many bar snacks, draws hearts and flowers on the bar receipt, gives overly detailed tasting notes on whatever I was drinking
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cold-fins · 5 months
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THERE IS A THERIAN AT MY WORK CURRENTLY AND I AM LOOS9NG MY FUCKING MIIIIND /POS
I'm a receptionist at a hair salon and they walked in wearing a FOX TAIL and so since we're like. In public in a redneck town I drew a theta delta on a piece of receipt paper with a question mark next to it and held it up, they SMILED AND NODDED guys I wanna talk to them SO FUCKING BAD BUT I CANTTTTTTT AHHHHH THEY LOOK SO COOL I WANNA CHAT I JUST WANNA CHAT BUT I CANT WITHOUT IT LOOKING WEIRD TO MY COWORKERS
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gubsbuubs · 3 months
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Sunshine Brews
Pairing: MGG x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~ 3K
Warnings: none just pure fluff
Summary: Just a little meet-cute with MGG and a barista where they realize they have something in common, a necklace.
A/N: I don’t usually write fluff but I had this cute idea. Let me know if you want a series out of this! Hope you all enjoy it!
Any and all comments are appreciated - English is not my first language. Requests are open 🍒
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"Blueberry muffin and one caramel latte, extra shot!" Y/N called out to her coworker over the noise of the espresso machine. The cozy coffee shop felt warm and inviting, with the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. Only a few patrons were scattered around, enjoying their drinks and pastries. It was slow at the moment, with the usual larger queue reduced to just two customers in line—Mary, the regular she was tending, and a man who waited after her.
"Here's your receipt, have a great day!" She extended her arm with a smile, as Mary thanked her and took it before finding a seat by the window.
The movement on the other side of the counter drew Y/N's attention to the new customer. As he appeared from behind Mary, he moved closer to place his order. Y/N's eyes lifted from where Mary had been standing, her gaze now caught by a tall man with a mop of tousled curls framing his face.
He wore a fun patterned shirt, the colors vibrant against the light filtering through the café windows. A small green neck scarf added a touch of flair, giving him a stylish and approachable vibe.
His eyes moved from the lettering and small drawings on the black chalkboard to meet the girl behind the register. She held a big smile, and he couldn't help but notice how it lit up her eyes, "Welcome to Sunshine Brews! What can I get for you today?"
"Good afternoon," he replied, his voice soft. "How are you doing..." He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the counter, as he squinted his eyes, clearly trying to read the tag placed on the right side of her chest. "...John?" His brows furrowed in confusion. He didn't want to assume anything, recognizing that names could be diverse, but his uncertainty was evident in his expression.
Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at his confused look. "Oh, that's not my name. Easy mistake, though! I'm covering for a friend named John today." She tapped her nametag lightly.
"He had a little issue, so someone…" She motioned to herself dramatically, exaggerating her words, "had to come in and save the day."
He chuckled at her theatrics. "What a good Samaritan we have here today," he teased lightly "Shouldn't you be sainted for your heroic deeds?"
She playfully shook her head, "You know… sometimes I think I should be,"
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter, his expression genuinely curious. "And what would your saintly name be?"
She tilted her head slightly back, considering his question for a moment. Then, with a slight raise of her eyebrows, she declared, holding her finger up in the air, " How about Saint Y/N of the Extra Shifts"
"Saint Y/N of the Extra Shifts," he repeated thoughtfully. "I can already see the halo glowing faintly above your head."
"Well, someone had to do it, or you wouldn't have your coffee. Aren't you glad it was me?" She teased.
"Absolutely, Saint Y/N,"
"Well, I know you didn't come here to put up with my stupid jokes, so what can I get you started with?" Y/N quipped.
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I loved that stupid joke," his gaze was warm as he met her eyes. "I'm glad your friend John didn't make it, because I'm really enjoying our conversation."
"Yeah, but good conversation won't fill your stomach,"
"You're so wise," he added in a sarcastic tone before glancing at the menu thoughtfully. "I think I'll go with a latte and..." He paused, his gaze flicking back up to meet hers. "Do you have any recommendations for a light bite? Something to tide me over until dinner?"
Y/N nodded "Our avocado toast is a popular choice," she suggested, gesturing towards the menu board. "Or we have fresh pastries if you're in the mood for something sweet."
"Avocado toast sounds perfect,"
"Coming right up," Y/N replied cheerfully. "That'll be eight dollars and fifty cents. And what's the name for the order?"
"Matthew," he said, handing her a ten-dollar bill. "Keep the change."
"Well, thank you," she said, extending her arm across the counter to hand him the receipt. Then she turned to her coworker, who was tasked with making the orders. "Hey, can you get me a latte and avocado toast?"
Glancing around the relatively empty café, Matthew´s eyes fell on a couple of stools just a few steps away from the counter. He pondered for a moment, he was enjoying the conversation with Y/N, and if he sat at a table, even one nearby, he wouldn't be able to continue their chat as easily. Noticing how there was no movement and he was the latest customer, he decided to sit by the counter, keeping the option open for more interaction.
Y/N placed some napkins and a sugar jar in front of him. "Here you go, just in case," she said with a friendly smile.
"Seems to be slow at the moment," he remarked casually, his eyes flicking back to her.
"Well, lucky for you, it means I have all the time to entertain you " she teased, tapping her fingers against the counter.
"Is that part of the saintly services you offer? Entertainment along with the coffee?"
Y/N chuckled, nodding with mock seriousness. "Oh, absolutely," she replied, matching his playful tone. "But you know, entertainment comes with an extra charge. Saintly services aren't free, you know."
Matthew feigned surprise, his eyes widening in mock indignation, leaning back slightly. "What's the going rate for entertainment these days? Should I be worried about breaking the bank?"
Y/N leaned closer. "Since you're new here, I'll make you an offer," she whispered conspiratorially. "Today's entertainment will be on the house if you promise to come back for more."
Matthew's expression shifted in contemplation as he pretended to consider her offer. He scratched his chin lightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, Saint Y/N, you're making it hard to refuse," he teased, his voice low and playful.
After a brief pause, he extended his pinky finger toward hers. "Alright, deal. I promise to come back,"
The pinky promise sealed the deal, and for a heartbeat longer than expected, their fingers intertwined. Y/N felt a rush of warmth as Matthew's gaze locked onto hers, their faces closer than they should be as they both leaned on either side of the counter.
"You better keep that promise now,"
Just then, Y/N's coworker arrived at the counter with his order in hand "Good afternoon," she said, breaking the brief silence. "One latte and avocado toast for Matthew."
"That's me," he replied with a nod, his attention momentarily on the girl as she set the food down in front of him. "Thank you." As the coworker walked away, Matthew's eyes shifted back to Y/N that had stepped back slightly to give room for her friend.
As he bit down on the toast, Matthew's gaze fixated on Y/N and he couldn't help but notice the faint blush that adorned her cheeks.
Unaware of his lingering gaze, Y/N observed the street outside while she ran her fingers through her hair with a casual grace. She swept it up momentarily before letting it fall behind her shoulders, and Matthew's eyes never left her, observing each movement with a keen interest.
His gaze lowered from her cheeks to her lips, tracing the delicate curve of her jawline down to her now exposed neck. It was then that the soft ambient light caught the glimmer of a pendant she wore, casting a gentle glow upon it.
Matthew's breath caught slightly as he noticed, recognizing it in an instant. His surprise was palpable. "Wait a minute," Matthew choked out, his mouth half full of avocado toast.
"Wha…. What?" Y/N asked, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor.
Matthew lifted a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to wait as he swallowed. His eyes were wide with excitement as he pointed at her. "You're wearing my necklace," he finally exclaimed.
Her hand instinctively went to the delicate pendant around her neck, feeling its familiar weight. "I'm sorry, what?"
"It's my necklace," he repeated, a smile spreading across his face as he pointed at it.
Y/N furrowed her brows. "I think you might be confused," she stated calmly but firmly. "My nephew gave this to me as a present, so it's not yours... I'm pretty sure it's mine."
Matthew chuckled softly, "That's not what I meant..." He trailed off, leaning back slightly on the stool as he took a sip of his latte.
Y/N tilted her head slightly, a puzzled expression crossing her features. "I'm so confused right now," she admitted.
"You have no idea, do you?" he said, his smile growing wider.
She shook her head no , feeling a mix of amusement and frustration. "Well, then please enlighten me," she replied, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
Matthew set the cup down with a soft clink, leaning forward slightly. His hand moved the scarf around his neck, and with a subtle movement, a small golden chain appeared from under it. His fingers reached inside his shirt, pulling out a pendant identical to Y/N's, hanging from the necklace.
"What the..." was all Y/N could mutter as she lounged forward, holding her upside-down necklace side by side with his. "I had no idea that's what you meant. My nephew talks about him all the time, but I never realized he was so popular," she said, her voice filled with wonder.
Matthew grinned, clearly enjoying her reaction. "It's always surprising to see where that little guy pops up."
"It's the first time I've met someone who knows about this book. It's such a cool coincidence." With a gentle release, Y/N let go of his necklace, but she remained there, her arms resting on the counter.
"Oh, I don't just know it, I really know it," he said with a playful smirk.
She raised an eyebrow, "Have you read it a lot or something?" she asked, "Do you also have a small child that begs for the same story every time?"
Matthew shook his head in amusement, leaning down for another bite of his avocado toast. "No," he replied, a chuckle escaping as he chewed.
"So…. just a grown man enjoying children's literature, then?" she quipped. "Not weird at all." she laughed
As Matthew swallowed, a small burst of air escaped through his nostrils, causing a soft laugh. It was incredibly funny how unaware she was of the punchline that was about to be delivered. "Y/N," he said once his mouth was clear, "I wrote the book."
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her playful grin faltering for a moment as she processed his words. "Wait, what?"
He was clearly enjoying her flabbergasted expression. "You heard me," he said with a smile.
It was clear that the revelation had caught her off guard, her eyes were wide and her mouth was slightly agape. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies,"
Her mouth snapped shut, and her cheeks flushed faintly as she processed the information. "You're… You´re joking, right?" She managed to stammer.
"Do I look like I'm joking?" He replied, his tone playful yet somewhat serious. He continued to watch her, admiring the way her expression shifted from shock to disbelief to realization.
"Matthew?" she asked as her mind connected the dots and her mouth formed a small 'O' shape. "As in Matthew Gray Gubler?"
"The one and only." He laughed, leaning in closer, his voice quieter. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't announce it to the whole café."
Her cheeks flushed once more as she galanced around, but no one seemed to be paying attention to their conversation. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, realizing her faux pas. "You're right, I shouldn't have reacted like that. Sorry."
He, in turn, smiled at her apologetic demeanor. "No worries," he replied, before taking the final bite of his toast. "This was so good," he said pointing at it.
Y/N completely disregarded his compliment. "Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing," she continued, starting to ramble. "I mean, no offense; I should've recognized you. I don't know what I was thinking. I really am sorry for not recognizing you."
He swallowed the bite, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched her struggle with her embarrassment. "Why are you apologizing?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.
Y/N shifted uncomfortably, her hands fidgeting on the countertop. "Well, because you're like a celebrity," she began, stumbling over her words. "I mean, I haven't seen your face on TV in a while, but I should've recognized it." She paused, searching for the right words.
"You really don't need to apologize," he assured her, his voice soft and reassuring as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the countertop, his eyes locked with hers "Believe it or not I enjoyed being just a regular person. It's refreshing to not be recognized every now and then."
She let out a soft exhale, her embarrassment beginning to subside. "I never thought about it that way," she admitted, her hands finally stilling on the countertop.
"Most people think being recognized all the time is a perk," he mused, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "But sometimes, it's nice to just blend in and be treated like everyone else."
Y/N nodded thoughtfully, a small smile forming on her lips. "I can imagine," she replied softly.
"So, you mentioned your nephew earlier, what´s his name?"
"Oh, right," she chuckled softly. "His name is Ethan. Adorable little guy," she said with a warm smile on her face.
"How old is Ethan?" he inquired, genuinely interested.
"He just turned nine," Her eyes sparkled with affection as she spoke of her nephew. "He's such a sweet kid. Always full of imagination." Her voice softened with fondness, "You should see him; he's convinced Rumple Buttercup is real and has adventures all around town. Sometimes I catch him drawing pictures of Rumple saving the day in his notebook." A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "He's got quite the imagination, that one…" She paused, "Sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I?"
"No… No, pelase, continue." He took one more sip of his coffee before adding, "He sounds like quite a young artist."
"He really is," Y/N agreed. "He's always drawing something, whether it's Rumple or his own little creations. I've lost track of the number of drawings he's left around the house."
"You know," he began, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret, "I'm actually in town for a book signing at the library tomorrow." his voice even quieter as he added, "I'll be dressed as Rumple Buttercup and everything."
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, a delighted smile spreading across her face. "No way, really?" She exclaimed softly.
"Really," he affirmed with a grin.
"Oh my god, we have to go," Y/N blurted out, her enthusiasm bubbling over. "Ethan would be over the moon!"
"Unfortunately, it's sold out," he admitted, his tone apologetic.
Her face fell, disappointment washing over. "Oh no…"
Before she could dwell on the disappointment, Matthew bursted into laughter. "But I might know someone who could get you in… This guuuuuuy" he said, playfully pointing to himself and breaking into a little dance.
Her disappointment quickly melted away as she watched Matthew's playful antics. She leaned against the counter, a wide smile spreading across her face as she giggled at his silly dance moves.
"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her laughter still bubbling under the surface.
Matthew nodded, his expression earnest and determined. "Dead serious. I can get you invitations," he affirmed.
"You're too much!" Y/N exclaimed with a playful shake of her head, still grinning from ear to ear.
Matthew chuckled softly. "Well, what can I say? I aim to please,"
She reached across the counter, intending to express her gratitude with a light touch on his arm. "I can't thank you enough for this," she said sincerely, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.
Matthew smiled warmly as he looked into Y/N's eyes, his hand gently resting on hers "I'm the one who should be thankful," he began, "I got to enjoy this amazing toast with a delicious latte, just like a regular person. And as promised, I got some great company by a saint," he added with a playful wink, "and for free, may I add."
"Well, you did promise you would come back, so next time it's not for free,"
"Ah, you got me there," he admitted, feigning defeat. "I guess I did promise… And I always keep my promises."
"Good to know you're a man of your word," she replied, a playful smile dancing on her lips.
Matthew nodded, feeling a flutter of nervousness in his chest. He cleared his throat gently, watching as Y/N straightened up, her warmth lingering on his arm as she withdrew. Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he glanced up at her with a hesitant smile.
"You should… you know… give me your number... for the invites, I mean," he said, his voice slightly uncertain.
Y/N met his gaze with a warm smile. "Sure," she replied softly, reaching for her phone on the counter. After a moment of tapping on the screen, she handed it to him. "Here you go."
Matthew chuckled softly to himself. "Saint Y/N," he remarked as he saw the saved number, "I should have seen this one coming."
"Well, it's so you know it's me," she replied playfully.
Matthew grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket. "I still can't believe I had the pleasure of meeting a saint over avocado toast,"
She chuckled, leaning slightly against the counter. "Aren't you glad John couldn't make it today?" she teased.
Matthew raised an eyebrow playfully. "Really glad," he replied "I mean, John's is probably a great guy and all, but I doubt Sunshine Brews has the budget for two saints… So it looks like I lucked out today."
"Well, consider it a stroke of luck for both of us then," she quipped.
The gentle dinging of the bell at the top of the front door chimed, signaling the entry of a new customer. Y/N glanced up from the counter just in time to see a young woman step inside, followed closely by a man with a briefcase slung over his shoulder. Before she could even greet the first arrivals, another group of friends strolled in, causing the bell to ring again in quick succession.
Matthew chuckled softly at the increasing activity in the café. "It looks like it's getting busy," he remarked.
"Rush hour," she confirmed, her gaze briefly flicking to the clock mounted on the wall.
"I should probably go," Matthew said regretfully, rising from his stool. "I've definitely taken up a pretty considerable amount of your time."
"I'm glad you did," she said sincerely.
"I will text you later... about the … invites, I mean," he trailed off, clearly a bit flustered by his own suggestion.
Y/N couldn't help but laugh softly at his flustered response. "Bye, Matthew,"
"Bye, Y/N," Matthew replied with a smile, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned towards the door. "See you and Ethan tomorrow," he added, waving slightly as he exited.
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thebearer · 1 year
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fall into me |carmen berzatto x reader|
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prompt: part 2 of follow me. your date with carmen.
contains: fluff. anxious carmen. mentions of mikey. but all fluff :)
Carmen was sure he was going to be sick. A new kind of sickness, where his stomach felt like it was going to fall out of his mouth and ass at the same time. He changed his outfit six times, slacks and a tie felt too formal. Jeans felt out of the question, and while the very cool guy on TikTok swore that slacks and t-shirts were in this season… Carmen couldn’t bring himself to wear it. 
So he wore his slacks, good shoes he still had from pretentious meetings in the restaurant, and his good button down, a steely type blue- the saleswoman told him it really complimented his eyes, then wrote her number on his receipt. Of course, Carmen didn’t call it. He’d never allow himself the simple pleasures like that. 
Carmen smoked the whole way to the restaurant, a bottle of cologne in his pocket, which he doused himself in on the corner, popping a mint. He saw you standing there, awkwardly on your phone by the light pole, head ducked to your screen in your black, silk, cowl neck dress. Carmen could feel his heart jump at the sight of you, cursing while he started to jog in the still new shoes. 
“Hey, shit, sorry.” Carmen apologized, his chest tightening and burning as he slowed in front of you. “I-I couldn’t find my phone.” Definitely not because I tried on a million different outfits and had a panic attack.
“Ah, so that’s why you didn’t text me back. Thought you ghosted me at your own restaurant.” You quipped, his heart plummeting, face falling with it. You grinned, shoving your phone in your tiny purse. “‘M fucking with you, Carm. I just got here.” 
“Oh,” Carmen sighed. “Yeah, good. That-That’s good. Do you want to go in?” 
“Sure.” You giggled. “After you, Chef.” 
“C’mon.” Carmen laughed lightly, shaking his head, hoping it would hide his burning cheeks. You were ahead of him, reaching for the door, his heart skipping when he saw it. “I got it!” 
You drew your hand back, looking at him carefully. The blush in his cheeks spread down to his neck. “I-I got it, let me get it.” Carmen nodded, pulling the handle. You glided past him, his hand ghosting on the small of your back, leaving you shuddering under his touch. It was casual, you doubted he even knew he did it, just a slight usher while he followed you in. 
“It’s so different being here at night.” You whispered to him, your arm brushing his while you walked to the hostess station. 
Carmen nodded. “I know, it’s, uh, it’s nice to see it like this, ya know?” He muttered. “See it from a customer’s perspective.” 
“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” You asked, your head tilting to the side softly. “Why we’re kinda doing this?” 
Carmen’s heart fell, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He could feel his own mind racing. Of course, you didn’t think this was a date. Why would you ever want to be on a date with him?
“I mean, yeah, sorta. Here f’you too. To thank you for everything.” Carmen nodded, eyes cutting to yours. Fuck, he knew he needed to look at you, he wanted to look at you, but it was so fuckin’ hard. When you looked so pretty, so effortlessly calm and cool. It made him fluster. 
“C’mon, Carm. You hired me, paid me. And you guys have been so nice. Most places are… horrible. Act like I’m bothering them when they hired me. You’ve got a good place, great staff. I’m glad you wanted me to be a part of it for a while.” You smiled, stepping up to the hostess station.
Carmen could feel his heart squeeze, an uncomfortably tight realization that this would be the last time he saw you. He’d been running numbers all night, seeing where he could take cuts so he could keep you, but even then, you’d be gone for at least another two months since you already took another job. By then, whatever you had here, would be gone. 
“Ah, there you are, the VIP customers for the night.” Richie schmoozed, sliding behind the hostess stand. 
You grinned, Carmen’s eyes downcast making Richie’s jaw tick. “How are you two this evening?”
“Great.” You beamed. “Excited to try this place. I’ve never been here before. Heard it’s the best in Chicago.” You nudged Carmen playfully with your hip, grinning at him. 
He gave you a tight lipped smile, hands by his side, trying to nonchalantly wipe his hands on his slacks. Richie smiled at you, glaring lightly at Carmen. “Well, you heard right, sweetheart. We want your night to be extra special, so we have this booth back here just for the two of you.” 
“Hey, Syd,” Tina muttered, looking up from her plating to see your head pass with Carmen’s curly locks. “They’re here.” 
“Shit, are they?” Sydney turned, looking through the window. “God, Carmen looks like he’s about to pass out.” 
“Fuck, he does, doesn’t he?” Sugar huffed, her hands on her hips. 
Richie caught Sugar’s eye through the window, a flickering glance that told her exactly what she needed to know. “So, I will have the focaccia out for the two of you shortly. Can I start you off with anything to drink?” 
“‘M good.” Carmen muttered, taking the leather bound menu into his hands, knee bouncing under the table. 
You looked a little uncomfortable, eyes cutting to Carmen’s before a moment of hesitation flashed over your face. “Uh, I’ll take a glass of whatever you think would pair best with the meal?” 
“Perfect. I’ll have that out.” Richie smiled, hoping his silent screams at Carmen would be enough for him to catch on. Fak passed, slipping a piece of paper in Richie’s hand. Richie stepped away, reading Sugar’s scribbled writing: “GET CARMEN BACK HERE NOW!!!!” 
“Excuse me, folks,” Richie greeted apologetically, though the two of you weren’t talking. “Carmen, I hate to do this, but I need you just for a second, ok?” 
Carmen nodded, sliding out of the booth without so much as looking at you. Richie fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’ll just be a second. That focaccia and riesling are on the way.” Richie grinned at you, stepping beside Carmen. 
“What’s goin’ on? Did we run out of-” 
“-No, you fuckin’ moron.” Richie huffed, letting the door slam shut. “The fuck is your problem, huh? You’re not even- hey, send that to six with the Cakebread white, ok?- You’re not even looking at her, c’mon, Cousin.” 
Carmen blushed, running a hand through his hair. “What? I-I’m talkin’ to her-” 
“-No, you’re not.” Sugar snapped, rounding the corner. “You look like an ass, Carmy. You’re on a date with her and-” 
“-It’s not a date.” Carmen shook his head, brushing it off. 
Sugar blinked. “You’re on a date with her,” She repeated, her tone firmer- a mom tone she’d adapted since working here that would help with the baby. “And you’re acting like a total-total…” Sugar waved her hands, stuttering over the word. 
“Jagoff.” Neil added, passing through the kitchen for a moment before going out the doors. 
“Thank you! Yes! A total jagoff.” Sugar glared at Carmen. 
“I-I don’t even think she thinks it’s a date-” 
The kitchen erupted in groans, shouting at him irritatedly. “Look at how she’s dressed. If she thought this was a free meal ticket, she wouldn’t wear that. That is a date night dress.” 
“That’s true.” Sydney added. 
Carmen couldn’t help the way his heart flipped with excitement, looking out the window at you, sitting at the table, nursing your wine slowly- alone. 
“Cousin, c’mere,” Richie motioned him, leading him towards the office. “Look, I get you got this whole ‘I deserve nothing good’ doom and gloom attitude, but that right there. That’s good.” Richie jabbed his finger towards the door. “I see you, ok? You guys got that cute little texting thing goin’ on, alright?” 
Carmen stilled. He felt like a teenager again, being teased and tormented by Mikey and Richie about a crush he had. How the fuck did he know about your texting? “Look, if you let her go tonight without even trying, you’re gonna regret it. You only got one chance, cousin, do not miss your chance to blow.” Richie said seriously. 
“Don’t fuckin’ quote Eminem to me right now-” 
“-Alright, alright, but seriously?” Richie nodded into the office, the tiny frame that held Mikey’s note ‘Let it rip!’. Carmen felt his stomach turn, guilt trilling in it. He knew Richie was right and that fact alone made him queasy. “Listen to Mikey, alright? You can have good shit in your life.” 
Carmen looked at the photo, taking a grounding breath, Mikey’s voice ringing loud in his ears. “Let it rip.” Carmen muttered, pushing past the double doors back to you. 
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“Oh, no way!” You laughed. “You don’t have TikTok?” 
“No, no. Don’t have time for it.” Carmen shrugged, sipping his water. 
“Then how do you watch our videos?” You asked, brow raising in question. 
“I click the link you send me and it opens up just on my Google or whatever.” Carmen grinned, shrugging lightly, popping another truffle fry in his mouth. He’d nearly fallen over when you asked for ranch, teasing you lightly. You’d only shrugged, sticking one in your mouth, declaring it would taste better with ranch. You were kidding, of course, it was perfect. 
“Wow.” You smirked, finger tracing around the rim. “You’re missing out. It’s addictive.” 
“Yeah? It’s weird too.” Carmen snorted lightly. 
“Says you! You’re Mr. TikTok Famous and you don’t even know it.” You pushed his arm lightly, trying not to gawk at how firm his biceps were. Sure, you’d definitely seen them while he was working, but… they felt better than they looked. “Should see how you’ve got everyone in a tizzy. Chopping onions and marinating wagyu.” 
Carmen laughed, cheeks reddening at the compliment. “Yeah, those comments were…shocking.” 
“You think?” You cocked your head to the side. “I thought they were pretty normal.” 
“Half of them were asking me to violently punch them.” Carmen laughed, eyes widening at you. 
“Well, can you blame them?” You grinned, leaning in closer. “You got nice hands. Of course, they’re going feral. I knew what I was doing with that shot. Giving the people what they want.” 
Carmen blushed furiously, hoping you couldn’t see under the low light of the restaurant. “Nah, c’mon.” He looked down at his fingers, etched with tattoos. 
“You c’mon.” You grinned, reaching out a little daringly to trace a finger over his veins. You’d blame the wine for your boldness, but Carmen shivered under your touch. “You’ve got hot hands. No wonder they all go so crazy. You’re a pretty chef with good hands.” 
Carmen knew you had to see his blush now, sure his body temperature went up ten degrees, heart beating so bad in his chest he was sure he wasn’t going to make it another course. “Uh,” Carmen laughed, running his free hand over his mouth, hoping to hide some of his grin. He didn’t dare move his hand from his. “Well, thanks, I guess. I, um, I wanna say I think the same.” 
You lifted a brow, biting back a laugh when he stuttered, his eyes widening. Your giggles were infectious to him, a stream of his own nervous laugh spilling out of his throat. “No, I-I meant- fuck, I meant… I, uh, I think you’re pretty.” 
There was a pause, your own teeth pulling in your lip, grinning shyly at him. “Really?” You asked. You felt like you were in junior high again, finding out the boy on the JV team like liked you. It was giddy, the feeling in your chest. Warm, your heart skipping a beat. 
“Yeah.” Carmen nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Beautiful, really.” 
“Well, thank you.” You grinned, hoping to hide your smile behind your own glass of wine. Fak came by, dropping your next course off, a temporary relief for the moment, letting the two of you get yourselves together. 
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“You think he’ll do it?” Sugar asked, pretending to roll silverware while Richie handed them to her. A meaningless job that just so happened to be by the window, so they could see the two of you. 
“I dunno. Could go either way.” Richie sucked in a breath. “He seems to be close, ya know? Think he has it in him to do it, just… fuck, I hope he does.” 
“Me too.” Sugar sighed. “Can you hear what they’re saying? It looks… nice? So that’s gotta be good, right?” 
“Yeah, hopefully…” Richie hummed, squinting to try and make out the words you were whispering to each other. The two of you were pressed together, migrated together as the meal went on until you were huddled, like it was the two of you. 
“I really don’t want you to leave.” Carmen admitted, body pressed to yours, hand in yours in the dim light of the booth. Everyone had left, all the patrons shuffled out and escorted to their cars. Some of the kitchen staff went home, but some stayed, pretending to be extra tedious with their cleanup so they could see the two of you. 
“I know. I’m having such a good time with you.” You agreed, tilting your chin up to look at him, lashes batting, eyes a little glossy from the wine. 
“No- I mean, yeah I-I’m having a good time with you, too. But I meant… leave forever.” Carmen admitted, the lump in his throat growing more and more with each word. “I really liked having you here.” 
“I liked being here.” You hummed, tongue running over your bottom lip lightly. “It was a lot of fun. I liked spending time with you.” 
“Yeah? I liked spending time with you too. A lot.” Carmen admitted. “And I… I want to keep spending time with you?” It came out more as a question, all hopeful eyes and a rounded gaze. “If-If you want to-” 
“-Yeah.” You grinned. “I wanna keep spending time with you. I like being with you, Carmen.” 
“Yeah? Really?” Camren was half convinced he was hallucinating. 
“Yeah.” You nodded. “If you wanna spend some more time with me too. I’d like to get to know you more, and not to just write a staff spotlight on.” You giggled, his lips curling at the sound. “To, like, really get to know you.” 
“I would… yeah, I’d like that. Like to get to know you too.” Carmen nodded. 
There was a pause, the tension between the two of you was thick. Your eyes darted from his lips back to his eyes, already leaning closer. Carmen could feel his stomach lurch with nerves, Mikey’s voice ringing over and over and over. 
Let it fuckin’ rip, Carmen thought before he moved in, lips on yours. His hands were clammy cradling your jaw but you didn’t seem to mind, your own arms snaking their way around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. 
“Holy shit!” Richie gasped, dropping the fork. “Look! Fuckin’ look!” 
The staff clambered around to huddle by the window, watching the two of you kiss, pulling apart with small smiles, before going back in. Carmen’s hands sliding down your back, your arms, your waist- fuck, he just loved feeling you like this, and he hadn’t even felt all of you. Yet. 
“He fuckin’ did it.” Richie grinned, awing at Carmen. “Hey, Sug, might be a bad time, but I believe I’m owed fifty dollars.” 
You pulled apart, grinning at Carmen, still huddled close together, his hands rubbing the silk fabric of your dress, your sliding through the curls on the nape of his neck. Your mind was dizzy, the rush of adrenaline, emotion, and buzzing from the wine. 
“What’re you doin’ tomorrow?” Carmen asked. 
“Nothing.” You hummed. “Why? You’ve got something in mind?” 
“Not-Not right now, actually.” Carmen admitted with a small laugh. “But I’d love to do something with you.” 
“Me too.” You smiled. 
Carmen looked around, catching his staff standing in the window, rolling his eyes when they darted after he caught them, scampering in different directions. “Um, it’s gettin’ kinda late.” Carmen looked at you, fingers drumming on his thigh- that was still touching yours. 
“Yeah.” You nodded, looking at your phone. “I guess I should go, and I’ll, um, I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
Carmen nodded, sliding out of the booth then offering his hand to help you. “Did you walk here?” 
“No, I took the L.” You walked towards the door beside him. It was quiet, the soft hum from the kitchen, the muffled clatters of pots and pans being put away. 
“Me too. I’ll ride back with you?” Carmen offered. 
“I thought you lived like three blocks away?” You giggled, tilting your head to the side. “And I’m in the opposite direction.” 
“Yeah, I-I do.” Carmen nodded. “I just… You shouldn’t ride alone at night, ya know? Shit could happen and… I don’t want it to. To happen to you.” 
You could feel the heat flushing through your cheeks, through your chest. You laughed lightly. “Is this your way of trying to come home with me?” You lifted a brow playfully. 
“No! No.” Carmen shook his head, flustered, which made you laugh harder. 
“I’m kidding, Carm.” You giggle, reassuring him. “But… if you wanted to come stay the night. Since it’s late… and you’re insisting on coming with me on the L.” 
“I don’t wanna make-make it weird, or come off like that. I-I really am… I like you.” Carmen stuttered. Fuck, there was nothing more tempting than that invite, but Carmen didn’t want to fuck this up. He really didn’t want to fuck this up. 
“I mean, stay over so we can talk more.” You gave him a pointed look. “We were having a good conversation. Weren’t we?” 
“Yeah, no, yeah. Yeah, we were.” Carmen stuttered, hand on the door, twisting the lock though his eyes never left yours. 
“So… You want to come over then? Finish telling me about Copenhagen? Please?” And how could Carmen say no, his head spinning with excitement when he walked out behind you, letting the door fall shut, your arm looping around his while you walked towards the L. 
Richie ran to the front, pushing the door open with Sugar and Tina, watching the two of you walk towards the station. “Good job, Cousin.” Richie muttered. 
2K notes · View notes
quizzicalwriter · 7 months
Note
i really love ur writing especially with any matt dillon character <3 i feel like u improved sm with ur recent fics too (or maybe i just like the angst HAHA) but uve always been a great writer, i love how u also include canon details and like realistic details (if that makes sense) but u just r really good with expressing ur words!! id love if u wrote smut like dally bothering fem!reader working a shift at the diner or something idk nonetheless ur writing is sosososgood
Cherry
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Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader
Summary: Dallas makes everything better after a shitty day at work, most of which had been his fault in the first place.
Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Pain in the ass Dallas. Make-up sex, fingering, oral, all that good stuff.
A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words! And thank you for the request!
Word Count: 4.5k
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Working at a local diner wasn't necessarily the high point of your life, working the closing shift even less so. Dealing with inebriated patrons, groups of teenagers, and the occasional male who stayed well past the hours of operation was your usual.
It was a cute thing, the diner, owned by a man who'd inherited the land from his grandfather. His wife had based the menu on her recipes, along with a few from her mother, grandmother, and so on. You'd worked there long enough to gain their trust, and if you were honest, you saw them more as your grandparents than you did your employers.
Dallas accompanied you on the busier nights, whenever he passed by and caught sight of the unruly nighttime crowd, he'd duck into the diner and give you a crooked grin before making his way over to the counter. You fed him, or gave him drinks, just as you did the remainder of the guys whenever you could get away with doing so. It was calming, and made you feel safe having your guard-dog of a boyfriend waiting by the front counter until you flipped the sign that hung on the front door.
While his presence was welcome, the attention it drew was not. Possessive streaks weren't something you prided yourself on. You trusted Dallas as anyone would their boyfriend, but you weren't blind to him either. Dallas was a man, a cocky man at that, his cockiness flared whenever a woman looked his way for longer than a second. Had he ever truly pursued someone other than yourself? No, but, you couldn't help your jealousy whenever a woman approached him with glossed lips and bright eyes.
Internally you thrived on him turning down each woman that came his way, although, much to your dismay, some women took longer to disperse than others had. Whether it was due to Dallas's charm, or their persistence, you weren't sure, nor did you have the ability to check during busy shifts, especially when a man who looked as though he'd seen conflict in the Civil War whistled from the other end of the diner.
"Miss!" He called, waving his hand higher than he had seconds ago. Truthfully, you weren't ignoring him, you'd had to run two other checks to nearby booths and had simply forgotten about him. "Miss!"
With a feigned smile, you peeled your attention from the woman all but draping herself over Dallas, her thin fingers splayed over his forearm. He smiled back at her, the sight made your stomach sour enough for you to partially crumble the bill you'd written up moments prior for the increasingly impatient man.
"Here's your bill, sir. I'm sorry for the wait, busy as all get out tonight."
Your apology was met with a gruff laugh, but he seemed to understand your plight as he followed your line of sight back toward the front counter. While he signed the bottom of the receipt, he cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him.
"Ain't no sense in apologizin'." He responded with a lift of his hips as he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. "I get why your attention's elsewhere."
You opened your mouth to apologize, only to be met with the raise of his hand as he placed a few dollars down on the table, enough to cover the tab and your tip. It was generous and kind enough to leave you mentally berating yourself for not having given him better service. But, you ventured by the kind, almost apologetic smile upon his face that he had been in a similar situation in his youth.
Incessant laughter bubbled from the opposing side of the diner, the noise boisterous enough to pick away at your fading patience. You pocketed the cash, inwardly begging whatever deity listening for the grace to clean up shop and kick the girl out without causing a scene.
Their conversation continued, words muffled by distance and the clatter of putting away cutlery, although you tried your damndest to overhear it all. You began your routine of cleaning up house, a wet rag over your shoulder with a bottle of cleaning solution in your left hand. As you spritzed a nearby table, her laughter kicked up a notch, yet again.
"We're closing!" You called, giving her a feigned smile as she turned her head to face you. She returned your smile, just as you had given it to her, coarse and fake. You bit at your inner cheek as she turned back to Dallas, her hand lifting to rest against his shoulder.
"Hey, we're closed!" You shouted, tone louder than before. Dallas peered at you from behind her shoulder, face a mixture of shock and amusement. You were having none of it, not her bold and brazen behavior, his cockiness - none of it. You tossed your rag toward the counter, slinging the bottle alongside it as you moved toward them.
The woman, for what it was worth, met your eyes as you approached. The sudden eye contact left you stumbling over your thoughts, but as you caught sight of her hand still lingering upon his shoulder, all sense of humility left you.
"He's taken, did you know that?" You asked as you grabbed her wrist, quickly shoving it back toward her. Her smile faltered then, her eyes flickering between you and Dallas as she backed away. "No, I suppose you didn't."
All anger you had directed toward her vanished with each step she took toward the door, instead raising and flaring at the man sitting beside you. You turned, meeting his gaze with a scowl and a shake of your head.
"Seriously, Dallas?" You asked, although you knew no response he could provide at that moment would abate the growing ache in your chest. "You're an asshole. A real - fuckin' - asshole."
Each pause was accentuated with a shove of his shoulder, jealousy seething in your mind, burning your eyes with tears you refused to let him see. You could tell from the sudden switch of emotion on his face, albeit blurred from your tears, that he hadn't meant to hurt you. His hands grabbed your forearms, holding you steady whilst simultaneously shielding himself from your jealousy-fueled tirade. You were in no mood for his touch, so you pulled away from it with a grunt.
The sooner you finished closing up shop, the sooner you'd be away from him. Those words rang in your mind as you walked away from him, repeating with each step as though it were a mantra.
It was shitty; your jealousy, his cockiness, it was a toxic mix that neither of you relished in. You had known going into your relationship with Dallas how he handled interactions with women, you knew where his loyalties were, yet some part of you continued to twist and sour with each look his way.
Maybe it was the extra shifts you'd taken at the diner, the fewer hours you were able to spend by his side, being reassured by his touch and his words. Whatever it was, you hadn't the patience to linger on it, all you wanted to do was wallow in your anger - so, you did.
"Doll!" He called, although he was met with no answer as you tossed unclean plastic menus onto the countertop. You could hear him walking toward you, swearing under his breath, yet you continued to ignore him as you snagged your house keys from underneath the counter.
"Christ's sake, I didn't say a damn thing to the broad!"
"That's not the point." You sighed, shaking your head as you spoke, fingers blindly fumbling with your keyring as you neared the front entrance. "Not the point at all, and you know it."
Once your fingers had found the key to the front door, you hastened your pace, not necessarily wishing to have an argument with Dallas in the middle of the night. Dallas, however, absolutely seemed up to the challenge. He stood behind you, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, a heavy scowl on his face as he watched you lock the place up.
"Explain it to me then." He whispered, and for a second you believed him to be apologetic. "'Cause this attitude, it ain't helpin' your cause."
And then he ruined it.
You swirled on your heel, months of pushed-aside irritation bubbling to the surface. You weren't one for confrontation, never had been, it was a sore point for you. You quickly pocketed your keys, hands gripping the middle of your jacket, tugging it snug around your middle.
"You're an asshole, you know that?" You asked. "You could've shooed her away, told her you were with someone. And yet, you- you entertain it."
The words would've rung home for anyone willing to listen, but Dallas, with his stubborn ways, only cocked his head to the side and gave you a lopsided grin.
"I'm not interested in other women." He responded, taking a step closer to you. "I can't help who talks to me, doll. I ain't entertaining anything, you know that."
Did you? Maybe, but in your jealousy-fueled haze, you refused to admit your part in the misunderstanding. He lifted his right hand from his pocket, placing it against your upper arm, thumb gently rubbing along the fabric of your jacket.
"Do you worry about me?" He asked with a duck of his head, trying to center your attention back on him. "Worry about me talkin' to other girls?"
You nodded, and instead of snickering, he pulled you forward. You thudded against his chest, the sudden move knocking a bit of wind from your lungs. His arms wrapped around you as he laughed out an apology, the sound soft, the words genuine.
"Still an asshole." You murmured, resting your cheek on his chest as your hands grasped onto the back of his jacket. You felt him nod, chin atop your head, his hands smoothing up your back.
"I know." He replied. "At least let me drive you home, alright? Even if you're pissed."
"Not pissed." You assured, leaning back from the embrace to meet his gaze. "Might have overreacted."
Dallas clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyebrows screwing together as he nodded his head back. "No," he chuckled. "I would've done the same if some guy talked to you."
The thought made you smile, not that you hadn't seen Dallas's protective side flair. You were both territorial over each other, and there was nothing necessarily wrong with that as long as the feelings were reciprocated - which they were in their entirety.
"Ever notice how empty this lot is at night?" He commented, snapping you from your mind with a gentle squeeze of your hip. "Hardly any cars pass by, somethin' I noticed after a few nights sittin' by the counter."
Dallas hadn't been wrong, not in the slightest. In truth, you would've been surprised if you'd caught anyone lingering in the parking lot after closing. Your town wasn't quiet by any means, but the diner had been built around, years of infrastructure hiding it amidst a cluster of run-down businesses.
With a hum, you leaned into his side. "Guess you're right." You replied, tilting your head back to give him a squinty-eyed smile, on account of the nearby flickering lot light.
"Could make you feel better." He whispered. "On account of earlier, or whatever."
You snickered, rolling your eyes at his blatant suggestion, yet for all its crudeness, you couldn't deny the stir you felt in your lower stomach.
"You're filthy." You chided, nudging his side with your elbow.
Dallas huffed out a laugh, his arm looping around your back. "C'mon," he urged as he began walking, leading you toward his car. "Ain't wasting the opportunity to make you feel better."
Mere moments had passed before you were both clamoring into the back of the Thunderbird, limbs bumping into limbs, soft laughter echoing inside the vehicle as Dallas reached over your middle to pull the door shut. As soon as the door had shut, your lips were on his, your hands blindly fumbling with the front of his jeans.
You'd just gotten the button undone when his hands wrapped around your wrists, pulling them back as he pulled away from your kiss. You were left pouting, the sight adorable and pitiful enough to pull a laugh from Dallas as he set your hands down in your lap.
"This is for you, not me. Let me make you feel good."
Dallas focusing his sole attention on you? On pleasing you, no less? How could you refuse? Elated laughter bubbled in your chest as his hands slid up and underneath your skirt, the fabric bunching up around your hips. You helped him with a gentle lift of your hips, allowing him to hook his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, before slinking the fabric down your legs.
"You're going to cum on my tongue." He stated, tone full of nonchalance as he tossed your underwear toward the front of the car. "And, I want you over me when you do."
"You want me to sit on your face?" You asked, lips quirking up into a smile as you bit back laughter, truly believing he was joking. "Is that what you're asking me?"
Dallas only nodded, and only then did the realization of his request register in your mind. Heat prickled at the nape of your neck, spreading forward until it encompassed your chest in a deep blush. Sensing your nerves, Dallas's thumbs rubbed gentle circles above your hip bones, his head ducking down to meet your avoidant gaze.
"Hey," he whispered. "Ain't nothin' I haven't seen before. It'll feel good, doll, promise."
So, you allowed him to help you into a position that didn't have both of you groaning in discomfort. Maneuvering into a position where you straddled his shoulders, in the back of an already narrow car, wasn't exactly the easiest to accomplish. Somehow, you both managed, mostly thanks to Dallas's hands keeping you steady as you moved over him.
The chill of his silver rings bit into your thighs, keeping you sunk in the present, hovered over him as he looked up at you from below. There was nothing other than pure, unadulterated lust pouring from his eyes, pupils blown so heavily there was only a crescent of color visible. His fingers tapped, once and then again, a nonverbal request for you to lower yourself.
So you did.
He met you halfway, tongue licking a fat stripe up your cunt, delving between your folds to collect your essence against his tastebuds. He wanted to savor you, that much was readily apparent by his hardened grasp on your thighs, all but cementing you atop his face. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as a plethora of broken-off moans tumbled past your lips.
You begged for him, murmuring his name between praises lost on your ears, but not his. Each word, no matter how garbled by pleasure, left his hips rutting up into the air as he circled his tongue around your clit. Your hips moved in synchrony with his tongue, adjacent swirls, and he let you. He had always favored dominance, being in control of the situation, but having you atop him had him praising every divine figure he could conjure in his lust-riddled mind.
“Dallas-“ You crooned, the noise so sweet it pulled a moan from his chest, the vibration left directly against your aching cunt. You smiled, a mixture of a laugh and moan leaving you as your hands raked through his hair, tugging at the short strands. “So good, Dal.”
With an open-mouthed kiss to your clit, he pulled away. It was for a fraction of a second, needed to slip his right hand between your thighs, but you were left whining and pouting. He tutted from between your thighs, lips, and chin glistening with your cum.
“C’mon, doll.” He whispered as his middle and ring fingers pushed inside of you, delicately curling to brush against a spot that had your thighs clamping down around him. “It'll feel good, I promise.”
His left hand squeezed your hip, guiding you just as he would if you were riding him. You unconsciously followed his guidance, sliding down onto his fingers, before raising yourself, only to repeat the motion over, and over. Lewd squelches sounded from between your thighs, your cunt dripping a mixture of cum and saliva down onto his palm.
“See?” He asked through a breathy laugh, quickly resuming his position between your thighs. “Told ‘ya I’d make you feel better.”
You wanted to berate him for his cockiness, you truly did, but the feeling of his lips encircling your clit left you breathless. If anything, any ridicule would’ve turned into a garbled mess of his name.
A groan of a laugh reverberated in Dallas’s chest, yet he never pulled away. His tongue lapped at your clit, intervals of swirls and sucks following each grunt he managed to sound out. The sounds were carnal, stoking the steadily building flame in your lower stomach. Your fingers tightened their hold on his hair, pulling him closer, yourself closer. In truth, you weren’t sure if he could breathe, but neither of you moved from where you were.
“That’s it, doll.” He rasped, words hardly audible, muffled from your cunt. You managed a sighed moan in response, your hips rolling, sliding your cunt against his tongue. His fingers thrusted into you, mimicking the tempo of his eager tongue, each lap and circle of the muscle pushing you closer to the edge.
The uptake of an octave, your head rolling back as your eyes squeezed shut; Dallas knew each instinctual move of your body by heart. His eyes stayed locked on you, memorizing the sight of you coming undone above him, riding his face like a woman starved. His free hand lifted from your hip, curving around the plush of your ass, knowing he needed a tight hold on you to keep you steady.
“Dal-“
There it was, the familiar beckon of his name. His cock strained against the confines of his boxers, tip leaking precum, smearing against the now dampened fabric. His thighs tensed as his hips rolled, desperately seeking some form of reprieve as your cunt twitched around his fingers. Instead of verbalizing his reply, he squeezed the swell of your ass, wordlessly urging you to cum.
White-hot pleasure seared your veins, unconsciously twitching your limbs, tightening your hold on his hair. Your cunt spasmed, clit throbbing against his circling tongue. You cursed under your breath, eyes squeezed shut, mind solely focused on the ecstasy overtaking your body. Dallas grounded you with slow brushes of his hand along your thigh, fingers still inside of you, lips placing gentle kisses on your oversensitive clit.
“Alright?” He asked, tone rough enough to pull a surprised laugh from you. You nodded, threading your fingers through his hair.
“More than alright.” You replied. “Way more.”
Instead of hovering over his face for another second with wobbly legs, you moved yourself back, giving Dallas enough time to situate himself upright. His hands found your hips quickly after, gently guiding you back to his lap.
In an almost instinctive move, you lowered yourself to place your lips on his. His hands slid around your back, fingers absentmindedly grabbing at the fabric of your uniform as his lips moved with yours.
You braced yourself against the rear windshield, the slick condensation gathering in the palm of your hands, smearing your fingerprints down the pane as your lips moved against his. If anyone had passed by, anyone at all, they would've gathered what you both had gotten up to.
Neither of you could bring yourself to care, not when Dallas slipped his hands underneath the back of your shirt, his fingernails scraping along the curve of your back to have you closer as he sucked your tongue.
Your lips curved into a smile at the move, the lucrative, nearly addictive slide of his tongue against your own. He knew you, knew your body and how to make it tick. Your hips rocked against his lap, causing his already hard cock to twitch and pulse against the confines of his jeans.
"You're still hard," you rasped into the kiss, "I can make you feel good, too."
He groaned, his eyebrows knitting together as his hips bucked up into you. You bit at your bottom lip as you moved your hands from the rear windshield, letting your now cool skin slide down his front, keeping your eyes locked with his as you unzipped his jeans.
His lips parted in a silent moan as your hand slipped underneath the hem of his boxers, your fingers curling around the thick base of his cock. You could feel each twitch of his cock beneath your palm, the skin slick and warm, coated in his precum. You slid your hand up, leisurely pumping him, the act enough to have him grunting out your name.
You savored each lecherous moan that fell from his lips. With a shift of your hips, you centered yourself over his thigh, rolling your hips down in tandem with each stroke of his cock. You knew you were dampening the denim, soiling it, yet all you saw reflected in Dallas's eyes was the same debauchery you held heavy in your mind.
“Fuck me.” You begged, tired of the hassle, of denying yourself the most innate of pleasures. He relented with a lift of your body, allowing his hard cock to slide along your folds, catching against you. You watched as he lowered you onto him, his cock sliding into you deliciously slow.
Thin, red lines followed his nails as they dragged up the skin of your thighs, coming to a halt at your hips where he steadied you. You could feel his cock pulse inside of you, twitching just before your cervix. You watched him with bated breath, allowing him to guide each movement of your hips, and he did so with precision.
"So tight," he murmured, eyebrows knitted together in a mixture of pure lust and concentration, as though the mere sight of you atop him would undo him if he gave into it. "So fuckin' good."
All you could muster was a moan in response, your hips rolling forward, each forward motion brushing your clit against his lower stomach. Your thighs strained, muscles burning, yet you paid them no mind in favor of the persistent push of Dallas's cock, the way his tip brushed against your g-spot with each shift of his hips.
His eyes flitted, sight torn between your breasts and the needy, desperate look in your eyes. He shifted beneath you, planting his feet against the floorboard, giving himself enough stability to thrust upward, pushing himself deeper than before.
The shift in position forced the air from your lungs, a pitiful, broken-off mess of a moan passing your parted lips as you grasped his shoulders. He whispered something to you, but whatever it was had been lost on your muddled mind in favor of the budding feeling of ecstasy coiling in your lower stomach.
"Dallas-" You whined, the urgency in your call not lost on him. He nodded, wetting his lips as he rolled his hips upward. You could feel your arousal dripping between your thighs, smearing along your skin as well as his, coating his lower stomach in your cum.
"That's it, doll." He whispered, his left hand moving between your thighs to circle his thumb around your clit, rhythm syncing with each pump of his hips. "C'mon, cum for me."
Ecstasy coiled tight in your stomach, and with each swirl of his thumb and pump of his cock, you felt it twist tighter and tighter. Your hands moved from his shoulders, fingers threading through the back of his hair where you pulled. His mouth fell open, eyebrows lifting as an expression of shock-induced euphoria crossed his face.
So, you pulled harder, the harshness of your hold mirrored in the desperate way you fucked yourself on his cock, movements so frenzied you felt your muscles burning beneath your skin.
A deep, almost sinful moan rumbled in his chest. You swallowed it with a kiss to his lips, hands moving to his jaw as your tongue moved with his. His thumb was slick against your clit, and with a gasp of his name, your cunt spasmed around his cock.
"Fuck, that's it." He groaned, words strained as he teetered on the edge of his orgasm. "Let it out, doll."
Your lips moved from his, kisses trailing down his cheek, onto his jaw, before you settled your cheek to his shoulder, simply choosing to give yourself over to the onslaught of pleasure Dallas had you wrapped up in. Dallas's hold on your hip tightened as his head fell back, his eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched as his cock twitched inside of you, each pulse filling you with his cum.
You both shared the blissful silence that came afterward, the only noises being the occasional breath and whispered praise, the brush of his hands against your skin.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, words muffled by the press of his lips against your throat. "I'm sorry."
Apologies weren't common with Dallas. To his benefit, he hadn't done much to call for one, but this - this you appreciated. You nodded, leaning into his touch, his lips, with a thread of your fingers through his hair. He continued murmuring into your skin, you drank in each word, heart slowing in your chest, calming with the promises he spoke only to you.
His hand moved from your hip, thumb, and forefinger resting against your chin, tipping your head up to meet his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed together, skin coated in a thin veneer of sweat. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip, yet his eyes never left yours.
"You're my girl." He whispered, and you nodded. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."
You placed a kiss on the pad of his thumb, the sincerity in his words causing you to smile. He smiled in return, fingers splaying against your cheek where he held you gently.
"It won't happen again, alright?"
His words were soft, the sentiment mirrored in his eyes. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He met your embrace with one of his own, wrapping his arms around the small of your back, hands gently caressing between your shoulder blades.
"Good apology, been workin' on it for a while?" You joked, placing a kiss on his jaw with a soft bout of laughter. You felt him laugh, the vibration of his chest against yours.
"Nope." He admitted, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. "You're worth a genuine apology."
"Sap." You teased, but your tone gave way to your true feelings, how much you appreciated his honesty, his words. He caught on, but never made it known, instead choosing to reply with another kiss to your skin.
"Yeah, guess I am."
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A/N: Siri, play "Lover, You Should've Come Over" by Jeff Buckley, please! No, but seriously, I finished this piece with that song on repeat. Alas, I am not dead! I won't lie, I've suffered with pretty damn bad writers block. Somehow, I finished this. I hope you all like it! Thank you for your continuous support of me and my work, I value you all more than I could ever put into words! I hope this piece makes up for my time gone, see it as an early Valentine's gift!
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eggyrocks · 2 months
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THE MANEATER CHAPTER ONE: club classics
masterlist
divider credits to roseraris
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For fifteen minutes every night, she gets to take off her headphones, sneak out the staff-only exit, and smoke a cigarette on a cracked-up old milk crate. And even though she can still hear her pre-determined, carefully crafted playlist taking over for her pulsing through the brick walls, it's the only moment of quiet she has all night.
So it makes sense that new bouncer showed up to ruin it.
She groans at the sight of him, dramatically, exaggerated. She rolls her head back and kicking her feet. "Oh my god," she whines, "why are you here? Go somewhere else."
He doesn't validate this little outburst of hers. He just leans against the brick wall opposite to her, and blocks the breeze from blowing out his lighter with a cupped hand until the end of his cigarette is cherry red. She watches him with a lip furled in distaste as he straightens out. "Easiest place to get away from a bunch of drunk people for fifteen minutes, so you're just gonna have to put up with me," he tells her, smoke billowing from his mouth as he speaks.
"Well, you're fucked because there's a bachelorette party in there that keeps buying my green tea shots," she says, voice laced with faux sympathy. "So I'm trashed."
He scoffs. Iwaizumi. That's his name. She recalls it in the instance he flicks off ash with the tip of his thumb. She thinks he's pretty, and immediately after that she thinks she'd rather cut off her own tongue than admit that. "You're a fucking peach, you know that right?"
"Truly one of the sweetest out there. So are you going to apologize to me now?"
Iwaizumi flinches. "Apologize for what? Doing my job?"
She gives him a forced smile. "Well if you were doing your job, you'd probably know better than to stop and interrogate one of your new coworkers."
"Okay," Iwaizumi concedes, giving a forceful nod of his head. "You're right. I'm sorry I didn't realize that you're an egomaniac who thinks everyone should know who she is because she hits shuffle on Spotify for a living."
"Oh so that's your bit?" she bites back. "That's like your thing? You think you're better and cooler than everyone around you because you think things like club music are beneath you? Because what? You listen to like Kings of Leon or something?"
Iwaizumi scoffs. "I'm a big Kendrick Lamar fan, actually."
She rolls her eyes, and puts her cigarette out on the pavement beneath her. Her fifteen-minute smoke break has been ruined. "Predictable," she grumbles, standing to her feet. "I gotta get back to my job before Spotify decides to put Smart Shuffle on. I hope a drunk person pukes on you."
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extras!
noya is also a bartender at the maneater! there are others who might pop up from time to time
sakusa established a rotating schedule on who's job it is to go do a coffee run since none of them ever wanted to go and get coffee on sunday mornings
yn does not always drink during her sets but sometimes when club goers buy her drinks she indulges
if kiyoko makes them she waters them down
yn drew iwa on the back of her receipt from the coffee shop
iwa was just like "wait who's akaashi"
their hatred for one another was immediate and it's like they've been hating each other their whole lives <3
taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @bedeater @deluluforcarlos55 @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @guitarstringed-scars @nbcvs @garfieldissocool @iheartpinky @mollyrolls @yogurtkags @yuminako @michivrse @19calicos @sunnyskiezzzz @bailey-reeds @staileykout @loverlunaire @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @alpha-mommy69 @acowboykisser @karasyuu @aquariarose @torkorpse @wave2mia @southernfrogprincesd @mfcherry (temporarily opening taglist, complete this form to be added)
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cameronspecial · 4 months
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OMGGG, I woke up today and thought of smth. It's gonna take forever to make if you do make this, but..
Drew starkey and Y/N, they meet at a fancy restaurant like this GIF
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And Y/N thinks he's cute and she's like there waiter or smth and Drew is out for dinner w the cast to celebrate season 4 starting and she's just like really smiley or smth, anywaysss. They get eachothers numbers and talk a bit later that night and she finds out he's a Actor and he played in OBX and what not so she starts watching it and they eventually get tg after more talking. IDK, I WANT IT TO BE LONG LOWKEY, OR CHAPTERS OF THEM MEETING AND TALKING, HE FINDS OUT SOME HOW THAT SHE STARTED WATCHING OBX OR A MOVIE HE PLAYED IN AND SHES ALL BLUSHING AND EMBARRASSED, IDK ITS SM TO ASK- PLSSSS PLSSSS PLSSSSSSSSS PLEASEEEEE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE😭🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼
-Autumn
That's Him?!
Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.8K
Masterlist
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Y/N has been texting Drew all day. She shouldn’t have slipped him her number last night, but he was too good of the match not to take the chance to get to know him better. The table he had sat at was big, filled with, who she assumed were, his co-workers. They were all polite and respectful, helping make her job easy by being patient and stacking their plates when they were done, yet he stood out to her even in the sea of faces. He was attractive, no doubt, and always caught her attention with the most charming smile. He would joke and try to make polite conversation as she served his table. So once the time for them to close their cheque came, she took the opportunity to write her number down on his receipt. It turns out, the feeling is mutual. 
I swear I didn’t know that Nair was a hair removal product. Logan didn’t believe me though. She giggles at his recounting of when he accidentally caused his brother to go bald, not noticing her sister’s arrival in the living room. 
The shift in the couch beside her causes Y/N to turn her sister. “Are you still texting that guy from last night?” Via inquires. Y/N bites her bottom lip to hide her smile, “Yeah. He’s really sweet.” “Well, hopefully, this turns into something more because you need to get laid. Anyways, I’m going to watch my show down here.” The older sister doesn’t say anything as her sibling picks up the remote and switches it to Netflix. 
Y/N continues her conversation with Drew, letting the show on the TV drown out in the background until a familiar voice sounds throughout the room. Her eyes flick up to the large screen and back down to her phone. She recognizes the buzz head and can’t believe his presence. She also doesn’t know why she never thought about asking him where he works. “That’s him?!” she yells, pointing at the screen. Via looks at her sister like she has grown two heads, “What are you talking about?”
“That’s Drew. That’s who I met yesterday and have been talking to.”
“Hold on, you are telling me that the Drew you have been talking to is Drew Starkey.”
“I guess.”
Via pauses the show and pulls out her phone. Her sister waits patiently as her sister types something in. The phone is turned in her direction and she looks at the various pictures of her new friend on the screen. “Yeah, that’s definitely him.”
———
After a few weeks of texting, Y/N and Drew finally set a date on their calendar. His hand rests on her lower back, leading her while the hostess shows them to their table. She sits across from him with a massive grin. His hand rests in the middle of the table and she reaches out to place her hand on his, almost knocking down her empty wine glass if it isn’t for his quick reflex. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I guess I’m still feeling a little Kooky.” Her eyes glance towards his face to see if he reacts to her teasing. His face remains stoic as he tries to figure out if she used the word for the reason he thinks she did. She recognizes his attempt and pushes it even more by going over the menu. 
“I wonder if they have any fish. I’m in the mood for menhaden or as it is otherwise known as pogue.” 
Certain that the jig is now up, he sets his menu down to give her his full attention. “So you know?” he confirms. She nods, “Yes, I found out a few weeks ago when my sister was watching the show in the living room. How come you didn’t tell me?” He sighs, playing with the hoop in his ear. “I didn’t want you to treat me differently. Or for you to be scared of entering a relationship with me because I travel a lot for work and sometimes get followed by a crowd of fans.”
 She gives his hand a soft squeeze. “I understand why you would fear those things, but I promise you don’t have anything to worry about. You are still plain old Drew to me and I have a thick skin from being a waitress, I think I can handle a few teenage girls.” 
He gives her a thankful smile and holds his hand up to her, “Why don’t we start over? I’m Drew Starkey. I act for a living and I think you are the most beautiful girl I have seen. I would love it if you would go on a date with me. She giggles and takes his hand. “Nice to meet you, Drew. I’m Y/N. I wait tables and I would love to go on a date with you.” 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld
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Text
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Artist! Fem-Reader
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Ghost actually didn't know you were an artist, you didn't brag about it or anything. You mainly kept it to yourself even in the beginning of your relationship with him. Mostly because you were embarrassed.
But much like him, you were a soldier, you spent most of your free time observing around the area or doodling in your sketchbook. It was a small one, 8 x 5, black with an elastic band around it, moleskin brand. It easy to carry around in your chest pocket during missions and such.
You were also the girl that ALWAYS had some sort of writing utensil with you, being pencils, pens etc you always had to have it on hand. Not to mention you kept finding them on the floor or other places while walking, so you would always give it to anyone who needs.
Ghost and the others soon started to notice, you pulling out a book in hand with pencil out. Being waiting for planes to pick them up or free time. You always had that book on you no matter what.
Until one day, you forgot your sketchbook as you left it beside you on a bench one day because and commanding officer called you in to chat with you.
Ghost soon noticed and walked over and picked up the book. Curious, he open to see what's inside, only to be met with his face, well, his mask but you get the point.
The sketchbook was filled with sketches of various art styles, of him and other soldiers such as Price, Gaz and Soap. He also noticed you taking cool things you find, like receipts, stickers, tickets etc.
There was even a page full of different skull mask designs for him to try out if he ever wanted to. It's obvious you had talent for this, and saw the world much different then he did.
"Ghost? What are you doing?" Y/n said walking up to him noticing him looking through your sketchbook. "W-wha? How did you get that?"
"You accidentally left it behind." He close the book in hand. Turning to face you, " Y/n why didn't you tell me you are an artist?" You stood there quietly, trying to think, " well...I don't know...I thought you would think it's weird I draw you without asking for permission or anything. "
You can feel him giving you a confused look, " weird? Your wrong doll. In fact I quite enjoy these, I think you should draw me more often then MacTavish though."
"ah, you noticed that."
He leaned in close to your face, his eyes staring at you. " Of course I did."
You can feel your face warming up by close he is, "alright, alright I get it...and to be frank the only one who technically knew I drew was Captain Price. During a meeting once, he saw me doodling on a piece of paper instead of paying attention...he would sometimes ask that I would draw stupid things for him."
"is that so? Show me."
You pulled out a little pocket book for index cards, and on the back of the index cards were stupid drawing of them, ghost include doing dumb shit. It was meant as an inside joke between you, price and even sometimes Laswell.
Ghost couldn't help but snicker at the drawings, it has your art style and humour on it. It's obvious, it's yours.
"You drew Johnny as a literal soap bar, he's going to hate this."
"Well you weren't supposed to see this."
"hmph, And who's this supposed to be?" He flips the index card showing a cartoonish looking grim reaper. You let out a nervous laugh, " ah that...well...uh... "
"Is that supposed to be me, sergeant?"
"Possibly."
"Yes or No?"
You sigh, "yes, it's you." Rubbing the back of your head embarrassed.
"Good girl, I'm keeping this as a souvenir." He says, placing the index card in his pocket. Leaving you there a flustered mess.
"Wait what?!"
Since then, Ghost liked to lean on your shoulder and watch you draw at times, be it at bars with the rest of the crew or at home. It's therapeutic for him at times.
Sometimes he joins in but he mainly like just watching you.
Also since you know he likes flipping through your sketchbook at times, you leave cute messages or notes for him to read. And doodles that supposed to represent you two. Mainly a cartoonish grim reaper holding hands with a witch. Since your nickname is "Salem."
Also Ghost likes to sometimes buy art supplies for you, and see how creative you are.
He's honestly amazed how you view things differently then him because of art, be it colors, or shapes etc. It's interesting to hear your perspective and thoughts both good and bad.
He may not fully understand everything you say, but he knows your passionate in what you do and he respects that. As long your happy he's happy too.
A/n: This is very self indulgence lol, hope you like it! I plan to write some ghost x Mexican fem reader or little scenarios/head cannons. I'm not sure yet but for now that's all :)
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sixteenseveredhands · 4 months
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Doodles Made by a 6-year-old Boy Named Onfim, from Russia, c. 1240-1260 CE: created nearly 800 years ago, these drawings were scrawled onto the homework/spelling exercises of a little boy in Novgorod
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Over the last 75 years, excavations in and around Novgorod, in Russia, have led to the discovery of hundreds of documents dating back to the Middle Ages. These documents were made using pieces of bark from the local birch trees; they include letters, notes, spelling exercises, shopping lists, receipts, and legal documents, among other things.
The most famous examples are the panels that contain the writing exercises of a 6-7 year-old boy named Onfim, whose work was often accompanied by drawings of knights, fantastical beasts, battle scenes, and depictions of himself in various forms.
These are just a few examples:
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Birch-Bark Document no.199: on the back of a panel that had been used for his spelling exercises, Onfim drew this picture of himself as a wild beast, writing "I am a wild beast" in the center of the drawing; the beast is also shown holding a sign that says "Greetings from Onfim to Danilo," likely referring to a friend or classmate.
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Birch-Bark Document no.200: Onfim began writing the Cyrillic alphabet at the top of this panel, but he then stopped to draw a picture of himself as a warrior on horseback, labeling the figure with his name; the drawing shows him wielding a sword while he impales his enemy with a spear.
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Birch-Bark Document no.202: the boy's mother and father are depicted in this drawing, which accompanies another writing exercise.
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Birch-Bark Document no.206: Onfim began to copy a liturgical prayer (the Troparion of the Sixth Hour) onto this strip of bark, but he apparently got distracted after writing just the first few words, and started drawing a row of people along the bottom of the panel instead.
The examples above are just a few of the many documents that have been unearthed in Novgorod (now known as Veliky Novgorod) and its surrounding areas. More than a thousand birch-bark manuscripts and styli have been found throughout the region, suggesting that there was a high rate of literacy among the local inhabitants. Most of these documents were created during the 11th-15th centuries, when Novgorod served as the capital city of the Novgorod Republic; they had been buried in the thick, wet clay that permeates the local soil, in conditions that allowed them to remain almost perfectly preserved for hundreds of years.
I know that Onfim's drawings are pretty well-known already, but my most recent post involved a very similar writing exercise/doodle from a child in Medieval Egypt, so I just thought I'd post some of Onfim's work, as well.
Sources & More Info:
Institute of Slavic Studies at the Russian Academy of Sciences: Birch-Bark no.200, no.199, no.202, no.203, no.206, & no.210 (the site is in Russian, but can be translated)
Institute of Slavic Studies: Full Database of Birch-Bark Documents
The New York Times: Where Mud is Archaeological Gold, Russian History Grew on Trees
Russian Linguistics: Old East Slavic Birch-Bark Literacy - a history of linguistic emancipation?
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ratcash-wasgud · 5 months
Note
MR. KRABS, I HAVE AN IDEAA! (I'm so sorry, I hope you get this reference...) Modern!Mizu x Shy Reader who absolutely adores sketching in their free time, but specifically loves drawing Mizu?
Mizu is unaware for a long time but finds a sketchbook filled with beautiful sketches of her, with little notes by them that the reader made such as 'I love my girlfriend' , 'Her nose is so pretty' , 'I like how well I captured her jawline, it encompasses just how pretty she is.' Every page is filled with little side-note compliments/notes to self (That the reader didn't expect her to see) and Mizu just fawns and falls in love with the shy reader even more. Maybe Mizu will bring it up and reader gets flustered and eventually they spend their free time doing little drawing contests of each other? I thought it was a cute idea, I hope you are doing well and have a great day! :)
DAAAAAMN
love this idea. i'm probably gonna turn this into loser!mizu propaganda tho muhahaha
btw I'M SO SORRY I'M ABSENT and i'm very behind on requests too and everything. i'll try to post more <3
AN: this didn't turn out exactly how the request asked, BUT PLS I had to add a little smut, sue me.
also, there are some audios at the end
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Mizu.
The shine in her eyes.
The way her eyelashes curl.
The curve of her chin.
The way her cheeks move when she talks.
You loved everything about your girlfriend.
But she was just too grumpy sometimes, and when you gave her complimetns, she just got a little red and told you to stop. And you didn't have the confidence in you to try after that. But she was so pretty! You had to get your thoughts out somehow. So what can a girl do? Draw.
You secretly took candid pictures of Mizu, and used them as references. You drew her in every possible pose and with a lot of facial expressions.
You loved drawing her smile especially. Mizu never liked her own smile, she says it's dumb looking and it doesn't fit her, but it can't be further from the truth. Her smile was beautiful.
You could never show her the drawings tho, you'd die of embarassement. One day tho, Mizu was at your place, watching a movie on your bed.
But you were foolish enough to go to the bathroom, and leave her alone with your stuff for five whole minutes. Mizu stopped the movie when you left, because in her opinion, watching your reactions is more interesting than the movie, so watching alone is unnecessary.
But she quickly got bored, so she stood up and started looking around your room again, looking at the little trinkets you have everywhere, and the posters she had seen a hundred times before. Then she found something she hasn't seen before. It was a small, slim sketchbook.
On the cover, there were old receipts from your dates, candy wrappers you ate while watching her matches and a kiss mark in the middle you made with her favorite shade of lipstick.
You usually show her everything you draw, so having a sketchbook she never seen before was unusual. Maybe it's new? Her fingers glide along the back of the sketchbook before she decides to pry and open it.
On the first page, there was a whole page, colored marker drawing of...Mizu. She was a wide smile in the drawing, her hair let down, falling down her back and into her face, her eyes narrowed as he skin creased from how wide her smile was. It was obvious you spent a lot of time on it. But Mizu's eyes quickly dart to the little notes scattered all over the page.
"My girl's smile is too pretty"
"Her nose wrinkles up when she laughs."
"Her eyes shine so much."
"So beautiful. "
And many more. It had her blushing. She covered her mouth as she got more and more flustered the more notes she read. It was like you noticed everything and loved everything. It was so strange. You complimented even the slightest, most basic stuff. Did you count her pores too or something?
But damn...
It made all of her body flutter. She flipped the page, and the drawing just didn't stop, and so didn't the notes. It kind of overwhelmed Mizu. Slowly, the drawings got more and more...clotheless.
At first, it was her collarbones.
"Her skin is so smooth, and the bones cast such a pretty shadow."
Then her back.
"A canvas better than any other."
Then her full chest.
"Pillows of the gods."
Then her...
The clack of the door was heard and you stepped inside, looking mortified.
"Oh you uhm...saw everything?" *You murmur, looking at the sketchbook in your girlfriend's hand.
"Yeah." Mizu answers without hesitation, and puts it down, taking a step towards you. Her heart thumped loud in her chest, as if fire started burning her whole body. She just witnessed the most flattering thing ever but also...it made her want you so much. "You like drawing me?"
"Yes...sorry, I know it's pretty cringe, I...what are you doing?" Your eyes widen as Mizu's fingers grab the hem of her shirt and start lifting it.
"You never drew a full body picture. I'm giving you an opportunity. " She says casually, but her ears burn in a deep shade of red as she tosses it to the side, her sports bra following suit.
"I...but, are you sure? I swear you don't have to, it was just a silly hobby of mine, I..."
"Get your drawing stuff out." Mizu orders, pushing down her sweats, leaving herself only in boxers. You just nod quickly and clumsily gather your things, your face looking rather similar to a tomato.
Mizu throws away her boxers, finally releasing all of her skin and she is sculped like a goddess.
She has a toned body, muscles showing from under her skin, abs almost winking at you and her perky tits being decorated with her hard ripples were just the cherry on top. She has a pretty happy trail leading to her bush, that is guarding her lips.
You swallow thickly as she settles in the chair, looking directly on the bed where you sat down to draw. She spreads her legs, leaning back and her elbows resting on the armrests of the chair.
She looks better than ever.
You can't look into her eyes as you start sketching her body, hands slightly shaking.
"I can't read your notes now, so say them out loud." She breaks the silence, her voice low and breathy. "Tell me what you think."
You bite on the inside of your cheek, glancing up and meeting her gaze.
"Her uhm...her body is...something to die for." You murmur as your hand moves the pencil quickly.
Mizu's eyes never leave you. Her chest starts moving up and down visibly, and she feels her insides twitch everything you glance either at her tits or her pussy.
"Is your view okay?" She asks and before you could answer, she reaches down, spreading her lips, showing you her light peach colored skin that is now slowly dripping out slick.
Your mouth almost falls open, and you quickly start sketching a close up of her entrance on the side of the page, almost not even looking at the paper, but only at Mizu's skin.
"You're enjoying this, huh?" Mizu murmurs, her own lips forming a small smile. "Perv."
"...sorry." You murmur, and look down.
"Want an even better view?" She asks, spreading her legs even more. "Come here then."
You jump at the opportunity and kneel between her legs. You just stare at her pretty pussy as it pumps out her juices. But before you know, Mizu's legs wrap around your head, pulling you right into her. You don't hesitate, and start slurping up her slick right away, your tongue eager to please.
"You taste so good...the best." You murmur into her as groans of pleasure start leaving her lips.
"Yeah? Fuck...keep going...tell me more." She breathes out heavily, sliding deeper into the chair's back. "My pussy is the best, isn't it? You love it..."
"Yes, the best..." You whimper out pathetically, eyes staring up at her as you start slightly making out with her hole, your nose pushing into her bush. "So good, so pretty..."
"Oh fuck...just like that, mhm..." She moans as her hips start moving up and down, rubbing herself against your face...and you love it. You'd rather suffocate right now than stop. You moan into her, pleasing her giving you equally as much pleasure.
"Please...please cum...please give it to me, please please..." You chant between thrust of your tongue.
"Yeah...fuck...want me to come? You want it so bad, huh?" Mizu moans, her hand slowly finding her own breast and starts playing with her nipple. You nod eagerly as you suck on her clit, making her squeeze her thighs so hard around your head, they almost crushed your skull.
After a couple of moment, you felt her soft and warm release drip down your throat, and you happily swallowed all of it. "Fuuuck...yeah, drink it...all, okay? Mhm...yeah you love it..."
Mizu relished in the powertrip as her legs slowly let you go, and watched your head emerge from her pussy, soaked but with dreamy eyes.
"Next time, when you wanna draw me," She whispers, grabbing your chin. "Just ask."
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inkdrinkerworld · 1 year
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omg barista!remmy flirting with chubby!reader ??? my heart would melt !! i feel like he’d be hiding his flirting behind coffee recommendations, working up the courage to ask you out <<33
Yes!!!
You’re a regular at Remus’ job and even though you’re a season early, you’re craving peppermint hot chocolate.
Remus knows this very well, and every morning before you get in he’s got the milk heating and the ‘special’ hot chocolate powder down from whenever he hides it.
“Good morning,” you say sweetly, hands brushing down the hem of your dress before pulling your cardigan tighter around you.
You’re in your typical colourful garb, Remus adores it- even with all his muted tones.
He loves the way your colours are always somehow jewel tones that match with the dragonfly pendant sitting neatly at the base of your throat.
“Good morning, dove. You look extra lovely today.” Over the months, you’d gotten used to Remus’ flirtatious nature.
It was never loud or showy, but always just enough to have magma pooling in your belly.
“So do you. Did you cut your hair, Remus?” You set your hands on the counter in favour of raking them through the sandy brown hair that’s cropped just above Remus’ ears.
“I did,” just then the milk stars bubbling a little too hard and Remus is rushing to mix the chocolate. “I put something else in there this time. Try to guess?”
It’s a game that you’ve deduced is a flirty tactic; but you love it too much to turn it down.
Taking a tentative sip, you taste the peppermint and then something else. Something a bit earthy, a bit like cinnamon but not.
“Is that anise?” You ask and Remus grins. Getting one of those had been easier over the last couple weeks.
His hand reaches for the wet rag on the rack and wipes at the counter and stove.
“Mhm, I was playing around with the recipe to see if I can tweak it to fit fall too.” He looks down, eyes tracking his hands movements. “Unless you hate it.”
You tut, rolling your eyes. “You know I love this little game we play, Remus.”
He’s all bashful smiles as he nods, fixing your sandwich for you with a pastry.
You spend the time Remus is looking down taking him in again, and when he catches you staring all you can do is smile.
“Enjoy the rest of your day, dove.”
“You too Remus,” when you sit at work to have breakfast, you realise Remus had snuck in an extra of your favourite biscuits and drew a small dove on your receipt.
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lionhanie · 3 months
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han taesan ; back 2 u (part one)
you can’t help but find yourself coming back to taesan everytime
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this is part one of my series, back 2 u! read the previous part here!
fuckboy!taesan x fem!reader, college au
...featuring! BFFS jaehyun + woonhak, fuckboy leehan (AND he's taesan's roommate), and lovely roomies sungho + riwoo <3
word count: 1.7k
warnings: cursing, alcohol mention and usage, party mentions, TAESAN IS A BIG FLIRT, reader lowkey doesn't like him lol
a/n: fuckboy taesan i won;t U so bad .. . .. </3
likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!
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You would’ve never expected yourself to be involved with Han Taesan, well-known on campus equally for his pretty face and his ability to have someone new under his arm every week. Your school wasn’t necessarily huge, but it was impressive to think that most students had some inkling about who Han Taesan was.
His existence frustrated you deeply, actually. There wasn't any actual reason to hate him per se, but it was aggravating to think that some people just have so much going for them. Not only was he undeniably attractive to anyone who had eyes, he was also known for his unmistakable musical talent and a captivating charm that drew people in immediately. It’s almost comical the way you could be minding your business in class only to overhear a group of girls a couple seats over talking about how handsome Taesan was at a party last weekend or who his most recent fling could be.
Despite everything you’ve heard people say concerning him, you found it hard to believe he was such a player. Sure, he may have some good looks, but he looks… Innocent, in a way. Harmless.
The first time you’d interacted was in the library. You’ve noticed him in there on various occasions while you were working, but never paid much mind to it, given that he’d only look around the bookshelves for a couple minutes before seeing himself out. Taesan was standing right in front of the library’s help desk, where you worked for a couple hours in between classes. “By any chance, would I be able to check out this book?” He’s holding it out to you, and you’re surprised to find that he’s renting out one of your favorite novels. 
“Yup, I’m just going to need your name and student ID. You can only get it for four days at a time, but you’re free to come back and renew the book if you need more time with it,” You type away at the keyboard in front of you, opening up the form you needed to fill out for book rentals. “That’s a good book, by the way.” Your small talk is unnecessary, but your job was too boring not to make conversation with the few people that actually used your services. 
“Yeah, I’ve been eyeing it for a while,” He’s smiling as he takes his card out from the back of his phone case, sliding it to you on the counter. “Ah, my name is Han Taesan. And here’s my ID.” Picking it up, you notice that the name he’d just given you didn’t match the one on his ID. Han Dongmin? You were almost sure this was Taesan, though. Sensing your confusion, he chuckles as he moves to explain the mismatching names. “Most people know me as Taesan, not Dongmin. It’s just a nickname, really. Does it matter what name I use to check out the book?” He tilts his head as he looks back up at you, waiting for your response. 
“No, not really. It’ll be linked to your ID anyways, so it should be fine.” You scan his ID on the card reader next to you, allowing you to finish up the form splayed out on the monitor. Taesan drums his fingers on the counter, glancing around the near-empty library; he’s humming the melody to a song you don’t know. “You’re all set, Dongmin.” You slide his receipt and a piece of paper telling him when he needs to return the book under the cover before giving it back to him. 
He’s caught off-guard at hearing his real name come from your mouth, but he flashes you a grin regardless. “Have we met somewhere before…” Taesan’s sentence trails off until he notices the name tag pinned to your shirt, “...Y/N?” 
This time, you’re the one caught off-guard. “Sorry, is it better for me to call you Taesan?” You question. He’s probably only striking up a conversation because he doesn’t like people calling him by his real name— that probably explains why people call him Taesan instead. “And no, I don’t think we have.”
“Nah, keep calling me Dongmin. It sounds nice coming from you.” He’s leaning on the counter now, close enough for you to notice the luxurious-smelling cologne coming off of him. “You’ll be one of the few people who call me that, you know.” His comment makes you roll your eyes playfully, scoffing at the way he’s making it sound like a special honor for you to be able to call him that. “Are you free this weekend?” 
The clicking of your keyboard stops as you finally look at him properly, feeling slightly bashful at the sudden question paired with his intense stare. “...Why do you ask?”  Your initial perceptions of Taesan quickly dissolve, as you now realize that this is the type of person he really is. Looks really can be deceiving. He smirks at the expression on your face, happy with himself knowing he has such an effect on someone he just met.
He slides his phone over to you, just like he had done with his student ID just moments ago. You take a peek at it, curious about its contents, only to see a blank “New Contact” screen waiting for you. “Number?” He asks for a girl’s number… Like this? It irritates you to think that he’s probably used this exact sequence numerous times without fail, and now he’s here using it on you while you’re at work.
Hesitating briefly, you pick up the phone and type in your info— You hate how easily you give in to him, almost wishing you played a bit harder to get, but it’s hard to say no to the handsome face of Han Taesan directly asking you for your number. “I’ll text you, yeah?” 
“Okay,” You reply, completely baffled at the interaction that just unfolded all in the span of less than ten minutes. Taesan slips his phone into his pocket and tucks the book he rented under his arm, giving you a small smile as he steps away from the desk. As you watch him walk out the sliding doors, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Next to you, your phone screen lights up. 
4 new messages from “Unknown Number”! it’s dongmin [address] come saturday if ur free, starts at 10 i’d love to talk to u again, y/n :-) 
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
Just this once, you’re grateful that Han Taesan is so widely known, because it was surprisingly easy to find friends who were already planning on attending Saturday’s party. You were at ease knowing you’d at least have Riwoo and Sungho to fall back on if the nerves suddenly took over. 
You wish you could say that you debated on not coming, but that’d be a complete lie, because you’re currently standing in the middle of Riwoo and Sungho’s shared apartment throwing back shots to pregame. “It’s been a while since you came out with us Y/N! What’s the occasion?” Sungho randomly interrogates you while refilling the empty shot glasses on the counter. 
Biting your lip, you contemplate your response: Should you lie and say you just felt like partying this weekend? You’re well aware of the fact that the pair of roommates in front of you are friends with Taesan… So it wouldn’t be weird to mention him now, right? But then again, his parties are huge. Chances are, he invites random strangers to them all the time, so there’s no need for you to act like your interaction at the library was anything special— You’re about to answer when your phone screen flashes on the kitchen island.
 
2 new messages from “Han Dongmin”! i’ll see u later ya? ik u won’t leave me hanging again y/n ;P 
The notification exhilarates you. Was he looking forward to seeing you tonight? It annoys you slightly to think that Taesan knew you’d show up, even if you’d never confirmed the matter. “Ah… I didn’t know you were friends with Taesan, Y/N!” Riwoo reads the text off your phone from over your shoulder as he moves to pick up one of the shots Sungho just poured. Guess he chose the answer to your internal turmoil for you. “Now that I think of it, how come we’ve never gone to any of his parties together before?” 
Mirroring his actions, you take a glass for yourself and finish it in one clean gulp, wincing at the burn it sends down your throat. “Hm, I don’t think I’d call us friends. He asked for my number at the library the other day.” You correct him, explaining the encounter you shared with Taesan two days prior. 
Being the last to take their shot, Sungho hums in understanding across from you. You can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to actually get to know the kind of person Han Taesan is; Would he maintain the tension with his flirty remarks? Or is he just a normal college student that doesn’t actually live up to the reputation he’s made for himself around campus? 
“So, Y/N, do you think he’s hot?” Sungho blurts out, making you choke on your spit. Riwoo giggles from beside you, patting your back as you finish your coughing fit. “I mean, we don’t care if you think he is. Taesan’s a handsome guy. Hell, half the student population probably thinks so too!” Sungho’s contagious laughter fills the kitchen, making you and Riwoo laugh along with him. 
“Well duh, why wouldn’t I think he’s hot?” There’s a smile on your face as you admit your attraction to the boy in question. Han Taesan is definitely intriguing. The alcohol feels like it’s finally made its way through your system, the room feeling a bit warmer than it was earlier. The three of you didn’t drink much; just enough to give you a little more courage to go to the party without feeling too nervous. You take a glance at the clock on their microwave: 10:43PM. “Shouldn’t we get going?”
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taglist: @minwrlds @luna2nite @taesancore @taesanmoon @helpsplease @taylorluvation (send an ask / comment if you want to be added hehe)
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