#yes I checked canvas

[silly-pilled]

What to do when my muse is ugly and uncomfortable, siiiiiiiiigggghhh

[medicalunprofessional]

life is wasted

[glove23]

it's Jason redraw time again!! plz pay attention to the shoes I think they actually rule

close up/previous years jasons under the cut!

[ripplefields]

KEEP YOUR HEAD UP !!!!!

the original <33

[shotmrmiller]

retired pornstar!Ghost who can't seem to ever keep his hands to himself whenever you're around, even when about to film.

f!reader, 18+ smut. unedited.

If you're standing at a table making coffee, he'll sneak up from behind and wrap his arms around you, his chin resting on the crown of your head.

Hi, Ghost.

G'mornin', love.

If you're walking out of Price's office with a script in hand, he's by your side in mere moments, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

"New script?"

"You should know, you're my co-star. Again."

"Lucky me, pet."

He's leading you toward his office, perches you on his desk and cups his hand over your core.

"Gonna let me eat this pretty pussy?"

"I dunno, Ghost. Gonna fuck me here too?" you smirk at him.

"Whatever you want from me," he breathes.

You stumble out hours later with swollen lips, love bites mottled over your neck and collarbone, and his warm spend trickling down your legs because Ghost pocketed your knickers.

The day of, he's texting you if you'd like a ride to the studio.

Sure thing. Get me in 15.

Yes ma'am.

He doesn't ask for your address, and you don't question why he knows where you live either. Ghost, forever the gentleman, opens the passenger door for you, and gently helps you get in. The entire drive over, his hand rested on your bare thigh, his small finger occasionally grazing your clothed cunt. By the time you arrive, your knickers are damp with your arousal.

"Somethin' wrong, love?"

You snort at his feigned innocence. "Cute. Is mercilessly teasing me fun to you?"

"Sorry 'bout tha.'" Ghost doesn't sound all that apologetic.

He brings you in tight, wrapping his arm around you firmly.

"Lemme make it up t'you in my dressin' room", he purrs.

You click your tongue. "Price'll have your head if he catches me in there, especially when we're about to make a vid."

"Be sure to keep quiet, then. Would absolutely hate to get caught."

With his smart fingers and expert tongue, you're brought to peak 3 times.

Price rolls his eyes when he spots you both walking in at the same time 15 minutes before the shoot.

"Always cheek by jowl, eh Simon?"

His piercing eyes cut to Price's. "Not a crime, last I checked."

Price lifts his hands up, palms outward in mock surrender. "Easy, Ghost. Only teasin'." He turns away, gesturing the crew to get in their places.

Ghost taps your chin with his pointer finger, drawing your attention. "Showtime, baby."

The wolfish grin on your face mirrors his.

"Showtime," you echo.

Ghost turns sex into art. He moves with discipline; every languid roll of his hips deliberate. Like a skilled painter, he transformed you into a living masterpiece, using each drag of his cock as a brush stroke on the canvas of your very being.

It's otherworldly.

He watches your face intently as he changes the angle, bites his bottom lip when he changes the pace, grunting into your ear as your walls begin to flutter— the telltale sign of 'his favorite part', as he loves to say.

"Gonna come f'me? Lemme hear that sweet, little voice of yours, pet." Almost as if following his command, you're digging your nails into his biceps, and closing your eyes in bliss as you climax. A loud, drawn-out moan escapes your lips as your cunt rhythmically pulses around Ghost's heavy length. Your soft thighs quiver around his broad waist as he works you through the aftershocks with slow, firm thrusts.

"Look at tha'. Came when I told ya to, like a good girl." Your mind is blank from your orgasm, tongue too heavy and thick in your mouth for you to even try to articulate a response.

"Creamed all over my cock, can ya hear it?" Hard not to when the wet sounds of your pussy squelching every time he bottoms out fills the room.

"You're so fuckin' tight. Cunt's squeezin' me like it doesn't want me to pull out."

His filthy words send a jolt straight to your throbbing core. "Felt tha'. What, you got a breedin' kink?"

Another jolt, so sharp it almost hurts.

"Want me to fill ya with my come? Is tha' it?" His husky voice dripping with desire. With want.

yes. yesyesyessss—

"Tell me you want me. Fuck, tell me you want me to come in you." The words fall from your spit-slick lips like a faucet.

"Come in me, oh my god, come in me. Fill my pussy up."

His thrusts lose some of their rhythm, but still not sloppy enough like when he's on the very brink.

Ghost's jaw in clenched, as if digging his heels in to hold off his climax. Well, that's simply unacceptable.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, giving him a slight tug to have his lips hover over yours.

"I want you come in me, Simon."

The change is instantaneous. His eyes widen a fraction before stealing your very breath with a searing kiss and fucks you. He puts his weight behind each snap of his hips. The tip of his cock pressing into the plug of your womb, making your eyes prickle with tears.

It's too much, he's too much, you think you've gone and bitten off more than you can chew with him when he mercifully stills with a groan you swallow— cock twitching as it pains your insides white.

He breaks away, gasping for air, sweat that beaded on his forehead dripping onto your heated skin.

Cut.

DaVinci and his muse.

Later, when he threads his fingers into your damp hair, you ask him why he doesn't record with others.

"'Cause I don't want to."

Oh?

"Besides, you and I have fantastic chemistry, dont'cha think?" He tugs on a lock of hair. "The fans love seeing us together, just as much as I love seeing my cock disappear into your sweet pussy."

He chuckles when he takes in your flustered expression. "Don't ask questions you aren't prepared to hear, then."

[aira-cc]

.˚₊┈୨ The Artist in Me🪞୧┈₊˚. 

Hello all!! Yes, I know that everyone is playing with infants right now and probably doesn't want to see anything else, but I still want to share what I created with you. In the poll I recently made on Patreon, the artist's room concept came first and I can say this set has become as complicated as an artist's mind 𖦹 In order to share this month, I had to cancel some of the big items, make more clutter and use some ea meshes. I couldn't do everything I wanted to do and think I didn't do justice to this concept. It's not artsy enough if that is the correct term. So, I plan to continue the set in a better way in the future but hope you like what I share now ♡ The set includes a functional easel, mirror, and many decor items for your artistic sims. You can read more information below.

The set includes 17 items:

♡ Bread Plate | 6 Swatches | 900 Polys

♡ Mini Easel | 5 Swatches | 90 Polys

♡ Food Tray | 7 Swatches | 1k Polys  

♡ Pear Teapot | 4 Swatches | 2.6k Polys                          

♡ Deco Canvas | 3 Swatches | 270 Polys      

♡ Easel | 6 Swatches | 780 Polys  

♡ Tools | 1 Swatch | 1.4k Polys 

♡ Desk Clock | 8 Swatches | 1k Polys 

♡ Brush Holder | 6 Swatches | 1.5k Polys 

♡ Palette | 6 Swatches | 2.5k Polys 

♡ Paper Roll | 12 Swatches | 370 Polys 

♡ Paper Rolls | 12 Swatches | 1.1k Polys 

♡ Desk Mirror | 8 Swatches | 1.8k Polys

♡ Frames | 3 Swatches | 1.2k Polys 

♡ Paint Bucket | 10 Swatches | 95 Polys 

♡ Paper Bag | 5 Swatches | 460 Polys 

♡ Cart | 10 Swatches | 1.3k Polys                             

Additional Info:

BGC

Tagged swatches

Custom thumbnails

Custom specular maps

Frames, bread plate, and pear-shaped teapot were suggested on Pinterest. Thank you very much to those who gave the suggestions🌼 You can quickly access these items by searching “artist” or “aira” in the game. If you run into any issues please let me know. Enjoy!!

♡ Download on Patreon(Free)  

────────────────────────────────────────────

Now this is done, I'm going to update all my mods/cc so I can play the game and eventually do small cc requests. I haven't even played with infants yet :S I want to make cc for them and the babies so badly, maybe this can be the next concept. As I mentioned before, I may not be active for a certain period of time but you can be sure that I stop by and check on my fellow simmers from time to time and continue to create content at a slow pace in the background ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎

[bth3cowboi]

paint me in lovely red, mv1xreader

masterlist

pairing: max verstappen x artist!reader

summary: a tiny slip can make your most beautiful secrets public. Sometimes the slip comes in the form of a painting, sometimes the secret is a relationship with a world champion.

format: social media au

a/n: all paintings used here were made by Malcolm Liepke! Part 1/?

( instagram )

verstappen1updates

liked by fanuser and 500,233 others

verstappen1updates Max just admitted that he’s in a relationship on stream! Transcript of the clip for those asking:

G: Max, they’re asking about the new painting in the background. I haven’t seen it before either.

M: Ah yes, that was a gift for the championship win from- [Stops to keep driving]. Well, my girlfriend really.

G: [Laughs] That’s cute, she’s great at painting. Oh- they’re surprised now- [Laughs] about your girl.

M: Ah- We just like to keep to ourselves, mate.

see all comments

user1 YO WHAT???

user2 and just like that we’ve lost him🥲

user3 u don’t know that man

user2 a girl can dream…

user4 sooo whos the girl?? I want to know noww

user5 a whole picture of his winning car??? she must be HOOKED

user6 after that season i cant blame her

( twitter )

( instagram )

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername Spring is coming so new prints are out on my online shop!! Make sure to check them out💛🧡🍋

From the vault: “my yellow mirror II”, oil on canvas, 18x24. Also: my bike, me.

see all comments

user1 I just came expecting more Max honestly

user2 SAME

user3 the only thing interesting on this page

user4 ok seeing her now I get why Max let her paint him like that😂 shes cute

user5 paint me like one of your french girls- max, probably

yourfriend beautiful as always Yn🥹🫶 only focus on that

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

yourusername thanks bby🫶

user6 oh girl stop being so dramaticcc

user7 drop the painting of the car instead, this is boring

user8 i get it know, date rich so you can afford to do your silly paintings🤯

maxverstappen1 just lovely

this comment has been deleted

comments on this post have been disabled

( messages )

( instagram )

inthef1paddock

liked by fanuser and 876.334 others

inthef1paddock Max Verstappen and girlfriend Yn Ln caught together after she arrived to Melbourne for the Australian GP.

The driver had to ask through his instagram stories for fans to respect their privacy and Yn’s career after people flooded her social media with disrepectful comments, he did so by posting this selfie.

Mean comments will be deleted.❤️

see all comments

user1 People are so rude, its obvious they love each other

user2 Oh that hug🥹 what a lucky girl

user3 Did you see the video? He RAN to her, shes blessed

user4 idk she still seems weird…

lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 698.442 others

lando.jpg 🇦🇺 nights

tagged charlesleclerc, maxverstappen1 and yourusername;

see all comments

user1 last photo made me SCREAM, MAX???

user2 Lando is so crazy for this lol

user3 From Charles dropping it low to a hard launch he knows his public

charles_leclerc 😎😎

yourusername 🕺🕺📸📸

charles_leclerc You mean 💋💋📸📸?

maxverstappen1 Lando wont post those because he is lonely and he will cry

landonorris mate thats not true

yourusername its ok to be single lando we dont care you cried to our happy photos

landonorris I did NOT cry 🤢 you guys made me sickkkkk

charles_leclerc sick to tears

maxverstappen1 😂😂

landonorris Stoppp

landonorris Dont know what its worse, the kissy photos or the porn paintings

yourusername not porn🖕

maxverstappen1 Dont be rude🖕

yourusername I will paint you crying now idc you crybaby

landonorris Sure😂

charlesleclerc Famous last words

user4 its ok Lando I will take 💋 pictures with you

user5 me toooo, I volunteer 🤩

maxverstappen1 Please send me the rest of Yn’s photos👍

liked by landonorris and 5021 others

user6 oh wow i get lando now this is so sweet its sick😭

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and others

yourusername “Lando Norris, the crybaby”, oil on canvas, 24x30.

Prints will be available online soon🧡

see all comments

user1 Oh she ate this one up😭😭

landonorris NO YN

landonorris YN THIS IS SO MEAN

landonorris why would you do this😭😭 I didnt think you were serious

yourusername See, crybaby

carlossainz55 Dont worry Landito you dont look too bad

landonorris 😭😭😭

user3 LMFAO THIS IS SO FUNNY

user2 the devil work fast, but yn works faster

danielricciardo Jesus how much for this one, I will give ANYTHING

charlesleclerc No man ask for your own, this one is mine

maxverstappen1 This is not leaving my house👍 good luck

charles_leclerc WHAT? NOT FAIR, YN I WILL PAY TOO MUCH

danielricciardo Whatever he pays I will give double

yourusername Sorry its been bought already

charles_leclerc ???

mclaren Thank you Yn, this will look great in our hall 🧡🧡

yourusername 🧡🫶

landonorris WHAT

charles_leclerc oh my god

landonorris NO WAY

user4 SOLD TO MCLAREN? this is a fever dream

user5 I, too, want a portrait of me kissing max verstappen

user6 I respect Yn so much, cause she went from making tittie art of her bf to paint their friend crying while they makeout in the background

maxverstappen1 Lovely😂

maxverstappen1 Can I request one but without the crybaby?

yourusername I have a few already 🤔 whats one moree

user7 DROP THEM, I KNOW YOU HAVE THE HOT ONES TOO

charles_leclerc Dont drop them please think of the children

yourusername wow youre so boring

maxverstappen1 Make fun of him on a painting for that baby

danielricciardo I will pay for that one this time

charles_leclerc God no have mercy

yourusername dont worry i wont do that, being a ferrari driver is punishment enough

charles_leclerc 😐

landonorris LOL DESERVED

maxverstappen1 Love you my Yn❤️❤️

yourusername love you too🥹🥹

——

a/n: Thank you for reading!!! I might do a second part to this fic, I think there is so much more to do with the plot so if anyone is interesed make sure to stick around❤️🥹 My inbox is now open if anyone has suggestions or ideas they want to se me writw!

[sweetlady555]

QUICK SYNASTRY OBSERVATIONS^_^

Venus 1H Synastry is nooo joke aside from the strong very obvious chemistry and attraction, if you or them identify as straight yall could literally turn gay for each other 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🤣

Moon 1H Synastry is NAWTTT for the avoidants 😔!!! House person could really depend on moon person for validation and theres so much hidden things in this relationship like secrets and resentment </3 this could depend on the entire chart though!!! the good cute side though is that you both could lowkey have feelings for each but never telling each other because you both just know…

Mars 1H Synastry is lowkey so attractive like aside from the strong physical attraction, mars will literally do anything to please or meet house persons needs or desires 😭 i told this guy who had his mars in my 1h that i really liked his paintings and if he could make one for me and that boy had his gloves and canvas out the next hour😭🤣

Mars 8H Synastry not gonna lie i know some of yall be loving mars in the 8h synastry but this synastry placement irked me ouwwttttt overtime😭 as house person in this situation mars person was FEINING for me he was a real freakazoid like the freakiest of them all he was basically FERAL and i was chill with it for a few months but it seemed like thats all he wanted to do and its like can we just talk tonight❤️? Mars will not understand this because theyll percieve almost anything house person does as provocative and sexually enticing but this could go for both of you guys so idk🥴

Pluto 7H Synastry is cute at first because pluto will be so infatuated and interested in house person, youll notice pluto person will be the first to look at your stories without even following you sometimes and its like aw they must rly like me imma let them be :) but behind the scenes theyre checking your social media almost 24/7 looking at all your interactions online and probably will lowkey start stalking all of ur friends too 😭 the pluto person will do this without house person knowing (if theyre sneaky enough) feeling the need to anticipate the house persons actions or feelings … “i just wanna talk and conversate cause I usually just stalk and yk masturbate and I finally got the courage to ask you on a date so if you say yes, let the future fall into place, cunt” (she by tyler the creator resembling pluto 7h synastry👀👁️)

North Node 2H Synastry is lowkey cute in a way bc this is a “i gotta get rich” after looking at house person once😭! north node will literally see house person as this rare beautiful diamond that they wont wanna lose and they will let house person know about this too! but this is just the good side of this placement bc this could also lead to self worth issues feeling like u guys arent worth each other leading to insecurities showing out in this relationship🤬

Uranus 10H Synastry is lowkey a shocker to house person from my experience when it came to a certain career path, in my case fashion, uranus really changed my perception on it 😭 showing me the true reality of the fashion world and its like uhhh idk if i wanna do this anymore☺️! but at the same time uranus person could really be inspiring to house person because of how unconventional and unique they are! i also noticed uranus person could really influence house person to be unconventional and unique aswell! house person could go thru a lot of sudden changes with uranus person when it comes to their career and how they end up being percieved in person or online if this relationship ends up being public.

Sun 2H Synastry is nice to have with someone because sun person will motivate house person to improve in any area of their life they will be on you too (for good obviously)😖😩 Sun person will wanna see house person thrive financially and just in general giving house person opportunities for this. There is potential jealousy on both sides mostly house person because of achievements, wealth and values literally can be anything 😣

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Three

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Flirting. Emotional hurt/comfort. Panic attack. PTSD. Comfort. "You'll be with him?"

“-nna let ‘im die out here-“

“-is too risky without adequate-“ 

Johnny is drowning in a sea of shattered voices, whispers of words that sound like they might be coming from Gaz, or Price, hushed prayers and promises, jargon he doesn’t understand washing over him from unfamiliar, clinical mouths. 

It’s overwhelming. He can hardly get his eyes to open, and when he does, they stay half shut for what feels like hours, even though he knows, logically, it’s mere seconds. 

He’s no longer strapped into a backboard, but a bed, and the ceiling is not metal and rivets, but white and canvas, voices competing with the constant sound of beeping. 

“Soap.” Price leans into his line of sight, hat gone, exhausted. He’s holding a sat phone, the one they usually carry during missions in one hand, a file folder in another. He looks his age, Johnny thinks, for the first time in his career. Looks like he’s spent eons in combat, like he hasn’t had a full night’s rest in a decade. “John. You’re in the hospital on base.” At the use of his government name, Johnny tries to straighten on instinct. The soft, floating feelings he’s been having for the past who knows how long have faded, and his body is starting to feel like it’s been pumped with gasoline, and then lit on fire. From the inside. “Are you with me, Sergeant?” He tries to vocalize, tries to say yes, or nod, but can hardly get his neck to work, bones and ligaments and everything in him screaming in agony. “They want to take you in a flight for life, get you home to a top hospital. Simon's already agreed, but he- he wants to speak with you.” Price wrenches his fingers open and lifts the clunky satellite phone to his face. “I rang him, on the emergency line, at home. Just… you need to-“ he stops, chest heaving with a desperate breath, an indulgence of emotion that Johnny has never seen. His captain wants to tell him- you need to say goodbye, just in case. But he can’t find the words, and Johnny can’t make it fit in his head, the reality, the stark reminder that he could not be here, in a moment. Or an hour. A day. “Open your eyes, John. Stay awake.” 

“Johnny.” The Manchester accent crackles through the receiver. Johnny can almost see him, cell pressed to his face, pacing in the living room. He wonders if he’s got the fireplace lit, if it’s chilly now that it's turning to winter, if there’s been frost on the windows of their little house. If Simon is wearing a pair of sweatpants, if he’s got the television on as he tries to make dinner. “Johnny. Sit rep.” The status check comes through harsh, but the truth is tucked away beneath the grit. Fear. Life altering, heart breaking fear drenches every syllable that spills from his partner. 

Pain sizzles through his muscles, across his brain, but he swallows it, shoves it down into a dark hole for another minute. 

“Pretty banged up.” 

“They’re going to lift you to a hospital,” He thinks he knew that. “and you’re goin’ be alright. I’ll meet you there.” 

“Ah love ye, Si.” It’s all he can say. All he can think about. The excruciating agony that is radiating through his body robs him of everything else. 

“I love you too. Hang on.” Johnny grinds his jaw, blowing short breaths through his nose to try to control his pain response, and then holds his breath when soft babbles echo through the phone. “It’s Da, Pen. It’s Da. Can you say Da?” 

“Da?” Penny mimics her dad, and Johnny wonders if they’re sitting on the couch, Penelope tucked up against Simon’s chest, wispy curls tickling just below his nose as she climbs all over him like a jungle gym. 

“Ma wee lamb.” Johnny whispers. “Ah love ye, Pen.” There’s more babbling, half strung together words, more than appropriate for a fourteen-month-old, and Johnny’s temples shine with tears that drip from the corners of his eyes. There’s talking, around him, people bustling back and forth. A hand brushes against skin, sharp pinch squeezing along the inside of his arm. 

“Can you say, I love you?” Simon encourages, but Johnny knows it’s a lost cause. 

“When she’s old enough to understand, ye tell her Ah loved her, loved her so much. Ye an’ her, is all I ever wished fer.”

“Stop.” Simon breathes. “You’re going to be fine.” 

There’s another poke in his arm, someone lighting a fire in his veins, and he loses the battle to his eyes once more. 

Your neck grumbles in protest when you try to twist it, working out tight muscle and tendon, rolling it across your shoulders and down, back and forth, over and over again.

You should go home. 

You know you should. It’s two hours past seven, you should already be home. Should already be in your flat, showering the workday off and crawling into bed. You could be having a tea, snuggled up in your sweatpants, moving playing on low in the background. Warm, safe. Nearly asleep.

Johnny twitches beside you. His fingers clench in the blankets and then relax, face smoothing out in his dreams. The mask is gone, replaced with the cannula that loops beneath his nose, and the monitor beeps in soothing, reassuring, stable tones. One chime right after another, relaying his vitals to where you sit in Simon’s chair, feet slung over the side, kindle in your lap.

You made a promise. 

And even without that promise, for some reason, you couldn’t just leave Johnny here to wake up alone. The idea of him coming to and being confused, or scared, again, made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Even before you promised Simon to stay earlier, you already knew.

You wouldn’t be leaving.

“He’s had a seizure.” Simon’s eyes widen above the mask and then flatten into something harder, something almost distrusting. “Neuro’s done an exam and they’re of the opinion there will be no long-term deficits, but we’ll need to wait until he wakes to be sure. They’re still trying to figure out what caused it, but most likely it's a result from surgery.” He moves to shoulder by you, no doubt trying to beeline back to Johnny’s room, but you hold your hand up with a pause. “I can’t let you go back in there yet.” 

“Why not?” 

“He’s not awake.” 

“I don’t-“

“Simon, this is the ICU. I don’t know who or what strings you pulled to even be allowed to sit with him in there twenty-four seven, but it’s not the norm. You won’t be allowed back in that room until we are sure he is stable.” You don’t tell him that you don’t want him to be there when Johnny wakes in case there are deficits, that you’re trying to save him from the pain, the heartbreak, of seeing things that patient’s loved ones are not meant to see. 

He regards you silently, and you fidget under the scrutiny, waiting for him to speak, trying to ignore how your mouth is going dry. This isn’t the first he’s watched you like this, stared at you like he’s trying to pick you apart, and you swallow your grimace until the long moment passes, his voice low, gritty with stress. Exhaustion. 

“I’m supposed to go home today for a bit. I… don’t want to leave ‘im.” 

“You can still go. He’s sleeping for now, and when he wakes, they’ll have to do some more tests that you won’t be allowed in the room for anyway.” He looks down the hallway towards Johnny’s room, before his eyes find yours, heavy with grief, indecision. 

“You’ll be with him?” He can’t hide the hopeful inflection at the end of his question, his need for a light in the dark of this situation. 

“I-“ The thought didn’t occur to you, to not be there. You imagined you’d wait until Johnny was cleared by neuro and Simon was allowed back in the room, but the morning has dragged on, and he’s been sleeping peacefully. There’s been no desire to wake him unnecessarily. “Yes. I’ll stay with him. I promise.”  

“He go home?” Johnny’s voice, scratchy from sleep and medication and everything else, startles you from a half doze, spine straightening into a rod before you’re leaping to your feet, leaning over his prone figure.

“You’re awake.” You find his good hand, slipping two fingers into his grip. “Can you squeeze my hand?” When he does, tightly, more strength in it than you were expected, you give him an honest, happy smile, and retreat to the end of the bed, flipping up his blanket to poke at the bottom of his feet. “Can you feel that?”

“Aye.”

“And this?”

“Aye.” He huffs at you, impatient. “Did he go home?” You sigh in response, hand on your hip.

“Yes.”

“Finally. Been tellin’ him he had to. The man’s back ‘s not made to sleep sittin’ up.”

“Well, I’m sure he didn’t want to leave. I told him I’d sit with you.” You reach over to press the page button, looking intentionally away from where those bright blue eyes track you, sweet and soft and open, lips slightly parted. “How’s your pain? I’m not on the clock any longer, so I can’t page the neurologist, but they’ll have come and do a few tests.”

“Ye wanted to sit with me, pretty girl?” Your face gets hot, blood pooling beneath your skin, pit of your stomach liquifying into something honeyed and potent that flows through your veins until you swear you can feel the room getting warmer.

“How’s your pain?” you repeat your question, words dumb on your tongue.

“A five.” You raise an eyebrow. “Alright, a seven. And a half.” The days nurse knocks with perfect timing, all hustle and bustle, bright and cheery, and asks Johnny the same questions, keeping up a perfect stream of small talk between you and Johnny until Neuro is standing at the foot of his bed, and you’re excusing yourself.

“Okay, I’m-“

“Dinnae leave.” He protests, voice quiet. Your stomach lurches at the vulnerability there, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“I’m just going to get a tea.” You promise, even though you know he’ll probably be half loopy by the time you’re back, and the dayshift nurse gives you a nod, acknowledgement of his state, an understanding that she’ll be here with him.

Not an hour later, your pocket chimes with a text from the dayshifter as you half sip your tea, letting you know that Johnny’s exam is done, and as you pass her in the hallway, she gives you verbal confirmation of what you were hoping for: his brain function is normal. He’ll have to go for CT later, but she’s just given him another dosage for pain management. You yawn in the middle of her pass-on, and she tells you that she'll keep an eye on him. You can go. 

She's not wrong. 

You need to go to bed. 

You know your presence at your patient's bedside won't be viewed as unprofessional, since others have done it in far less severe situations, but the pendulum your emotions swing on every time you step foot in that room leaves you with a sinking feeling that's starting to crawl across your skin.

You wanted this. You wanted to stay with him. 

Simon asked you stay with him. 

Yeah, but for how long? He cannot expect you to spend all day here. You have to go to bed. Are you just going to leave him all alone? Are you going to wait for Simon to come back? 

The dread spiral is easily answered when you slide open the glass door and lay eyes on the very handsome man from the other night, the younger one from the chair vigil, now sitting beside Johnny, the two of them softly chuckling.

When Johnny spots you, he manages to fire off your name as a half-effort introduction, more than expected considering his slowly slipping state of consciousness.

“I’m Kyle. Soap an’ I work together.” Soap? Who is Soap? 

“She doesnae know me b’ Soap, only calls me Johnny.” He explains your confused look, to which Kyle raises an eyebrow.

“Wow. Letting your nurse call you Johnny, eh? Simon better-“

“Ach, stop.” He rolls his eyes, but sleep tugs his lids downward.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You give Johnny and his monitor a once over, catching yourself on his sweet, sleepy gaze, flushed face and lazy smile, before directing your attention back to Kyle. “I told Simon, I’d sit with him for a bit before he got back, but…”

“I’m here in his place.” Kyle explains, motioning to the chair, and you breathe a small sigh of relief. You will get to go home and get some sleep, after all. 

There’s a woman with a confused look on her face just outside the elevator. She looks exhausted, skin raw under her eyes, clutching a baby who’s maybe a year, or a bit older, in her arms, glancing up and down the hall before she spots you.

Fuck. You’re still wearing your scrubs. 

“Hi.” You smile, and she visibly relaxes, obviously relieved. The baby tucks her face into the woman’s chest like she’s shy, coyly looking at you from corner of her eye. “You look lost.”

“I’m looking for the nurse’s station. My husband was supposed to meet me here but he’s running late and I-“

“It’s all the way down, take the first left, and it will be at the end of that hallway.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much.” She glances at your ID, punctuating her gratitude with your name, and you give her another smile, leaning to extend towards the baby as well.

“So cute.” You tell her, pressing the elevator button with a ding.

“Cute. But she’s a little terror, especially when she’s missing her Da.” She grumbles, and then waves, setting off against the white tile as you laugh to yourself. Pretty much sums kids up. Cute little terrors.

A week passes easily, beds and rooms changing over, room two sixty-eight remaining a constant. Johnny takes his battles on the chin, burn debridement on his side, casting for his wrist, removal of his chest tube, a third surgery. 

“He’s a fighter.” Simon tells you one night in the dark after he’s slipped off to sleep. “Always has been. He's strong. Spirited.”

“I can see.” You agree, holding out the extra blanket you’ve pulled from a cabinet. When Simon takes it, his eyes meet yours, something soft shining in them, and you give him a smile in return. 

“Thank you.” He murmurs. “For everything.”

A few days later, you’re surprised, and secretly pleased, to find Simon in the café.

He’s standing in front of the counter, paying for what you think might a baked good of some kind, sweet lady behind the register eyeing him up suspiciously as he deposits the note into her hand, and you stay on the outside of the doors, lingering in the hallway, watching.

At least he’s eating something. He’s still wearing the mask, and although it’s not uncommon, especially in a hospital setting, it does give you pause. Does he wear it all the time? Is it just because this is a hospital? He observes the room, steadily taking in all of the people meandering about, some eating, some standing, making their selections, engaging in conversation, and you notice how his hand slides to the back of his neck, distractedly rubbing the hair at his nape before he makes his escape, long legs eating up the distance between him and the door, him and… you.

“Hi.” You squeak when he steps into the hall, turning the corner to find you standing there like a deer in headlights, your water bottle clutched in one hand, phone in the other. His head tilts, eyes narrowed, and you manage to give him a half smile. “Getting something to eat?”

“It’s for Johnny.” He notes. “I ah, had something to eat earlier. When I was home.” Oh, good. Being in the hospital twenty-four seven isn’t healthy for anyone. Not even patients. 

“Cool.” Cool? What is this, a pub? You swallow your embarrassing, awkward acknowledgement, breezing past the word like it didn’t happen. “Well, I’m about to badge in, so I’ll see you in a bit?” He nods, eyes still trained on your face, and you beat back the heat that’s spreading through your body like a fever when they drift down to your shoulders, and then to your badge.

“Cute sticker.” He points to where it’s clipped to your top, shiny bunny sticker from a patient’s child still there, holographic print sparkling in the dusk.

“Oh, thanks. Another patient of mine has a little kid. I was hanging out with him for a bit yesterday.”

“Suits you.” His gaze dips downward, glancing over the curve of your hip, plush from the swell of your ass, taut pull of your scrubs all of the sudden feeling too tight, too stretched across your waist, and you scramble to make sense of his comment. 

“A bunny?” Your brows raise in disbelief, confusion, but he only nods, head tilted slightly, posture broad. Your brain turns over, frantically trying to think of a response, something clever, but he continues to talk, clearing his throat with a question.

“What do you call a line of rabbits hopping backwards?” Huh? 

“What?”

“A receding hare-line.” Wait. What? Is he… joking with you? Your mouth drops into a little o of part surprise, part confusion, before you squint at him in disbelief.

“Oh… my god. That’s…”

“’s not that bad.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, giving you the impression that he might be smiling beneath the mask, making you wonder if you’re hallucinating.

“It’s pretty bad.” You croak, nervous laughter bubbling up in the back of your throat. “Well, I… uh-“ His phone dings, pulling his focus to the screen, and he swipes out something quickly with his thumb.

“I’ll see you up there.” He jerks his head towards the elevator, and you mumble out a mild, flabbergasted reply.

“Alright... yeah.”

Your first break comes up fast. Your morning, everyone’s evening, is busy, with a code, a tricky vent, and a needy, elderly man in two fifty-two. It goes from busy to worse, an argument with the pharmacy heating your blood, spurring anger through your veins and you have to physically bite your tongue to keep from berating the poor tech at the window. Useless. You seethe in your mind all the way back up to your floor, frustration driving you to seek solace, eager to escape the eyes of the hospital, running away from the possibility of being noticed.

But supply closet 2b is occupied, a frazzled resident huffing into a pillow in the back, hyperventilating with tear-stained cheeks.

Without even fully realizing, you find yourself inside two sixty-eight, Simon’s sharp eyes falling upon you with scrutiny. He looks at Johnny’s monitor like something might be amiss, relaxed posture straightening into something tense, structured. There’s a card game in progress on the swivel tray table over Johnny’s lap, the glaring reality of your interruption, and you blanche.

You’re immediately incredibly embarrassed. What are you even doing in here? 

“Miss me already?” Johnny coos, beaming, and your throat feels dry. He’s feeling the best he has since he got here, albeit not great, still in awful pain, still staring down the barrel of more surgeries, but the pain medication from earlier is working its way through his system, and you’re happy to see it’s taking the edge off it all for him, allowing him comfort and conversation with his partner.

“My um… usual break spot is occupied?” You don’t know why you phrase it as a question, it just comes naturally. Like you’re seeking permission. Agreement.

“Ye want to sit with us? While ye eat?” Johnny asks, somewhat pointing to your yogurt cup, and you shrug, but Simon motions to the extra chair, the one that now sits on the other side of the bed, across from him. Guess facilities finally brought down that recliner you requested. 

“Would… would that be alright?”

Johnny looks to Simon, and Simon nods. Slowly.

Your yogurt goes down easy, light chit chat bouncing around the room, Johnny nodding in and out with drawn out answers to your questions, until a noise startles you from the chair, pushing you onto your feet to peer out the door.

It’s a man, yelling, screaming, from a room down the hall, not from sadness or despair, but rage, and your mind goes haywire when security is paged over the PA system.

Deep breath. 

This happens sometimes. Patients, or loved ones, become disruptive. Secrets and lies all come out in the wash in a hospital. Custody agreements, battles, DNRs, last wills and testaments, any of these things are a perfect tinder box. One match, and it all goes up.

A siren blares.

“Code black, code black.” echoes through the hospital, each room on every floor, down every hall.

Johnny startles from his near sleep stupor, eyes alert, the outline of his muscles solid beneath his gown.

Security risk. Lockdown. 

You straighten your spine.

Deep breath.

This is your job. 

Part of your job is being able to handle things like this. Protect, take care of your patients, and their families. Keep them safe.

The man shouts again, sharp tone of anger snapping through the air and across your frame, forcing your muscles tense.

You slide the door lock into place, pulling the curtain to only allow a small line of sight.

“What’s going on?” Simon stands, turning towards the door, and Johnny pats his hand, like he’s trying to soothe him.

“Oh, uh. It’s… just a lockdown. I don’t know.” You’re vaguely aware of the numb feeling that’s spreading from your chest down into your hand, and the sound of the irate man gets closer. Fuck. 

“Ye okay?” Johnny’s voice is gentle, and when you glance over your shoulder to reassure them, you realize they’re both watching you, Simon’s eyes locked onto your now trembling fist, as Johnny regards you softly, with kindness.

“Um. Yeah.” You suck in a quick breath, forcing yourself to steady, gritting your teeth against the frozen, involuntary fear that’s trying to overpower you. You think Simon might be frowning beneath the mask, confusion shading his question.

“Why are you standing at the door?”

“It’s standard operating procedure. If there’s an issue, or a disturbance. If you’re in a patient’s room, if I- I’m in a patient’s room, I’m supposed to act like a… barrier. Just in case.” You keep your eyes fixed out the glass, watching for any sights, listening for any sounds. The door is locked, and glass is thick, and security would be here if anything were to happen, they’re already down the hall, everything is fine. Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep-

“Go sit with Johnny.” Simon's standing just behind you, voice pitched low, sweetened into one of those softer hums, the kind of tone he usually uses with Johnny. Not with you. He’s so close, you can almost feel the heat radiating from his body, and you shake your head with a refusal.

“I have to stay-“ He cuts you off, not even letting you choke out the rest of your quivering protest.

“No. Go sit with Johnny.” He pauses, stepping around to angle his body in front of yours, looking down at you over his shoulder, and you think, for a moment, you see a glimmer of the tenderness there that’s reserved for Johnny. “Please.”

“My wrist hurts.” Johnny calls hopefully to you, mischievous smile and eyes sweet, his good hand outstretched with an open palm. “Need ye to rub it.” Simon nods, serious look quashing any rebuttals you might have, protocol and procedure slipping far from your mind as you let yourself drift to Johnny’s side, settling back into your seat previously abandoned. Johnny offers you his wrist, smile fading when he looks closer at your curled fingers. “Ye’re shaking, pretty girl.”

“Low blood sugar.” You lie. The man in the hallway shouts again, closer, loud and awful, roiling with rage, and you inadvertently tense, jolting minutely in the chair.

“Hey now.” Johnny reaches for you, gentle touch against your skin, warm fingers holding onto yours. You look down to where he tries to give you comfort, where he tries to soothe you, instead of the other way around, as it has been, as it should be, and you get lost in it, the idea of comfort, the feeling of care. It makes your heart stumble in your chest, almost like you can’t breathe, staring off into space, trying to pretend like there isn’t a man screaming down the hall, like you’re not the person you are, buried beneath the insurmountable weight of scars, memories of pain and fear etched into the very tissue of your brain, the backs of your eyelids, every strand of hair.

Ingrained inside of you, forever.

Someone says your name, and you blink back to the face of your patient, who looks to Simon, his expression unreadable until it shifts into tender warmth, re-focused on you. “What is it?”

“I-“ You picture yourself, letting your lips go loose, entrusting your secrets and worst fears to these strangers, these men who you don't even know, who don't know you. “I’m exhausted.” You offer, and shadow flickers across Johnny’s eyes. It’s not a lie, not technically. You’re always exhausted.

“Ye-“

“Code black lifted. Code black lifted. Lockdown complete. Resume normal operation.” The PA system drones, tension between your shoulders draining, and you jump to your feet, palms and fingers smoothing over your scrub top.

“Well, I’ve got to check in at the nurses’ station now. Protocol.” You explain, nearly tripping over yourself on the way to the door. Your heart is still raging inside your chest, beating faster than it should, and you steady your breathing with a mental count. One... two... three... one... “I’ll check in on you later.” You promise over your shoulder, slipping by Simon to disappear down the hallway. 

[imloyaltoscoups]

guinea pig | kim mingyu

You've recently turned one of the empty rooms in your apartment into a makeshift photography studio. It's become your haven, a place where creativity flows freely, but there's just one thing missing—a model.

With a sigh, you glance around the room, pondering your options. Suddenly, it hits you, your friends! They'd be perfect for the job. You grab your phone and open your group chat, typing out a message: "Helloo~ I need a guinea pig for a photo shoot. Any takers?"

You wait eagerly for their responses, but one by one, they all decline. Some are out of town, others too busy with work or other commitments. Feeling a tad disheartened, you're about to give up when a private message pops up from Mingyu.

"What do you mean by guinea pig???" he asks, his curiosity piqued.

You grin, relieved to have found at least one potential prey model. Quickly, you reply, "I mean someone to pose for some experimental shots I want to try out. Are you up for it?"

There was a pause before Mingyu's response came through, teasingly saying, "Ah, I see. You might want to change the term you're using though. Sounds a bit... scary."

"Sooo it's that a yes?" you type back.

"Yup, just give me a minute to prepare," Mingyu replies promptly.

Amused by Mingyu's willingness to participate, you shoot him another message, "Oki~ Btw bring a few different outfits if you can."

After a moment, his reply pops up, "Hmm, shouldn't you be the one worrying about outfits? I'm just the canvas, remember?"

Chuckling at his cheeky response, you type back, "True true. Haha. I'll make sure to have some clothes ready. Just get your ass here. ASAP!"

As you continue to organize your makeshift studio, another thought crosses your mind. Typing out a message to Mingyu, you suggest, "Gyu, since you're the model, can you bring some food? We might get hungry during the shoot!"

Mingyu's reply comes in swiftly, his cheekiness evident in his words, "Wow, now you want me to be the model and the caterer? What's next, am I also doing your hair and makeup?"

You chuckle at his response, appreciating his sense of humor. "Consider it a payment for your modeling services," you reply, adding a smiley face.

There's a brief pause before Mingyu responds, "The audacity. 🙄"

You can't help but laugh at his cheeky response, typing back, "Hey, a multi-talented model like you can surely handle it all, right?"

"Fine" he concedes, "I'll drive thru mcdo, anything you want?"

With a grin, you reassure him, "Anything will do, as long as it keeps us fueled for the shoot. Thanks, Handsome!"

As you place your phone down, you can't shake off the excitement bubbling inside you. Rushing over to your printer, you start browsing Pinterest for inspiration, printing out a mix of cute and seductive poses. You gather them into a folder, ready to guide your impromptu photoshoot.

Heading to your closet, you rummage through the clothes, searching for outfits that can accommodate Mingyu's towering height. After a bit of digging, you manage to find a few options that might work.

With a satisfied nod, you arrange the shirts, jackets, and skirts neatly on the rack, mentally crossing your fingers that Mingyu will show up in jeans to complete the look. It's a bit of a challenge styling someone taller than you, but you're determined to make it work.

Glancing around your makeshift studio, you double-check the lighting and adjust the backdrop slightly, ensuring everything is set for the photoshoot. you settle into a chair nearby as you wait for your muse to arrived.

Hearing the doorbell, you spring up from your chair, practically sprinting to the monitor to check who's there. Sure enough, it's him, standing at your front door with a grin on his face. "Open the door!" he calls out, his voice muffled through the speaker.

Swinging it open, you're greeted by Mingyu's amused expression. Before you can even exchange greetings, your hand instinctively reaches for the bag of food he's carrying.

But he is quick to react, pulling the bag out of your reach with a playful tsk. "Ah ah ah," he teases, holding the bag just out of your grasp. "Not so fast, photographer. You'll get your food after we're done shooting."

You can't help but pout, disappointment clear on your face. "Come on, just one fry!"

With a mock sigh, he relents, literally plucking a single fry from the bag and holding it out to you. "Fine, just one. Don't say I never did anything for you." you eagerly accept it, savoring the salty goodness.

But when you ask for more, he shakes his head, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Sorry, buddy. You're on your own for the rest. Gotta save some for the hungry model."

You let out a playful curse, feigning disappointment as he steps past you into the house, the tantalizing scent of fries lingering in the air. Well, at least you got a taste.

"Nice setup," Mingyu comments as he steps into the studio, his eyes scanning the room before landing on the clothing rack. He quirks an eyebrow as he examines the skirts hanging there. "A skirt? Really?"

You shrug with a sheepish grin, replying, "Hey, it's the best option considering my pants won't even fit you. But don't worry, it's part of the art."

Thanking him for wearing denim jeans, you dive into picking out some clothes for him. "Okay, let's see… How about this turtleneck?.. with this skirt." you suggest, holding it up for his approval.

As you hand him the clothes, you expect him to excuse himself to change, but to your surprise, he starts undressing right there in front of you. You pause for a moment, taken aback, but then you remember that you're both comfortable with each other, and it's all in the name of art.

Once he's dressed, you step back to admire the look, studying him intently. Despite the unconventional pairing, Mingyu somehow manages to pull it off effortlessly. You can't help but feel a pang of admiration, marveling at how effortlessly he can make any outfit look good. "Nice," you finally comment, unable to hide your admiration. "You could wear a garbage bag and still look hot."

He laughs at your comment, flashing you a grin. "Thanks, I think," he replies, striking a wink. "But let's stick with the turtleneck and skirt for now."

"Alright, Gyu, I need you right over here," you gesture towards a spot in front of the backdrop, indicating where you want him to stand.

"Stand tall, shoulders back, and give me a confident stance."

Mingyu follows your directions with ease, adopting a relaxed yet commanding posture that fills the frame with his presence. You adjust the lighting, capturing the play of shadows on his features as he effortlessly owns the space.

"Great, now let's try something a bit more dynamic," you continue, gesturing for him to shift his weight and strike a more playful pose. "How about a slight lean forward, like you're about to take a step? And maybe tilt your head to the side, just a bit."

With a subtle nod, he adjusts his position, adding a hint of movement to the shot while maintaining his composed demeanor. The camera clicks away, freezing the moment in time with striking precision.

As you review the shots on your camera screen, you can't help but be impressed by Mingyu's natural talent in front of the lens. "You're a natural, Gyu," you remark with a grin, feeling the excitement building with each successful shot.

"Let's switch things up a bit," you suggest, motioning for him to crouch down slightly. "Can you lower yourself down and rest one arm on your thigh?"

Mingyu nods, gracefully sinking into a crouch while maintaining his poise. He extends one arm, resting it casually on his thigh, the lines of his body creating a captivating silhouette against the backdrop. His expression takes on a thoughtful intensity as he gazes off into the distance, his features highlighted by the soft glow of the studio lights.

As you review the images on the camera screen, a playful idea strikes you. "Gyu, do you think you could put your finger on your lips and stretch them out a bit? Like you're shushing someone?"

Mingyu quirks an eyebrow at the request but doesn't hesitate to comply. Placing a finger to his lips, he stretches them out into a playful pout, his eyes sparkling with mischief. It's a simple gesture, but it adds a touch of whimsy to the shot, making it all the more captivating.

"Nice," you grin, snapping away as Mingyu holds the pose, his playful expression captured for eternity. "Stand up Gyu, let's switch up the look." you say, turning towards the clothing rack to pick out a new outfit.

As you start browsing through the options, you hear Mingyu's footsteps approaching. Before you can react, he's beside you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he plucks the folder from the table.

You turn to him, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. "Oh, found the inspiration folder, did you?"

Mingyu nods, flipping through the pages with a knowing smirk. "I see you've been doing some interesting research," he remarks teasingly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You feel a flush creep into your cheeks, but you try to play it cool. "Just trying to get some ideas for poses, you know," you say nonchalantly, though your heart rate might have picked up a bit.

He smirk, as his gaze lingering on the images in the folder. "Hmm, some of these poses are... quite provocative," he comments, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

You clear your throat, feeling a bit flustered under his scrutiny. "Uh, yeah, I was just exploring different styles." you reply awkwardly, hoping to steer the conversation back on track.

But Mingyu doesn't seem deterred, his grin widening as he leans closer to you. "So, which one of these 'interesting' poses are we trying next?" he asks, his tone teasing yet daring.

You clear your throat, trying to regain your focus as you hand Mingyu the leather jacket. "Yep, just the jacket and pants for this one," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady despite the heat rising in your cheeks.

Mingyu raises an eyebrow playfully, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Just the jacket and pants? Sounds like my kind of outfit," he teases, his eyes dancing with amusement.

You chuckle nervously, trying to keep your composure as he strips off his previous clothes and slips into his pants. Your breath catches in your throat as he casually drapes the jacket over his shoulder, the fabric falling in elegant folds.

Gulping down the sudden surge of nerves, you muster up the courage to give him instructions for the next pose. "Next, let's try something a bit more... dramatic," you say, your voice coming out a little shaky.

Mingyu quirks an eyebrow, his gaze flicking towards you with a hint of curiosity. "Dramatic, huh? I like the sound of that," he remarks, his smirk widening as he waits for your next move.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling hands as you instruct him to pose. "I want you to stand with your back against the backdrop, one hand resting on your hip and the other holding the jacket open slightly," you explain, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu nods in understanding, a playful glint in his eyes as he strikes the pose with practiced ease. As you prepare your camera, he can't resist teasing you one last time. "Why not give me some more specific instructions? After all, you've already seen the folder," he teases, his voice laced with playful mischief.

You swallow nervously, acutely aware of the charged atmosphere between you. "I think you already know what I want," you reply, trying to sound nonchalant despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. As you continue to snap away with the camera.

He chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sureee" he concedes.

Rolling your eyes at Mingyu's teasing, you instructed him to wear the jacket. "Just put on the jacket now, please," you say firmly, trying to ignore the playful smirk on his face.

He laugh quietly, but he complies, slipping into the jacket with a casual grace. As he starts to zip it up, he pauses and shoots you a mischievous grin. "You sure you don't want to show off my abs?" he teases, his tone laced with amusement.

You shoot him a glare in response, your patience wearing thin. "Just follow the instructions, Kim Mingyu," you say, your voice tinged with exasperation.

Mingyu's smirk fades slightly at your tone, and he nods, zipping up the jacket until it reaches his chest. He then looks at you expectantly, waiting for further instructions.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you gesture towards his pants. "Now, unbutton your pants," you instruct, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't protest. Instead, he reaches down and unbuttons his pants, revealing the waistband of his boxers underneath. He looks back at you, a playful glint in his eyes as he waits for your next command.

"Now, let's try something a bit more candid," you suggest, adjusting your camera settings. "Take out your phone and look at it, as if you're checking a message or something. And keep one hand resting on your jean."

Mingyu nods, slipping his hand into his pocket to retrieve his phone. As he does so, he shoots you a playful grin. "Sure thing, boss," he replies, his tone laced with humor. With his phone in hand, Mingyu adopts the pose you described, his gaze fixed on the screen as his other hand rests casually on his jean.

"Perfect," you reply, framing the shot and adjusting the focus. "Just hold that pose for a moment."

As you snap the photo, Mingyu's eyes meet yours briefly, a playful twinkle dancing in them. "Got it," you say, lowering the camera and giving him a nod of approval. "That was great."

Mingyu grins, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "Thanks. Anything else you want to try?" he asks, his tone casual but curious.

"Can you lower the zipper of your jacket just a bit?" you ask, trying to maintain your professional demeanor.

Mingyu's grin widens as he teasingly responds, "Oh, now you want to see my abs, huh?"

You shoot him a glare, but he only laughs in response. "I was just kidding," he adds quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But seriously, I can't adjust it."

Letting out a resigned sigh, you reluctantly make your way towards him. As you reach for the zipper, Mingyu takes the opportunity to grab your camera, holding it up to give you a better view.

But as you struggle with the stubborn zipper, you can't help but feel Mingyu's gaze burning into you. His eyes are fixed on your face, his expression unreadable yet strangely intense.

Feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks, you try to ignore the distraction and concentrate on the zipper. With a final tug, the zipper finally gives way, sliding down smoothly to reveal the hint of Mingyu's toned chest beneath.

With the zipper finally adjusted, you reclaim your camera from Mingyu's grasp, grateful to resume the shoot. You quickly refocus your attention, determined to capture the perfect shot.

"Alright, Gyu, let's try something a little more intense," you say, your voice slightly husky as you gesture for him to follow your lead.

He nods, his expression serious as he waits for your instructions. "Place your thumb on your lower lip," you continue, your voice barely above a whisper as you watch him carefully.

Mingyu follows your directions without hesitation, his thumb brushing lightly against his lower lip as he fixes his gaze on the camera. There's a raw intensity in his eyes, a simmering passion that sends a shiver down your spine.

As you snap away with your camera, you can't help but feel the sexual tension crackling between you. Each pose becomes more daring, more provocative.

"That's a wrap," you declare with a satisfied smile, reviewing the pictures you've taken with Mingyu. The images are stunning, each one capturing a different facet of his charm and charisma.

Mingyu nods in agreement, a satisfied grin on his face as he removes the jacket, leaving him with just the unbuttoned pants. "Great job, Y/N," he says, giving you a playful wink. "Now, how about we switch roles? You be the model, and I'll be the photographer."

You consider his suggestion for a moment before nodding. "Why not?" you reply with a grin, handing him the camera. "Let's see what you can do behind the lens."

Mingyu accepts the camera with a grin, already brimming with ideas for poses and compositions. "Alright, but first, I think you need to change," he says, gesturing towards your denim shorts. "How about switching into some jeans?"

You nod in agreement, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of being on the other side of the camera. "Sounds good," you reply, making your way to your bedroom to change. As you slip into a pair of jeans, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building inside you.

You return to the room, a sense of suspense coursing through you as Mingyu holds out a denim jacket. His next request catches you off guard. "Um, remove my shirt and bra and just wear the jacket?" you repeat, your voice slightly shaky with surprise.

Mingyu nods, a determined look in his eyes as he hands you a picture from the folder. "Yeah, I saw this pose and thought it would look great on you," he explains, his tone confident.

You take a deep breath, feeling a surge of nerves and excitement as you strip off your shirt and bra, leaving you with just the jacket. Clutching the picture in your hand, you mimic the pose, trying to channel the same confidence and allure as the model in the photo.

As you hold the pose, he snaps away with the camera, capturing the moment from every angle. "Perfect," he murmurs, a hint of admiration in his voice as he reviews the shots.

Suddenly, Mingyu's voice breaks the silence, pulling you out of your reverie. "Now, how about we try something a little more daring?" he suggests, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his suggestion. "Oh? That would be?" you ask, your curiosity piqued.

Mingyu hands you another picture from the folder, his gaze intense as he meets your eyes. "I want you to remove the jacket and just cover your chest," he says, his voice low and husky with desire.

You swallow nervously, feeling a rush of heat flood through you at his words. With trembling hands, you remove the jacket, leaving your chest exposed as you cover yourself with your arms.

Mingyu watches you intently, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he captures the moment with his camera. "Beautiful," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he continues to snap away.

But he's not done yet. "Turn around," he instructs, his voice firm but gentle. "Place your hands behind your back, in your pockets."

You obey his command, feeling a thrill run through you as you follow his instructions. The cool breeze brushes against your exposed breasts, sending a shiver down your spine as your nipples harden in response.

Mingyu continues to photograph you, you can't help but feel a sense of exhilaration coursing through you. This photoshoot has taken an unexpected turn, but you find yourself embracing the moment, eager to see where it leads.

As you stand there, feeling a mix of exhilaration and uncertainty, you hear Mingyu's voice behind you. "You look really stunning," he murmurs, his words sending a thrill down your spine.

You turn to face him, a faint blush tinting your cheeks as he moves closer, reaching out to adjust your hair with gentle fingers. His touch sends a shiver of anticipation racing through you.

Mingyu then leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Why don't we go all out?" he whispers, his voice low and husky. "Why don't you take off all your remaining clothes? We can recreate the birth of Venus. You already look perfect, so let's give it a go."

You meet his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as you consider his proposal. His eyes are dark with desire, burning with a hunger that mirrors your own.

In that moment, you feel a surge of courage coursing through you. With a nod, you take a deep breath and begin to remove your remaining clothes, baring yourself to him completely.

You stand there, vulnerable and exposed, you can't help but feel a sense of liberation washing over you. Mingyu's eyes drink in every inch of your naked form, his admiration evident in the way he looks at you.

As the last click of the camera signals the end of the shoot, Mingyu's words bring you back to reality. "It's done," he declares, his voice filled with satisfaction as he sets the camera down on the table.

With a sense of relief, you start to gather your clothes, eager to cover yourself and return to some semblance of normalcy.

But before you can fully clothe yourself, Mingyu's voice stops you in your tracks. "Wait," he says, his tone commanding yet gentle.

Confused, you turn to look at him, your hands still clutching your clothes to your chest. His eyes are filled with lust as he walks towards you, a hunger burning within him that sends a thrill through your veins.

You swallow nervously as he cups your face in his hands, his touch sending electric sparks dancing across your skin. Closing your eyes, you lean into his touch, anticipation building in the air as you wait for his next move.

And then it happens. Mingyu leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle caress. It's a slow, languid kiss, filled with passion and thirst as you melt into each other's embrace.

Feeling emboldened by the intensity of the moment, you drop your clothes, wrapping your arms around Mingyu to deepen the kiss. His response is immediate, his hands roaming eagerly over your body as he pulls you closer, his desire evident in every touch.

With a soft gasp, you feel Mingyu's hand on his pants, lowering them along with his boxers to let his cock free. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel him aligning it along your entrance, the anticipation sending a shiver of excitement coursing through you.

As Mingyu slides his length inside you, you let out a soft moan, the sensation of him filling you completely overwhelming your senses. His hands wrap around your butt, lifting you effortlessly off the ground, and you instinctively wrap your legs around him, clinging to him tightly as he begins to move.

With each thrust, he sets a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself moving in sync with him, using your arms to pull yourself up and down on him, your legs squeezing his waist to grip him tighter.

His lips find yours in a passionate kiss, adding an extra layer of intensity to the already electric atmosphere. You lose yourself in the moment, the world fading away as you focus solely on the feeling of Mingyu inside you, the rhythm of your bodies moving in perfect harmony.

As you reach your climax together, the pleasure crashes over you in a tidal wave, your bodies trembling with the force of your release. Pressing your foreheads together, you lock eyes with Mingyu, sharing a moment of pure connection as you cum together inside you.

Still clinging to him, he squeeze your ass, the sensation sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Mingyu's words break the silence, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and satisfaction. "If this is what you meant for being a guinea pig," he says, his tone teasing yet sincere, "then count me in for every experiment."

Laughing at his playful remark, you reluctantly unwrap your legs from around him as he gently sets you back down on the ground. Despite the lingering warmth of your connection, you know there are practical matters to attend to.

"Shower sounds amazing right now," you say with a grin, feeling a sudden pang of hunger as you remember the food Mingyu brought. "And food too, definitely food."

Mingyu nods in agreement, a smile playing on his lips as he reaches for your hand. "Lead the way," he says, his voice soft and reassuring as he follows you towards the bathroom.

As you step into the shower together, the warm water cascading over your bodies, you can't help but feel a sense of intimacy and closeness with Mingyu. The simple act of washing each other's skin becomes a tender gesture of care and affection, deepening the bond between you.

After the shower, you wrap yourselves in towels and make your way to the kitchen, where you find the food Mingyu brought earlier waiting for you. Sitting down at the table together, you share a meal.

You then started to set up your laptop to export the pictures from the photoshoot, eager to see the results of your collaboration. As you browse through the images, you can't help but feel a sense of pride at the work you've created together.

With a satisfied smile, you lean back in your chair, feeling grateful for the day you've shared with Mingyu. As you look at him, a sense of warmth fills your heart, knowing that you've found someone who's willing to go on this journey with you, one photoshoot at a time.

....... ≿━━━━༺MINGYU༻━━━━≾ .......

[tizeline]

Tizeline - She/Her - Digital Artist

Mostly fanart with some original art sprinkled in here and there

Pr*ship & Tc*st go awayyy

Tag navigation, FAQ and AU info under cut 👇

Tags

#tizel art - Art tag

#tizel talk - Me rambling about random stuff

#Tiz Sep AU - My dumb RotTMNT AU

FAQ

Can I repost your art? No! Please don't!

Can I use your art as a profile picture / header? Yes, I am fine with that! Preferably with credit

Can I draw fanart of your AU? YES god yes no need to ask just make sure to tag me so I can see it :D!!

Can I dub your comics? No, I'd rather you not

What do you use to create art? I mostly draw in Procreate on an iPad

What brushes do you use? This is something that changes as I like to switch things up sometimes, but lately I've mostly been using the Shale Brush in Procreate

What canvas sizes do you usually work with? Depends on the drawing, but usually either A4 format (2480 x 3508 pixels) or a square canvas (ca 2000x2000 pixels). As a rule of thumb, I rarely go lower than 1000 pixels on either side. I always use 300 dpi.

What's Tiz Sep AU?

A seperated RotTMNT AU where Raph, Leo and Mikey were raised by Draxum and Donnie were raised by Splinter, check out the tag for more info!

Some highlights of the Tiz Sep AU

(there's more to find under the hashtag, but if you don't wanna scroll through it all, here are some of the more important/interesting posts)

(ALSO! These are not in chronological order, they're in the order that I posted them, so they jump back and forth in the story quite a bit)

First Post (original concept)

Turtle Hands

Powerhouse Mikey

Donnie's complicated relationship to his brothers

Leo Fanboy Moment

Everyone sucks at names (including me)

Shelldon!

Leo-Brooding-In-A-Pizzeria Arc

- Run of the Mill encounters

- Jealousy

- Leo AND Donnie Fanboy moment

Overprotective Big Bro

Unusual Team Up

Raph + Casey Friendship Moment

Leo is a Poor Winner

Raph + Casey Friendship Moment PART 2!

Cell Talk - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Little Bro...?

Separation anxiety and it's consequences - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Gearing Up (Follow up to Cell Talk) - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

The Beginning - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

[skaldish]

To add onto that last ask abt voting, while I think destroying the system would be beneficial, they're forgetting that there's going to be horrible people participating in the system regardless of our participation and voting for the GOP. How can you destroy a system when a significant chunk of the population is going to enthusiastically participate in it regardless? It's not like Conservative bigots won't vote.

Bruh. Do you know what would happen if you were to destroy the system?

Millions and millions of people will die, starting with the most marginalized and the most vulnerable.

Do you know why? Because the power vacuum left behind by a collapsed government will not stay unoccupied. It will rapidly be filled by whoever is the biggest, nastiest, bloodthirstiest bully on the block.

Why do you think Project 2025 is all about destroying the system? Because the system, again, is the only thing preventing the alt-right from going on an ethnic cleansing spree, killing everyone who doesn't fit their vision of a white ethno-nation.

You will not herald in a golden age of equity by destroying a system that has working checks and balances. You will get a lifetime of stress and living from moment to harrowing moment. You will have to sacrifice getting to be who you are in exchange for becoming a machine for survival.

Anarchy is a beautiful dream, because it's a dream that'll do whatever you want in your mind. It is Intriguing. It is New. It is Different. It looks like a fresh start, a blank canvas...but the error lies in assuming you'll get ANY SAY in how that canvas will get painted. Life is not something we get to shape like that, because it's not something we can control no matter how we organize ourselves. All we can do is figure out how we want to co-habit and co-operate within the ecosystem of all things.

There will always be "bad people" participating in the system, yes, but that's because "bad people" is a construct—bad is a thing we made it up. What's bad in one worldview is good in another. Not only that, everyone is capable of being bad and good, regardless of the morals and values they hold, system or no system.

Additionally, those same bigots who participate in the system now? They will GLADLY participate in a non-system.

Hell, they've got fucking plans for it.

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Warnings: Language, smut, and NSFW. Reader uses lipstick on Eddie’s back.

~*~

When you let Eddie use your naked back as a place to outline his campaign plan with his figurines, in exchange, also using your lipstick on his body for a little extra fun…

It’s a story that will be for the history books, it will. Eddie running out of paper and forgetting to add it to his convenience store list - a tale as old as time, really. Having to rely on one sheet you’d scrounged from your small pocket journal — with minimal space for game plan, Eddie was irritated. But you’d been in a playful mood all day, teasing him, taunting him, wearing that oversized t-shirt with a printed bouquet of flowers on it, and having the audacity to change out of your normal underwear for a thong.

“You’re not wearin’ any underwear there, sweetheart,” he says, watching your shirt ride up and the fat of your ass spill out around the thin piece of fabric.

You hum, chewing on your gum, blowing a bubble that touches your cute nose, acting nonchalant — ergo, making Eddie Munson go crazy. “Yes I am, and you know it.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, continuing to rifle through his things, before giving up. He knees his way into the bed with you, arm tossing around your shoulders, kneading tension with a mannerism, in which, only he can provide for you. You form a plan quickly, reaching for your discarded purse on his nightstand, forgoing your magazine to show him an extremely bright, neon red lipstick. “Here’s a pencil.”

“And just what do you propose, little devil of mine?” He’s amused, mirth glittering in those chocolate eyes when you turn into his cheeky smile.

“You’ve got a pencil - check. Well, I do. But that’s for later.” You place the lipstick aside. “And you need a canvas, right?”

He’s nodding slowly, eyebrow raised. “Well established, yes.”

You perform an erotic act next, one that Eddie can’t describe. You reach back to yank on your hem, tugging your shirt up your back until it’s around your neck, then you lift your head, slide it down your arms, and fling it across room — without even showing him just a glimpse of your beautiful tits. He’s cursing, jaw dropping. And then you’re propping on your tucked arms. “A fleshy expanse, for lack of better word terms.”

“You… I… you’re shittin’ me.”

You shake your head. “Nope. Write down a general idea on your paper, then act it out on my back. But only if I get to have a little fun of my own on yours.”

Eddie thinks he’s passed on again. But as you relax back down, he immediately gets to work outlining on his one sheet of paper. It’s done after what feels like forever, but has been half an hour (he hasn’t finished, needing a halfway break by your distraction.) It’s enough for him to slide off his bed and go grab his little figurines he normally maps out on a bigger sheet of paper. You sigh with their tiny little presses, Eddie muttering out commands to them, lining them, shifting. And your ass wiggles a bit, causing him to lose all focus.

He tosses everything aside and it clatters to the floor, but you’re rushing him before he can even adjust the growing hardness between his legs. You shove him onto his stomach, straddling his backside in surprise, a giggle as you sweep the curls off his naked shoulder blades, his ears perking up as he hears the cap click off your lipstick.

“Babe…” he warns, a whine dipping off his hot mouth.

“Shh, you had your fun, now it’s my turn.” And Eddie awaits your ‘fun’, cock trapped between his stomach and the mattress, throbbing.

It’s a weird sensation to have your makeup marking his way — cool and kinda sticky. He doesn’t resist the smirk at his own joke. But he’s curious, he’s turned on, he’s a hot rod smoking at the wheels. And only does he let out the extreme breath he’s been holding, when he hears the cap return. You blow along his back, causing his nipples to perk, and he is lifting himself up.

He can’t wait anymore. He doesn’t care what you’ve drawn on him (an attempt at a bat with heart eyes), he’ll find out later… You’re already consenting with blown pupils and a matching nod, lipstick landing on the dresser across the room from a careless throw. Eddie’s voice is a low rumble, practically making his chain bounce from its echo. He licks his mouth, the corner of his lip, and he speaks. “Turn back around for me, pull your thong down.”

You comply, soaked and ever-so-willing. It makes him cocky, giddy. His sweats catching on his cock as he lowers them below his ass. He can’t wait. Spreads your cheeks apart to see how you glisten for him, how messy your curls are, and ring clad fingers spread you open and he watches, spare hand jerking himself with his pre to slick up. His hands finds yours over the headboard as he takes you, across your sticky flesh, the lipstick stained bat moving when the muscles beneath his skin do…

[dragon-ascent]

Rex, incognito; and you, frustrated.

When your god goes incognito, his only giveaway is his amber eyes. And you’ve been running into amber-eyed folk a lot lately…

When you go fetch the morning paper, the man delivering them tells you not to believe the front-page news about Qiaoying’s monster crisis and that the matter has already been dealt with swiftly. You frown at him, confused, and that’s when you see his amber-hued gaze as he trudges away.

The bookstore has a new highly-anticipated book in stock! Demand is sky-high, and just when you’re about to snag the last copy…some guy takes it for himself, smiling apologetically at you. One look at his eyes and it’s made known that Rex Lapis just swiped the book you’d been looking forward to reading.

A black cat runs over to you one day, nuzzling the everloving crap out of you. How cute, you think, and pick him up, and as he licks you eagerly you notice his damn amber eyes. (You still cuddle him for a bit, though. You’re not going to hold a grudge against your archon for some book.)

Taking a stroll along the foot of Mt. Aocang, you find a painter expertly decorating his canvas in a vivid array of colours. When you approach him and ask what he’s painting, he says without even looking up, “It’s a scene from a book I have been entranced by recently. The scene takes place at the foot of this mountain here, and I was inspired to try my hand at recreating the scene. Here, you may have a look.”

And when you do look…it’s a spoiler from the book you’d wanted to read but failed to snag. The book Rex Lapis literally yoinked from under your nose.

You look up hastily, intending to erase whatever you’d seen in that moment from your mind, and you meet the curious painter’s amber eyes.

Rex Lapis the painter tilts his head. “Is something the matter?”

You’re eating your lunch by the pond you frequent, minding your business when someone quietly sits near you, opening his lunchbox. His eyes meet yours and oh boy, they’re amber.

Your eyes widen. Maybe it’s time for a confrontation. “I know you’re Rex Lapis.”

The man looks away, a deep blush blooming on his rather lovely face. “Rex Lapis…I’m afraid I have never heard of him.” And then he goes back to eating his home-cooked, traditional Liyuen meal.

****

You sigh as you stir your tea, venting to the tea seller about all your encounters. And yes, you checked to make sure: this man’s eyes are grey. Thank archons.

“Perhaps He simply wishes to get to know you better,” offers the man earnestly. “When Rex goes incognito, He attempts to understand us on a deeper level, yes?”

“I suppose so.” You sip your tea in contemplation. “By the way, this tea is exquisite.”

He beams like it’s the greatest compliment he’s ever gotten. “Thank you.”

You down the rest of your cup and are about to ask for another one when something small falls onto the table. You pick it up, frowning. A…grey contact lens..?

The tea seller blinks at you, equally taken aback as you register how his face has now changed; one eye grey, one eye teasingly golden. The man fidgets, shielding his eyes from you but it’s too late.

Sighing, you gather your things, leave a tip for Rex Lapis the tea seller, and head straight home.

★彡Sort of a sequel-but-not-really to this post hehe

[tgcg]

ms paint. you know her. u used her age 8 to make loads of rainbow ovals all over the canvas and then scramble it with selection tool. now u will know her true powers with my handyrandy tips under the readmore. some will be pretty basic and others are very special.

this post has 8 cool trix to learn for you. enjoy and i may do another in the future if i remember/learn more stuff

some of it might be common knowledge. but its got some deep cuts. all tips have gifs to show process easily.

🙂 enjoy and i hope this encourages you to fuck around in mspaint more

soundtrack for this post (loop it while you learn for advanced learning experience)

TIP 1) the right click trick

left and right mouse click correspond to col1 and col2 respectively, which u can see in the top bar. this applies to all brushes and the fill tool like above. when using shapes col2 will be the fill colour (if you have solid fill selected). right clicking with shape maker will reverse the colours use on the shape.

TIP 2) right click eraser

this one is extremely helpful for lineart or add shading. the eraser always uses col2. so your eraser can technically be any colour. but here's where you get powers: right clicking with eraser will only erase onto col1, with col2.

TIP 3) transparent selection change a guy destination

the beloved transparent selection tool works based on what is selected as col2. so long as you have the correct colour as col2 you can make any image transparent and put it on top of anything else. and yes this works with photo bg as you can see.

TIP 4) the gradience

this one is a little more complex. you want to start off with any canvas size, and make as many diagonal coloured bands as you want. (protip: holding down shift makes a perfectly diagonal line with line tool)

then you need to resize the canvas to a width of 1px (make sure you resize by pixels, and do not maintain aspect ratio). then resize again back to its original width (or a different width i cant stop you). you will have your lovely gradience.

TIP 5) superimposter

so. you got a cool gradient and wanna put a guy on it. heres what i do:

i open a 2nd mspaint with same canvas size and draw whatever i want on there. i then pick a completely unrelated colour to my entire piece, and set that as the bg. you could use white, pink, geen, whatever you want as long as it doesnt appear somewhere else in ur drawing. copy the guy.

go back to your gradient tab. ensure that col2 is set as that bg colour you picked (lilac for me). have "transparent selection" enabled. paste your guy in. cue fanfare

TIP 6) advanced superimposter

the great thing about this method is u can put multiple gradients in multiple areas of the image. this is where it gets all japanese printmaking type of shit. ukiyo-esque

all you need to do is make another canvas with a new gradient, ensure col2 is set as the colour you want to replace, then paste your original piece onto the new gradient. now my guy has a soft fade. you can do this as much as you want. (you could even make a canvas with a texture or photo and paste your drawing onto there)

TIP 7) "sketch layer"

so as you now know, col2 is what is removed when you click "transparent selection". which means you can also remove any instance of a colour from ur drawing. which means you can have a unique colour for sketch layer and remove it from the drawing later. i admittedly dont do this but it is a great trick to have.

now combine this with lowering your dpi for smoother lines. may seem obvious but it helps. its like a free stabiliser whenever u want.

TIP 8) rainbow art

now this is where you can get dizzee rascal "bonkers". check out my small and shitty rainbow trick. you can select anything and hold down shift, then drag with left mouse, to turn that selection into its own brush. i even did it with a guy. and you can of course do this with a photo as well.

🙂well that it for now. hope you liked it thanks for reading now back to your regularly scheduled tgcg programming

[fanaticsnail]

hi sis can you write me a sanji fic pleaseeeeeee

One hurt/comfort Sanji fic here for you, Smol-Snail.

Limits

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 2,500+

Synopsis: Baratie has been overbooked, and the tension in the kitchen has been overwhelming. Being a hard-working kitchen hand, you have been covering far too many shifts. Sensing the overwhelm, your coworker attempts to aid you through your emotions.

Themes: Sanji x gn!reader, hurt/comfort, kitchen slang, eating food, minor swearing, fluff, angst, domesticity, hidden feelings, almost kisses, playful banter, nicknames.

Notes: Spoiling my sister usually includes Mihawk or Garp, but I am absolutely loving the change. Thanks for the ask, sis! Hope you like it. Also, gosh it's good to be back in Baratie again.

The crackle of water hitting a pan of hot oil popped and simmered, a string of curses and yells following the large rukkus. Voices overlapping, music blaring, orders expediting, and the clangs of silverware shuddering with ceramics in water continued to mute their tones in the air surrounding the lively kitchen of Baratie.

It had been a mean shift tonight. The restaurant was overbooked, over packed, and overwhelmed. Guests on the waiting list were made to wait longer than they had anticipated, adding to tempers flaring and temperaments turning foul on all sides. The front of house were begging with the back of house, the back of house pleading with the front of house. Chef Zeff had even jumped on the line, cooking alongside the lot of you to fight against the rush. The thump of his peg leg hitting the linoleum swelled within the serenade of the lively kitchen, the chorus finally rising without any indication of an interlude.

“Carne, 'hot behind', damn it!” Zeff growled angrily while standing to full stature. Carne was holding a tray of simmering desserts at chest height behind him while shifting from one surface to the other. “Communicate, kitchen. Ya’ hear?”

“Oui chef!” The kitchen all repeated the phrase like a prayer on their tongues to their hierarchical clergyman.

“Ca Marche-!”

“Sharps-!”

“Plate up-!”

“Push-!”

“To the pass-!”

“Through-!”

Sanji stalked through the rows up until the pass, pacing two and fro while jumping in to aid all those that needed support. Garnishing mains, whipping cream for desserts, assorting steel bowls of oils and accompaniments to coincide with breads and greens: Sanji did it all. Each time he stepped in to aid in the dance of the kitchen, his eyes fell to your frame to mentally check in.

Eyes down, shoulders hunched, rubber gloves thrust up to your elbows, you ensured the kitchen remained functional with the fluctuation of crockery, cutlery and dishes for truly impeccable service. The kitchen-hand, or 'Dish Pig', was the backbone to a functional restaurant, the mental wellbeing of the house truly on the shoulders of that individual.

How could a chef create masterpieces without a canvas? How could guests in the dining hall consume their delectable arrangements without the means to raise each bite to their lips? The kitchen-hand ensured all was possible, and the chefs barely paid you any heed while you slaved away to grant them relief in their supplies.

You attempted to hone in on your craft, using your fingernails beneath the rubber gloves to chip at caramelized and caked scorches on iron pots like a scourer. Breaths heavy and labored, you shifted everything from your focus asside from one thing and one thing only:

Keep the kitchen clean.

Bubbles and suds consumed your senses, your hair sticking to your forehead in heavy clumps of sweat and soap. Your nostrils flared with the burn of eucalyptus, lemon and menthol. Working a fortnight of splits and doubles to cover for your colleagues had finally taken its toll on you, and stressors in your personal life added to the tension in your bones. The loss on your own mentality began to slip into a panic as another wave of silverware made their way to your arm side.

The mention of, “‘Ere ye’ go, dish pig. Clean up,” barely phased you, regardless to the usual playful temperament you displayed. You didn't even crack the smile you usually had on your face, your permanent exhaustion falling in the emotionless and dead-stare you displayed down at the dish rack.

The kitchen has began to pack down. Each element was extinguished, and stock was taken alongside a final tally. The chefs had removed their aprons, cravats and hats and began making their way towards the bar for their knockoffs. Your own drink would have to wait, the pile never reducing no matter how hard you had worked.

For each plate you cleared and cleaned, four more would somehow find their way to your hands. Each pot would have a lid to match, each pan would have an array of spatula, tongs, and forks to pair with. The chefs used the tools of their artistry with reckless abandon, and it was now you who was paying the price for their carelessness.

“A'ight, beers? That what we're drinkin'?” Patty clapped his hands and rubbed them enthusiastically together. Carne barked out a long string of laughter, allowing himself to succumb to the relief that came from a grueling shift while he clapped his hand over Patty’s bicep.

“I'm keen on one of them steins we just got in,” he admitted, squeezing lightly before looking to Zeff, “Is that on the menu for knock offs, chef?”

“Only is if you save two for me, you prick,” Zeff stated affectionately, “Give us a pale or an amber, I'll be in my office takin’ a damn breath. What about you, little eggplant? What are you drinkin’ tonight?”

Sanji hadn't spoken a word since he hung up his apron. He had been keeping an eye on you throughout your shift, feeling the tension waft in your aura the longer you silently chipped away at your monotonous task.

“I'm gonna have a cigarette,” he nodded to the head chef without moving his eyes away from you. “Then I think I'll sample that new amaretto rum you got in.” Sanji moved to Zeff’s side, casually glancing back at you while lowering his tone to the head chef, “But first, I'm gonna stay here a while. Leave inventory to me, and I'll take care of it, old man.”

Zeff noticed the drop in Sanji’s usual cadence and finally took notice to the quiver in your shoulders. With a curt nod, Zeff turned to both Patty and Carne and spoke to them with a simple scowl that meant: ‘Get out of the kitchen, now’. The two chefs quickly looked between Zeff and Sanji, then to the source of the noise continuing to fall from the underappreciated corner of the kitchen. With a nod of their own, they silently excused themselves from the kitchen with Zeff trailing behind them.

Where Sanji would've placed an unlit cigarette between his teeth and stalked out behind them, he would never do that without you. Both of you were similar in ages, and the rapport and camaraderie had always been a highlight to his kitchen shifts. The two of you were more than coworkers, more than simple friends, and you both lived and breathed Baratie in your own ways. You both loved that place, thrived on the chaotic energy working the line, and adored spending time in the dark before the next shift would begin.

The only difference between you is Sanji had been working his usual shifts, and you had been overworked far beyond your natural capacity lately. You were running low on mental energy, and you were taking it out on the dishes you were cleaning.

Wiping, scrubbing, clawing, patting, drying, prying, stacking, and placing away in their delegated areas: you had not spoken a word for the whole shift. Nothing more than a soft, shaky breath expelling from an otherwise vacant expression, nobody would know if anything was occurring within the battle of your mind.

But Sanji did.

Unhooking his apron and rolling up the sleeves of his uniform jacket, he placed it over his neck and slowly moved over to work silently in an unoccupied station. Several containers of various raw ingredients were hastily removed from their spots. Pots, water, flours, sugars, utensils and plates were all set up by his skilled hands: making something of your youth that he knew would bring you comfort.

Rolling glutinous rice flour into small balls with regular flour and water, he stuffed them full of purple adzuki mix, hazelnut white chocolate, and yuzu-honey dew custard. Placing the small balls in a steamer, he set a mental timer to check on them after a few minutes. Not his usual method to make dango, but he wanted to experiment for you.

He knew better than to disturb you when you were like this, and he allowed you to work out whatever was brewing in your mind on the dishes you were cleaning. He looked to the bowls and dishes he had just made in crafting you something delectable and grimaced.

‘All of those dishes just to make a simple dessert,’ he mentally scolded himself, ‘And that's just one piece of the kitchen. You're taking care of everyone’s dishes here, not just the kitchen’s.’ He gently lifted the lid of the bamboo steamer to gauge the consistency of the circular treats, nodding to himself once he viewed the squishy exterior.

Plating up the dish by patting them dry and rolling them in rice flour, he softly approached you with the bowl of rainbow-colored treats.

You were in your own head, your thoughts swirling in a tight coil threatening to snap. This shift had been enough to break a seasoned kitchen hand, and you had endured it all with a silent professionalism. Just when you were about to begin the next wave of remaining dishes, you turned and met your eyes with a plate of rainbow and sunshine.

“Hands, chef. You need to eat something,” Sanji softly spoke, his usual smirk and cocky attitude fleeing his face. The replacement of his usual demeanor was something you hadn't experienced with him. His eyes were rounded, his lips softly pouring, his head was lowered and seeking out your gaze with his own, and his empathy was worn with each subtlety.

All in one fluid motion, your head hung low and your glove-covered hands shrouded your eyes from his gaze. At the same motion, Sanji placed the bowl down beside you and hastily drew you into an encumbering embrace. It had finally been too much for you, and this was the first breakdown you had ever had regarding a shift. Heavy sobs were muffled by your rubber-covered palms while Sanji cradled you in his arms.

“Hold onto me, love,” Sanji softly whispered into your ear. You immediately unburied your face within your palms and nuzzled into the blonde man’s neck, arms wrapping beneath his shoulders and clinging to him like a rope offered from a cliff’s edge. “There you go. Good job. Just hold on, okay?”

“S-Sanji?” you attempted to whimper out, only being met with a soft shush and a tighter hold on your form. He rose one arm up to remove your dark chef’s cap from your head and carded his hands over your scalp in a soft brush.

“You've been pushing too many doubles, and saying ‘yes’ a whole lot lately,” he gently soothed you, “And while I love this place as much as you and the old man, I know my limits.” He gently lifted his head to gaze down to where your head was nestled in his collar, “You just hit yours, didn't you?”

“First time since I started,” you whispered into his shirt, “I didn't think I had one ‘til now, Ji.” Your admission alongside his arms holding you firmly dried up your tears after the heavy release.

“Course you do. We all do,” his soft baritone gently coaxed you. You slowly raised your eyes to meet his. His smile was like sunshine after a storm, warmth following a heavy winter, hope where hopelessness was found mere minutes prior, and a sanctuary found after a season of war.

When he looked at you, you felt like the most important person in the world. Time stood still in that moment, eyes darting between one another's and gently focussing briefly on the other’s lips. The close proximity you found yourself in was not unfamiliar to you, but this emotion swelling was far greater than you had anticipated. Sanji made to lean towards you, halting mid-way and second guessing himself from giving you the kiss he truly wanted. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours in a gentle seal of friendship.

Noses flush with one another’s, you both closed your eyes and dwelled in the silence for a moment. Nothing else was heard: no yells in the kitchen, no music from the dining room, no yells from your coworkers, and no demands from the patrons in the hall. All that was heard was the small thump of your heartbeat in your ears, and your shared breaths gently soothing one another in unison.

“I made you dango,” Sanji uttered softly, making no move to part from you.

“Thank you, Ji,” you expressed your gratitude just as softly.

“And while you eat, I'll finish up on the dishes,” he scrunched his nose playfully, moving away from your head and slowly releasing you from his embrace, “Then we can go and have a knock off. I'll have one of the bar staff take your shift tomorrow- And before you interrupt-!”

Sanji knew you all too well, halting your interjection before you had an opportunity to speak it out with a harsh expression.

“-I know it's a 'double split'. That's a four person job, and I know exactly the four people to do it,” he finally withdrew his arms from your shoulders and soothed your upper arms with a firm caress. “Now, hand over those gloves. I made a right mess cooking you your sweets, and I'm going to see to it that it's spotless while you eat.”

You slowly removed your arms from his body, halting them briefly on his hips while you bowed your head in gratitude.

“Oui, chef,” you huffed out in a bid to add humor to the scenario. Releasing him from your grasp, you began to remove your rubber gloves and hang them over the steel railing beside the sink.

Sanji slid his hands from your shoulders, his right hand moving to gently tap your chin up with his index finger. Following his motions, you met your eyes with his once more, offering him a small smile after the exhaustion of emotional release.

“‘Oui Chef’?” he gently teased you, his eyes playfully narrowing in his jest, “Hush, you. Now go eat your dango and tell me what you like about it. We got sweet red bean, white chocolate hazelnut, and citrus-melon mouse in the centers.”

Your eyes bloomed with a wave of gratitude, Sanji’s understanding washing from his aura and consuming you within his single glance. The only thing to break your joint hypnosis with the scent of the sweetness atop the bench, you bobbed your head a final time to your coworker and dearest friend.

You moved to sit by the sink on a wooden stool, plonking down and resting your worn feet with the plate sat in your lap. Head slumping on the steel bench, you close your eyes and raise one of the squishy spheres to your lips.

Placing the entire blob into your mouth, the center burst on impact of the clamp of your teeth. The flavors erupted over your palate, your emotions once again being forced to the surface at his thoughtfulness. Each tartness was compensated by the sweetness it needed, the sours holding a balance of soft umami to prolong the dance over your tongue.

Watching from the corner of his eye while elbows deep in the sink, Sanji smiled at the encounter, truly pleased that he could offer you that sense of comfort after a grueling few weeks. Each bite you took of his mastery had his heart swell. Knowing he could do this for you, take a piece of that burden away from you and give you some joy to focus on: that was all he ever craved in return from you.

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