LEMON CAKES.

nazanin "naz" gordon. twenty-three. the romantic.

[sleevcdhearts]

                 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 ♦ 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 ♦ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

 ( maddison jaizani, cis woman (she/her), muse o )  oh snap! is that NAZANIN GORDON-ZARE? they work over at high volume where some of the other employees have labeled them as THE ROMANTIC. that’s probably because they can be a bit ( GENUINE ) but also pretty ( QUIXOTIC ) they’re 23  and they’ve been living in woodstock for TWO WEEKS. it must be their shift because i totally hear CHRISTINA AGUILERA blasting from the record store.) @VOLUMEUPDATES

( aesthetics: cotton candy lips. the waft of freshly baked goods, cookie cutter hearts. misty mirror notes for one night stands. baby pink bullet vibrators. poems from lovers untouched and lives unlived)

          𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 (𝐒𝐇𝐄/𝐇𝐄𝐑), 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄, 𝐆𝐌𝐓

[sleevcdhearts]

stonerisms​:

“ NOTED, ”   his brows raise curiously in response, and whether they’re talking about the heart or the star right now, eric’s not entirely sure. he just likes the quickness of the conversation, talking to someone at volume that isn’t looking at him like he has three heads. he likes the record store, sure, but socially eric’s a NEWB and it shows. some employees he gets along with more than others, but it is a bit of an adjustment for him to mold into the little clique the store formed, having to get used to not being at the center orbit of anything going on. but he likes working with naz, two newbs who can fuck around in the backroom of the store without feeling like he’ll get in trouble, because her mom’s the one signing his paycheck.   “ should i blame the leprechaun for that ? ”   he makes a face, but it doesn’t stick to that expression for long, entertained by the way she grabs a cigarette. first her boobs, now her mouth—she’s making it hard for him NOT to stare.   “ can’t i be a gentleman in crime ? ”   his lips curve, eyes flickering back up to her gaze.   “ you don’t really strike me as the type that needs to be trained in shenanigans. you into partying ? ”

gentleman in crime. she turns the phrase over in her mind, decides she enjoys the sound of it. enjoys him, come to think of it. there’s an innate lightness to their interactions - and whilst it doesn’t feel completely easy, what does, with her? naz tugs down on the lighter, strikes the cigarette, inhales deeply. there’s a ticking time bomb on them now. she offers it to him gently, inclines her head, in a way she hopes signals sexy. “you could say i’ve done my fair share of partying.” college wasn’t so long ago - and who needs to know what’s subsided since then. so what if they were mostly frat bros and sorority chicks. it counts. “you fancy showing me the scene around here then?”

[sleevcdhearts]

martytsui​:

“you should come to any festival with me, then. i’ve a habit of punching assholes at those.” marty smirks, not even trying to hide her pride. then, marty stops what she’s doing, looking at naz. eyes are wide and the words that escape them after are dramatised, seeling the joke. “wait. have you — please tell me you’ve not, like, done a line of flour to pretend it was cocaine.” it’s a dramatic thing, the way marty says it, face overtly serious but a laugh wanting to bubble just underneath their expression. they’re not even trying that hard not to show the amusement in their eyes.

“i’ve been told i have an excellent swing.” naz nods solemnly, blurring the distinction between truth and lie. they were referring to her tap sequence - but no need for marty to know this. no, marty is punk, marty is cool. unhinged violence is flavour of the season. gesturing for the brunette to stop kneading, naz pushes the bowl towards them; trying to buy time. the truth is - she and a college crush once substituted cocaine for flour and tricked a bunch of frat boys into believing they were high. her mind deliberates between the truth and a more elaborate lie, before eventually deciding the real account is badass enough. “not me. i did trick a bunch of frat guys once though. was like taking candy from a baby.”

[sleevcdhearts]

dvrtbags​:

“we have very different ideas of dates,” is dean’s reply, thinking back to their own past of having first kisses in shitty parking lots, mild robbery and vandalising the walls of their high school. looking back at naz, dean highly doubts that the girl has been anywhere near such a realm of delinquency. oh well - culture shock then. “dean. and you should tell me your name because i know everyone in this shitty town, but not you.”

“okay. well you can plan the second then.” nazanin isn’t sure where this sudden burst of confidence comes from. something is blooming inside of her, something bold, bright - dangerous? soft things can have edges too. she’s come too far to turn back now, realises she doesn’t want to. forward, with dean, feels nice. “nazanin.” she counters. “but everyone calls me naz.”

[sleevcdhearts]

shapiros​:

– SHE CAN FEEL NAZ’S EYES ON HER, WATCHING, and she bristles. blair doesn’t know how to be studied, it always feels like someone’s looking for CRACKS. and yeah, maybe she’s projecting, but it doesn’t change the fact that naz makes her sort of nervous – which had been exciting that first night in the bar, electric even, but afterward is where you create distance. naz doesn’t seem to get that. blair selects an album from the velvet underground and pushes play on the stereo. she snorts at naz’s bluntness, then grins, “ oh, no, i don’t do that. i’m not looking for a fuckbuddy, ” she says, firm rejection. sharp blue eyes finally look up to meet the warmth of naz’s brown ones, struck by how kind they are despite the topic of conversation. “ and, no offense, you seem like the type to get attached. ” 

attachment. naz turns the word over in her mind, imagines a red ribbon running between their little fingers; linking them together until bound. blair is hardly the first girl, first person, she’s let trample her thoughts; but infatuation is always strongest when the object of your desire is present. vacantly, naz registers the sound of music playing. she wrinkles her nose. “what are you looking for then?” she probes, genuinely curious. i’ll become whoever you want, is left unsaid. “i’m brand new.” naz counteroffers, barely affronted by the insult. “how could you know?” 

[sleevcdhearts]

crmsns​:

jennifer’s kid. christian was no math whiz, but he knew jennifer was supposed to bring some family with her, and he didn’t need to crunch the numbers to connect the dots. he stopped himself from raising a brow, but his posture did shift ever-so-slightly. probably a good idea to say on the boss’s kid’s good side.

“what does that make you, his second cousin or something?” he tried to crack. the joke was bland, but his effort showed through the slight upturn at the corner of his lip. a smile spared for nazanin gordon. “welcome to woodstock, then. hope we don’t bore you to death too soon.”

cute and he was clueless when it came to biology. stopping herself from sighing wistfully at the last moment - and resisting the temptation to tip chin into hands - naz shook herself out of her daydream qualities, laughing musically at his joke. and that smile. she’d do all sorts of things to chase that smile. “niece, actually. jennifer is my mom. i know. promise i’m not a teacher’s pet?” adamantly, naz shook her head. “i can’t see myself getting bored around you.”

[sleevcdhearts]

mvxsinc​:

     IT’S  BEYOND  MAX  HOW  ANYONE  CAN  MEET  NAZ  and  not  be  immediately  smitten.  it  had  taken  her  no  time  at  all,  no  effort,  not  even  a  single  thought,  for  max  to  realize  that  this  was  a  girl  who’d  find  a  way  to  her  heart  no  matter  how  this  played  out.  she’s  already  lost  so  many  there  is  no  way  she’s  putting  up  walls  now  —  and  leaving  the  door  open  has  never  felt  as  safe  as  it  does  with  naz.  «  well,  like  mother  like  daughter  then,  »  max  raises  her  cup  in  salutation.  «  can’t  say  i’m  not  jealous.  my  mom  wants  to  disown  me  every  time  i  look  at  a  bottle  of  alcohol.  »  maybe  she’s  oversharing,  one  of  her  few  talents,  but  it  doesn’t  feel  like  such  a  bad  talent  to  have.  somehow  it  feels  as  if  anything  max  says,  naz  already  knows.  «  i  bet  growing  up  with  jennifer  was  great.  »

“ooh, is she churchy?” naz has always thought that people are puzzles, each made up of a dozen or more little pieces, constructed into a whole that doesn’t make sense until you have turned each square over in your hand. to know someone, you need to uncover each and every piece. some give them away faster than others. naz knows, deep down, she should keep tighter hold of hers; but something about max unwinds her. “she was a lot more PTA mom until the divorce. very bake sale chic.”

[sleevcdhearts]

jcmiesingh​:

jamie nods, arms folding over his chest as he tries to figure out what to make of his cousin. rather than being the goody-two-shoes he expected, naz seems more eager to walk on the wild side, or to just be seen as cool and interesting. he supposes it’s kind of working, since he’s still standing her having a conversation with her. not to mention the fact that she clearly wants to bond with him. jamie, on the other hand, has never really felt that blood ties mean anything on their own. but he has nothing to gain from being rude to naz, either. in fact, all the better if he can get both of his cousins to be allied with him, when push comes to shove. “welcome to the world of day-drinkers, then. what’s your verdict on it?”

“well it’s no bottomless brunch.” the words slip out without meaning to - and it takes all of naz not to clasp her hands over her mouth; the sheer privilege of it all. she doubts woodstock has even heard of brunch, let alone adding alcohol to it. pivoting as quickly as possible - given she literally encouraged her mom to rob jamie of his inheritance - naz gulps her coffee. “i mean, we could always use more.”

[sleevcdhearts]

dvrtbags​:

it’s actually kind of endearing. dean’s eyebrows raise and they throw her a grin. “is this our first date?” they tease. “y’know. i usually know the other person’s name before i agree to things like this. do you even know mine?” dean hopes not. 

“it’s only a date if we go for one shake, two straws. like lady and the tramp, but with liquids.” naz is having to stop herself from blushing now. she’s like a rose, blooming under the first rays of love. little does she know what dean has in store for her. “no, but i bet it’s cute.”

[sleevcdhearts]

stonerisms​:

LIPS TWIST TOGETHER AS ERIC CONSIDERS IT, more thought than he’s put into his shift so far today.   “ probably the star, ”   he decides, with a concrete nod.   “ though some people might guess the heart, since i’m so lovable. ”   definitely nobody outside his mother has ever called him that, but that’s the nice thing about talking to a newcomer in town :   eric has the rare chance to make his own impression on them.   “ let me guess… you’re the rainbow ? ”   eyes narrow lightly as he looks at her, as if he can sense it on her aura. her little move makes him laugh, making a show to keep his eyes peeled on the ceiling like a good boy—though when he can see from his peripherals something else getting pulled out of there, how can he not look ?   “ even better than pulling a rabbit out of a hat, ”   he laughs, having not taken her for a smoker.   “ i mean, as opposed to what ?   pulling a toothbrush out of there ? ”   catching her eye, a smile tugs at his lips before he takes a long, meaningful sip of his coffee cup.   “ i wouldn’t dream of it, ”   he says finally, once he’s stopped.   “ i’m a gentleman, naz. ”

stars don’t shine as bright as you. the concluding line of a thirteen year old’s poem - that thirteen year old being herself, struck by a crush for the very first time. they come to naz unbidden now, although she knows better than to utter them. “mmm...” she scrunches her nose, pretends to consider his words. “i’ll be the judge of that.” so far, naz agrees; eric has done nothing but cast her life with excitement and light. “probably,” she laughs, “although there’s no pot of gold down my bra. unfortunately.” eager to impress, she puts the packet to her lips, wiggles one out with her tongue and sticks in between. naz reckons she has approximately two minutes after lighting before the smoke alarm goes off - but that’s cool, right? “are you now?” she asks, in a tone that suggests she knows he’s not. “here i had you down as the guy who was going to train me as a partner in crime.”

[sleevcdhearts]

mvxsinc​:

     WHILST  MAX  STILL  DOESN’T  KNOW  HOW  to  really  interact  with  mira  or  jen  yet,  her  chemistry  with  naz  is  instant,  the  type  of  which  max  has  only  ever  really  felt  once  before  (  a  name  comes  to  mind,  but  she  doesn’t  know  how  to  utter  it  without  grief  just  yet  ).  instead  she  locks  eyes  with  her  new  friend,  enamored  and  frightened  by  naz’s  sudden  proposition.  max  reaches  for  the  flask,  snapping  it  out  of  naz’s  hand  abruptly,  scared  someone  will  notice.  «  naz  !  »  she  exclaims  in  a  whisper,  but  though  her  voice  sounds  accusing  max  is  sporting  a  smile  of  approval.  days  are  long  and  shifts  repetitive  —  besides,  they  deserve  some  fun.  «  you’re  always  tempting,  »  she  reassures,  pouring  just  a  small  shot  into  her  coffee,  the  beverage  smelling  more  inviting  instantly.  «  but  just  so  we’re  clear,  you’re  taking  the  fall  if  your  mother  busts  us.  »  as  if  max  would  allow  it  in  the  first  place.

there are friendly faces and there are the sceptics - and then there is max, who can’t be a home - not yet, not this soon - but who feels like the foundations of one; every conversation a brick that will build their shelter. there’s something about her - some vestige of familiarity, in her words, in her comfort. naz likes this side of her too, troublemaker, moodbringer. “puh-lease, where do you think i got this from in the first place?” from their liquor cabinet rather than a desk drawer, but naz fears the divide is crumbling. “she’s a cool mom.” naz adds, heavy on the scare quotes. 

[sleevcdhearts]

shapiros​:

– BLAIR DOESN’T LOOK UP, but her eyebrows arch ever-so-slightly with a sort of bemusement. “ hm, ” she says this with an air of disinterest, “ that so ? ” as if she isn’t the very definition of the ‘wrong people.’ tongue pokes out from between her lips in focus as she flips through a couple more cds, taking her time before she looks up at naz with a wry grin on her lips, taking a moment to soak in the irony before she vocalizes it : “ well, that explains why you keep following me around. ” she sidesteps naz, bodies flush together for only a second as she heads to the other side of the counter to collect another stack of music. obviously, it’s this sort of flirting that brought them together in the first place, but already, she can tell that starry-eyed pink-lipped naz is too proper and pretty for any real bond to form. her shoes are so shiny they’re literally blinding, for starters – the very reason blair had kicked her out before pillow talk. “ it figures, though. you strike me as a total goody-two-shoes. you wouldn’t have the agency to break the rules on your own, probably too busy … doing flips for the footballers or some shit. ” 

opposites attract. naz wonders, wholeheartedly, whether anyone ever told blair that. whether anyone ever showed blair that - chemistry can be black and white, sweet and salty, angel and demon. chemistry is bone deep, not skin. she wonders, in between blushes and heart tremors, whether she’ll be the one to teach blair that. where’s the fun in a love story that begins with forever? naz studies blair carefully, every gesture, every word. she memorises them, a stolen secret to be studied later. eventually, the trance breaks. she shrugs, trying nonchalance on. it’s a poor fit. “dunno, guess you’ll have to sleep with me again to know just how bendy i can be.” 

[sleevcdhearts]

martytsui​:

🎸

marty looks at naz. pummel it, those words repeat themselves inside marty’s mind. their eyebrows furrow. “so, just…” she feigns a punch as she looks at the dough again and there’s only one face that comes to mind. if she does anything to it with his face in mind, that will be a door that can never be closed again. “i mean, what has this dough ever done to ya?” marty jokes and erases every intention of actually imagining a face. but still, they pummel it, exactly as naz tells them. “this is actually nice. who woulda thought.” it’s a low musing, spoken before marty’s attention is back on naz. “do you do this a lot? baking, i mean. not the… telling people to imagine someone else’s face as a way of gettin’ them to bake.” even though it’s an amazing selling point.

“oh no, usually i advocate for actual violence.” the quip rolls off of naz’s tongue without thinking, a devious smile and glint of otherworldly vengeance sparkling in her eye. she’s got freshman drama to thank for that. and her extra ass pisces sun. nodding in approval as marty continues to knead, naz shrugs. “i think there’s something beautiful about baking. i mean, flour is usually only good as rip-off fake cocaine. but add it to butter, sugar and eggs...something new.”

[sleevcdhearts]

dvrtbags​:

thank god for naz. dean’s pleasantly surprised at how easily this plan is going to work; they hadn’t really had a preference on which sibling to go for as a stepping stone to get back into volume, but they are instantly glad that they saw naz around town first before their sibling. “i don’t know - i feel lactose intolerant people will put up with the shits for this kind of milkshake,” dean snorts, and then stops abruptly. right. flirting. the type of flirting that probably doesn’t involve talking about shitting. “ah, you’re going to make me self-conscious of wrinkles now.”

“i mean, i’m personally relieved to have healthy bowel habits.” once again, naz speaks without thinking, clasps a hand over her mouth and another over her eyes, peeking to see whether the strange is the least bit amused. it doesn’t seem dire, so she feels her fingers away; one by one. “not a single wrinkle.” naz declares, fingers picking at the menu’s frayed edges now. “although, maybe we’ll get them, the longer we wait to order these milkshakes...if you - er - you know - wanna join me for one?”

[sleevcdhearts]

shapiros​:

– BLAIR SHIFTS SLIGHTLY UNDER THE WEIGHT OF NAZ’S GAZE. it’s knowing, the gaze of someone who’s seen her between sheets, back arched and voice full of longing. but it doesn’t really KNOW anything, nothing about her beyond that. and blair’s new year’s resolutions are pretty simple : no more double-dipping. resisting the urge to flirt back is easier said than done, mostly because naz’s presence is fun and light, but blair remembers that beyond the softness of the way she kisses … she doesn’t know her either. the glance she throws back is compulsory, but void of strong emotion, “ you could say that, ” she agrees, corner of her lip twitching upward in restrained amusement, “ smoking under them, at least. making out was for the supply closet. ” glimmer of mischief in her eye as she goes back to pretending to sort cds. “ and what about you ? would i have seen you in detention ? ” 

you know, there’s a supply closet here too. the words are dancing on the tip of her tongue. it would be so easy, devastatingly easy in fact, to close the distance between them, yank blair by the hand and ravish her behind locked doors. it’s a modicum of self respect that stops naz from doing so, keeps her feet rooted - if not her head, which is flying in the clouds. she purses her lips, pretending to consider blair’s question. the simple answer is no. she was all yearbook and spring musicals, had a season shaking her pom-poms and another hiding out in the library. naz never sniffed at detention. but that’s no fun. “sure,” she shrugs, acting nonchalant. “i have a pretty good nose for sniffing out the wrong people and letting them tempt me into trouble.”

[sleevcdhearts]

martytsui​:

🎸

marty scoffs, amused. “i can’t believe i actually relate to a colander. damn, that’s a new low.” it’s a joke, mostly, said with a smirk as she turns around to open the cabinet and look for a bowl — after all, marty’s not at all unaware they’re fucked up in a way that feels too out of reach to fix. “there you go,” she says, putting the bowl on a counter that will definitely be left too messy for an hour too long, “does that one work?” and then they can’t help but let out a short-lived chuckle. “am i really that predictable? because you’re completely right, i’ll definitely enjoy punching the dough. now, what do i have to do?”

feel like there are therapists who can offer similar comparisons. the retort is almost slips past her filter, before naz remembers that people aren’t muses, or characters in play. when you break things, they can’t necessarily be fixed. instead, she triumphantly sprinkles more flour over the surface, blows the excess into the air and slides the dough towards marty. “pummel it. pretend it’s an enemy’s face or something.”

[sleevcdhearts]

stonerisms​:

“ OH, DEFINITELY, ”   eric nods enthusiastically.   “ i bet that poor bastard names the lucky charms in his sleeps. heart, stars and horseshoes… ”   he starts to mimic in a poor irish accent, pumping his eyes like an overenthusiastic cereal cartoon. however much that poor leprechaun gets paid, it’s not nearly enough. the male’s eyes watch hungrily as the flask teases his mug, letting out a scoff before the liquid finally starts to flow.   “ thank you, ”   he sighs contently, letting her pour however much she’s willing to part with before bringing the mug back to his hands. eric flashes her a grin at the comment—artful dodger—despite not getting the reference. he’ll take it as a compliment, anyway.   “ love the accent, ”   he laughs, taking a sip of his drink.   “ hiding anything else in there ? ”   he can’t help but ask, nodding towards where she pulled the flask out of in the first place.   “ i’d be impressed if there was a full bar. ”

“tag yourself. are you a heart, star, or horseshoe?” there’s something comforting about their constant stream of conversation, silver tongues leave no room for thoughts to settle, or melancholy to set in. alcohol, naz decides, will only improve their fortunes, will set them free. she pours until the flask begins to feel lighter than it is full, feels his eyes on her as she delicately tucks the flask between the folds of her shirt. at his question, she arches her spine, leans back; prevents him from peaking. it’s a rehearsed move, she’s seen every heroine in every 90s romcom do it a hundred times. cher horowitz eat your heart out. silently, she tucks her hand into her right cup, draws out the moment, extracts a crumpled pack of camels and hot pink lighter. “just vice after vice, i guess.” then, cocking her head, she bats her eyes. “are you asking if there’s room for a whole bar?”