#it’s something you see in fiction too much

[wososcripts]

Face to Face (Part 1)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

Summary: After months of a toxic back and forth with Frido, things reach a breaking point.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I know it's been forever but that's what being a full time uni student will do! I hope you all enjoy this fic as much as I do, its been a wip for a while now!

As usual this is all fiction and in good fun! Nothing is meant to represent reality. All italicized dialogue is in a language other than English, and I promise... things will get better in this fic eventually.

Warnings⚠️: unhealthy situationship lol, injury, light medical description

"Get out!" You screamed, repeating it over and over until you were alone in your bedroom.

You hated yelling. Absolutely hated it. You couldn't remember the last time before today that you had actually yelled in someone's face. Plenty of people in your sport lost their tempers and shouted on the pitch—whether at a ref or another player—but it wasn’t your style. You always managed to keep your cool. It was your sport, yes, but not your life.

You'd been yelled at too much as a child to think it had any productive effect on a situation, which may have been part of why you immediately felt horrible once Fridolina left the room. You pulled your comforter around your half-naked form, wishing you were less exposed.

This was the end. Whatever you and Fridolina had, it was over. Finally.

You'd been trying to build up the will to make this happen for weeks, and yet your heart felt like it was being strangled with every moment you sat here alone. The worst part was, you knew Fridolina didn't care. She was probably angry, sure, but she was not feeling the heartbreak you were.

You weren't sure how you were going to make it through the next few days. You had to fly to Germany tomorrow for national camp—and then on Friday you were playing Sweden in a friendly. It was hard to imagine that you had been excited to get the news about the friendly last month. It meant you got to be around Frido more, got to see a few of your old teammates from Chelsea like Magda and Zećira, and you genuinely enjoyed being around the German girls. It was still home to you, there, even if you hadn't played for a German league in nearly a decade.

Now you just wanted to stay in Barcelona while Frido left. You wanted to call Alexia, or Patri, and ask them to come over and comfort you. You wanted Patri’s jokes and Alexia’s solid presence, but you were afraid of the questions they might ask. Your eyes were red now, tears running down your face, and your room was a mess. Everything had a trace of Frido, and you hated it.

Ingrid and Mapí, who you would usually call if you wanted to get your mind off of things, weren’t an option either. Though you were fairly certain they wouldn’t ask any pressing questions, Ingrid was Frido’s best friend. And that made her off limits for now, for anything regarding this.

You just had to make it through the night, and the next morning. Then you could collapse into the familiar arms of your national teammates, your family, your language, and try to forget all about this.

—

Your mother knew something was off the second you appeared on her doorstep, Laura in tow.

She wrapped her arms firmly around you, holding you tight for a minute. It had been three months since you were home for Christmas, and you hadn’t seen each other since then. You melted into her, wanting nothing more than the comfort of her protective embrace after all that had been swimming around your head lately.

Your mother greeted Laura next, and you were instructed to bring your bags up to the guest room. You’d have to share, but it wasn’t all that big of an issue. You and Laura often shared rooms when you were at national camp anyway, so this wouldn’t be much different.

“Wie ist Barcelona? Gefällt es? ” Laura asked you quietly that night, rolling over in the bed to face you.

It was late, too late to still be up. Tomorrow you’d have to be at training bright and early.

“I love it there.”

Something about your voice must have been off, because Laura stayed silent. You knew she fretted over you. She was protective too, something you experienced first hand when people were rough with you on the field—Laura hated most of your exes too. You’d known each other since secondary school, when you were barely tall enough to reach the top of your lockers.

“I’ve always wondered if it’s difficult, fitting in with the Spanish girls…”

“And I’m shy, which doesn’t make it easier.”

Laura laughed lightly.

“Well I wasn’t going to say anything!”

You poked her side playfully, and smiled.

“They’re all very welcoming. It can be intimidating when you don’t speak Spanish at first, but I’m pretty good now so I don’t have many issues.”

Laura began playing with strands of your long hair, putting it in small braids.

“What is it, Lau?”

“I can tell something is bothering you. In your texts, the way you looked when I picked you up at the airport, something is off.”

You weren't sure what to say. Laura didn't know anything about you and Frido. Nobody did. You'd have to explain the whole thing, start to finish. You'd have to explain why you stayed even when she treated you like garbage. Why you made excuses for her, compromised things you told yourself you wouldn't.

"It's hard to explain…" you mumbled.

Laura continued to play with your hair, pushing a few wisps back from your forehead.

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

You needed an ally in this, you realized. Desperately.

"Just be prepared, it's kind of a long story."

And so you launched into how you and Frido had been attracted to each other immediately when she was playing at Bayern and you were at Frankfurt. How you had danced around each other when you were signed in Barcelona. How she kissed you one day after a game, before she was even out of her relationship, and then ignored you for weeks—a pattern you didn't realize was going to dominate your life for the next year.

By the end you were crying. You hadn't cried in so long it felt foreign. Everything had been building up for months and nobody had been there to help you carry the weight of it until that moment.

Laura pulled you into her arms, rubbing your back in soothing circles as you sobbed into her neck.

"It's okay, you're okay," she whispered.

"I feel like a fucking idiot."

"She's the idiot for treating you like that, not you. Not you at all." Laura looked at you sternly. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that all by yourself…"

You snuggled closer to her and kept quiet.

"If you need someone to accidentally slide tackle her on Monday let me know…" Laura teased.

You giggled into her hair, and she couldn't help but smile in return.

-

You were nervous. Typically friendlies didn't worry you much, but you didn't want to see Fridolina. You had been playing well in training sessions, but your teammates could tell something was on your mind.

"Hey—" Sara's voice broke you out of your thoughts. The two of you had played together at Frankfurt for a little while, and she was like an older sister to you. She placed both her hands on your cheeks and pressed her forehead to yours. "Whatever it is, put it out of your mind. Leave it here and just play. Just for a few hours."

You closed your eyes and listened to her, letting her voice ground you. You squeezed her hands and nodded. Just a few hours. Then you could avoid Frido for an entire week before you had to fly back to Barcelona.

You assumed your position on the pitch, the roar of the German fans filling your ears. That was the benefit of playing at home. You spotted a few of the Swedish girls you knew: Magda, Zećira, Stina, and Rebecca. All of whom gave you small smiles.

In the few seconds before the match began you closed your eyes, counting down from seven as you always did before a match. Then the whistle blew and you began.

It was a tough match between the two teams. Where the Germans were weak the Swedish girls pounced, and vice versa. You were constantly fighting for the ball, the defenders packed onto you. Stina was the first to score, slipping the ball into the box amidst a chaotic mess just the way she was good at.

From there on out you were determined to score. You were playing all out, more than necessary really. It was a throwaway game, but you just had to get a point on the board.

When your quick pass to Lena had the ball soaring into the back of the net you thought you might explode from joy. You jumped into her arms, letting her twirl you around, laughing. In your head you might as well have won the Olympics.

At halftime it was still 1-1. Your heart was pounding. Laura made you drink some of your water, massaging your shoulders in an effort to get you to calm down. Popp was side eyeing you, considering pulling you out. This behavior wasn't like you.

The second half was considerably more intense than the first. Both teams wanted to score, and the more physical players on both sides were pushing hard. It was a miracle nobody had been carded.

And then suddenly you had the ball at your feet. There was a golden opportunity in front of you. Eyes facing forward, you raced down the pitch, completely blindsided to the weight that slammed into from the side. Suddenly the world went sideways and you were slamming into the ground, not enough time to even think about trying to catch yourself. Your hip and shoulder took most of the initial impact, but something about how you'd been standing, or how you'd been hit, meant your head followed, hitting the ground with a resounding thud.

You came to a few seconds later. Someone was kneeling next to your head, and their hands were on your cheeks.

Fuck. Everything hurt. You kept your eyes closed, thinking maybe that would lessen the next wave of pain you knew was coming. At first you weren't sure what had happened.

"Are you okay?" You heard Zećira's voice in your ear.

"Zećira?" You mumbled. "What happened?"

"You went down and hit your head."

You had gone down near the goal, that was right. Things were a bit blurry. You figured it was a bad idea to move your neck, what with the severe headache you could feel blossoming, and opening your eyes seemed to run the 50/50 chance of you vomiting.

"Do you remember that now? Do you feel okay?"

So you gave her a weak thumbs up, hoping it was clear you needed the medics.

After a moment in which you gathered your resolve and swallowed your nausea, you opened your eyes. There was Zećira looking worriedly down at you. She glanced upwards, probably at the medical team that was surely coming.

"Fuck, fuck…" you heard another voice, those of your German teammates beginning to filter into your awareness. And further away, the sharp sound of yelling.

The medical team finally arrived, clearing the space around you. Your hand shot out, grabbing onto Zećira's you gave her a look that said it all. Fear and panic met in equal amounts as she squeezed your hand lightly.

"You're gonna be okay, älskling, everything is gonna be alright." If anything, her tone scared you even more. You knew Zećira, and she wasn't someone you would describe as warm and cuddly. For her to be using that tone with you meant something had gone wrong.

"Okay, we're gonna sit you up now." The medic warned you, and you felt two pairs of hands rest on your body, one on the back of your neck, slowly pull you upright.

Your nausea came back in full swing, and you fought to keep your breakfast in.

"Can you hear me?" You nodded.

"Can you understand what I'm saying?" You nodded again, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Can you squeeze my hand?" You squeezed his hand tightly.

"Okay, I'm gonna shine this light in your eyes for a moment, can you try and follow it for me?" You did your best, but it wasn't easy.

"Okay," he put the light away and you thanked whatever God in the universe for that. "We think it's likely you have a pretty bad concussion. We'll have to run a few more tests to be sure, but she definitely has to come off."

He must've been talking to your coach at that point, because the next thing you knew Zećira and the medic were helping you up to your feet, the man supporting you heavily with your arms draped across his shoulders.

"I'll visit you after the match, okay?" You heard Zećira assure you, to which you gave another thumbs up.

You cringed slightly at the sound of the crowd cheering you off.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #fridolina rolfö #fridolina rolfo x reader #fridolina rolfö x reader #barca femini x reader #my writing #fc barcelona x reader

[seat-safety-switch]

You've heard of range anxiety, of course. Lots of folks upset about how many miles their theoretical electric car can "do," when they haven't left their city for sixteen years. What my neighbours have to be worried about is strange anxiety, which is to say all the bullshit I stole when the abandoned Tesla factory's fence got cut by those raiders.

Back in the day, hot rodders used to build their cars out of leftover military gear. Once World War II was over, nobody wanted all these cool machines lying around, and the governments of the world had not yet invented China to send their garbage to. Belly tanks. Supply truck axles. Superchargers. All this glorious stuff was just free for the gettin', and gettin' the newly-minted middle class did, stuffing it into their weird shitboxes and then driving around with way too much power and too little understanding of mortality. So it is today.

You see, everything in the entire world has a lithium-ion battery in it. Vapes. Flashlights. Those boxes at the mall that shock people back to life who had a heart attack at the cost of grapes. And folks just chuck this stuff into a pile when something small happens: maybe they don't like the colour anymore, a thinner version came out, or it had a little tiny eenie-weenie baby fire. All those good batteries, these power-dense miracles that would have been science fiction a decade ago, just going to waste.

All this is to say when you see me blowing down the street in a hacked-up Model T, above three Tesla axles, with the rumble seat entirely stuffed with bodge-wired vape batteries, make sure to at least admire the amount of work that went into making all this garbage usable again. And, if it's not too much of a problem for you, please make sure to buy fire extinguishers that are electrical-safe. None of that hose shit anymore, please, it just spreads the flames. We're in the future.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Food for thought for sub Boothill: wireplay!

Mechanic reader who helps with repairs all up inside him and maybe an update has him tingle each time they touch his wires, or graze his ports, or the potential opportunities 🤤

I only did minor researches about cyborgs to have a basic understanding, so most of the things I write down will be purely fiction. Also sorry that it turned out as angst instead of NSFW :(

Feel free to ask for a second part to make up for it

Warning: (a little) angst, we are screwing around

Boothill had hinted at the fact that he can’t feel with his mechanical body parts for a while now. For him, who has been like this for so long, one would think he had gotten used to it. Yet that wasn’t the case. Were you to ask him if it bothered him, he’d answer no without an ounce of hesitation. This used to be the truth, until he fell for you. In other words, if you were to ask him the same question now, the response would be much more heartbreaking.

To get a simple comparison, it was as if your body didn’t belong to you. Despite him technically being able to do anything, it felt as if he couldn’t at the same time. Serving as an echo and reminder of his hopelessness prior to gaining this body. It was only a small price to pay considering the sin he committed by being the sole survivor, his path of revenge was fuelled with nothing but pure rage. A second life, filled with endless possibilities, at the loss of his own humanity, not the worst of his sacrifices.

The most regrettable change he had to undergo was the loss of sensation. Everyday, a numbness that wouldn’t vanish engulfed him from the bottom to his shoulders, pretty much mirroring his inner emotions. How losing the sense of touch could throw one into a deep abyss of endless emptiness was unimaginable. To think this would have such a huge consequence on his psyche was unpredictable, he believed it wouldn’t come this far, since he still could feel from his shoulders up to his head. He was horribly wrong.

Whenever you embraced him, some kind of guilt mixed with adoration would eat away at him. Boothill craved your touch, more than that he wanted to feel your warmth when he hugs you, not just the cold iron. At the same time he wished you’d find someone else. Staying by his side would only bring problems, considering the high bounty on his head. You deserved it, you deserved so much better than this icy, robotic body of his. Sometimes his true thoughts would slip out and he’d accidentally tell you how it’s a pity he can’t feel anything. Soon after he’d chuckle and tell you not to worry about it, as well as how he’s grateful for his current life, since he’ll be able to carry out revenge this way.

You have long figured out his concerns, and no matter how you showered his body with love and affection, he only seemed to condemn himself more. This wasn’t something you could just accept like that, seeing your lover being so down caused you nothing but grief. Especially with the thought in mind that you couldn’t help him- no. That’s not true. You could if you wanted to, it’s never too late to learn new things. Besides you had a basic understanding of mechanics and things related to it, since it is a part of your work. Even if you had never done something this high-tech, it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Giving it a shot wouldn’t hurt no one, right?

After coming to such resolves, it got shaken again by your endless worries. You had no idea where to start, nor how a cyborg works. Besides the IPC is way more knowledgeable about this than you, so what’s the chance of success? How were you going to achieve that goal anyway? Uncountable amounts of questions flooded your mind, chasing away any traces of confidence you previously had. That’s when you reminded yourself as to why you wanted to do all of this in the first place. It’s all because of him, he wanted to feel, and who were you to refuse his request? Thus began your secret operation, to program a small device that works as a sensory aid. This took you so long that boothill also noticed you hiding something from him, yet he never asked, respecting your wish to keep it a secret.

One day, after you were sure that it was done and hundred precent safe, you mustered enough courage to present the idea to him. Your heart was in your hand while you explained it to him, on what exactly you would have to do as well as what this little piece of metal can do. With trembling hands, you held the small chip. It was only as big as a pingpong ball, yet it took you months to refine it to perfection. Suddenly breathing was like the most difficult task in the world, as well as speaking. Your breath was short and ragged as you stumbled over your words, trying your best to explain the situation. It was hard to believe you were suggesting the idea of doing modifications on your dear boyfriend.

Boothill was initially grinning, wondering what kind of present you got him. When he saw your nervous stutters and the gift in your hand, his expression loosened up a little, thus he was smiling meekly now. Without beating around the bush, he clasped his hand over yours, then said, “m’ mighty fine, ya’ do what ya’ want, no need to force it, aight?” His hand was cold like always, in contrary to you he didn’t quiver, simply because he couldn’t. Even so you knew this was very shocking to him, you noticed by the indescribable look on his face. There was his usual cheerful air, brave smirk and reassuring yet chaotic vibe. Though a hint of bitterness was hidden behind these layers.

Why? That’s what he wondered about. You spend all your free time on this, just for him, because he accidentally pitied it once or twice? Even though he appreciated the thoughts and efforts, he still felt bad. Yet there was something else too, scepticism. If this were to work, would things get better? Doubt, suspicion and most prominently fear engulfed him. What if it just doesn’t work? You must be so disappointed if that were the case. Or something might go wrong and he never gets the chance to hold you again, that would be way worse than his current fate. Frankly enough, he is already grateful to have a place to call home again, which is why he doesn’t want to be too greedy.

You nodded, then said, “I want to try, okay?” He saw your determination, so he had to reason to refuse you, giving you a smile as he replied, “don’t mess me up too much, darling.” After getting his consent, you made him lie down on the working bench. If he didn’t knew any better, it almost felt like you were a doctor. You started with removing his cover, using a cordless screwdriver to get rid of the metal plates on his torso. This way you can access his central parts and inner systems. Operating on a human being was stressing, especially because it was someone dear to you too. It took you a while until you properly understood his body and how everything worked, many wires were placed everywhere, so many that it confused you. There were also artificial bones to help stabilise and protect the wires as well as countless devices, similar to the task of real bones. Some kind of blue liquid was being pumped to his heart, keeping it alive. You found many chips for various purposes, yours in contrary looked like a joke. This was overwhelming at first, but after studying him for a bit, you came to understand most of it.

Behind his pelvis was his oil tank, with the energy conversion device being right next to it. It was connected to every single part of his body, since it was the machine delivering energy through every wire. There were also many other human-like parts; an artificial lung, an oxygen cylinder to store the air needed to keep the brain alive, an artificial stomach which was more like a storage for bullets. The department that you needed the most was behind his chest, where his motor for motion skills are. It was located alongside a few other big systems. If you could somehow connect the control system with your little chip there, then he might be able to turn on or off the sensor at free will. No doubt it was a bold gamble, but you were willing to try.

After hours of endless finger-work, to the point sweat was dripping down your chin, you finally managed to attach the device to the right place. A total of 52 tiny wires were needed to properly connect everything, the last thing you had to do was to reattach his covers. Before moving on to that part, you tapped your self made chip gently, wondering if he would be able to feel anything already. During the entire time you were working and basically experimenting on him, Boothill stayed quiet, not wanting to disrupt you. Though this time, he let out an irritated gasp, “huh.” It was strange, something wasn’t quite right. That means you did manage to make modifications to his body, the question is if it’s a good thing. “Boothill, are you alright?” You asked him immediately, worried that you made things worse. “Shucks cutie, m’fine, I’m not that frail.” Once again he retorted to his usual fun demeanour.

It wasn’t a lie, he was fine, but that doesn’t mean nothing happened. Though he didn’t know how to describe it neither. Somehow it felt like electricity was send to his brain, stimulating his nerves. The sensation he just experienced… it was weird yet familiar. Could it be whatever you did worked? Was that bizarre sensation the sense of touch? It’s been so long, he doesn’t know nor remember anymore. “I’m done, can you see if you can turn it on?” You said hesitantly, almost sounding as unsure as him. Boothill looked through his system, and there has indeed been a new feature unlocked. He downloaded it swiftly, a little on edge as he waited. 98%…99%… and done. “How do you feel?” The anticipation in your voice was as clear as day. This was the most intense part of your operation after all, it was if it bore fruition.

“I really don’t feel a difference.” He told you honestly, his brows furrowed. It seems he also kind of hoped for it to work, guess his expectations were too high. Your heart sank, all this work for nothing. In an instant, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your chest. With a disappointed and guilty tone, you spoke, “I’m sorry, I made you go through all that for nothing.” Then you held his iron hand tightly, as if to apologise to him. As soon as your skin made contact with him, his hand twitched and he pulled it back. A dumbfounded look was on your face along with the grief. When you stared at him, totally confused, you noticed his face heat up. “Boothill…?”

“Your hand’s warm.” He stated, lips slightly parted which revealed his sharp teeth. “What?” You didn’t quite catch the meaning behind his words, hence the question. Boothill sit up very abruptly and pointed a finger to his body, “touch m’ here.” Despite you not understanding the situation, you obliged anyway, tapping his torso with your index finger. “It worked!” The cyborg stated, blinking a few times in awe. “My forking goodness, this shirt works.” “You mean…?” Your own eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief. It worked? Your little amateur operation there? “It worked.” You had to repeat those words that seemed so unfamiliar in your mouth.

The realisation hit you, your hard work payed off and it wasn’t unnecessary. In an instand you pulled that man into a hug, wrapping your arms around his torso, holding him tightly. “Hey now, don’t squeeze me so suddenly mother-fudger, hahaha.” Boothill laughed, returning your embrace immediately. This feeling was what he subconsciously missed. For the first time in years, he could feel the warmth of another. He can feel it when something is touching him, when you are caressing him so gently.

Even though first and foremost he looks unbothered, only happy about this new function, he was deeply shaken by it. His bottom lip trembled due to the overwhelming emotions swirling around inside him. If he could cry, he would. Partly because he’s so grateful for your deeds, also because feeling so many stimulations when he literally couldn’t for years is a bit overwhelming. It wasn’t bad though, your hug felt so nice. To think the first thing he gets to feel after being senseless all these years is not anything fighting related, but the soft feeling of your tender embrace. How lucky he was. If he dared to be a little more selfish, then he’d wish this moment could last forever.

#AHHHH IDK IF ITS GOOD T^T #boothill x you #honkai boothill #boothill star rail #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #boothill #boothill x y/n

[mylifestylearedilfs]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ joost klein x singer!reader ࿐ྂ

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ESPRESSO : fluff ; imagine ; all is fictional ; joost is such a babygirl here ; english is not my first language

, , ,

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ WHEN JURY ANNOUNCED YOU as a representation of your country, you couldn’t be happier. since your childhood, you were a fan of eurovision, only because you loved the idea that every country could show off their culture, beautiful language etc. you weren’t the most extrovert, so the thought of being filmed almost every second, having to take part in those interviews— which most of the time wasn’t even that necessary — stressed you out.

but someone decided to send you a literal angels, every contestant were just amazing, helping you with stress before performing at pre-parties. but your main partners in crime were nemo, bambie, your two baby girls marcus & martinus and your favourite person in this world — joost klein.

they all were your shoulders to cry on. you even created a group chat for your little eurovision gang. and let me say, you cried a lot during some pre-parties, both from laughing & crying. you couldn’t believe that you met that beautiful and amazing people, you were super grateful for that.

, , ,

today was the last pre-party before semi-finals, for you personally it was also a very important event, because you wanted to create a bond with your audience, and all the music parties before real contest were a must. that’s why you wanted everything to be perfect about your performance. but then you were woke up by a sharp pain in your throat, you started to panic immediately. when you tried to sang whatever song you had in mind in that moment, all you could hear was rasp voice and in this circumstance it wasn’t this sexy type of rasp.

as you walked into cafeteria, where almost every contestant were eating breakfast before rehearsals. when you saw bambie & nemo a big smile appears on your face. even if your mood were dead today, they will always make you smile no matter what. with loud sigh you sat down at the table, saying quick ‘hello’

“hi babe, what happened to your precious voice?” bambie asked and you just hided your face in your hands.

“i guess i just screamed too much at your performances and now my voice said bye bye everyone” you joked and they just laughed, but then nemo sat down next to you and bring you to side hug.

“so you won’t be performing today?” bambie asked with worry tone, they knew how much you wanted to take part in every single evening.

“did i heard something about no performing?” you heard well known voice and second later you felt his hands on your shoulders.

“our little singer is mute for today unfortunately” bambie said, as joost sat next to you.

“i don’t even want to hear about this, of course you will perform” he said with such a lightness in his voice, and everyone else send him questionable looks.

“but i barely speak, there’s no way i can sing today” joost just laughed at your comment.

“who said anything about singing, honey?” after seeing more confused looks, he just added “you will see, now let’s eat” he clapped his hands and took some fruit out of nemo’s plate.

, , ,

right now you finally were on last pre-party, the atmosphere was fantastic as always. everyone was getting ready to show, without that much stress as at the beginning of this project. you admired how people that were shy and very formal to each other now can be a hundred per cent themselves. also watching them growing as artists was another great experience, sometimes you felt like a proud mother, especially when it comes to your safe group. at this point, you didn’t even care who would win, because in any scenario you would be extremely proud of your friends.

joost told you to get ready for the concert as usual, you didn’t even question him anymore, because you knew that he wouldn’t tell you anything, so it was pointless. you wore your stage outfit and patiently waited for your turn, right now at the stage you could see your favourite twins, even if you couldn’t sing, you still loudly supported them, but only with your applauses.

finally it was your turn to go on stage, but right before your leg touched the floor, joost showed up with his iconic blue suit, he took a microphone and started talking;

“hello everyone! i know you’re all waiting for our amazing y/n, but unfortunately she won’t be give you guys proper performance today, but good for her - i’m here” he said smiling, as the crowd just laughed, then he invited you at the stage and you were loudly welcome by audience. joost handed you microphone that was turned off and you heard the beginning of your song. a few moments later instead of your voice, you heard joost who were holding a phone with the lyrics of this song.

you couldn’t believed what was happening, all you did was laugh, when you heard how he tried to mimic your singing style. but then you realised, that you should start to lip syncing, and that’s what you did.

everyone, the audience & the contestants started laughing, but also singing along with joost. that was officially your best performance at all eurovision pre parties.

when the song ended, you turned on the microphone and said shortly “you’re crazy” shortly after you heard his response “anything for you, honey”

#imagine #fluff #joost klein #justice for joost #free joost #stand with joost #joost x reader #joost klein x reader #joost klein x you #eurovision #eurovison song contest #eurovision imagines #eurovision 2024

[moviecritc]

Hi, so I've recently watched the Thanksgiving movie with Patrick Dempsey and it was sooo good. So I wanted to ask if you could please write something about Charles dating actress!reader who stars in a horror movie but even tho he is not a big fan of horror movies he agrees to watch it for her because he wants to be the best boyfriend so could you please write it with a mix of smau with nell verlaque as face claims 🫶🏻

supportive boyfriend ⋆ charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x actress!reader

word count: 601

warnings: mixed smau and writing

a/n: i, too, am not a huge fan of horror movies (i hate them actually), also this was quite short but i hope you like it <3

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

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liked by addisonrae, charlesleclerc and 34,120 others

yourusername some pics from the set 😚😚

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user1 the bond they all have >>>>

addisonrae ❤️👻

user2 i love her so so much

user3 omg i watched the movie and it was amazing!!

user4 y/n the new scream queen frr

user5 wait tf is charles leclerc doing in her likes

user6 girl they're dating u didn't know? she went to promote one her movies to the miami gp last year, they met, become really good friends and they started dating. it was like a rom com truly user5 that's so cute

user7 anyone expecting charles reaction for this new movie? we all know how fearful he is

user8 yess he's probably biting his nails trying to come up with ideas to not see it

And he was.

He was more than proud of his girlfriend and loved seeing her on screen. He always watched her latest movies on the plane when she wasn’t around. But this was the first horror movie she’d made, and the idea of watching it terrified him. He had always struggled with that genre; his two brothers loved horror movies and insisted on watching them when they were kids, which led to Charles having countless sleepless nights.

He had tried to convince Max or Arthur to watch it before him and tell him if it was too scary, but neither of them had time. He searched for summaries on YouTube, but it was still too early for people to have summarized it.

The only thing left was to mentally prepare himself. Be very aware that it was all fiction and that nothing would come after him once the movie ended.

He arrived at his girlfriend’s apartment, greeting her with a kiss and a box of her favorite sweets along with a rose.

“Aw, thanks, Charlie,” she hugged him and gave him a longer kiss. “Come on, I’ve got everything ready to watch it.”

Y/N was truly excited, and it showed on her face. She was very proud of this project and eager to show it to her biggest supporter at last. Charles knew this and had done everything possible to stay calm. But then he saw the setup: Y/N had turned down all the lights, leaving only a few candles lit, and the movie was already on the TV. The poster showed her covered in blood with a terrified expression.

“Are you ready?” Y/N said, sitting on the couch. Charles followed suit, and she snuggled up against his chest.

“Of course,” he said immediately. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Y/N looked at him with a little smile and kissed his cheek before pressing play. The first fifteen minutes were fine; they were introducing the plot and the characters. But then the tone of the movie started to darken, and Charles shifted nervously in his seat. Y/N noticed and intertwined her hand with Charles’, placing it on her chest.

Y/N realized how Charles flinched several times during the next few minutes, so she sat up and paused the movie.

“What’s wrong?” Charles asked instantly, completely confused though secretly relieved to have a moment to rest.

“Charles, you know I won’t be mad if you’re scared to watch the movie, right?” Y/N spoke with a sweet smile.

Charles pressed his lips together and looked down, just enough for Y/N to widen her smile and kiss him, cupping his cheeks with her hands. “I’m not scared,” he said in the middle of the kiss. Y/N raised her eyebrows, said nothing, and exited the movie. “But don’t turn it off, I want to watch it, I swear!”

“Char…”

“No, let’s watch it, mon amour,” Charles insisted, taking control of the remote.

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[caption: guess who haven't slept a shit bc her bf is scared of his own hair]

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charlesleclerc IT WAS DARK AND I FELT SOMETHING IN MY FACE I WAS SCARED

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #formula 1 #noraverse 🫧 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #formula one #charles leclerc smau #f1 social media au #cl16 #cl16 x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 one shot

[justleaveatnine]

pink in the night - matty healy. part four.

you join the 1975 on tour as an actress starring in the narrative portion of at their very best alongside the lead singer, matty healy. he’s got big ideas and wants to redefine what a concert is, blurring the lines between fiction and reality. on stage together each night, it starts to feel less and less like acting. but is it the same for him?

masterlist.

cw: drug use, smoking, blood

wc: 4.6k

—

Boston 

“This is a good one." George pops a candy into his mouth before continuing.

"Do not go with your dad to the 1975’s new tour I repeat do not go with your dad Matty pulls on a girls hair and kisses her all weird IT WILL BE VERY AWKWARD.” He's laughing so hard he struggles to get the sentence out as he reads it off his phone. 

“Hey, I do not kiss weird! Gimme that-“ Matty reaches across the tour bus to try and pull the phone out of George’s hand, who swats him away. 

Ross finds another tweet while Matty is distracted. “No, no, this one is even better: Matty I know you made this show to prove you know what you’re doing but it won’t work I see you for the virgin that you are." He laughs, shaking his head. "They keep you so humble.” 

“What is this, The Bully Matty Show? Jesus Christ." Matty scoffs to an audience of laughter. 

He turns around to you, eyes wide. "You gonna defend our show to these knobs, or what?"

You smile, lips pursed and shaking your head. "Nah, I'm good. This is too entertaining." He scoffs, and turns around.

"They aren't saying anything bad about her, you know. Just you," George snickers, pointing towards him with his thumb.

"Well deserved," Adam quips from the corner.

"Oh fuck off, Hann!" Matty says to a round of laughter. 

Ross pipes up again. "Wait, wait, wait, this one's the best: I found the girl's height online, has to be inaccurate because we know Matty is 5'7", she can't be shorter," 

"5'7"?" Matty nearly shouts, incredulous. He crosses his hands and sits back on the couch beside you. "They keep bloody lowering it," he grumbles.

You nudge him with your elbow and he turns to face you. "Should I tweet that I'm actually 5'0 tall in real life? Then they'll say you're, what, 5'4"?" you ask with a cheeky smile on your face. 

"Don't you even dare." His grimness makes you laugh, bringing your hand to your face to muffle it.

New York City

You’ve never experienced anything like this before. As you walk through the club with Polly, people come up to you left and right, complimenting your performance and asking for photos. Your mind is a blur as you push through the crowd, moving against the unidentifiable bodies. A voice you can’t locate the body of shouts, “Amazing show!” along with your name. Your on a high, the alcohol, adrenaline, and compliments mixing through your veins and puppetering you through the club as your mind gets hazy. The music is just a blur in the back of your mind as you round a corner too get off the dance floor.

You reach the stage from the side, where one of the Ion Pack guys whose name you feel bad about not remembering gives you a hug. You can’t really hear what he is saying over the pounding bass, but you nod. You're drunk and overwhelmed, you can't bring yourself to do much more. It seems to suffice as he continues past you, patting you on the back with a smile.

You walk towards George and Matty, the former of which is operating the DJ booth as the latter dances and shouts something in the others ear. George laughs as Matty continues to dance, and fiddles with some of the knobs in front of him.

When Matty notices you, he pulls you into a hug that subsequently causes the audience to cheer. The reaction makes your head spin a little, your stomach churn. These people know you now. This is just another part of the show for them, more content.

“How do you handle this?” you ask into his ear. 

He pulls back. “Handle what, the club?” he asks, confused. 

“All the attention. Just tonight alone has made me go a bit mental.” You rub at your eyes. "I don't really know how to think about all of it, all of this," you gesture to the crowd, many of whom are watching to two of you speak, wishing they could hear the words exchanged.

He thinks for a moment. “It never gets easy, I’ll say. But you get used to it. Besides, it was just a long time coming for you, I’ll tell you that much. Well deserved. And you've got me with you the whole time, darling. I promise.” He has to shout to have it heard over the music, but the sentiment rings softly within you.

How does he always manage to do this, make you unravel with just a few unsuspecting words? He stares at you as you continue to think, overwhelmed by his presence combined with everything in the club. You’re not sure how he’s not sweating under the leather jacket he’s got on. You realize he’s started talking again, the overstimulation warping your senses.

He rubs your arm, a comforting smile on his face. "Don’t stress yourself out, love. I can practically hear you thinking.” You hope to god that he can’t. All your thoughts lead back to him, anyways. 

Camden

Matty makes you promise to a signal. 

"I won't deviate from the script if you won't agree to this. You won't win, love." He says, sipping his pint.

You know he would never do something that would cross your lines, make you uncomfortable. Whether that is on or off stage. He's staring at you from his position across the table, fingers rattling against the surface. The whole band is at a bar, enjoying the calmer night before the show tomorrow. The afterparties have been fun, sure, letting off the adrenaline in a blur of alcohol and dancing against bodies you can't place the identity of. But sitting with everyone in a bar not too far from your hotel and yelling over the music at each other until your voices go hoarse is your favourite way to spend the downtime.

You sigh, thinking. "Fine. I'll, uh, I'll blink three times rapidly if I want you to stop something. That good?" you acquiesce. 

Matty's pleased. The alcohol inflates the level of victory, you can see it in his eyes. You can't let the feeling last too long. The shots you did affect you too, loosening the filter between your mind and your mouth. An idea floats through your tipsy head, and against your better judgement, you begin to speak.

"There's nothing you could do that would rattle me though, so don't be looking to hard for it." 

"Is that right?" he takes another sip, smirk appearing.

"I think I'd be able to make you flinch before I do up there." You say, cockily. You're not sure if you'll ever be able to affect him the way he does to you, but your mouth is moving of its own volition. The words are creating themselves. Even though you know this isn't the smartest conversation to have with your employer that you have a crush on, growing stronger with each touch and glance. (You try to remind yourself that its just the performance, but your heart never seems to get the message).

"Is that a challenge, love?" He's entertained, smile growing. 

"If you want it to be," you shoot back, quick. A smarter woman wouldn't do this. She wouldn't meddle with her career like this, her one shot at her dream. But right now all you can think about is the man across from you, smiling cheekily, curls bouncing with each movement of his head. You can't be bothered to think too rationally. You're greedy. You just want to keep him like this, staring at you so intently.

"Don't set yourself up for a game you're bound to lose, even with your plays you know I've spent way more time becoming comfortable in front of the crowds." He's self-assured. 

"Winner buys drinks for the rest of the tour?" You can't stop yourself. You're not even sure if you'd win this challenge you've built. You just want to see it play out. You've started the game, but all you really care about are his moves.

"You've got yourself a deal," he shakes his head with a smile. You tap your drinks together in agreement. What are you doing.

Washington D.C.

You exhale, letting out the smoke from the cigarette. Your attempts to quit before the tour have been unsuccessful, and the long day made you itch for a moment of reprieve, the nicotine rushing through your brain. 

The cold air stings your arms, goosebumps forming as you slightly shiver. You went on a walk along the Potomac, people watching and chain-smoking. Now you're leant against the tour bus, waiting to finish the cigarette that you've sworn to yourself will be your last for the night.

Your peace is disturbed by the tour bus door swinging open, and Matty walking down the steps. He's on his phone, and doesn't notice you until he gets completely out of the bus, looking around. His eyes immediately land on the cigarette in your hand, and his mouth opens in slight shock.

"Why didn’t you tell me you actually smoked?" he asks, incredulously, while pointing towards your hand. "I went through all the effort of getting sets of fake cigarettes for the show!"

You sigh, taking another drag. "I'm sorry. I was trying to quit then, but evidently I have not been too successful." you gesture into the air with it between your fingers. 

He walks towards you, and you wordlessly pass the cigarette to him. He takes a puff before handing back it back to you. You can see a ever-so-faint tinge of your dark lipstick on his lips, transferred from the cigarette. You force the thought to not linger, taking another drag.

Matty hums. "Does that mean I can use a real one in the scene? The bit in Robbers?"

You tsk, putting on an air of disappointment. "Wow, promoting and encouraging addiction? Not very PC of you, Matty. Whatever will Twitter say?"

"Fuck off. Give me the cig," he says, smiling. The two of you smoke the small bit it has left in comfortable silence, the chill from the river rippling around you.

Atlanta

The bus is driving down a seemingly endless highway, the surroundings staying identical now matter how far you drive. Your holding a book in your lap, but you're barely reading it. Your eyes keep flicking up to Matty.

He's sat at one of the seating booths, hastily writing in a notebook. It's moleskin, and from your vantage point you can see what appears to be small drawings, almost doodles, alongside lines of indecipherable prose.

You wonder if he's writing a song, ideas for another leg of the show. More fantasies for you to act out. In this one, will he be cruel, acting out a performance of hatred? Maybe he'll be ambivalent, using you as simply an object in the narrative. Your mind spirals through possibilities, and the reality of the situation is long gone to your imagination.

You return to focusing on him. His hair is dangling over his forehead, dark curls framing his face so beautifully. You want to run your fingers through them, ruin the tightly coiled ringlets and tug on them until he gasps. You make a mental note to do it during the show tonight, the one time you're allowed to act on your desires for him.

He’s wearing a blue sweatshirt, and grey sweatpants that look so good it should be illegal. Your mouth runs dry as you continue to stare at his body, tracing him with your eyes. He lets out a small sigh, which causes your eyes to flick up to his face. He's frowning slightly, shaking his head as he erases a line. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling on it as you imagined yourself doing.

Your eyes dart back down to your book before he can catch you watching. You stare at the page for minutes, but your eyes don't read a single word.

Nashville

"Excuse me, uhm, are you the girl in The 1975 show?"

You turn around. You're in a corner shop, grabbing some snacks before the bus leaves. There's a girl who can't be more than sixteen wearing an At Their Very Best shirt, holding several magazines and a pint of ice cream. She looks almost awestruck. 

You smile, excited. You're getting recognized. By fans. This is insane. "Yeah, that's me. You're actually the first person to come up to me, this is kind of crazy."

"Crazy for you? Oh my gosh, this is insane for me! I've been a fan of the band for ages, and I couldn't stop watching you up there! I've never seen an actor in a tour before, you are so cool!" She's speaking at the speed of light. You don't even have a moment to speak before she continues.

"I just think the show's so amazing, what you guys are doing is so cool, oh my gosh, I can't believe this is happening, this is so-"

You put your hands on her shoulders. She's so excited, you're worried she'll faint from the lack of air.

"Please breathe, I don't need you to pass out on me," you say through a concerned laugh.

She takes a deep breath, and you match her. You stand in the aisle for a moment, breathing with her. It's a little ridiculous, but you couldn't be happier. "God, this is so embarrassing," she says, face cringing. 

"Hey, hey, no need to be embarrassed. This is actually really cool for me, too. Big milestone. Do you, uh, want a picture or anything? Can I give you something?"

You take a picture with her, and give her a big hug before she leaves. She tells you she will be in GA again at a later date, and you promise her you'll look for her in the audience. As she walks away, a big smile grows on your face. You're getting recognized. Not getting hollered at by an old man at the bus stop asking if you're the girl from that one commercial, or accepting the mild reactions from acquaintances you show the few bits of recorded work you've done. But someone telling you they loved something you're in, something that you're so so proud of. You walk back to the tour bus, humming and elated. 

Grand Prairie

"You're telling me, the man who constantly is taking about his love for Cronenberg and hired me to act out a creepy love fantasy every night hasn't watched Bones and All yet?" you ask while laughing, aghast. The two of you are sat on the couch of the tour bus, killing time while the crew is setting up. George went to workout in temporary gym that has been constructed in the backstage area, and Adam is lying in his bunk with headphones on. 

"I've been a little focused on making and album and writing this show that you're in, thank you very much. And it's not that creepy."

"You pull my hair and stroke my face while you sing about smashing my head open," you say, straight-faced.

He sighs, exasperated. "It's a metaphor," he practically whines. 

"And so is Bones and All. We're doing a movie night, pass me the remote." You get the TV set up while Matty makes a bowl of popcorn in the microwave, and brings it back to the couch as the movie begins.

Ross walks out of the main suite during one of the more particularly gruesome scenes. "Jesus, guys, could't put this on a laptop or something?" he says, shielding his eyes. "The hell even is this?"

"Shhhhh!" Matty hisses at him, and you snort. 

Houston

You're on stage, and he's singing Inside Your Mind. You're sat frozen on the chair, as you always are. His hand is stroking your face, fingers dancing down your temple to your jawline, tracing the shape of you as if to memorize it.

His hand moves to the side, his thumb leaving whispers of touches on your cheek. It keeps moving, further and further until his thumb reaches your mouth. Slowly, he runs his thumb across your top lip, tracing your cupids bow. You choke internally. You know what he's doing. He's trying to get you to flinch, give him a victory. You've set up this situation where he seeks to touch you of his own volition solely for chance to win a childish bet, but so be it if it means he'll touch you. You'd let him treat you as a game because at least it means he'll treat you somehow.

His thumb moves down to your bottom lip. You need to regain your footing, distract the racing thoughts in your mind. An idea slithers from the back of your mind, the one that screams for him constantly over the sirens of sanity that try to drown it out. At least now you can lean into that for the sake of this bet you constructed. You act before you can think too hard about it.

You move ever so slightly forward, small enough so that the audience won't be able to see, and you take his thumb into your mouth. 

It's never been harder to hold your position. You so desperately want to see his face, see the truth in his reaction. You're in far too deep at this point, might as well win the bet now.

You close your lips around his thumb, and suck. 

He stops singing, ever so momentarily. Clears his throat. Continues on. You know you've won, and the grin radiating from inside of you is almost too difficult to withhold. You got physical proof that you have at least some effect on him. (Far more important to you than any drinks, but you won't be telling him that)

After the show, he doesn't say a word about it. But when he returns from the bar that night at the club you're gathered at, he places a vodka cranberry in your hands before sitting back in his seat with a small grin. 

Austin

"Crazy idea."

"Hmm?"

You're stoned out of your minds, lying down on the bed of George’s hotel room. The man in question is lying on the floor, long passed out. 

“You know how…” you trail off. It’s so hard to think. Your mind is hazy, thoughts swirling around in pretty patterns you can’t quite see. 

“I do!” Matty sits up, in shock. You kick him, pushing his chest back down with your foot. 

“I haven’t even said it yet, idiot,” you scoff, exaggeratedly offended. You take a deep breath to clear the haze in your mind. 

“When you’re running your finger down my face. I’ve had dreams where there’s blood on you.” you sing the part you’re referring to lightly. “What if… there actually was blood on me?” 

You barely let it sit for a second before bursting into laughter, unable to contain yourself.  “Ugh, I always have the weirdest ideas when I’m high,” you groan into your pillow. “How would we even do that?” you slur, face smushed. 

“We could put it behind the chair. I put my hand in it… put it on your face…” Matty contemplates it.

“I think you liked Bones and All a little too much, I didn’t actually-”

“No, no, this is good. It’s creepy, and it further shows that that scene isn’t real, just, uh, in my imagination.” He gasps dramatically. “You’re a genius!” he shouts, comically excited. 

“Oh, no!” You shout, realization dawning on your intoxicated mind. 

“What, what, what?” Matty looks alarmed. You take his hands on yours. 

“We are going to ruin so many dresses,” you say, grim. The two of you burst into laughter immediately. 

“Oi, quit it!” George groans from the floor. It only causes your laughter to grow. 

Mexico City

On the stage two hours prior, Matty stuck his tongue down your throat. 

He kissed you so forcefully, eagerly. You felt like you were burning alive as you cupped his face, and kissed him just as passionately in return. Matty kissed you like he wanted to consume you, taking each and every part of you for himself. You’d give at all, open and willing. You licked into his mouth, letting the moment continue far longer than prescribed. You ran a hand through his curls, and you felt a small moan vibrate in your mouth as your nails scratched on his scalp. He met your gaze after and carefully brushed a piece of hair out of your face. Your heart felt as if it was going to tear out of your throat, pounding and bloody. Here I am, can’t you see this is all real?, it would say to him, pounding violently and gruesomely in his arms. Can't you see all that you do? 

Matty practically lives on the dance floor of the after parties. He never spends much time at the bar, grabbing drinks before heading either to the DJ booth to pester George or smack dab in the center of the dance floor. 

You’re standing at the bar, nursing a drink. Polly left you to go to the bathroom and you’re watching the members of band scattered throughout the club. George is DJing, as per usual, with Ross dancing against some girl near the edge of the dance floor. Adam is sat at a booth not too far from you with Carly, and you give them a smile as you sip into your cup. Matty wanders over, empty-handed and seemingly bone-tired, but the drunken grin on his face is apparent. “Seems I’ve lost my drink.”

You’re not really sure what he means with this. You speak anyways. “You know, the bets over and done. You’re not getting any drinks even if you make me flinch up there.” 

He raises his eyebrows and smiles, cheeky and withholding. “I know.” You don’t know what to do with that.    The music changes. You don’t recognize it, but Matty clearly does, his drunken face exploding with joy. 

“I love this song, come dance!” he shouts over the music, dragging you, laughing, onto the floor to dance with him. He puts his hands on your hips as you dance, and you can’t be bothered to let any modicum of rationality left in you stop you from indulging in it. 

Phoenix

You're sat on the tour bus couch, scribbling in your notebook. 

I glow pink in the night in my room I've been blossoming alone over you And I hear my heart breaking tonight

I could stare at your back all day And I know I've kissed you before, but I didn't do it right

It’s missing something, but you can’t figure out what. You tap your pencil against the page, creating little stabs of grey.

You feel a brush of something against your head and turn to the side, seeing Matty leaning over you. You practically jump out of your skin. 

“Jesus Christ, Matty! What are you, a fucking ghost?” 

He laughs a little. “Sorry, sorry. Just you were so focused, I didn’t wanna disturb you. Let me see that, actually.”

Before you can protest, he reaches over your shoulder, rips the notebook out of your hands, and tumbles around the couch to sit beside you. 

“Matty-” you try to lean and reach it out of his hands, but he rotates his body as to keep it out of your reach. You pray he doesn’t think too hard about the words, weave the meaning together that in your mind is displayed so, so obviously.  He’s quiet, and it’s making you nervous. You bite one of your nails, unsure what to do. 

He looks over at you, eyes wide. “This is what you’ve been writing this whole time?”

You scratch the back of your neck. “Well, not like that specific one this entire tour. But yeah, poems and stuff. It’s not meant to be something though, give it back,” you say as you reach across him. 

He pulls it out of your reach again. He says your name so focused, so earnestly, you stop in your tracks. 

“That poem is amazing.”

You sigh. “Matty, I’m really not in the mood for-“

“I’m not taking the piss, love! This is…” He taps the poem with his finger. “This is really something. You’re really something.” He looks back at you, so earnest it makes your head dizzy.

He fumbles in his pockets pulling out his phone. He looks back at you. “Can I?” he asks. You’re not 100% sure what he’s asking, but really, you’d agree to anything he asked of you. You nod. He takes a picture of the page and hands you back your notebook, standing up.

"C'mon, soundcheck is about to start," he smiles, waving you to follow him. 

Las Vegas

There's a container fixed to the back of the chair. Its flat and wide, perfect for placing a hand into. It's filled with fake blood that is about to be spread all over your face. Matty talked to Tobias and Patricia, convinced there was a way to make the blood your intoxicated mind suggested work, and now here you are.

He's approaching the line. You count your breaths. One two, one two. You wore one in-ear out of anticipation for the audience's reaction, and the music pounds into your ears. You wanna hear the screams that you know will come.

You see Matty carefully place his hand in the dish, and he brings it to your cheek. The blood is cold, jarring against your cheek. He keeps his hand still for a moment, letting it sit. He smears it with his thumb across your upper cheek, digging slightly against the bone. 

The crowd is screaming. You can feel the blood dripping onto your thigh, staining the stark white of your dress. He drags his thumb towards your lips, staining them red as it traces their outline, pressing against them. 

You can't help yourself. You've been so still every show, keeping your gaze locked in the distance. The perfect actress he wanted. But you're not a perfect actress. You're selfish. You're a girl whose falling so hard it makes you exhilarated, chasing the all-consuming feeling of him every moment you can. You're so consumed by him it terrifies you. You want to see him, gaze piercing and blood dripping. Your eyes flick to meet his, breaking the stillness. 

You stare into each others eyes. You're covered in the blood. Nothing feels real. The only thing grounding you is his hand on your cheek, cold and bloody but far more a comfort than anything else could possibly be. The crowd goes wild as the blood drips on your dress, staining you with him, seeping into your skin, your bones. Skin and bones, that's all you are. But not here with him. You feel alive, heart racing and endorphins shooting into your mind, loosening it with desire and adrenaline. The blood trails down your neck, cold and sticky. You want it to stain you just as he does to all of your thoughts, your poems, your breaths, your everything. The blood drips lower and lower down your neck, cold against your skin.

The song ends. You get up, and leave the stage as you always do, covered in him so completely. The blood leaves a trail.

—

a/n: pleaaaaaaase let me know what you guys think i love hearing from you <33333 poem is pink in the night by mitski 🫶

#matty healy #pitn #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy writing #matty #healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 31: Post Game

…for the sake of the world’s happiness.

#Yuma Month 2024 #rain code #master detective archives: rain code #rain code spoilers #yuma kokohead #pixeldoodles #my art #the last day…at last #you can tell I’m drained because this art is not high effort XD #but its still something and I didn’t have too many ideas #I sincerely hope to see Yuma again in the sequel if one is made #he is too complex of a character to just abandon y'know? #and I’ve grown TOO ATTACHED to him #never in my life have I been so connected and obsessed with a male fictional character before #he’s truly something else… I love him so much <3 #anyway this was fun but I am pretty exhausted #I may take a short break art wise for a while ;w; #I'm still sad I missed 2 days but 29 out of 31 isn't bad for my first daily art challenge #I loved yuma too much to not try it. #anyway yay! we all did it! ...kind of lol. #I really do wish I had a better idea for this but I was too tired... #so have the post game scene horribly drawn in my style #first time drawing the pattern on yuma’s cape PROPERLY #tbh him leaving is a good way to show a finale anyway #I hope we see Yuma again... I truly do. #thank you yuma kokohead for existing 💜 #and ty to my bestie Kazin for hosting this fun challenge #what a fun way to spend the month of May :3

[harrysgal]

I DIG YOUR CINEMA (2)

harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU

I know I’m just starting and don’t actually have much experience with this, but I’m actually having a lot of fun doing it and already can’t wait to post more.

About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.

Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART 1 — MEET YN

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 2) — LAS VEGAS

liked by bestfriend, yourmom, mollyjane_x and 22,108 others 

yourinstagram HELLOOOOOOO FABULOUS LAS VEGAS NEVADA 

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user1 soooo… a new full time job that took you to las vegas? 👀 yourbrother Please behave  bestfriend don’t get (too) drunk without me pls harryfan STOP FIRST LOT SHOW IT’S IN VEGAS 

↳ harryfan2 She’s going to the show right???? I mean it can’t be just a coincidence anymore IT JUST CAN’T ↳ harryfan NO I KNOW THIS IS IT I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES

Aug 26, 2021 •

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liked by bestfriend, cuteguy, mollyjane_x and 22,451 others 

yourinstagram you’d think a lady in vegas would be out there getting wild but this one actually has been locked in her hotel room for the last 27 hours overthinking her ideas and freaking out about this new job lol if any of you could send me a pizza or something id appreciate it. thanks. 

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user1 nooooo you’re so talented whatever it is i know you can do it!! bestfriend yn ✋🏻  cuteguy Should I give you a call? 😊 harryfan17 I would too be freaking out if I had to work for THE harry styles lol

↳ harryfan16 we still don’t know if she is tho  ↳ harryfan17 C’mon she’s in vegas and molly and jeff are following her ↳ harryfan16 still 🤷🏻‍♀️ tour doesn’t start for another few days so this could be just about something else  ↳ harryfan16 also maybe she’s there because she wants to be and not bc she’s “working” for him. she’s done videos about several artists and she isn’t working for any of them is she?  ↳ harryfan17 Well yes but she literally just said she was starting a new job so 🤷‍♀️ ↳ harryfan16 so everyone just assumed HARRY, out of all people, hired her? c’mon guys lol she could be working for just anyone and STILL go to a show. one doesn’t have to be related to the other.

Aug 28, 2021 •

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liked by anthonypham, bestfriend, lookitsnyoh and 25,103 others 

yourinstagram fun fact: if you post something on the internet people around you might see it 🫠

guess im lucky this lovely group who still don’t know me at all cared enough to drag me out of my room and show me around the city. sometimes i get so caught up inside my mind that i forget how important human connection is — which is funny if you think most of my videos are exactly about that lol. so plssssss make sure to surround yourself with (nice) people. also get some sleep, drink water and feed yourself. it’ll do wonderful things for you!!!

anyway my mom was worried about my “not leaving the room post” so this is just me saying everythings good!! (i also already called her of course <3)

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bestfriend LOVE YOU harryfan the new followers the new likes 😭 it’s happening i knew it  user1 so true bestie!! this reminded me of your 2nd video i think

↳ yourinstagram omg yesssss!!  ↳ user1 ahh i missed your interactions <3  ↳ yourinstagram i knowww! promise i’ll try my best to keep interacting even if it’s not as much as before 💗

lookitsnyoh my belly still hurts from all the laughing 

↳ yourinstagram and my mind is still rushing from all the talking ↳ anthonypham go to sleep you two 

harryfan9 I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING BUT OMFG I’M SO HERE FOR IT

Aug 29, 2021 •

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liked by anthonypham, mollyjane_x, bestfriend and 27,257 others 

yourinstagram sightseeing left me speechless. but here’s a picture from tonight. 

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user1 omg you’re feeding us this week! i’m so happy you’re being active again <3 harryfan78 POST A PICTURE OF YOURSELF I WANT TO MEET YOU AT THE SHOW BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE 

↳ user4 calm down pls? we like to behave as respectful human beings on this profile

bestfriend ❤️❤️❤️ bestfriend i’m losing my mind but i’m also so excited and proud! user7 I miss your videos :( lookitsnyoh when was this? where was I? bummed that I missed it!

↳ yourinstagram sorryyy just a last minute decision after dinner :( ↳ lookitsnyoh ohhhh makes sense now! Glad it left you speechless ↳ yourinstagram i mean the city is beautiful  ↳ lookitsnyoh sure thing it is 👽

Sep 1, 2021 •

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liked by harryfan, harryfan2 and 15,157 others 

fanwhometharry GUYS I JUST MET HARRY I’M SHAKKNG I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE NOW 

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harryfan64 omg where did you meet him??

↳ fanwhometharry AT THE BELLAGIO  ↳ harryfan64 is he staying there???  ↳ fanwhometharry NO!! I MEAN IDK?? I DONT RHINK SO I JUST MET HIM OUTSIDE AT THE FOUNTAINS  ↳ harryfan74 hmm not tryin to be rude or something but that sounds like a weird place for him to be tbh ↳ fanwhometharry I FUCKKNG KNOW THAT?? I MEAN MY PARENTS WANTED TO SEE THE WATER SHOW SO I TAGGED ALONG BUT NEVER EVER THOUGHT ID BUMP INTO HIM THERE

harryfan62 you’re so lucky!! was he alone???

↳ imetharry I DONT KNOW?? I DONT REMEMBER I WAS SO NERVOUS  ↳ imetharry I KNOW THERE WAS A GIRL NEARBY BC SHE HANDED HIM A PEN WHEN I COULDNT FIND MINE BUT I DONT KNOW IF SHE WAS WITH HJIM OR NOT ↳ harryfan62 who was this girl? Anyone from the LOT crew? ↳ imetharry IDK I JUST SAID I DONT EVEN KNOW IF SHE WAS WITH HIM OR NOT 😭

harryfan15 Hi hun! Don’t listen to people, they're just jealous. It was really sweet of him to sign that for you! Hope you have a great time at the show 💕

↳ imetharry THANK YOU 😭😭 HE WAS THERE JUST WATCHING LIKE A NORMAL PERSON SO I DIDN’T WANT TO TAKE A PIC IF PEOPLE DON’T BELIEVE ME THEN I DON’T CARE I KNOW IT’S REAL 😭😭

Sep 1, 2021 •

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liked by gemmastyles, anthonypham, jefezoff and 35,109 others 

yourinstagram having to keep this secret from the world was the most cruelest thing that anyone has ever done to me. but whatever… it’s fine… i’m okay… i’m just gonna pretend this wasn’t a big deal and i didn’t just watch one of my favorite artists perform my favorite songs… and then i’ll just casually say: pls stay tuned for next wednesday when my new video will be up 😇

(i’ll be back and share more details once my serotonin levels have normalized again)

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bestfriend i love you so much thank you for representing us so well  harryfan I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT OMFG I CANT WAIT I KNEW IT harryfan2 YN KASDHUHHD PLS OMFG YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THIS AND LEAVE user1 😲 i can’t wait for this one! harrystyles soz 

↳ harryfan OMFG HARRY ↳ harryfan5 ?????????????????????????? ↳ harryfan3 AUIDHIAUSHDBAJH WTF ↳ harryfan9 ARE YOU F KIDDING ME WHATS HE DOING HERE

cuteguy Nice! Glad you’re having a good time darling. 

Sep 4, 2021 •

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PART 3: DENVER

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If you happen to read and enjoy this, pls let me know? 🙏 thanks!! it would be nice to know if this is working, or what else would people would like to see.

#harry styles fake social media #harry styles social media au #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smau #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing

[pascaloverx]

DANDELIONS

Summary: You are the new guest of the Bridgertons. Your mother, an old friend of Lady Violet Bridgerton, has requested that you spend a season at the Bridgerton house in hopes that you will change your perspective on true love and marriage. You are convinced that love is a fictional construct and that a marriage without love will be your downfall; but some time with the Bridgerton siblings might change your mind.

Author's Note: The characters belong to the Bridgerton universe and Julia Quinn. However, the story will have some changes from what happens in the Bridgerton series (2020-). Dear readers, this story may contain strong language and steamy romance scenes. It may even feature a love triangle. Be warned and enjoy the reading.

ONE

"A great idea," you grumbled the entire way from your house to the Bridgerton house. Your mother had told you it would be an excellent idea for you to venture into society. "An independent mission," she said. Your father is so ill and trapped in his own world that he didn't mind letting his only daughter go to a stranger's house. Your mother has given up on arranging a conventional marriage for you. She doesn't respect the fact that you don't want a marriage like hers. You wonder if it's so wrong to want a marriage filled with tenderness, passion, love, or any feeling other than indifference. You basically grew up knowing you were the product of an obligation. The only child your parents managed to conceive before your father became too ill to have more children. Or rather, before your mother gave up trying to love him. When you were born, at least she had shed the moral burden of having to provide your father with an heir. Obviously, both she and he had hoped you would be a boy. But you think that over the years they have grown accustomed to you. This year, for some reason, your mother wants you to get married. Perhaps it's because your father is on the brink of death. If you find a husband who can manage your father's properties and investments, maybe you will become something useful to your family. Your father only mutters about wanting a male grandchild to carry on his legacy, and your mother wants you married. After Lady Violet Bridgerton successfully married off her daughter Daphne, your mother began to think that perhaps she could help you. So, after exchanging a few letters, you are now on your way to the Bridgerton house to be introduced to society's marriage system.

"I need to step out of this carriage for a moment," you say as you stop murmuring your mother's words. Your companion gives you a look that says, "She's lost her mind," but you know she will eventually let you get out of the carriage.

"Actually, we are already in front of the Bridgerton house entrance. I must remind you that your mother recommended I stay by your side most of the time," Mrs. Lydia says, as if you didn't know that, as your companion, she is supposed to always be nearby.

"I know your job is to protect my honor, but believe me, if I enter the Bridgerton house in my current mood, they will expel me before midnight. I need a moment to think," you say, nervously adjusting the hem of your dress. Your companion gently nods as if she understands. Lydia is the closest thing to true family that you have. So it's no surprise that she understands you.

"Enter the house for a moment and be polite. There's a stable on the Bridgerton property; I'll see what I can do. Ask Lady Bridgerton or the Viscount Bridgerton if you can go for a ride. And try not to get into trouble. I'll pretend to accompany you but give you some time alone," Lydia says, and you hug her tightly. A good horse ride after meeting the Bridgertons is just what you need. Not that you know much about them. You can only imagine. They are several siblings, and you are an only child. It's not hard to imagine there will be some incompatibilities. Minutes later, you step out of the carriage with Lydia, observing several people standing around you two.

"Dear Miss Y/L/N, it's a pleasure to welcome you here. I must confess that when your mother informed me of your arrival, we all looked forward to it," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she approaches you. She seems so friendly that you feel inclined to hug her.

"I would like to thank you, Lady Bridgerton, and your lovely family for your hospitality. Unfortunately, my mother couldn't come with me, but my companion Lydia is here," you say awkwardly. The truth is, you're feeling that this season at Aubrey Hall with all the Bridgertons might be more challenging than you imagine.

"Let's not waste time exchanging pleasantries and let's go inside so you can see your quarters. I believe it will be the perfect time for you to get to know my children better," she says as she guides you into the house. The place is spectacular. As soon as you enter, you see some people approaching.

"Miss Y/L/N, I must warn you that this family can be a bit lively, but we will try our best to welcome you with courtesy," says a girl who must be a little younger than you. She has a book in her hands and is the first to approach you as you enter.

"Eloise, don't scare off our guest. Welcome to our abode, Miss Y/L/N. My name is Colin Bridgerton, and if you need someone to talk to, I'll be available. But I know that after a journey, the best thing is a good night's rest," Colin says to you, who smiles, finding it amusing how many Bridgertons are showing up.

"I believe I should thank Miss Eloise for the warning and Mr. Bridgerton for his kindness. Although I believe I still have a long way to go until my restful moment," you say, looking at the two who seem pleased with your gratitude.

"Your dress is beautiful, Miss Y/L/N. By the way, unlike my older brothers, I know how to introduce myself. My name is Hyacinth Bridgerton." A girl who seemed not to be at the entrance of the house just moments ago suddenly appears, saying this as she walks quickly toward you.

"You're mistaking knowing how to introduce yourself with flattery, Hyacinth. I'm Gregory Bridgerton, but you can call me Gregory," says a young boy who appears to be almost the same age as Hyacinth, while the girl taps him on the shoulder. You find it cute and funny how they behave. Having siblings seems to be at least entertaining.

"The younger ones are so noisy. I wish you a pleasant stay with us, Miss Y/L/N. You'll need it. If you need some peace, just look for me. My name is Francesca," a young woman says kindly as she moves away from the confusion that this introduction session is becoming.

"Now that Miss Y/L/N has met most of the Bridgertons who reside in this house, how about having some tea in the garden of the property?" Lady Violet speaks gently, touching your arm. You nod in agreement.

"I would just like to go to the quarters where I will be staying for a change of clothing. I hope you understand, Lady Violet." You were already starting to feel pain in your back from the corset that was too tight on you.

"My dear, you can call me Violet, and you may go. I'll ask them to take you to the room where you'll be staying, and your companion will join you shortly to assist. Once you're done, I'll be in the garden waiting for you." Lady Bridgerton speaks, and you follow the servant she assigns to show you where you'll be staying. Knowing that Lydia will be with you shortly, as soon as you enter the room, you lock the door.

"What are you doing here, Miss?" A male voice speaks as soon as you lock the door, and you startle as you turn around to find a man, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, staring at you.

"I'm almost certain that I should be the one saying that, sir. I must warn you that if I were to scream, you'd be in trouble," you say, composing yourself as you observe the man looking at you curiously. Perhaps he knows that you wouldn't scream because it would ruin your reputation, or maybe he is part of the Bridgerton family, considering your mother warned you that there were three older adult brothers.

"Do you really want my family to know that I'm inappropriately dressed near you? Let me guess, you're desperate for a marriage and want to make your life easier by tying me to you?" The man speaks as he straightens up, buttoning the rest of his shirt.

"How dare you accuse me of such a strategy, considering that it is you who is in the quarters assigned to me, improperly dressed, and with an attitude worthy of pity. Honestly, my last thought at the moment would be to force a scandal so that you would have to become my husband," you reply, holding yourself near the door, keeping yourself away from whoever this Mr. Bridgerton is in front of you.

"Forgive me, Miss, but I don't trust a word coming out of your mouth at the moment. However, I assure you that this type of situation is not customary. I was trying to enter through the window of my room or one of my brothers' rooms, but I ended up in here. I had no idea that you would be arriving today. In fact, I'm being rude at this moment. I am Viscount Anthony Bridgerton," he says, approaching you cautiously as if analyzing you. Perhaps he is trying to figure out if you are an opportunist or not.

"Without intending to be rude, but already being so, whether you are a Viscount, Prince, or Duke, I don't care. What matters now is that no one finds out that we are alone here," you say, looking him squarely in the eyes, as if to firmly convey that you absolutely do not want them to be discovered.

"If you can draw the attention of the people in the house to yourself for a couple of minutes, I can leave the way I came in. Do you think that would be possible?" Anthony says with a certain petulance. However, a bold idea occurs to you. You give him a determined look and then step closer to him, bringing you both very near to each other.

"I'll simulate a small fall down the stairs. You'll have the time it takes for me to miraculously recover. Be efficient, Viscount Bridgerton," you say briefly and storm out of the room, aware that spending more time in the Viscount's presence would be a real test of your self-control. The room was starting to feel quite warm.

You descend the stairs, doing your best to appear slightly unsteady. You kick the last step with all your strength before reaching the bottom of the stairs and let out a loud groan of pain, loud enough to be heard from afar. You even manage to tear up a bit, waiting for everyone to come and check on you. Just as you are lightly sprawled on the floor, a man walks through the door. You don't remember being introduced to him before, but he is certainly a Bridgerton. He sees you and immediately rushes towards you.

"Miss, are you alright? Can I help you up?" The man asks with a concerned and caring expression. Knowing that Anthony needs more time, you let out a cry of complaint as if in fake pain when the Bridgerton in front of you tries to help you up. At that moment, you start to be surrounded by several people.

"Oh, I think I twisted my ankle, but there's no need to worry. I just need a moment," you say, uncertain if you can keep up the pretense much longer.

"My dear, don't strain yourself. Benedict will help you to a room where we can call for Dr. Lewis to examine you," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she lightly touches the arm of who you presume to be Benedict.

"May I?" Benedict asks seconds before you nod your head in agreement. But to be honest, you're not even sure what you're agreeing to. Until Benedict lifts you, asking you to put your arms around his neck. You hold on tight to him, somewhat afraid he might drop you.

"Mr. Bridgerton, you are very kind. I believe you didn't need to lift me. But I am grateful for your help," you say as you are leaned close to Benedict's chest, which you now notice is slightly exposed. What's with the Bridgertons today that everyone is showing more than they should?

"I must admit, before my family enters here, that it was amusing to take part in your charade. It was quite artistic of you. I hope you'll call on me if you want to star in another theatrical piece to get my brother out of trouble. Have a good afternoon, Miss Y/L/N," he says all this as he gently releases you onto a sofa. He doesn't seem angry or anything like that; genuinely, he seems to be enjoying himself. As soon as he leaves the room where he left you, the rest of the Bridgerton family and some servants surround you. Now you'll have to pretend to be in pain for a little while longer while you're intrigued not only by one but by two Bridgerton brothers.

#bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton x fem reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #benedict x you #colin bridgerton #violet bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #lady danbury #penelope featherington #lady whistledown #bridgerton x reader #spotify #Spotify

[di-42]

May's Magnificent Fictions

First off let me share with you a little side note, because the brain wants what the brain wants. After an inner struggle I've finally decided to settle on using the noun "fiction" as countable when referring to works of fanfiction. I will stick to this. It has been bothering me.

And now for something completely enjoyable, let me present to you the lovely fics I've been lucky enough to read in May. I't's been a busy, at times stressful month and I haven't had the chance to read as many as I would have liked. I only made a tiny dent in my Marked for later list, which keeps growing and isn't it wonderful? I still have so much beauty, creativity and bliss to look forward to.

I'll try and tag the writers whose tumblr username I know, so they know how loved they are.

WIPs:

The first two WIPs of this list have made me realise that my new favourite trope is the "they never met" one. Or it might just be that both writers are incredibly good!

My Heart Was Always Yours by @addledmongoose

I love this fic and the author's other work so much that sometimes I worry the writer might think I'm stalking them or something! (I'm not! I promise! I only kind of start staring at my phone around 6pm on a Friday night UK time waiting for an update, that's all!). Anyway. like I was saying, in this fiction Aziraphale and Crowley never met until present day and, at the beginning of the story, neither of them knows the other is an angel or a demon. They have both been tasked by their respective head offices to retrieve Raphael's trumpet so Armageddon can start and they both want to find it and destroy it. So they embark on a journey together, thinking that the other is human. This story is so good. It has an incredibly well thought out plot, the characterisation of both, Aziraphale and Crowley are spot on, their interactions are funny and witty but also deep and very sweet. But the point that's dearest to me is that it shows the character of Aziraphale the respect it deserves, which sadly happens less often than it should. The way the writer describe the building of their relationship and their trust will fill your heart with warmth. The stoty has alternate Aziraphale and Crowley POVs and it's narrated in the first person, which will read funny at first but it will flow within the first couple of chapters and it will have been worth it!

This fiction is updated officially every Saturday but if you're very lucky and depending where you are in the world it might be Friday. Only a few more weeks to go, though, it's almost complete and I'll miss it (But I'll re-read it!) Rated M.

The Last Angel by @bellisima-writes

This is another excellent "they never met" story. In this universe, Crowley and Aziraphale were stationed on earth, Armageddon happened, and Hell won the war. All the angels have been killed, except one. This story only has the first 6 chapters out, but you can already see the wonderful job the author has done of thinking how Aziraphale and Crowley would be without having ever met each other, what would be the same and what would be different. And the same goes for other characters, too: so far we've had an insight of how Beelzebub is like in a different universe and hints at how other characters would behave as well. It is full of promise, it sets expectations that I'm hoping will be subverted and the writer is doing such an excellent job with it all. Please go and show this story some love, you won't regret it!

This fiction is updated weekly, definitely every Friday, but I understand from now on every Wednesday and Friday. Rated M.

The Escort by VinyamaDN @vinyama-23

Human AU where Crowley is an escort and Aziraphale hires him for a date. They start getting to know each other and the rest is history. This story touches very delicate subjects, but it's also funny and fluffy. Please read the tags. Rated E.

Whickber Street by Caedmon @caedmonfaith

Lovely human AU where Aziraphale has a bookshop in Whickber Street and Crowley opens a comic book shop on the same road. It's a slow burn, from one-enemy-to-lovers story, full of humour, charm and fluff. Featuring all the shopkeepers in Whickber Street, which is a treat! Update every Monday and Thursday without fail. Rated E.

Complete works:

And Now All Of My Garden Is Grown In Lavender by ilikeblue

I'm so grateful to my lovely mutual and penpal @dashuntsel for recommending this great human AU. Aziraphale is a successful queer romance author whose books are being adapted for TV. At the start of his career, his agent, Gabriel, insisted he claims to be married in order to gain more readers. Now that the spotlight is on him, Aziraphale needs someone to play the part of his husband. Did I mention that Crowley is Aziraphale's gardener and friend? I'm sure you know where this is going. This story has a little angst and lots of good vibes of trust, friendship, love and loyalty. And a happy ending! Rated E.

Lit by @fellshish

Fellshish is one of my favourite fiction writers and this piece doesn't disappoint. Making people laugh is much more difficult than making people cry and fellshish succeeds in the task so effortlessly! (They can also make you laugh while wanting to cry, but for that you'll have to read their other stories. This one is angst-free). Time-wise this story can be collocated after season 1 and is not canon compliant with season 2. Crowley enrolls in a literature course without realising it was a fantasy literature course. The book that will be read this semester is "Good Omens - The Nice And Accurate Prophecies Of Agnes Nutter, Witch". And the class will get to meet the author, Neil Gaiman. This book seems to describe only too well the event leading to the failed Armageddon, including things that only Aziraphale and Crowley would know. How is that possible? And what would happen if it fell on heavenly or hellish wrong hands? And, oh Satan, did someone say TV adaptation?? A truly amazing, funny piece that will make you feel better after a hard day at work. Rated Teen and up.

Gate Duty by Ginger_cat @gingiekittycat

Not really a crossover, but a Good Omens fiction with elements of The Good Place. You can absolutely read it and enjoy it if you haven't seen The Good Place. placed in time post season 1. Aziraphale is called back to heaven to Gate Duty and he's decided to go despite Crowley's protest. Crowley has Beelzebub assign him to Gate Duty as well, so they don't have to spend 300 years apart. So they set to out to judge the souls and decide whether to send them to the good place or the bad place, as they have rebranded heaven and hell. In the process they meet a few souls that you might or might not know, not the focus of the story. This fiction manages to be funny and incredibly angsty at the same time and it was incredible to see how some of the details in it would resonate with season 2, which wasn't out at the time the fic was written. Rated E.

Of Size And Other Matters by LCwrites

Lovely from strangers to lovers, fake relationship human AU. Aziraphale needs a date to accompany him to an event hosted by his brother, Gabriel. Crowley receives a text from a stranger, clearly by mistake, but why not having some fun? I really like the dynamics between them, the ease and the trust. A tiny bit of angsty pining but quickly and happily resolved. Rated E.

One shot:

Not Nice by Sad_chaos_goblin @sad-chaos-goblin

Great one shot that follows the wall slamming scene!What would have happened if the former nun hadn't interrupted their "Intimate moment"? This fic is a treat, sweet and hot and fluffy all at the same time. Rated E.

#good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfiction recommendation #good omens fanfic rec #good omend fic rec #good omens fiction #good omens fic rec #thank you for my pornography #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 6

A/N: I'm on a roll with this one and I have the series planned to the end, so don't be surprised if I get the rest of these out relatively quickly. I'm excited to take you on the roller coaster that is the end of this one. But I think you'll love how it ends! Just hang in there!

Need to catch up? Masterlist here.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, implied sex, alcohol use, angst

Word count: ~2.7k

Reminder: this is FICTION. Please do not come at me if your favorite people don't act the way you think they would/should. It's called fanFICTION for a reason. Thanks 😬

She fades into the background easily, watching the feud that happens between Ann Margaret and Priscilla, her love for him never diminishing, but they never finish the conversation that they started.

******

Vivian spends the next year in abject misery. She moves to California in an attempt to get away from anything that reminds her of Elvis and try to jumpstart her acting career. That doesn't cure her lovesickness though. She misses Elvis desperately, kicking herself for wasting all that time telling him no. But then she realizes that even if they were together, he probably would've left her for Ann Margaret. The few times she does see him, it's obvious that he's smitten. This is the most in love she's ever seen him and she desperately wants to be happy for him. But she just can't. She runs through several guys before realizing that she's tired of the emptiness. She takes a vow of celibacy and tries to focus on her career and her hobbies. Writing poetry helps a little, but most of it is about Elvis so she ends up crumpling it and throwing it in a trash can or a fire. Just when she runs out of money and is about to go back to her stepfather in Germany, she stumbles upon modeling and finds herself more successful at that than acting. She throws herself into it, trying to ignore her pain. All in all, there doesn't seem to be a reason to go on, but she keeps trudging along, hoping something will change eventually.

******

Elvis spends the next year in a lovestruck bubble of happiness. Ann Margaret challenges him and enlivens him and brings out the best in him. She's everything he never knew he wanted. He knows he still has Priscilla at Graceland, and at night, after Ann has fallen asleep, he feels the guilt of leaving her behind. The promise to marry her still hangs over his head.

But in the really late hours on nights that he struggles to sleep at all, he thinks about Vivian. Where is she? What is she doing? Does she ever think about him? He knows how unfair it is to even have that thought, but it's there nonetheless. A couple of times his mind even drifts to the conversation they started and didn't finish. How might things be different if they had finished it? Would he have said no to Ann if he knew he had Viv? That's a question he can't answer.

Overall, he's happy. He's having his cake and eating it too.

And then Ann Margaret does an interview where she tells the reporter that she and Elvis have plans to get married. He knows this isn't possible, no matter how much he loves her. He has an agreement with Priscilla's family to marry her. And beyond that, he's not even sure that Ann would be the best choice for his wife. At the end of the day, she's too much like Vivian, too independent and headstrong. Too focused on her own career. That doesn't mean he wants to end things with Ann Margaret necessarily, but Priscilla doesn't give him an option. She wants the contract honored, and soon.

So Elvis ends the affair with Ann Margaret shortly after his conversation with Priscilla. He knows he's done the right thing, but that doesn't mean he isn't hurt. He sinks into a deep depression, refusing to leave his house or see anyone, including Priscilla. After a week, his Memphis mafia guys start to get really concerned. They're not sure what to do to bring him out of this funk.

Finally, one of them comes up with the idea of calling Vivian. They know he hasn't seen her in months, but she's managed his low moods before with grace and strong but subtle encouragement that eventually brought him back. She's their last hope, a desperate grasping at a final straw. They call her, hoping she'll agree to come.

******

Vivian find herself on the porch of Graceland with a grocery bag in one arm, knocking loudly with her other hand. She's not quite sure what she's doing here, why she agreed to come, but here she is. Turns out her heart can't tell him no, no matter what he's put her through.

She knocks again. She's been standing out here for almost fifteen minutes and the bag is starting to get heavy. The bottles clink together as she shifts.

"Elvis! It's me!" She breaks down and hollers through the window, hoping he will hear her. Finally, she hears movement inside the dark house. After a few more minutes the door opens just a crack.

"What are you doing here, Viv?"

"The guys called me. So I'm here. With presents." She jiggles the bag in her arms and the bottles clink again.

"I don't drink, Viv."

"Yeah? What have you got to lose?" She hears him sigh deeply and then he opens the door. He's disheveled in a way she can barely comprehend. His hair is everywhere and he clearly hasn't shaved recently. He has on a robe with no shirt underneath and pajama pants.

"Oh, Elvis."

"Don't fucking say anything." She walks through the door and sets the bag down, turning to face him. Then, she cups his cheek with her hand gently.

"Does it hurt this badly?" He breaks down and grabs her tightly, weeping on her shoulder. He whispers into her hair.

"I made such a mess, Viv." She wraps him in her arms and squeezes him tightly.

"I know, honey. But it's gonna be okay." He backs off of her and wipes his nose with his sleeve like a child.

"What are you here for?" She smiles gently.

"Well, first I'm here to clean you up and help you feel like yourself. And then we're gonna drink. Because you need a little fun." He nods and takes the hand she offers him. She leads him up the stairs to the bathroom where she starts the shower. She turns and heads towards the door, but he grabs her elbow softly.

"Please stay."

"You want me to stay in here?"

"Please." She nods and sits on the lid of the toilet, turning away as he undresses and steps into the shower. He showers and then she hears the water turn off.

"Viv, honey, can you hand me a clean towel?"

"Of course!" She grabs a luxurious black towel and hands it to him. When he steps out of the shower, he has it wrapped around his waist, his hair fluffy and wet, water droplets glistening on his shoulders. Her mouth drops a little at how sexy he looks in this vulnerable state. It takes everything in her power not to rip the towel off and take him into the bedroom and...

******

"Viv?"

"Yes! What?"

"You're staring at me."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry." He smiles a little, enjoying the impact he's having on her. "You want me to blow dry your hair?"

"Yes." A relieved smile crosses his face and she seats him in the chair. As she dries it, he gives her instructions on how to do it, sounding more like himself. Next, she grabs the razor and shave soap.

"Whoa, hang on. Do you know what you're doing?" He asks, nervous.

"My stepdad broke his hand once when I was in high school. I can do this." He nods.

"Okay. I trust you." He leans his head back and she goes to work lathering up his face. She drags the razor gently over his skin, removing the hair. She's careful and meticulous and he revels in the feeling of being cared for so attentively.

Maybe she would be a good wife.

Once she finishes shaving him, he puts on a pair of fresh pajamas. Then, he tosses a pair at her.

"Get comfortable. Please."

"These are going to look ridiculous on me."

"Good." He smiles and she goes in the bathroom to change. He's thoroughly enjoying her company. He didn't realize how much he had missed her, but now she's here and his affection for her washes over him like a tidal wave. She comes out of the bathroom and sure enough, she looks silly in his giant pajamas. But something about seeing her in them makes him want to rip them off of her.

"Elvis."

"Yeah?"

"You're staring at me." He laughs for the first time in a week and gestures for her to follow him. On the way down to the tv room, he grabs the grocery bag from the foyer. It's true that he doesn't drink. But tonight? Tonight feels like a good night to break his rule.

Once they're settled on the couch in the tv room with a movie set up on the projector, he pulls the bottles out of the bag. She's got a bottle of vodka, a bottle of soda water, and a bottle of peach schnapps.

"Which one of these is for me?" He asks curiously. She laughs.

"I know you're a little bitch about alcohol, so I got you something that tastes good. The vodka is for me." He nods, smiling, and she goes to the bar, grabbing a couple of glasses. She makes them both drinks and they relax to watch the movie.

Two drinks later, Elvis is already pretty tipsy, laughing openly with his arm wrapped around her. Vivian does a couple of shots to try to catch up with him.

"Hey! I want one of those."

"No, Elvis, you really don't, baby." He snickers.

"You called me baby."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, I like it, honey. More pet names. Call me more pet names." She giggles, the shots finally starting to kick in.

"Baby. Honey. Sweetie. Lover boy." He laughs at the last one.

"You can't call me lover boy without being my lover, babydoll."

"Babydoll?!"

"You don't like it?" She makes another drink for each of them and Elvis throws his back quickly.

"Elvis! Slow down! I can't keep up."

"Come on, doll face, now who's being a little bitch?"

"Well, I definitely don't like little bitch." Elvis erupts in his big-joy laugh, leaning over to rest his head on her knee while he does. She finishes her drink and makes another for each of them.

"Which one do you like best, sweetheart?" He asks, swirling his drink in his glass.

"I'm not sure, babe. Which one do you like best?" She answers, taking a sip. He takes another long drink and then turns to look at her, his eyelids heavy.

"I like this, darlin'."

"The alcohol?"

"No- well, yes- but I like being here with you." All of a sudden he gets really serious. The memory of the conversation that didn't happen comes screaming back to him. He drains his glass and then sets it on the coffee table.

"What?" She looks at him inquisitively, her eyes glazed over with drunkenness.

"You 'member that conversation we were s'posed to have. 'Fore I left?" She finishes her drink and nods.

"Yeah?"

"I was just thinkin' 'bout it, that's all." His southern accent comes out so much stronger when he's been drinking and it makes Viv giggle.

"What?" He asks, a wide smile on his face.

"You just sound like a good ole country boy right now." She mimics his accent and he laughs loudly again.

"I am a good ole country boy." She's lying back against the corner of the couch, so he crawls up between her legs and she puts her hands on his cheeks.

"I know. I like it." She kisses the end of his nose. Her deep-ocean eyes look into his intensely. "I love it."

She leans in slowly, pressing her lips to his. He pulls away first, pressing his forehead into hers as he hovers above her.

"Viv." He whispers. Then he backs away, his eyes flicking between hers and then down to her pretty mouth. He leans in slowly, lips parted, capturing hers in a sensuous kiss. His tongue grazes hers so gently, as if asking for permission.

Then he dives in fully, never looking back.

******

When Elvis finally starts to wake up, he crinkles his nose and whimpers. The headache is already beginning behind his eyes and he's so thirsty he feels like he might die if he doesn't get some water soon. He feels movement on his chest and opens his eyes to a head full of dark hair. That's when he remembers: Vivian. His mind races as he tries to think through what might've happened last night. He kissed her, but that's the only thing his foggy brain can grab onto. His heart skips a beat as a thought crosses his mind and he lifts the covers a little to try to assess the situation.

They're both naked. He swallows deeply and looks up at the ceiling. Oh shit...

He feels her shift a little on his chest, her breasts pressing up against the side of his body. She groans and stretches and he knows he has to say something.

"Umm... Viv?"

"Yeah?" She groans again, obviously feeling the effects of her drinks last night.

"Are you wearing... anything?" Her eyes pop open and she sits up suddenly. When she realizes that this means he can see her chest, she lays back down quickly and starts to slink away from him under the covers.

"Oh, God. Oh no." She whines. He grabs her and pulls her back onto his chest.

"No. Don't leave."

"Elvis, I... we-"

"I know. But I don't want you to leave. Not yet." She relaxes a little against him.

"Do you remember anything?" He tries to force his mind to focus on last night. All he sees are flashes, him running his hand up her leg, the sounds she made when she climaxed, one moment of looking into her eyes while she was on top of him, his hand on her cheek.

"Just flashes. You?"

"No, just flashes for me too."

"I remember it being really good, though." She whispers her response.

"Me too..."

They lay together in silence for a while, Elvis's mind going crazy wondering what she's thinking. He goes back to the conversation that never happened. Does she love him? Could this actually work?

"Vivian, you know, we could finish our conversation now." She sits up and looks into his face, hers painted with a look of anguish.

"No, we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because the same reason you can't be with Ann Margaret is the same reason you can't be with me."

"Priscilla."

"Yes." He puts his hand on his forehead.

"Goddamnit. Man, I really screwed myself, didn't I?" She sighs deeply.

"Elvis, you told me once that she makes sense to you. Is that still true?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then there's your answer. I don't make sense to anyone. You should marry her." His heart breaks for Viv. He wants to tell her that it doesn't matter, that she does make sense to him, that even if she didn't he would love her. But he doesn't. He knows what the right thing to do is.

So he loosens his grip on her and she gets out of the bed. She finds her clothes from where she left them to change into his pajamas last night. He lays in the bed as she dresses, trying to keep himself from crying. Losing Ann Margaret was bad, but this is pure torture.

When she's fully put back together, she stands in the doorway just looking at him and he notices that she's crying and has been the whole time.

"Vivian..." He says it softly. Then, he gets out of bed and grabs a robe from a chair, wrapping it around himself. He walks to where she's standing and she collapses into his chest, sobbing. He holds her in his arms and kisses the top of her head. "I'm sorry."

She nods into him and then pulls back, wiping her face. He tries to catch her eyes but she won't look up at him. Without another word, she turns and walks out of the room, down the stairs, and through the front door, leaving him standing in the doorway. When he hears the front door latch, he falls to his knees and sobs.

Vivian is gone. He proposes to Priscilla in December of 1966.

******

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #Elvis x Vivian #Elvis Presley x Vivian choquette #your loves been a long time coming #ylbaltc

[olderthannetfic]

You know what I want to see more of in fiction? Older nonbinary people.

My... parent's sibling (please someone tell me if you have a nongendered term for aunt/uncle) came out as nonbinary recently, they're in their late 60s, and it made me realise that NBs of their generation just don't really get much fictional representation. Being nonbinary is thought of as something for young people, and we're starting to see more nonbinary human characters in fiction, but they're almost always in their teens and twenties, occasionally like 30, and never over 40.

My neither-aunt-nor-uncle is a grandparent, they're completely grey, they came out a little after their second grandkid was born, they're not "blue hair and pronouns*", they're just some boring old person who happens to not have a gender.

I want to be able to point at a fictional character and go "hey, they're like my relative!" they way I can point at a teenage lesbian character and go "hey, she's like my sister!".

I'm using they/them here, but my neither-aunt-nor-uncle is still trying to decide on pronouns. They say they/them fits best but feels too young and trendy, but the other neopronouns take too much effort to explain and there are too many to choose from.

--

[impishjesters]

Siri? No. Rambley! (Ch 1?)

ship: Rambley x Reader relationship: can be read platonically or romantically note(s): I fudged over a bunch of tech jargon cause I'm too stupid for that stuff and who cares it's fan fiction anyways! The reader has no gender or pronouns used. A/N: So I may or may not be working on a lil AU/series for this whole idea~

“Are you sure that’ll work?”

Rambley leans impossibly closer to the screen as if it would help him see over your shoulder. “Uh-huh! Or well, I don’t see why it wouldn’t?” He leaned away from the screen and you finally met his gaze. “Just copy everything of importance to the drive and plug me in!”

It feels unrealistic and far too easy to just copy what makes Rambley well, Rambley and he’ll suddenly come to life on the cheap laptop. “If you say so, just… if something feels wrong, stop me okay?”

The digital raccoon paused his happy dance and stared at you before shooting you a thumbs-up. “A little silly if you ask me, but okay!” He placed his hands together and rested his chin on them, watching you intently.

You’re not a rocket scientist, so it doesn’t take much for you to get stumped on what’s considered “important” to keeping Rambley alive so to speak. Rambley watched on the monitor behind you, tail waving rhythmically behind him as he hummed and guided you to what folders were important, etc.

After about an hour you’ve properly copied everything needed onto the laptop. The digital raccoon lets out an exhausted sigh—like he did all the hard work—and looks at you. “That should be everything! Now plug the laptop into the console and I’ll see if I can hop over!”

Rambley is unphased by your deadpan stare aimed at him after his silly joke and focuses on the laptop. “Plug it in! Plug it in!” he chanted.

“Alright little bunny, hold your horses.”

He stopped his chants and looked at you with a smug expression. “Horses you say?”

“Shush. I’m working.”

Rambley rests his chin on his hands, tail swaying behind him again. “Nu-huh~ You just need to plug me in and—”

With ease you connect the laptop to a nearby computer, and despite the fear that this old worn-out technology might fry the laptop and the realistic factor that this probably isn’t how this whole thing works. You plug the laptop into Rambley’s system.

The monitor Rambley was on flickered and distorted, his raccoon avatar glitching frantically. “O-ooooOooOoOoooOOOOo… that feels funny!”

“Like… a bad funny or? Should I unplug it??” You ask worryingly, he’s never been this buggy before.

“NO! DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!” His voice distorts causing you to flinch at the volume before his screen altogether goes black.

Almost immediately your eyes are drawn to the laptop, watching the now black screen glitching out. The longer the silence grows the deeper the worry bubbles in your stomach. Did you somehow…kill him?

After several minutes of sitting and waiting the screen flickers to life, a bright white before Rambley’s face pops on screen looking comically confused, cheesy tweeting birds flying around his head. “Woah… that felt funny…”

Rambley’s voice echoes behind you instead of from the laptop. Looking back at the monitor you quickly notice it’s still Rambley but without the silly chirping birds around his head. Gaze flickering between the two copies of Rambley you push your chair back from the desk in confusion. “Uh, what’s happening?”

The Rambley on the monitor looks between you and the laptop. “Well, I managed to upload and copy part of myself onto it!” When your expression doesn’t change from confusion he settles on a more simplified answer. “I’m both here and on the laptop.”

The Rambley on your laptop finally snaps out of it and perks up seeing you and his own self on the bigger monitor. “It worked!”

“Wait,” you ignore the laptop Rambley and stare at the monitor. “You’re in both at the same time? Isn’t that… confusing?”

Rambley laughs and pats his screen like he would giving someone a head pat. “The laptop isn’t big or strong enough for all of me. So I was able to take a piece of me and put it on the laptop.” He explains. “So as long as you’re able to keep the laptop connected via a Wi-Fi or internet connection, I can freely switch between the two!”

The monitor shuts off and Rambley waves his hands excitedly on the laptop. “This means that while I can’t leave the park entirely, I can easily connect to the laptop via the internet!” He pauses and crosses his arms, tapping his chin curiously. “I wonder if it would work on your phone too?”

Feeling overwhelmed from all the information you rub at your temples and adjust in the uncomfortable chair. “How about we leave that for a different time Rambles?”

Rambley perks up at the name and nods his head. “Oh, of course! It’s getting late now, you—or rather we— should go home!” He giggles at the mention of home with a level of excitement you don’t think you’ve ever seen.

You grab the laptop bag and unplug the laptop from the monitor, tucking it away in the bag, and finally look at Rambley. “I’ll have to close the laptop Rambles. But as soon as I get home, I’ll open the laptop up for you okay?”

His shoulders slump at the mention of closing the laptop, and instead of trying to argue about keeping it open for him to see everything he simply nods with a pout.

You gently pet the top of your screen near the webcam and smile at him. “It won’t take long sweetie, the second I get inside I’ll open the laptop. I’ll even show you around my—our place.” You quickly correct yourself, and it’s worth it to see Rambley’s entire self perk back up in excitement.

“Okay! Be safe!” Rambley disappears from the laptop screen and pops up on the monitor nearby again. “I’ll wait here, and as soon as I sense a stable connection I’ll pop over!”

You have questions on how exactly he’s able to hop between the two despite the distance, but that’s a whole event for another time.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon Rambles.” You kiss your fingers and place them on his monitor before packing up the laptop and making your way out of the park, holding the laptop like it carries the most prized possession in the universe.

And it did, it carried your Rambles.

#indigo park #indigo park rambley #indigo park x reader #rambley x reader #rambley the raccoon

[s1llysmut]

Hey hey!! So sorry if ur requests aren't open- but if they are, NSFW alphabet with Vox mayhaps?

Love ur work!! Can't wait to see more!

A/N: Awww thank you so much!!!!

NSFW Alphabet for Vox

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s clingy as fuck. He leaves cleaning up for later. Right now you two are going to cuddle until you both fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his wires. He loves how he can tie you up with them. On you he loves your tits if you have any. He’s a boob lover.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums in you or on your face. That’s it. And there’s no way he’s using a condom.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes it when you’re dominant from time to time. Tie him up and edge him and he’ll love you forever.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s moderately experienced. I have a feeling he’d need your help finding the clit (if you have one).

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style. He loves watching that ass jiggle.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To him it’s okay if he’s goody but if you’re goofy he gets all insecure.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He genuinely doesn’t care how it looks. He lets it grow how it wants. I have a feelings it’s somehow black and blue.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can be very very intimate. He’s whipped for you. However if he’s feeling pissed off by Alastor, you’re getting fucked senseless.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He has a shit ton of photos of you and he uses them to get off anytime you’re not around.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage. He doesn’t care if it’s you or him being tied up. He just loves the concept.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His office. Absolutely. Loves fucking you in his office.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If you do anything to try and seduce him. Bend over in front of him, whisper in his ear, kiss his neck, anything.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn’t do roleplay as anyone. Even fictional. It would hurt his feelings that you want him to pretend to be someone else.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers you giving him head. He loves seeing you on your knees sucking him off. It boosts his ego.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

If he’s stressed or angry he’s going to fuck you fast and hard, but if he’s feeling lovey dovey he’s gonna take his time with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He likes them a regular amount.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes. He loves the adrenaline rush of trying new things especially risky things.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for a damn while. He loves feeling overstimulated.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Since he’s such an innovative man I feel like he buys any new sex toy on the market and gets you and him to try it out. Then he gives Valentino a report on it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can’t tease you for long. He folds too easily. He’s the kinda guy who thinks with his dick.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s loud. He has no shame. If he feels good, everyone in hell is gonna know.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You’ve definitely had a foursome with Velvette and Val. He wants to brag about your skills and smoking hot body.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Pretty big. About 8 inches!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high. Almost as high as Valentino’s.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Very quickly. He will lay on your chest and sleep like a baby.

#hazbin hotel #smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin smut #smut fic #headcanon #smut headcanons #smut alphabet #hazbin x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox #vox the tv demon

[evilasiangenius]

“From here the stars are all obscured,” Aziraphale said, disappointed. “I’m so sorry, my dear. I know you wanted to see the stars.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” Crowley shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if there are stars or no stars. I just like being with you.” He reached out to touch the downward pointing lapel of Aziraphale’s pale overcoat, gently brushing off a little moth that had alighted upon the pale creamy fabric; before they left the apartment, they had changed miraculously from their evening wear to some ordinary clothing.

Aziraphale smiled at him, in that way that was not one of his polite customer service smiles, fictional and vague, but with a genuine and deep warmth that Crowley could clearly see even in the shifting light of a passing delivery truck’s headlights that almost obscured the angel’s expression.

“I like being with you too. I’m so glad you came. I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea but…” Aziraphale looked around. “You know, it’s one thing to do the ordinary day-to-day work of miracles and blessings, but when it’s an official thing, sometimes I get nervous. Well, all right, I am always nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I’m not capable of blessings or divine inspiration, but-” Aziraphale paused, and Crowley waited patiently for him to continue. “It just seems that I...I’m afraid that somehow I’ll make a mistake. That I’ll somehow mess it up, when it’s an official thing. That when it matters, maybe I can’t do it properly.”

“Oh.” Crowley glanced at the angel, who was hugging himself, and then he put his arms around Aziraphale, drawing them to a halt in the deep shadow of a building, his chin upon the angel’s head. “I know you. You always do the right thing. Even...when you don’t want to.”

“Yes.” Aziraphale’s arms moved about Crowley with a vague hesitation before closing tight around him. “I suppose you’re right.” His words were muffled against the black fabric of Crowley’s suit, but Crowley heard him clearly.

“I know you don’t make mistakes when it comes to important things,” Crowley said softly. “And I believe in you. You’re much stronger and more able than you think.”

“I wish I would believe that too, my dear. You know, I’m so glad that…” Aziraphale sighed. “I’m sorry that I ruined our vacation-”

“No, no, it’s fine. Let’s just get this over with so we can go have some breakfast on the ship. Oh, and before dinner, could we go for a cocktail in the Observation Lounge? And I want to try the camel riding machine in the gymnasium. Never heard of such a thing; I want to know if it bites and spits properly like a real camel.”

“Yes, let’s do that. All of those things. And sit in the library together – I’ll read you something if you like, there’s a book that I’ve been reading that I think you might enjoy and we should try the Verandah Grill for lunch sometime, and oh! let’s go window-shopping, there are supposed to be many shops on the Promenade Deck. And if you don’t mind, my dear, let’s also go to the writing room.”

“The writing room?”

“I want to write a letter.”

“To whom?” Crowley wondered. “After all, I’m here-”

“Oh, to you, my dear.”

“Even though I’m here?”

“I just like writing letters.” Aziraphale tightened his grip around Crowley in a spontaneous moment of joy, wiggling them about to and fro and surprised, Crowley laughed.

“Then write me a letter. A long one. Tell me how much you’re enjoying our vacation.”

“I will,” Aziraphale promised, and then without warning the angel stepped back, letting go reluctantly. “Sorry, my dear. Look at the time, we had best hurry.”

x

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #midatlantic date night was interrupted by work #and crowley is tagging along

[justabigoldnerd]

Find The Word Game

Haha thank you so much for the tag again, @the-golden-comet !!

Rules: Share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the word in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word)

My Words: hope, realize, tandem, fall

Your Words: chain, country, neutral, instinct

Hope: (From an unnamed MCD ficlet I may or may not have the balls to finish lol)

What if Gaby was right? It wouldn't be unlike their American partner to fake his death. But he would've told them somehow, wouldn't he? Gotten word to them so they didn't think he was actually dead. The CIA, then? Severing the last of his connections to people he cared for, who cared for him? Surely, when Illya opened the left eye, he would see that the man on the table wasn't his Cowboy. Taking a deep breath, Illya pushed upwards, revealing a thin, dull ring of blue in the center of a blood-filled eye, almost swallowed by the blown pupil. A knot formed in Illya's throat. A knot of hope.

Realize: (From "Never Fall In Love With A Stranger", a Library AU)

Illya loves this library. He's been going to it since his mother moved them from Moscow when he was twelve years old. The staff were always kind when the kids at school weren't, so he'd end up there most days. Then when he got older and began getting into fights, Ms. Kathy from the Children's Center always had an ice pack, butterfly stitches, and a snack ready for him. They never asked why or how he ended up with split lips and bloody noses, they just cared for him when he felt that no one else in the world did. He knew every inch of the building, from the aforementioned Children's Center, to the Reference Desk and non-fiction section, even the older ladies in the Heritage Center that he only visited to chat with. So when the first new face in almost twenty years shows up behind the Reference Desk, Illya notices immediately. And he feels….angry, for some reason. Betrayed. He isn't sure why, but the change makes his heartbeat thunder in his ears. There is a stranger in his library. A toddler shoots past him from the Children's Center, and only then does Illya realize he's been rooted to the spot. His face heats and he shakes himself out of his frozen state, pushing forward and resolving to spend the day with Mrs. Denise and Mrs. Patricia.

Tandem: (From "I Am Your Lover (I Am Your Jailor)" . I actually had to write a new sentence to include this word lol I've never written it!)

The sunlight was warm and soft, reflecting off of the last of the dew dampening the forest and making it glitter like emeralds. Solo's jaw was set in a purposefully neutral expression, but his knuckles were white on the reins. Parsdorf shook his coat to shake off some of the tension he was feeling, and Artem, riding tandem to him, sighed heavily.

Fall: (From "The X-Men From U.N.C.L.E.")

Gaby kept a two-way radio hidden on her at all times. She could tap into the frequency of it somehow and hear through it. That was how she was able to hide her deafness for so long. She was in high-school when a pack of boys a grade above her cornered her and took her radio, plunging her back unto silence while they laughed and jeered and threw it between them. The leader of them crouched in front of a trembling Gaby and spat something at her that she couldn't hear, waggling the radio in the air. When she didn't respond, he stood up and let it fall from his hand. Gaby flinched and tears stung at her eyes, but she kept her glare level, even as he stomped it to pieces.

No pressure to make a new one or use these new words for anyone who has already done/is planning on doing on of these!!! Gonna no-pressure-tag my usuals anyway 💕💕💕

@pippinoftheshire @yallwildinrn @huggiebird @too-young-to-fall-in-love @times-up-alone-tonight

@cha-melodius @heytheredeann @thattripleabattery and anyone else who wants to join!!

#tmfu #the man from uncle #tmfu movie #illya kuryakin #napoleon solo #napollya #gaby teller #xmen first class #x men #crossover #library au #medieval au #tag game #find the word game