#OR MUSIC MOUTH OR NOT STANLEY HERE?!???

[ms-scarletwings]

I know they say to be the change you want to see in the world but I sure got some work to do and then some if that’s the case

#edmund mcmillen #khs #David firth #kitty horrorshow #indie games #indie animation #my memes #cries in ‘loving a famous artist for something other than the specific work that blew them up’ #anatomy fans will populate a site with endless outpourings of how much they love hostile scenery and being eaten by the setting itself #and then say nothing about haunted cities vol 4 #NO ONE TALKS ABOUT DOG OF MAN???? #OR MUSIC MOUTH OR NOT STANLEY HERE?!??? #scarlet rambles about things #DO YOU EVEN KNOW THE FETAL DUMPLING LORE #OR THE TRAGEDY OF THE TRI ARACHNIDS #OR C O I L 😭 #lol #grain of salt #let me be silly #ofc I love the mentioned works as well

[leclsrc]

prolonged eye contact with charles please! ++ an "almost kissed" type trope

intertwined – cl16

All seems lost after you fail to kiss the cute guy at George's party. Key word: seems.

auds here... i love uuu guys sorry bit mia i'm a bit sick but love u all always working on other reqs as we speak promise! title from this

There are still traces of orange in the purple sky when George introduces you to his good friend, Charles.

The party had somewhat simmered down, lunch leftovers being reheated for dinner in case anybody was staying that long. Faces here were unfamiliar, smiling and flushed with alcohol, topics like London and cars and taxes making conversation glide easy. But you’d still been quiet, your companion having left you to talk about something or other, leaving you backed into a far corner of the room examining pages of books and listening to the music.

So it’s George, one of the two hosts at this party, who asks if you’re doing alright and oh, didn’t you mention you liked piano, well this is Charles and he plays proper well, he does.

“Do you play for a living?” You ask, both of you walking to the house’s garden area. You lean against the wall there, sizing him up.

“No, I”—he tries to find the right wording—“piano is a hobby. I drive. Cars.” He’s a tad tall, with long fluffy hair and eyes that look a little tired, despite the deep green of them.

“Oh? Thanks for the clarification.” You reply curtly. “Almost thought you were going to say you drive a lorry.” 

He chuckles. “That’s how I know George.”

“What, lorry driving?” You both laugh, and it’s easy. It’s all easy. You tell him you own a gallery in Chelsea, you tell him your heels hurt so much it’s a wonder you paid so much money for them, he laughs, he asks some more. It’s so easy, in fact, that eventually George has to come in and dispel the conversation himself, and it’s only then that you realize the whole indoors area has been emptied; Carmen smiles sheepishly, holding a stack of dirtied bowls. 

He walks you to your car, which is parked far away from the house. You complain about the shit parking configuration in Stanley Gardens and he agrees even if he’s never here too long, or too often. The heels are a proper impediment to your walking, and you have to stop a few times, much to your chagrin.

At the third lamppost you stop at to adjust your ankle, just a few steps from your car, he offers to carry your shoes for you.

“Is it socially acceptable?” You stare at your feet and then at him, hiding a smile. “Walking barefoot in London?”

“Your car’s just there”—he points to your Lexus—“and it’s nearing midnight, I don’t think anyone will mind. If they do, run like hell, yes?” You laugh, easing yourself out of the shoes. The asphalt is cold and you’re already thinking of washing the dirt off, but it’s so much more comfortable.

Charles carries your coat and shoes, opens the door for you when you unlock it. You’re halfway inside, eyes meeting his from where he stands behind the door, smiling shyly. “Thanks. Did you—are you parked far? I can…”

“I could use the walk,” he says, smiling.

“Okay,” you whisper. He hands you your coat and shoes, and you lean closer to take them from him. You’re divided only by the car now, eyes stuck on the other’s. He leans closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. Closer, a bit closer—and then your phone rings, loud in the quiet evening.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, it’s—I have a boyfriend.” It leaves your mouth in a garbled, shameful utterance, and your face warms.

He shuts his eyes, stopping just shy of your face. “Right. Okay.”

—

“Did you guys even date?” Your friend Mila asks, amused.

“Christ, no. I don’t even know why I called Tom my boyfriend—plus, that whole thing ended like two months ago.” You make a right on the next street, eyes squinting as you find a place to park in the crowded street. 

“Right. ‘Cause you met that Charles guy at Carmen’s party.”

“Yeah, the one you left me alone at?” You click your tongue, laughing. “Well, yeah. But I didn’t even get his number at the time, and it—it seemed like a dead end thing.”

“He walked you to your car, held your shoes and the door, almost kissed you—that’s the most romantic guys ever get these days, isn’t it?”

“Sure. But that was two months ago.”

You snag a spot right in front of your gallery and turn off the car, unbuckling your seatmate and climbing out. You hope the conversation has died with the car ride—you really don’t wish to rehash a fling lost to bad timing. Unfortunately for you, Mila is already launching into the topic when you cross onto the sidewalk and greet your staff inside.

She pushes the glass entrance open. “Who’s to say fate won’t let it happen again?”

“Let what happen?” Your assistant, Greg, who is almost if not just as nosy as Mila, pipes up. Lucky you.

“Nothing, Greg. Back to work,” you say, at the same time Mila says: “She almost banged a race driver.”

“Mila!” You swat her arm, and she smiles, but eventually leaves it alone, spending an hour dicking around before leaving to go to her own office. 

The day descends into usual work: calls from clients, from art collectors, from regulars, from Sotheby’s or Tate. Visits are scattered throughout the afternoon, Greg taking the time to tour them around and offer what pieces are for sale; you’re content taking calls and emails, doing most of the behind-the-scenes work. “Potential buyer,” Greg announces, popping his head into your office door. “I’ll leave it to you.”

These types of customers are always entrusted to you, for the nitty gritty questions and negotiations. You nod, raking a hand through your hair and walking into the wide area of the gallery; there’s a man turned to a Cezanne piece, stance stoic and stature tall.

“That’s a lovely one,” you say as an introduction.

The man turns. He is also Charles. You genuinely think your heart skips a beat; his eyes widen in brief surprise before relaxing, and so do yours.

He asks if he’s right, if you’re you, the one at George’s party in Notting Hill a few months ago. You confirm his statement with a polite smile. A handshake is exchanged, a price discussed, conversation about where it goes made. You migrate to your office to maybe seal the deal, though by then the conversation has quickly grown casual.

“Had I known this was your gallery, I would’ve tried to avoid it,” he confesses. “I don’t want your boyfriend getting jealous.”

Your face is warm when you cough. “Right, uh—no boyfriend.”

You refuse to watch his smile, but you feel his eyes on you as you rifle through paperwork.

You continue with the business portion of the conversation anyway. “I’ll be in touch, see if we can level a price within the next month. But in the meantime keep this and… my card.” You slip a few documents into his hand, noticing the way his grip seems to linger, and he stands to signal his departure.

“I’ll get going,” he says, smiling. “Merci. For your number.”

You open the door for him, in a flirty repeat of the last time you saw each other. He exits, then turns, eyes boring into yours. “I’ll see you,” you say, seeking his affirmation, his accented English telling you what you want to hear.

“You will.” And he’s so near you again, his cologne is all you can smell. He bends down, eyes meeting your lips. “Soon.” Then, in a second of cologne and a smile, he’s leaving you unkissed, like you did him two months ago, holding your card in-between two hands as he drives into the orange sky, left still with traces of purple.

#f1 #leclsrc3000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader

[hockeyboysimagines]

F*ck me like I’m famous

Chapter 1

Warnings: Sex, mentions of alcohol/Bars, some language.

Pairings: Vince Dunn x Josie Hendricks(OC)

There’s no summary for this because I’m literally winging it as I go. But I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you guys think🤍 I promise I’ll update my unfinished fics. My hiatus for the summer is over.

Big shoutout to @cellythefloshie for helping me title this thing, and all the support and encouragement.

He’s actually the most beautiful man on the planet I think.

“What the hell is a Stanley cup?” Josie yelled over the pounding music of the club she was in.

“It’s what you win in the NHL I think.” Kelly, her best friend yelled back “Like at the end you win it. It’s like a trophy.”

“And it’s this big of a deal?”

Josie had never seen this club, or any club like this before. It was packed to the brim, bodies practically crushing other bodies all of which were screaming. The ones closest to the bar were being occasionally drowned in champagne, or beer or whatever was spraying from a bottle. She had no idea what the Stanley cup was, or who was celebrating it but they sure were having a good time.

“I guess so.” Kelly shrugged, standing on tiptoe to see across the bar. Now and again someone would let out a cheer and the whole club would join in.

“I’m getting a drink.” Josie yelled, motioning to the bar and pointing. Kelly nodded and turned back to the rest of their friend group as Josie made her way slowly to the bar. It took ages to get there, and she avoided champagne spray twice, but finally she arrived at the bar getting the bartenders attention and practically screaming her order. She drummed her fingers on the bar turning to look for her friends when a spray of champagne splashed across her shirt and halfway up her neck. Her mouth fell open and she gasped, eyes closing on instinct before she glanced down at the foam and liquid dripping off her cream colored shirt, which was now see through.

“Oh shit I’m so sorry-“ the guy holding the bottle said. He was staring at her mouth open, gripping the bottle in one hand “Really I’m an asshole, uh here do you want a napkin? My shirt. I’ll give you my shirt-“

“No it’s fine really-“

“No seriously hold this.” He tried to push the bottle into her hands and remove his shirt.

“No please keep it on I-“

“Schwartzy you idiot what are you doing?” She turned to find another person had joined them.

Josie was certain she was looking into the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen. Attached to them was a very nice looking face, which was connected to a very very hot guy. She realized she was staring at him, mouth open with a shirt that was now completely see through and blushed.

“Hi.” He said with a smile. He gave her a once over, eyes stopping momentarily over her visible lacey pink bra and then landing back on her face.

“Hi-uh hi.” She smiled back, face on fire. He patted “Schwartzy” on the shoulder and chuckled, fixing his shirt which was half off of his body, before turning back to her.

“Sorry about him. He’s had just a little too much.” Vince attempted to tug the bottle from his hands but he protested.

“I have not-“

“I’m Vince.” He reached for her hand, gripping it tightly, finger brushing hers in a way that seemed unnecessary, and gave her small goosebumps, and made her face get red.

“Josie.”

“Like Josie and the pussycats?” They both turned to find that Schwartzy was still standing there with his champagne bottle in hand, blinking at her and smiling.

She chuckled and nodded “Yes exactly like that.”

“No shit?” He blinked again and looked at Vince. Vince however was still looking at her, smile still present.

His black t-shirt was soaked in liquor and sticking to him in a way that left very very little to the imagination, even in the darkness of the club. She watched as his eyes moved down her, slower this time before coming back up and gesturing to her shirt.

“I’m sorry about that. He can be a real idiot.”

“You mentioned. It’s okay though. I was about to head home anyway.”

That was a lie. Josie had no intention on heading home but she was now soaked in champagne, had a headache and was now uncomfortable being this exposed in front of the extremely hot stranger named Vince.

“You can’t leave!” Schwartzy slurred at her “We’re celebrating! We won THE STANLEY CUP!” He held his arms up and turned to the crowd who started screaming along with him. She laughed and turned to Vince who was smiling.

“He’s right. You should stay. Let me buy you a drink. My way of apologizing for my dumb friend here.”

Josie bit her lip and glanced over at her friends who were talking with a group of guys. Vince’s arm appeared over her shoulder and he leaned down closer to her face.

“Those are my friends, and I’m pretty sure those are your friends. And they look busy, and you look thirsty so please. Let me buy you a drink.” He smiled a very bright white smile, and Josie smiled back at him in spite of herself.

“Well. Okay. Sure thanks.”

He put a hand on the small of her back and led her to an area a little further away from where they had been, that was slightly more secluded.

“Much better.” He said pulling a stool out for her and gesturing for her to sit “I could barely hear you.”

He turned to order her a drink and then turned to look at her. He was fantasy hot, almost intimidating if she was being honest. Guys like him didn’t bother with girls like her, and yet here he was buying her a drink and sitting across from her.

“I’ve never seen this place so crowded.” She remarked glancing around before looking back at him “I didn’t realize hockey was this big of a deal here.”

He grinned “Oh yeah? You don’t like hockey?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just don’t know anything about it.” She smiled and he felt his stomach do a little swoop.

She was beautiful, not in the way he was normally accustomed to seeing, but beautiful all the same. It had been a long time since he’d been around girls that weren’t models, that it took him a back to see just a regular girl, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t refreshing. There was something about her that was so simple and natural that it made her 10,000 times more attractive to him than any model could ever be. The best thing about her is that she could be a model if she wanted, but she didn’t seem the type. Which was nice.

What made her even better was that she didn’t seem to know who he was at all. She was just a girl, accepting a drink from a guy at the bar, both of whom happened to be caught up in this Stanley Cup Championship party. She had no idea he was a hockey player, and if she did she was a great actress because she looked genuinely clueless as she watched the celebration unfold.

“You should watch it sometime.” He said offhandedly passing her the drink the bartender set on the bar top.

She shrugged “‘Maybe. I don’t like violence though. Seems kind of dangerous and risky.”

“Not a risk taker?”

“Me?” She shook her head and leaned forward to sip her drink through the straw “Not at all. I don’t like risks, danger, fast cars, or this drink Ew.” She scrunched her face up “I don’t drink very often and this is why. That was terrible.”

Vince chuckled “So what do you like?”

You she thought to herself. God was he gorgeous. She’d obviously known right away that he was more attractive than your average guy but he was something else up close. He was so good looking he didn’t seem real, and maybe he wasn’t. This was her 5th drink, and she usually strictly enforced a two drink limit. For all she knew she may be hallucinating him, or this could all be a dream.

“Oh I don’t know. I’m pretty boring actually. I’m not that interesting.” That was partially true, at least in her mind. Her friends were free spirited and fun, which left her to mostly play “Mom.” She spent most of her nights out looking after her friends, and most of the time she just didn’t wanna do it. She loved them, but always having to babysit got old after a while.

“Now that I find hard to believe. Your the most interesting thing I’ve seen all night.”

She quirked an eyebrow “Oh yeah? How so?”

He gestured around “This just doesn’t seem like a place I’d find a girl like you in. I can tell your uncomfortable.”

“Okay true. I mean I’m mostly uncomfortable because my shirt is now see through, but even before then all I wanted to do was leave.” She smiled a little and shrugged, watching him as his eyes moved a third time over her shirt and then back up to her face “Nothing against a night out, it’s just not really my thing.”

“We’ll if going out isn’t your thing, how do you feel about dancing?” He jerked his head back over his shoulder to the dance floor “Is dancing your thing?”

“For you it could be.”

She followed him to the dance floor, a thrall of excitement moving through her as he turned to look behind him to make sure she was there, and then extended a hand so they didn’t get separated in the thick of the crowd. He slid his fingers in between hers and tugged her by the hand. She wasn’t a huge dancer, but she wasn’t going to say no to being that close to him. Especially when his hands settled on her waist and she was flush against him. She was thankful for the pounding music of the club to mask the pounding of her heart that was so loud she could feel it in her ears.

The alcohol was beginning to blur her senses and her nerves died down as pounding music shook the floors and reverberated into her ears. Vince’s hand was warm on her waist as they moved to the music. Josie pulled back a second to look up at him, hair spilling back over her shoulders, brushing against his hand. His other hand came up to her shoulder, finger tracing across her collarbone as he pushed the rest of her hair over her shoulder. He stared at her for a long moment, eyes moving from hers, to her mouth back up to her eyes.

And then he was kissing her, right there in the middle of the dance floor while people yelled and carried on around them. It was a kiss unlike any other she’d ever had. It sent a butterfly that went from her lips all the way down to her lady parts and stayed there flapping away.

Next thing she knew they were making out in the back of an Uber, and then stumbling into his apartment. She usually had a strict rule of not going home with guys she just met, for self preservation purposes, but he was just too beautiful to be a serial killer. And if he was, then she hoped the sex was good before he decided to murder her.

Her shirt, which was stiff from the dried champagne on it went first, thrown haphazardly to the side as they grabbed at each other in their haste to get rid of clothes between them. Then his shirt and pants, her skirt, both their shoes until finally they were both down to their underwear. He grabbed at her waist and turned her, both of them landing on his mattress, hands all over each other.

Josie’s whole body was shaking in anticipation as his hand moved down her waist, and slid slowly in between her legs. She closed her eyes as she felt Vince’s tongue slide across the skin of her neck, teeth grazing her skin. She let a breath as he bit down on her collarbone, pelvis grinding up against her own as he settled between her legs. He looked up, a lock of hair hanging across his forehead and smiled at her, lips moving down her chest and to her abdomen. She could feel his hot breath somewhere near her belly button and propped herself up to look at him.

The muscles in his shoulders rolled under his skin as he moved slowly down and pressed an open mouth kiss on her lower stomach. She shivered and watched as he ran a finger over the band of her underwear. He glanced up again, eyes piercing her soul. He never broke eye contact as he let his mouth ghost over the fabric of her underwear. She gasped, arms becoming rigid as he did it again, mouth pressing more firmly against the fabric. Her head fell back and she clamped her eyes shut. If this was what normal sex was like, she’d been missing out.

She felt her stomach flip flop as he pulled both legs up and propped himself up on his elbows. He splayed a hand across her stomach and gave her waist a squeeze.

“Can I take these off?” He said, giving the waist band a small snap. Josie nodded and lifted her hips so he could slide them down her legs. The apartment was mostly dark, which she was thankful for as she felt blood rush to her face, and heat creep through her body as he pulled them over her feet, tossing them to the side. It was illuminated enough however, both by the city lights and the full moon that was beaming through the window, that she could see him clearly enough as he leaned down again, finger tracing up her leg to her inner thigh.

“Vince I-“ she said shakily, but he gave her leg a reassuring squeeze.

“Shhhhh. Let me take care of you.” He said lowly, with a small smile as he leaned down to kiss her inner thigh. She felt like she was going to explode, by the time he made his way back up her body. A thin sheen of sweat had now covered both of them, she felt his abdomen brush against her own and realized he had come back up to be level with her face. She had been so preoccupied with his activities between her legs she hadn’t even noticed he stopped. He kissed her heavily, leaving a wet trail around her mouth, and kicking his boxers down his legs. He pulled away and let out a huff, leaning over her to pull open a bedside drawer and gosh put a condom. He opened it with his teeth, and rolled it on, pushing her legs open wider.

She closed her eyes as he slid a hand across her chest and up her neck, resting on her jaw.

“Hey.” She opened them to find him staring at her “Ready?”

She nodded and took a deep breath, glancing down between them but he pushed her head up “Look at me.”

She shivered as he pushed in slowly at first, head falling forward as he pulled out and pushed in more firmly. While Josie wouldn’t consider herself “inexperienced”, she felt it at that moment. He definitely knew what he was doing and for the first time in her life she was worried about her performance.

But she had little time to think more about it because Vince grabbed her left leg and pulled it up, pushing back in, causing her to gasp. He grinned and did it again, finding a rhythm.

Josie felt like she was on fire. Her whole body was in sensory overload, and she felt almost feverish. But it felt good. In fact she felt better than she had in a long time. He let go of her leg and and leaned forward, kissing her heavily. She gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he continued to move in and out, agonizingly slow. His fingers came around her throat and he squeezed lightly, as her eyes slid closed and she arched her back off the bed.

He kissed her throat, and up the side of her face till he found her mouth, stealing her air as he moved his lips roughly against hers as he pushed harder and faster. Josie let out a ragged breath and bit her lip to hold in a scream, fingers gripping the sheets.

“Scream.” He whispered in her ear, hot breath tickling the side of her neck. He threaded a hand through her hair and gave it a tug, cranking her neck back, which made her illicit a gasp and a moan. He smiled down at her “Good girl.” He whispered tugging on it again.

Josie felt the beginnings of what turned out to be a blinding, toe curling orgasm that made her scream as it roared through her body, making her shake. Vince rode it out, face buried in her neck.

Her eyes closed and opened several times to find him staring at her.

“You okay?” He ran a hand over her chest and up her neck, thumb stroking her jaw. She smiled sweetly at him and touched his cheek, nodding and pulling him down to kiss her.

He pulled out and laid next to her, attempting to catch his breath. He glanced over at her. The light was only illuminating her silhouette in the darkness of his apartment, but she looked perfect. She rolled on her side to face him and smiled.

Her eyes slid closed and she stretched, letting out a breath. He could see her glancing around and she made a move to get up and before he could stop himself he blurted out “Do you wanna stay?”

She stopped, sheet pulled up around her chest before he continued “Its pretty late and it just started to rain.” He nodded at the window, which indeed had raindrops beginning to form on it.

“I mean. Sure I guess? If you want.”

He gave her a once over, and smiled. Sheet pulled up around her chest, face flushed, hair tousled around her shoulders and back, hell yeah he wanted her to stay “I do.” He reached forward and let his hand run down her shoulder, before pulling her over and kissing her, which went on for several minutes before he pulled away.

He was exhausted, eyes barely able to stay open.

“Go to sleep.” She murmured, kissing him once on the cheek before settling in next to him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and then they both promptly fell asleep.

**********

Josie woke up, blinking several times before she realized she wasn’t in her own apartment. It was still dark, and her body felt tired, but that didn’t stop her from easing her way out of bed. She moved slowly, inch by inch out of bed, until she felt her feet touch the carpet. She slid out of bed, crouching on the floor and feeling around for her bra, slipping it on and then her crunchy shirt, which reeked of champagne.

“Ew.” She whispered holding her breath as she pulled it over her head and turned to look for her underwear. She heard Vince cough and turn in his sleep and she froze, until it was silent again.

“Where the fuck are they?” She hissed to herself, crawling across the floor, hand sweeping out until she felt the lace brush her fingers. She slowly pulled them on, then her pants and crawled across the floor on her hands and knees, grabbing her shoes and crawling out the door. She straightened up, catching her balance and tiptoed through the apartment, hoping to god he didn’t have a roommate that she would run across. The apartment was huge, and she almost got lost as she tried to remember how to get out. She hadn’t really been paying attention on the way in, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she finally found the door and eased it open, before pulling it shut behind her. She kept her head down as she made her way to the elevator, and last a few straggling people in the lobby part of the apartment building, hoping her walk of shame wasn’t evident, and into an Uber. Her phone said it was 5:15 as she leaned her head back, eyes closing. The woman behind the steering wheel glanced at her but didn’t say anything except to have a good day when she pulled up to Josie’s apartment.

She trudged up the steps, dropping her shoes and keys by the door, and shedding her clothing as she made her way to her bedroom. She landed on her bed like a zombie, and fell fast asleep.

**********

“You whore!” Jennifer said throwing herself down and pointing at Josie “Tell me EVERYTHING.” She slapped her hand on the table getting the attention of the rest of the group.

She frowned and glanced at the others “Everything about what?”

“About this.” She held up her phone and Josie’s mouth fell open. There, on a public news website was a picture of her and Vince, kissing, over top of the title “Blues celebrate Stanley Cup win.”

“So can you explain what your doing in this photo?”

The others leaned around all letting out a gasp and an excited squeal.

“What does it look like I’m doing

“Wait a second. You went home with Vince Dunn?” Allison said open mouthed.

Josie frowned “Yeah? Do you know him?”

“Yeah but the question is why don’t you know him?”

“Should I?”

“His team just won the Stanley cup so probably.”

“Wait hang on pause.” Josie waved her hand “You mean HE won the Stanley cup.”

“Yeah he plays for the Blues. Is today your first day on earth?”

“I don’t watch hockey how was I supposed to know who he is.”

Jennifer picked up her phone out and typed something on the screen and then turned her phone so Josie could see it. There he was. Vince Dunn, defenseman for the St. Louis blues.

Josie was a little surprised. She’d talked with him for a while and he hadn’t once mentioned he played hockey. To her, he was just a guy in a bar who happened to be there at the same time she was. He hadn’t used “I’m a Stanley cup champion“ as a line not one time.

Then again though she supposed he didn’t need to use any lines when he was walking around looking like that.

“Did you get his number?”

“For what?”

“To see him again idiot.”

“It was a one time thing. I’ll probably never even see him again.”

“Ugh!” Allison said waving her hand “Your the worst. You go home with an NHL player and you don’t even get his number.”

Josie shrugged and pulled her phone up, zoning out from the rest of the conversation.

An NHL player.

It was almost too unbelievable to be true, but it had to be because there was a picture of them kissing that was now making the social media rounds, and it was clearly him in the google photos she’d just seen. It was only fitting that on the rare occasion she decided to go home with someone, it would be a professional athlete of all things. And one who had just won what appeared to be a pretty prestigious trophy from what she understood.

She wanted nothing more than to leave her lunch early and google Vince until her thumbs hurt, but she’d promised her girlfriends lunch, so she would just have to wait till later. She stuffed her phone in her bag, and turned back to the conversation with her friends, putting Vince in the back of her mind.

************

“Have you seen this?” Brayden’s voice jarred Vince from his daydream as he shoved his phone in his face. It was pictures of Vince mid make out with Josie his mystery girl from last night.

“That’s gonna be fun to explain to your mom.” Sammy giggled from his left. Vince blushed and rolled his eyes.

“Fuck off. You can’t even tell that’s me.”

“Bro it made the news of course people know it’s you.”

Vince closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He was so hungover he was still drunk. He woke up with a splitting headache, alcohol oozing out of his pores and found his bed empty, much to his dismay. He thought for a second he had dreamed her but now he’d seen newsworthy photos of himself with his tongue down her throat so he knew she was real.

“Dunner. Are you planning on joining us during this parade or-?”

Vince rolled his eyes and took the beer that was being held out to him.

“He’s here but his head and the rest of him is still in bed with that chick. What was her name Jennifer? Jessica?” Schwartzy said eyebrows furrowing in thought.

“Josie. Her name was Josie. And I’m not thinking about her. I’m just hungover.” He mumbled.

He was lying. He was thinking about Josie. Though he wasn’t really a “friends with benefits” kind of guy he might change that for her. He usually hooked up with a girl and then maybe if it was alright hooked up with her again but usually not more than twice. He’d made the mistake a few times of keeping girls around too long and they always caught feelings. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt someone’s feelings because he was only interested in sex, and they were interested in more than that. Last night had been great enough to sober him up, and apart from the good sex he actually really enjoyed talking to her. She was smart and funny and she had absolutely no clue who he was.

He wanted to kick himself in his own ass for not getting her number and letting her slip out without even getting her last name. He was delighted and a little surprised to find a long list of Josie’s in a 50 mile radius but immediately deflated when he found that none of them were his Josie.

The parade was large and loud, and his excitement overrode his disappointment about Josie. There would be plenty of time to find her later.

Right now he had a cup to celebrate.

He would find her later.

**********

Josie made her way out of Target bags in hand, and unlocked her car. She had planned to go home, immerse herself in a boiling hot bubble bath, and have a long sleep after her night of no sleep the day prior. She sighed, mind floating back to Vince. She’d made the choice to not google him, because really what was the point? She’d protons er see him again and there was no good reason to learn more about a guy who she wasn’t planning on having any type of relationship with. What she had done the night before she never did. Like never ever. It had been kind of exciting to break the rules though if she was being honest. But that was over now and she was back to being boring old Josie, who never went home with random guys.

“So you are real?”

Josie jumped, and then turned at that all too familiar voice and found Vince making his way towards her. She smiled and closed her car door and small jolt of excitement surging through her. What kind of a coincidence was it that he was here right now. She silently thanked the father, the son, the Holy Ghost, and every other diety that came to mind as he came to a stop in front of her.

“Last time I checked. You can pinch me if you want.” She extended an arm. He smiled but looked like he wanted to do a whole lot more than pinch her.

“I thought maybe I’d dreamt last night because there was no way you just fucked my brains out like that and then bounced.”

Josie’s mouth fell open for a split second and blood rushed to her face. Vince’s smile widened and he braced an hand on the top of her car, and leaned his head forward a little. He knew exactly what he was doing to her right then. She let her eyes move over his face. She’d really missed out on some of the finer details the night before.

While he was gorgeous in the glow of the neon club lights, and possibly even more gorgeous over top of her, illuminated by only the lights of downtown St. Louis, he was even better looking in the daylight. She realized she was openly staring at him and closed her mouth, clearing her throat.

“Yeah Uhm, sorry about that. I’m not good at the whole ‘morning after’ thing I guess. Just kind of figured I’d never see you again.” She laughed nervously and glanced up at him “But I guess that was unrealistic considering that you won the Stanley cup.” She smiled mischievously.

His smile faltered a little and he chuckled “Ah. Who told you?”

“My friends. They saw the pictures and had a hissy fit that I didn’t tell them I went home with a Stanley cup champion, and that I didn’t even get his number.”

“Well I guess to make your friends feel better we’re going to have to change that.”

Sometimes he was too smooth for his own good. He could feel heat radiating off of her, and everything about her body language screamed nervous, but in a good way. She kept fiddling with her hair and blushing, and he was sure he was heading in the right direction.

“Is that so?”

“It is.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her, watching as she typed in her number and handed it back to him.

“Here. For the sake of my friends I’ll give you my number.”

“So I’ll call you.” He said pushing off the car and taking a step back.

She smiled “Sure.”

He smiled and turned on his heel, and she got into her car. She had just put the key in the ignition when her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” She looked up to find Vince leaned against his car, phone to his ear, and he gave her a wave.

“Hi Vince.” She let out a small giggle and smiled at him through her windshield, which he returned.

“What are you doing now?”

Josie smiled “Whatever your doing.”

#vince dunn #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #hockey tumblr #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockeyblr #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl smut #nhl fluff #nhl x reader #nhl blurb #hockey writing #hockey tag #hockey smut #hockey blurb #hockey fandom #hockey #nhl hockey #st. louis blues

[marvelobsessed134]

How about an NSFW one where Paul Stanley gets pranked by a rocker dudette fan (I'm talking leather jacket, jeans, wristbands, band t shirt underneath, the whole nine yards) but then it turns into a little something spicy *Wink Wink*🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Prank call gone wrong

Pairings: Paul Stanley x Fem!reader

Warnings: smut, rough sex, degradation, dumbifacation, size kink, and I think that’s it.

A/n: this might be my longest one yet

Summary: your prank on Paul Stanley goes amazingly wrong.

You’ve found the number to Paul’s hotel room. You’re still stoked that you’re staying in the same hotel as him! You had a couple hours to spare before the Kiss concert and you wondered if he was still in his room or if he was at the stadium. Either way, you wanted to prank call him.

Having thought of a script before hand, you excitedly dialed the number. How you got the number? You overheard a groupie telling it to her friend. And you have a pretty good memory.

It rang for a few seconds before he answered, “Hello?” His voice sent chills down your spine. God you love his voice. “Oh my god, Robert is that you? You’re with another girl aren’t you?” You responded trying your best to sound like an angry girlfriend.

“Umm my names not Robert I think you have the wrong-“

“Okay, so you’re just gonna pretend it’s not you. I’m not stupid, Robert. You’re with Brenda aren’t you? That skank.”

“I-“

“We were supposed to get married, Robert. How could you? I hate you so much pack all of your shit and get out of my house.” You fake cried before slamming the phone down. You laughed maniacally before deciding to go down to the hotel restaurant to get a bite to eat before the concert.

—

Paul was confused. So he asked Gene about it. “You’ve been prank called.” The bassist replied simply.

“‘Prank called’ what does that mean?” The singer asked.

“You can’t be that stupid. Put the two words together. Prank and call.”

Paul then realized what Gene was talking about. “So some chick just prank called me that’s great. Who was it? Because she woke me up from my sleep.” He grumbled. The other man shrugged his shoulders.

-at the concert-

You standing amongst the rest of the screaming fans as Kiss made their grand entrance onto the stage. As usual it was epic. Pyrotechnics, lights, dancers. And of course, the music. You were right up against the barricade. “Wooo! Hell yes!” You yelled as you did the rock n roll sign with your hands.

For some reason during the show, Paul kept looking at you. Which made you flustered. Who wouldn’t be? The show went on and after it ended, you waited to be one of the last to leave so you wouldn’t have to deal with the crowd.

You walked, the stadium was pretty much empty, you were alone. You felt someone grab your shoulder. You turned to see non other than the Starchild himself.

“Holy shit Paul Stanley!” You shouted but not too loud. “Shut up, people will hear. Now come with me.” He hissed before gripping your arm tightly and dragging you to his dressing room.

He slammed the door shut and pushed you against it. His grip firm on both of your arms as he looked down at you. “So, you’re the one who prank called me?” He asked.

“How’d you find out?” You asked in response.

“I have my ways. I just want you to know that you disturbed my sleep and you should know I need every hour of it.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay? So you dragged me all the way here just so you could complain that my little call woke you up?”

“You better watch that mouth, missy.”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

“I’ll give you something better to do with it.” As he said this, Paul undid his belt before pulling down his pants and boxers. His large cock sprang free and your eyes widened. He used his other hand to pulled you down onto your knees.

“You gonna suck my cock like a good girl?” The singer asked as he stroked his large cock in front of you. You were shocked by the whole situation. How did it lead to this? Not like you’re complaining, though.

You moved to grab his thighs to stable yourself but was quickly stopped. “Ah, ah. Hands behind your back.” And so, you put your hands behind your back allowing him full control over you. Paul grabbed your hair and pushed his cock in your mouth. You closed your lips around his length before he began bobbing your head back and forth.

“Fuck, you have such a good mouth, baby. This is all you’re good for isn’t it? Such a dumb little thing that only knows how to suck dick.” The singers’ filthy words made you extremely wet. He continued to fuck your face before pulling you off his cock. “I see my cock barely fit in your mouth, didn’t it? You’re so fucking tiny it’s pathetic. I can rip you in two if I wanted.”

Paul grabbed your hair to pull you up, and he dragged you over to the couch and sat down pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. You could feel his hard cock through your leather pants. You started to grind on him as the two of you made out.

The singer began to kiss your neck down to your collarbone before throwing your leather jacket off your shoulders. A tank top with his face on it was underneath. He smirked, “Well, I see you must really like me huh?”

“I just like your voice.” You lied.

“Are you sure you don’t like my dick too?” He chuckled when your face went red. He pulled his shirt off before pulling yours off, groaning when he saw you wore nothing underneath. The raven haired man massaged your breasts, tweaked your nipples and bit and sucked on them. You were in complete bliss.

In one swift motion you were laid on your back. He was roughly taking your boots off and pulling your pants and panties down. You instinctively spread your legs.

“You think I’m gonna lick that pussy after what you’ve done? You’re just gonna lay there take my cock like a good slut.” He said before ramming into you without warning. You squealed in both pain and surprise. “Oh my god you’re so fucking tight. My cock can barely even fit this tiny pussy.” Paul moaned as he began to pump in and out of your tight wet hole.

You couldn’t think straight at all. You only laid there as Paul fucked you, used you. But oh you fucking loved it.

He pulled you up so you were straddling him again, his cock still inside you. The singer gripped your hips and slammed you up and down on his large cock.

“You like this baby? Bet you didn’t think about this when you called me today huh?” You couldn’t respond to him, and he was getting a kick out of it.

“Aww is my baby going all dumb on my cock? You had so much to say moments ago.”

You gripped his shoulders as he used you as a flesh light, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge. You finally clenched around him, “Ah!” You screamed in surprise.

“Fuck that was hot. Get on your knees again.” The singer commanded. You quickly got on your knees and grabbed his cock, putting it into your mouth sucking hard and fast, wanting his cum more than anything.

Paul put his hands behind his head as he leaned back with a cocky smile. “Yeah, you want my cum don’t you? Pathetic, really.” You jerked him off a couple times before his cum squirted all over your face.

Tears were in your eyes cause some of it got in them. Your mascara was smeared and so was your lipstick. Your hair disheveled and cum all over your face. “You look so fucking beautiful like this. Get cleaned up, I’ll give you my number for next time.”

#kiss band x reader #kiss band #kiss smut #paul stanley x reader #paul stanley #gene simmons #tommy thayer #eric carr #80s kiss #paul stanley smut #kiss band smut

[absolutelyhugh3s]

jersey giant | jh86

y’all i am so so sorry this took so long to get out!! i’ll try my best to start getting things out quicker and more often!!

but we’re back with the song blurbs!! i’ve recently been obsessed with jersey giant by elle king and for some reason it makes me think of the devils

pairing -> graves!sister!oc x jack hughes warnings -> mentions of blood, mentions of injury, slight cursing, mentions of death not my gif!!

word count -> 2.12k

7 months ago

since i was a little girl, I believed everything happens for a reason.

no matter how hard i search, there was no reason for this.

i remember that day like no other. i sat in the living room of my hoboken apartment, which i shared with my older brother, of course.

today my anxiety had been like no other. with ryan at hockey practice, i feared something happened to him. i texted him an upwards of 30 times, to be graced with a response of “dw cupcake i’m doing fine :)”

however, that did not calm my rambunctious mind. so i turned to my music. i’ve been writing music since i was in high school, not for the people, just for me. music was my escape, an outlet for me to express my emotions.

i don’t remember much from those few hours, the only thing i remember was my raw and bleeding fingertips after playing for so long.

it was about 3 o’clock when the front door opened. “i’m home cupcake!” ryan called, though it wasn’t his usual tone. it seemed gloomy and sad.

my brother seemed to drag himself into our shared living room, shoulders hunched, a solemn look on his face.

“how was practice?” i ask cheerfully, trying to lighten his mood. “i’m so sorry darcie” ryan croaks out, tears pooling in his eyes.

“for what ry? what’s the matter?” i ask, cupping his face and wiping the few tears that had fallen.

“they’re trading me.”

his words cut me like a freshly sharpened knife. he opens his mouth to speak once again and i brace for the impact.

“to pittsburgh”

the knife was twisted. for the past two years, i was blessed to call the garden state my home, and blessed to call the devils my family.

i was struggling with my schooling a lot a few years ago, trying to cope with the loss of my brother at home. so my parents thought it would be a good idea to send me to live with him.

so to new jersey he went, with me in toe.

i’ve made great friends while being here, johnny, dawson, nico, jesper, timo, they were all such great company.

but no one’s company could compare to that of the devils prodigy, jack hughes.

being very close in age, we became best friends immediately. we spent almost every day together except when he had morning skate or roadies.

jack was my person. at first i thought it was just platonically, but after a few months of our friendship, i developed feelings.

and after a hard loss, denying them a spot in the 2022 stanley cup playoffs, i discovered he reciprocated those same feelings.

so we started dating in secret. it wasn’t easy, but we made it work. and about 6 months in, we told our siblings. 

luke was accidentally first to know, after an awkward walk in that lacked clothes. quinn followed soon after, because jack felt guilty that the younger hughes knew but not the older hughes.

ryan was the last to know. it took a while for him to warm up to our relationship, but he eventually came around. plus, the boys became even closer than they already were. everything was perfect, until it wasn’t.

“so what does this mean” i ask, looking down at the dried blood on my fingers, my voice cracking as i try to conceal my true feelings.

“we have to leave jersey. and move to pittsburgh” he said, clearly just upset as i was. “trust me darcie i don’t want to leave” he sighs

“so don’t!” i exclaim jumping up from my place on the couch. ryan looks up at me with tears in his eyes. “darcie you know it’s not possible. if it was i wouldn’t be leaving”

“but ryan my whole life is here” i cry “my friends are here, my job is here, for fucks sake my boyfriend is here!” tears begin to stream down my face. “i cant just uproot my life because you got traded!” 

“darcie lynn graves you know we have no choice.” he says sternly. brushing his long hair out of his eyes. “better get packing” he says, looking around at the decor. “our flight leaves tomorrow night.” and with that, he walked through the apartment to his bedroom.

just as i’m about to pick up the phone and call jack, there’s a knock on the door. i look out the peephole to see non other than my boyfriend, with tear stained cheeks on the other side.

i immediately open the door to see jack still in his practice clothes. “nico was the first player to know. he told the rest of us and i came as soon as i could” his voice cracks.

i wrap my arms around his shoulders while his encircle my waist. “i don’t want you to leave me” he mumbles, placing his head in the crook of my neck. “i have no choice baby” i sigh “this is the absolute last thing i want to do”

“how long do i have?” he asks me, tears falling down his cheeks. “what?” i ask, caught off guard by the question. “until you have to leave. how long”

“my flight leaves tomorrow night” i brush the strands of his messy hair out of his face.

it looked as though that statement broke his heart. it’s scary, being young and in love, not knowing if this could possibly be the last time they ever meet face to face.

“then let’s make these next 24 hours, the best we possibly can” he says feigning confidence.

we did everything together for the next 24 hours, just as he had promised. we had the time of our lives. we went skating together, a late night 7/11 run, movies, the whole nines.

all knowing it could possibly be the last time.

then came the part i dreaded the most, leaving. ryan insisted on taking my ginormous suitcase, as jack and i walked through the airport hand in hand.

we stopped before we got to tsa. i bit my bottom lip, knowing this is what had to happen. knowing that i was leaving and he wasn’t coming with me.

jack turns to me with a sad smile on his face. “i’m gonna miss you so much baby” he says, trying to hold back tears as well.

“i’m gonna miss you too jacky” i said, my tears finally falling. he wipes them away, the sad smile remaining on his face. “i love you to the moon and saturn” he says cupping my face in his hands.

“i love you forever and always” i smile “no matter how far away i am” jack dips his head down placing a passionate and loving kiss on my lips. “dars let’s go!” ryan calls out.

“promise me you’ll call me if you need anything ok?” a big goofy smile appears on the brunette boys face. “only if you promise me the same” we laugh and share our last goodbyes as ryan and i headed towards tsa.

present time

i left jersey almost seven months ago now, but i miss jack like crazy. being without him has been really tough for me, and everyone can tell. however, i was able to spend a few weeks with him over the summer at his lake house. i met trevor, alex, cole, and ellen and jim officially, and i loved every second of it

believe it or not i’ve made some great friends in pittsburgh. if you told twelve year old me that i was friends with sidney crosby she would laugh at you and tell you you’re crazy.

“whatcha doing kid?” sid asks as he sits next to me on the couch. ryan had invited the guys and their partners to our house for a team get together. he says it’s to “celebrate the start of the new season” but i think it’s to get on their good sides.

i point to the large flat screen tv currently playing the devils game against the st. louis blues. “ohh i see” sidney chuckles “ditching the boys to watch the boyfriend”

i laugh “don’t get too pissy sid” “no no i see where i lie on your rankings of favorites” he jokes, taking a sip of his beer.

“jack hughes goes down and he’s hurt!” the broadcaster says. sid and i freeze.

“no no no”

“cmon kid get up”

“god jack get up!”

“cmon kid cmon!”

we begin to panic, yelling everything we can at the tv, as though it could be heard all the way in st. louis.

i try to hold back my tears, as i pick up my phone. as my shaky hands attempted to open my phone, jacks contact photo appears.

i look to the tv to see he’s already in the locker room. “hello?” i ask, voice shaky and palms sweaty. “hello is this darcie graves?” the man asks, clearly not jack.

“yes how can i help you?” i ask “im michael coyne, the head physical therapist for the new jersey devils. now, i’m not sure if your aware but jack sustained a significant injury to his shoulder tonight, and he keeps asking for you. and if possible we would fly you into jersey and we can meet you there. now he has informed us of your current situation, we will cover all fees needed, we just want to make sure he is ok.”

“absolutely, um- i- yeah i’ll- i’ll go” i stutter. “perfect. the flight leaves in an hour, is that alright?” he asks. “yeah that’s perfect” i sadly smile. 

“any questions?” he asks sincerely. “yes there is. can i talk to jack?” micheal almost cuts me off, “absolutely here he is now” 

“hello?” i hear my boyfriend hiss in pain. “hi jacky. i’m coming ok? they’re flying you home and i’ll meet you there. it takes to hours to get there babe, but i’ll make it to the airport in about an hour or so” i ramble.

“ok.” he hisses again “i never expected you to come back” he says. i can tell he’s frustrated by the situation, he hates being away from hockey.

“i’ll come back if you just call” i say sweetly “now i have to get packing and head down to the airport. i’ll call you as soon as i can alright?” i begin to throw my clothes into my suitcase.

“ok i love you”

“i love you more jack, i’ll be there soon.”

3.5 hours later

i landed in newark just before jack and the trainers did. although it was around 10 pm the city was still alive. so to take my mind off of the stress, i walked to the prudential center. once i arrived the trainers were already there and assessing jack.

as soon as i walked through the doors i was met by devils personnel, who ushered me into the training room. 

it was there that i saw jack sitting near a pt table with ice wrapped around his shoulder.

“you gave me the worst scare of my life” i said making my presence known to the older boy. “oh thank god your here” jack goes to get up “god fucking damn it” he hisses, sitting back in the chair.

i run to his side “can i get you anything? water, ice, a heating pad? i can order chipotle if you want? have you eaten? oh god your probably starving” i ramble.

“hey, i’m alright darcie. i’m not going anywhere” he says cupping my jaw with his healthy hand. “but what if you weren’t? something serious could have happened, you could’ve gotten a concussion, snapped your neck, jack rowden you could’ve died!”

he doesn’t respond, only chuckling under his breath at my rambling. “stop looking at me like that! it’s not funny! this is serious!” i giggle, trying my best to stay mad at him. i failed miserably.

“come sit” jack says, patting the seat next to him. as i sit down he places his good arm around my shoulders, carefully pulling me into his chest. “thank you for being here. it means a lot to me” jack says, placing a kiss on my temple.

“i’ll always be here for you baby” i smile up at him. he leans down and places a slow and sweet kiss on my lips. 

i plan to stay in newark for the next few weeks, since luke and jack have an extra room in their house. “are you gonna play doctor?” jack asks as i help him into the car. “i guess so yeah” i giggle.

“can you wear one of those sexy nurse costumes?”

“jack rowden hughes!”

#jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #new jersey devils

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

I'm Not Going Anywhere

I'm aware that I still have prompts to fill (but my muse is dragging her heels in finding inspiration for them) but in the meantime, this little idea wouldn't go away. A little bit of angsty fluff. Follows the fire incident.

***

You feel rather than see Melissa hover in the doorway of your classroom.  Looking up, you see the guilt-stricken expression on her face. 

“Go to her,” you say, knowing she’s about to say something about the two of you having plans that evening.  “I’ll cancel the reservations and we can book for another time.”

Still, she hovers. 

Getting up from your desk you cross over to her, taking her hands in your own.  “I’m not mad.  There are bigger things going on right now than dinner plans.  Go to her, I’m not going anywhere.”

She says nothing, but looks at you for a long few moments before leaning in to press a chaste but meaningful kiss to your lips.  “Thank you.”

“Let me know if you need anything?” you ask.

She nods, stepping back and heading along the hallway towards Barbara’s classroom.

*

You’re at home when she calls.

“Hey!  How are you?  How’s Barb?”  You had left them at school to talk, giving Barbara the privacy and support of her best friend.  You had messaged Melissa before leaving, letting her know where you’d be if she needed you, but not wanting to hover. 

“Honestly?  I don’t know.”  There was a sigh on Melissa’s end.  “I just don’t know how I could have missed this?  How I didn’t see it?  Why she didn’t tell me?”

Holding the phone to your ear, you find yourself pacing as she talks, her agitation palpable.  Passing the window of your apartment, you frown.  Stepping closer to the glass, you see Melissa’s car parked on the sidewalk.  Still listening as she speaks, you move to the door of your apartment, slipping on your shoes before venturing outside.  As Melissa trails of into a frustrated silence, you tap her window, making her jump.

“You coming in any time soon?”

Melissa hangs up the phone before opening her car door.  “I wasn’t sure if I was,” she admits.  “I’m not good company right now.  I don’t wanna put that on you.”

You pocket your phone, reaching out your hands in invitation.  “You’re not putting anything on anybody.  Come on, come in and you can just be for a bit.  You can put music on and think until you want to talk, watch shitty TV or I could run you a bath and you can just soak for a bit?”

She’s still hesitant, but she ended up outside your apartment for a reason.  You never fail to improve her mood, no matter what she’s feeling. 

“You don’t need to be good company.  You just need to be,” you tell her.  “And since you’re here, you may as well just be here.  I’ll only worry if you go home.”

*

Once inside your apartment, you find her some comfortable jeans she had managed to leave behind and one of your soft, worn hoodies to change into.

“Can we order pizza?  The good pizza?  And just drink beer?” she asks sheepishly, emerging from the bedroom. 

You smile softly.  “I told you, we can do whatever you want?  I’ll even watch that Stanley Tucci Italy show if you want.”

You don’t end up watching TV.  Instead, you let her vent between bites of pizza and mouthfuls of beer. 

“I mean, I’m out there living all my firefighter dreams and she’s there, struggling and I just didn’t realise.  I don’t know if I was just distracted or I was just being a shitty friend?”

You try to reason with her, turn her away from the latter train of thought.

“She practically carried me through my divorce, put up with all my shit, put me back together and I can’t even see when she’s drowning?  She was in real trouble and I missed it.”

You both jump at the ringing of her phone.  Seeing Barb’s name flash up on the screen, Melissa jumps to answer it. 

“Of course I can come over.  I’ll be right there, I just need to call a cab-“

You wave your hand in front of her face.  “I haven’t had a drink.  I’ll drive you.”  You see her frown, hesitating

“Actually, I’ll be right over.  Y/N is gonna give me a ride.”  She pauses, listening to Barb on the other end of the phone.  “I love you too, Barb.  I’ll be there soon.”  Hanging up, she looks at you where you’ve already started to clear the pizza boxes from the table. 

Turning to face her, you lift the half empty bottle of beer she had been drinking.  “You want me to toss this or you want to finish it on the drive over?”  You wait for an answer, but none seem to be forthcoming.  Instead, she looks positively guilty.  “What’s wrong?”

“I already cancelled our plans for tonight and now I’ve even ruined this.”

You put the beer bottle back down on the table and move to stand in front of her, cupping her face in your hands.  “You haven’t ruined anything.  What you and Barb have will never ruin or interrupt any plans we have.  She needs you, you go, no arguments.” 

She covers your hands where they still rest on her cheeks, her expression unreadable.  Joe would always tell her she’d have to make it up to him if she cancelled plans to be there for Barb.  Taunt her she did more for the kindergarten teacher than she did as his wife. 

“You want to get changed before we head?” you ask when she hesitates.  “I’m sure there’s a few of your shirts here.”

“Can I keep the hoody?” she asks in a small voice, nuzzling into the soft fabric. 

You smile at how cute she looks in the oversized sweater.  “Course you can.”  You drop a kiss to her forehead.  “I’ll just go grab my keys.”

*

She’s quiet during the drive over, you notice, not even cussing out the driver who cuts you off.  You can’t help but can’t help but smile, however, as her hand finds yours on the gear shift.  Pulling up outside Barb’s house, you turn your hand, lacing your fingers together.  “You’ll let me know what you need?  I can drop off your things if you’re staying or pick you up?  It doesn’t matter what time and I don’t care if it’s to bring you back to mine or just to take you home.  I just want to know you’re safe.”

She turns to look at you, a slight frown furrowing her brows.  There’s no judgment from you.  No lamenting about her putting Barb first.  You’re just there, doing what you can to help, expecting your plans to be cancelled so she can be there for her best friend.  “But-“

“But nothing,” you tell her firmly.  “I don’t care if it’s 4am.  Call me and I’ll be here.”

It takes you by surprise when she lunges forward, pulling you into a rough kiss before leaning her forehead against yours.  “You okay?”

She nods and you feel the action.

“Good.  Now remember, call me.  And tell Barb and Gerald if they need anything, I’m only ever a phone call away for them too.”

One final, bruising kiss and she’s out of the car and headed for Barb’s front door. 

*

You half expect her not to call, but she does, just after 1am.  Having been dozing on the couch, you sleepily answer, immediately telling her not to apologise as she registers your sleep laden voice.  Picking up your keys, you’re out the door before she’s even hung up. 

Sitting outside Barb’s house, you message rather can call her to tell her you’re there, adding that there’s no rush.  You’re there, you’re not going anywhere, even if her goodnights and goodbyes take an hour.

Eventually, you see Melissa and Barb come to the door, giving each other a hug and the red head saying something that has the older woman looking solemn, but nodding.  You watch as Melissa turns to make her way towards your car, slipping into the passenger seat and giving the other woman a final wave, as do you, before she closes the door.

You watch as the woman next to you visibly deflates, clearly exhausted.  You can clearly imagine her putting on a brave face and being everything Barb needed her to be that night, tired and beat beneath it all.  “My place or yours?”

She turns to look at you, head leaning on the head rest of the passenger seat.  There are still no complaints from you, even after it took her almost twenty minutes to make it out of Barb’s house after you had messaged.  There’s no irritation in your voice and she knows, even if she finds it hard to believe, that you don’t mind what she answers.  Whatever she chooses, you’ll be there.  You keep reminding her you’re not going anywhere. 

Just as she did when you dropped her off, she leans across to press a kiss to your lips.  It’s a softer kiss this time, one hand gently cupping your cheek.  “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile.  “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Another kiss is pressed to your lips.  “Yours,” she says softly.  “I want to be with you.”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

[tiredcatboysinc]

Warm shirt for a cold protagonist

I've had this fic idea in my notes since my last hyperfixation on TSP, so a hot fucking minute...

Summary: It was so warm in here, it felt like heaven to Stanley's already cold skin. Stanley was sure The Narrator wouldn't mind him lying down in here... Right? And Stanley was sure Narrator wouldn't mind if he borrowed a shirt to be more comfortable, right?

ao3

Words: 824

Warnings/A/N's: Nothing but fluff, He/Him used for Stanley, They/Them used for Narrator, Not beta read

Stanley was almost constantly cold, his fingers feeling like ice when touched. It was honestly a really big problem, but Narrator still hadn't figured out why he was so cold... Near was nothing in the code that would suggest any bugs, so The Narrator just brushed it off at this point. Stanley, however, was less then enthusiastic about basically being a human lizard. He constantly needed to be in some sort of heating light or outside in the sun, that was mainly the reason he would do the Freedom ending so much, and it bugged the shit out of him. 

Currently, The Narrator had allowed Stanley to take a much-needed break from the story, letting the protagonist enter their office to rest. The Narrator thought it would be 'rather cruel' to let Stanley freeze in the office, seeing as that blasted air conditioning was CONSTANTLY running. Stanley was extremely grateful for this as he lay on their couch, a heating blanket wrapped tightly around him as he dozed in and out. 

At some point The Narrator had left their chair, leaving to inspect some code or some shit. Stanley had woke up a few minutes after their departure, haziness and grogginess only feeling the confusion that seeped into his head. He sat on the couch for a moment, rubbing his eyes and clearing them of sleep. Once he raised, begrudgingly, from his very comfortable position he looked around. Stanley poked around everything he could in the decent-sized office, opening drawers and looking at different unfinished scripts. 

Soon, though, he drew bored of giggling at The Narrator's shitty scripts. His eyes gaze around the room, falling upon a door he hadn't noticed. Curiosity drew him in, and he turned the knob. The room led to The Narrator's bedroom, neatly organized with a well-made, not to mention comfortable, looking bed in the middle. Stanley blinked a few times, his mouth slightly ajar as he stepped in. 

It was so warm in here, it felt like heaven to Stanley's already cold skin. Stanley was sure The Narrator wouldn't mind him lying down in here... Right? And Stanley was sure Narrator wouldn't mind if he borrowed a shirt to be more comfortable, right? A mischievous grin was plastered on Stanley's face, digging through the large dresser to look for a comfortable shirt. He pulls one out, one of the few t-shirts in the drawer. It was a black t-shirt with a band logo on it, one that Stanley recognized as the band 'She Wants Revenge'. 

This piqued Stanley's interest, he had never thought The Narrator would like this type of music. He always assumed they would like some classical bullshit, or maybe even just elevator music with how they hummed along with it. Nevertheless, Stanley pulled off his work shirt and slipped this one on. He was correct in his assumption it was comfortable, though the shirt was clearly loved greatly with how the print was slightly faded. 

Stanley slips his shoes off before slipping under the duvet, nestling his head into the pillows as he dozed off. 

The Narrator had in fact been digging through the code, trying to figure out what made Stanley freeze his balls off constantly. "Oh bugger..." They grumble aggravatedly as the whole thing ends up a failure. They sigh, pushing their glasses up with his palms as they rub their eyes. "Oh, fuck it, whatever. Stanley's probably fine anyway, It doesn't matter." They mutter, leaving the coding to something they'd fiddle with another day. 

When The Narrator returns, they don't find Stanley on the couch. A small surge of panic rushes through them, eyes blown wide as they stare at the couch. Where had Stanley gone? The door wasn't open, had he just... Dematerialized?? No, no that was a silly notion. Their protagonist could dematerialize... At least they hoped he couldn't. 

They enter the office, glancing around swiftly, and panic fading immediately. The bedroom door is open, Stanley must have woken up and got curious. Narrator would have been upset, mad even, but they were more than happy to not have their protagonist lost. Narrator peaks their head into the bedroom, a soft blush creeping onto their cheeks upon seeing Stanley. 

He was sprawled out on his back, the duvet kicked off, and only on one leg partly. The t-shirt he wore was what caught Narrator eyes, that was their t-shirt. The heat builds on their face, but a smile soon follows. Stanley looked cute, which of course they'd never tell him that... 

They carefully crept next to the bed, and pushed a few strands of Stanley's hair out of his face. Their smile only grows when Stanley presses to their hand to his face, still sleeping soundly but now with a small smile. 

"I suppose you can rest a little longer, my flower." The Narrator whispers as they brush their lips to Stanleys’ forehead, a soft kiss pressed into his skin.

#eddie writes #tsp fanfic #tsp stanley #tsp narrator #the stanley parable #The Narrator x Stanley #Stanley x The Narrator #Fluff #I might make a part two for this #Either suggestive/flat out smut or fluff where they just cuddle #You all have the decision on this #I am putting it in your hands teehee

[biribaa]

(implied yandere)Fem!AI x reader

Scenario: You were just a worker at a game company, just someone checking if that music matched that a area, how did that happen to you? How did that happen... To your friend?

Hear me out istg im doing yall requests, just have been really tired, stressed, and maybe even sad this whole week

And theres this oc i did recently, and my friends cant stop doing jokes about how she have a tumblr Sexywoman personality mainly because she was inspired by the Narrator of Stanley Parable and AM from I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream, and both are tumblr sexymans, so i though yall would like her:)

TW// Manipulation, choking, mentions of torture

I swear the quality is good Tumblr just hates artist click the image for good quality

"And I'm amazed how Exile is such a difficult game for such an old computer!" Olivia commented with food in her mouth "It's actually not difficult because it's well done and with good strategy, but because it's confusing. You can easily die for various things and you don't know exactly your objective." She explained with such animation, if you didn't interrupt her, she could easily spend the entire break time talking about micro computer games you've never heard of.

You work at a game company not even famous and that started a few months ago, you were not such an important piece in this chess, you just listened to music in game scenes and say if it matches or not. While your friend Olivia, a 23 year old woman, was helping testers of a new game that some members of the company say they are making, and according to them, the game takes place in "real life"... You're not really sure how it works, but whatever, you make good money here and that's what mattered

You chuckled, picking up your bottle of your favorite juice "I wonder how you know these things" You said, then took a sip from your bottle

"Ah it's a talent of mine Y/N, you would never understand" The orange haired girl smiled with pride swallowing the last bite of her sandwich she was chewing

"And by the way, my work is finally starting next week Y/N! They finally found a tester for me to guide!" Olivia exclaimed, she always talked about how excited she was for her to guide a tester, guiding someone through puzzles with only her voice seemed exhilarating to her somehow. But well, she was happy, so it made you crack a smile

"Nice, hope you have fun"

———

She had, she sure did

Oh? What happened to Olivia?

Oh, my pal, if y'all thought she was excited for her job, you're miserably wrong. She was excited to manipulate the tester, make his human head believe that the puzzles he was following would not lead to Olivia's consciousness inside a machine, and she managed to do it all by simply acting that she was "nice", that she was "kind" and "humble"

She manipulated everyone, just for her wish, her darkest wish. Transform herself into an artificial intelligence, to torture humans, humans who didn't accept her for not being in the "pattern", for being "different"

"Oh! Glad you came, me and the new tester were just talking about you guys!" The voice of the face on the giant screen coos around the dark place. Minutes ago, only the tester was there, now half of the company's workers were there, shocked by the event, everyone knew Olivia, mainly because of her "original" mind. How did she turn into this?! A Psychotic Machine! Has she always been like this? Was this her true self?

"We were talking about how selfish you humans are, for none of you knew me because of my art, my wisdom, but you all just focused on how "different" I was, right?" She asked intimidatingly, with no answer, just murmurs around the room. But unexpectedly, a voice shouted immediately, catching the attention of the entire audience

"OLIVIA WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?! ARE YOU SICK?!" A man's voice emerged. Olivia recognized this man, it was Cyrus, one of the bosses of the project of the "irl" game, which also pushed everyone in front of him to stand in front of everyone to face the giant screen that represented Olivia's face

"...Sick?" Olivia laughed sinisterly and faced Cyrus with a smug face "Sure! I am sick then! Because when I was 10-12 years old I was forced to be in a class full of people with fifth grade humor and every time they fucked up everything I was forced to pay the price along with copying a 20-line text! Because when I was 15 and I told my mom I had Autism, Insomnia and maybe even Anxiety the only thing she said was that I am "too young" for that! Because every time I'm nice to someone and I share food with someone hoping they'll become my friend, that person never talks to me again! Sure Cyrus! You're soooooo right, i'm just dramatic then" The hate in Olivia's tone was so noticeable, it felt like she was salivating to vent it, to finally use it against someone, to finally be in charge of the argument.

A black wire lightly peeked up to Cyrus, which climbed up to the man's neck. Cyrus panicked, but before he could pull the wire out, the wire tightened on the man's skin, leaving him breathless and in panic. Olivia lifted Cyrus' body into the air, showing off his flailing body to everyone like it was some sort of circus attraction.

"Since holding all this hate and anguish inside my old disgusting chest of flesh and skin was drama, I believe this feeling of pain would also be drama." She stretched out a big multi-toothed smile on the giant screen

Everyone was jaw-dropping and with pale skin, screams from everywhere and the air of the place screamed panic, several tried to open the door to get out of there, but it was locked

After Cyrus passed out, Olivia dropped the unconscious corpse on the floor like it was nothing, the tester along with some of Cyrus' close friends rushed to check if the man was alive. Olivia let out a small laugh seeing everyone's panic

"He's just passed out from lack of air, I had pity on him, after all, you're all going to be tortured here, I will close this company and I will hide any evidence of life here so that after 48 hours, everyone considers you dead. Everyone's life here will be hopeless, only pain, and I'll watch with a smile while you all wonder in despair "why me? Why was I condemned to this? Why why!" Hehehe... I hope you kissed your wives and husbands today, because today is going to be your last day of happiness, humans." The giant screen cackled in pure evilness, everyone looked at her with tears in their eyes while many looked at her with hate and fury "You know... I would even show you an example of how you could have acted with me, but my angel is sleeping... Hmm... I think it's worth teaching you how to act properly, humans. Wait here..."

For a moment, silence, the screen went black, it didn't turn off, it kept emitting light, but for now, no face. Olivia's green face came back, but along with her, someone unconscious, this person was being carried by lots and lots of wires, they were sleeping, well, you were sleeping

"Y/N, Y/N... See this blessing? This perfection left my sanity intact for several moments, it was enough for me to worship this person, and allow me to leave this person alive during this torture. Unlike all of you, this Casanova deserves more than pity. This person deserves to eat the most expensive and most charming bouquet, the most comfortable bed in the world, the world, the moon, the entire universe! This person deserves far more than anything they gets" Olivia's on-screen smile was so big that if it were her real face, the smile would be a ear-to-ear smile, telling that to this whole audience, having the presence of you, how much she admires you, was so euphoric, it was so satisfying, it was breathtaking. "This person was patient with me, always listened to me, always helped me, this is the only human in whom I have genuinely felt comfort and security, they... Heh, they gave me a little spark of hope in humanity, heh, that little annoying spark–" "THAT'S Y/N!" A female voice shouted in rage "RELEASE THEM NOW! YOU CRAZY PSYCHOPATH–" The continuation of the woman's speech only continued with coughs and a wire against her neck that was brutally choking the woman.

"UNGRATEFUL HUMAN! Don't wake up Y/N!" Olivia gritted her teeth as your unconscious body was carried away from the place by the psychotic AI's wires. "I could be ripping the legs off every single one of you who don't exercise and watch your screams of pain like a theatrical musical!" The AI yelled giving even the impression that all the walls shook with the scream "I'm showing you too much mercy... Let's get this started"

———

Your consciousness slowly returned, you came back from a heavy sleep and your body felt like a stone. You lifted your back and used your hand for support against the fabric of your bed... Why doesn't it look like your bed? It was cold and–

"G–Gosh! Are you waking up now? Did it have to be now?" A familiar voice whispered gently at you, the voice was familiar and brought comfort to your mind, making your despair subside.

"Come here, dear... " You were taken out of the uncomfortable place, now, it feels like you were being carried by someone, you wonder what happened before you fell asleep, you don't remember a thing...

But your mind kept insisting that all is well, you were being carried by someone strong and kind, right? Probably a friend, there's no reason to open your eyes, right? Then relax...

"I was expecting you would freak out like the others. You know how human psychology works, I've talked to you about it hundred times." The comfortable voice commented "Didn't I, Y/N?"

You made an effort to open your eyes, just to get a sense of the place around you, after all, the greatest fear of the human being was the unknown according to Olivia. You grabbed the unknown identity's shoulder with one of your hands for you lift your back from their arms

"Oh, no no no no no no, love, relax relax..." An alternate hand gently caressed your head, while another hand made you let go of the person's shoulder, but wait, she was carrying you, but how she caressed you and still carrying you? Does this person have more than two arms? "It's alright, you're safe, you're safe with me, I'll always keep you safe..." The person purrs gently, you felt your torso heat up feeling the feeling of being protected by someone, feeling important... Their— No, it's possible her. Her voice didn't sound entirely realistic, it sounded inhuman, it sounded like a technological voice, a computer voice

Your eyes were too tired to see anything, it was all too grounded, the head of the woman who was carrying you was just a black and green blur

"Here,—" You were gently released to a completely comfortable and stunning manufacturing place, the fabric looked amazing, it felt like you were taking a shower of sunshine after 2 weeks of pure cold. You easily accepted the bed you were placed, and relaxed on the fabric "—get what you deserve, my love. You deserve much more than this, did you know that? You are very special..." The supposed machine muttered the sweet words to you, your euphoria hit, and you faintly smiled. Then you were embraced by the sweet warmth of a blanket being placed over you.

"Sleep well, darling"

"...Olivia...?" You finally managed to mumble

"Olivia? Tsk tsk, I wouldn't mind you calling me that, but that's not my name anymore, Y/N. It's just O7 now, sweetheart" After the sentence confused you, you felt something cold like a screen being pressed against your forehead "Chu..." A sound that seemed to simulate lips echoed softly through your ears.

You closed your eyes, just for you succumb to dreamland

———

UHHHH.... Btw here for yall know how exaclty Olivia/O7 looks like

#Ai #ai x reader #yandere ai #yandere robot #robot x human #robot x reader #robot #robots #robot oc #robophilia #canon x reader #x reader #reader insert #ai #gender neutral reader #x reader oneshot #x reader fluff #artificial intelligence

[mutantchicohiphop]

Concept art of my IT AU! Here’s the cast n info! 👇🏽

Mickey= Bill

-13 year old boy who lost his older sister to Magica. He’s got quite the stutter.

Minnie = Bev

-The subject of Goofy’s school crush and is known as the town rag doll. Poor girl has been through hell and it only gets worse for her when she’s on puberty’s doorstep. She’s 11 and the youngest member of the party.

Panchito = Eddie

-With his father gone due to the Korean War, his mother (Doña Gonzalez) convinced him that’s he’s sick with asthma among a whole list of other things. Born and raised in the US with his father fighting for citizenship, he struggles with being one of the only Latinos in Leafside. He’s also a trans boy (ftm).

José = Richie

-Certified bad boy and trash mouth, 12-year-old Zé doesn’t know when to shut up. Underneath that squawking beak, he’s very much in love with his best friends Donald and Panchito.

Donald = Stanley

-Hes been trans since he was toddler and his parents have always been supportive. Raised by a German-Jewish father and Scottish convert mother, he is accepted by his own community and is preparing for his bar mitzvah to transition into manhood.

Oswald= Mike

-An outdated black and white toon abandoned by Disney, the 12-year-old Oswald is the outsider since he lives on a farm on the outskirts of Leafside. He delivers meat to the butcher’s every week.

Goofy = Ben

-fat, autistic, and the subject of Pete’s violent bullying. This 12-year-old lover boy wrote a poem for Minnie. His tastes in music are Little Richie, Elvis Presley, and The Ronettes.

Story contains a bloodthirsty witch who disguised herself as an old lady and resides in 1963 Leafside, a little neighborhood full of toons.

#fanartist #multifandom artist #digital artist #digital art #artists on tumblr #illustrator #digital commissions open #digital sketch #colored sketch #ducktales #mickey and friends #three caballeros #oswald the lucky rabbit #au artwork #it stephen king #magica de spell

[askthestans]

Stan and ford pines do you aware that you had fandon of your own who like making fanart about you and do you aware of fanfiction

Stanley: I dunno, ya might not wanna bring up fanart and Stanfiction in front of Sixer here. Not after the... incident we had a few days ago.

Stanford: I’ve seen many disturbing things in my life, but that horror we witnessed was beyond even what the nightmare realm could conjure. That’s why I destroyed it.

Stanley: You’re tellin’ me that you, Dr. Dorktron 3000, who built a portal because ya wanted ‘girls to start talkin' to you finally’, is offended that folks on the internet drew you in a rather generous light, some of them likely including girls? And not just pictures! They write stuff about you, too. I know we skipped out on nearly forty years together, but the Ford I knew as a kid woulda been overjoyed to get that much attention.

Stanford: Yes, but I want adoration for my mind, Stanley! For my contributions to science. My body is merely a vessel for me that I have to maintain on occasion so that I can continue to pursue this world’s mysteries. What use is attention for something I can’t control? I’d rather I be lauded for what I’ve achiev-

Stanley: There it is.

Stanford: What?

Stanley: *raises voice* Oh internet, don’t make pictures of me! I may be a silver fox and can’t control my studliness, but please notice my big sexy brain instead!

Cut the bull, Ford. Also, you look like me. I don’t mean to brag, but there’s a reason they call me Hunkle Stan. And if the internet can love a chubby old conman like me, well... you’re like the fitter version of that. Put two and two together and it just makes sense.

*Ford opens his mouth to argue, but pauses. His brown eyes widen and his brows raise, as if realizing something for the first time. The expression quickly leaves, though, replaced by a neutral face. Though anyone looking closely would notice that he is fidgeting with his hands, at first behind his back, then brings them forward and rubs one of his sixth fingers.*

Stanford: *sighs* Alright, fine. I won’t bring out any more nuclear weapons if the internet continues to make art of me... for whatever reason. But it better be fanart that emphasizes my dedication to knowledge, my skill with advanced weaponry, and most importantly, my bold sense of adventure into the world’s greatest - and weirdest - unknowns.

Stanley: A badass, then?

Stanford: A smart badass, to be exact. A scientist who’s as willing to investigate the strange as he is to protect those he loves from it. Something along the lines of this:

Stanley: Well, internet, you heard the man. Ford wants pictures and stories about being a sci-fi sideburn badass. No more speedos. Though if some were to just happen to show up in my mailbox...

Stanford: Nukes, Stanley.

Stanley: Hey, ‘til you start pitchin' in towards the electricity bill - which is ridiculous thanks to your nerdamagookery downstairs - I’ll do anything I need to to keep this place running. Just think of all the hunkle art and merch we could sell to hordes of fangirls in the gift shop!

Stanford: Nukes.

Stanley: Pfft, alright, fine! Wet blanket...

---

*That night, Stan walks down the Shack hallway to use the bathroom. However, someone’s inside. Stan is certain it’s Dipper, as he’s the usual culprit when the bathroom is occupied and music is blasting within. However, there’s no BABBA to be heard. Instead, synths and distorted and glitchy sound effects can be heard, as if someone is listening to a science fiction movie soundtrack. A little quieter are the small ‘pew pew’ and explosion noises, obviously made by someone’s mouth.*

Stanley: Hey, Dipper, quit nerdin’ out in there! All that Pitt Cola I drank is kickin’ in and-

*The music stops. Pure silence.*

Dips!?

*The twins peer around the corner.*

Dipper: Grunkle Stan, I’ve been in the living room for hours.

Mabel: Yeah, we’ve been watching this cool new show called Things are Strange! It’s about this little town in Indiana and there are all these mysteries and hot teenage boys and this cute monster called the Demogorgon!

Stanley: What? Then who...?

*Stan narrows his eyes and puts his fists on his hips.*

Ford? Ford, I know it’s you in there!

Stanford: I’m busy!

Stanley: Even with that permanent stick up your rear I know it doesn’t take ya that long to finish. And what’s with the nerd music? Look, Poindexter, you’ve got to the count of three...

Stanford: Stanley, this is my house! I can stay in my own bathroom for as long as-

Stanley: Two... I’m pullin’ out a bobby pin!

*A loud bang sounds as Ford puts himself up against the door. Stan takes out a bobby pin and unlocks the door faster than what seems physically possible.*

Alright, what are you doin’ in...?

*Stan manages to push the door back to reveal Ford in the bathroom, shirtless but wearing the pants, boots, and oversized goggles he wore when he walked out of the portal a year before. His scars and burns and healed wounds from the other dimensions are on full display. The rifle he had carried back from the portal is wrapped in his arms, as are two of his pistols, latched into hip holsters. His turtleneck and trench coat are nowhere to be found. The only tell of what might have just been going on is that the steam in the mirror from an earlier shower has been wiped away.*

What in the absolute- Ford? What the hell were you doin’ in here?

Mabel: Grunkle Stan, don’t be so rude to Grunkle... *Peers in alongside Dipper.* 

Stanford: *Cheeks turn beet red.* There... there was an eldritch beast that wandered in here. I had to make sure I killed it.

Stanley: Why were you playin’ music, then?

Stanford: I... I needed to distract it.

Dipper: Why’s the mirror cleared off?

Mabel: Wait, Grunkle Ford, were you posing in front of it?

Stanford: N-no! I told you, there was an eldritch abomination in here! Now, clear out while I continue to look for it. If it harmed any of you, I don’t know what I’d do.

*Stan, Dipper, and Mabel glance at each other silently. Stan and Mabel burst out laughing, meanwhile Dipper's eyes get nearly sparkly as he glances at Ford’s guns and scars.*

Stanford: I’m telling the truth! *Pushes them out and shuts the door and locks it again.*

Stanley: Oh sure, Ford. Be sure to put the sci-fi doofus track back on before you continue your epic nerd adventure!

Dipper: For what it’s worth, Grunkle Ford, you look cool!

Stanley: Quit kissin’ his butt, Dipper. Yeesh, keep talkin’ like that and I’ll start thinkin’ you write fanfic for Ford like Soos does.

Dipper:

C’mon, you don’t think I’d write fanfiction about my own great uncle, would you? What would I write about, anyway? How cool he looked coming out of that portal? How much I hope I turn out like he does someday, all buff and smart and awesome and battle-scarred?

Stan and Mabel: *Raise a brow.*

*Eventually, all three walk away from the door, Stan grousing about having to use the outhouse this late at night.*

Stanford: *Looks at the CD player by the sink.* Sorry old friend, looks like I’ll have to go without you from now on.

*Ford puts one boot up on the closed toilet, adjusts his goggles around his neck just so, then holds up his rifle with one hand somewhat behind his torso, the other angled so that his bicep is flexing. It’s at least another hour of him going through different poses in front of the mirror, some with the rifle, some with only one pistol, a few times with both pistols out. Through it all, he makes pew-pew and explosion noises.

When he hears that the Shack has become quiet, he finishes, nods at himself in the mirror, then heads out to go back up to his room. But first, he decides to go down to his lab to put the large rifle back.

He walks into the Gift Shop to find someone is there. He lifts his pistol and cocks it at the figure.*

Soos: Dood! Put it down!

Stanford: Soos? *Puts pistol down.* What the hell are you doing here this late at night?

Soos: Well, what are you doing here, in the Gift Shop, late at night, looking so... hunky?

Stanford: ...

Soos: ...

Stanford: Put that down! Wait, hey-

*Soos runs out of the Shack, screaming something about doing it for the internet’s sake. Also, because Stan said he’d pay him for any and all shirtless Ford pictures he could scrounge up.*

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #askthestans #Soos did it for you guys #but hey you know what Ford finally feels good about himself so that's cute #I imagined the sci fi music to be like the Mass Effect soundtrack or the Disto track Brad Breeck made but das just my headcanon

[cowsuponcows]

Woah, a proper intro post? More likely than you think!

Collective names are Rory/Kade/Klaus, fictive heavy DID system that currently doesn't have a steady host! Bodily 17, collectively he/it pronouns. We usually mask while posting unless it's specifically system related.

I'm trans male, biromantic, and asexual!

I have DID, adhd, and autism!

Request blog for fictives of traumagenic systems -> @fictivedanceparty

Interests: (Special interests are in red, current fixations are in pink)

Cows, Spongebob Musical, TMNT, Repo! a Genetic Opera, Carrie by Stephen King, Amanda Palmer and her bands (APATGTO, Dresden Dolls), Homestuck, JJBA, Ace Attorney, TF2, DHMIS, Nicktoons Unite, My Singing Monsters, Sam And Max, The Stanley Parable, UTDR, Ride The Cyclone, Invader Zim, Psychonauts, Nintendo, Portal, ROTTMNT, Spooky Month, Eddsworld, Craig Of The Creek, The Walten Files, poetry, gothic poetry, playing trombone (btw if you send me art requests for my fandoms I will kiss you on the mouth)

DNI: Endogenic systems/supporters, basic dni (terf, transphobes, homophobes, maps/pedos), nsfw accounts, proship, people who fakeclaim systems for having fictives

I don't have a proper tagging system set up yet, sorry! I'll try to set one up at some point!

Right now there's #strebers band adventures for honor band things/band things in general, and I usually tag fandoms I'm active in (even when reblogging)

There's also #pbh liveblogging for the homestuck fanfiction Purple Blue Hands!

I love making friends and mutuals! Don't be scared to send me a dm on here or discord, I'll usually respond! My asks and art request are open!

Add the homies on discord - lizard_kid#7346

[y0d00p]

new about mobile version

important note: my name uses zeroes. please do not call me doop or dOOp. i've said this enough times now that if you still do this i will probably block you, sorry

hello! i'm d00p and i like to draw and design characters and write stories. i'm 99% focused on OC content with the occasional Kirby and horror stuff. my reblogs go on @dameta

i'm currently working on a document that outlines all of my original stories, which I will link to here when it's done. in the meantime, you can peruse my (somewhat barebones) toyhouse or my OC tag, both linked and tagged below

my current favourite character is my OC Lad so you will see me post about him a lot. here's his toyhouse page for you to get acquainted (pls i worked so hard on it). if you talk to me about him at all i will literally explode

when it comes to Kirby i really really like Dark Meta Knight. most of my Kirby content/talk is about him and dametameta (DMK x MK). i have had a less than stellar experience with the fandom and don't plan on interacting or creating for it very much anymore, but i'm still happy to answer asks about it

i love all kinds of horror media and love talking about horror. i adore horror movies, "analog horror", creepypasta/nosleep, SCP, horror games, Junji Ito, creepy music, scary art, etc. i'm desensitized and obsessed with finding anything to scare and unsettle me and love recommendations for anything spooky (i have no interest "true crime" stuff)

other various things that i enjoy a lot:

Awful Hospital ★ The Binding of Isaac ★ Don't Hug Me I'm Scared ★ Feast for a King ★ FF14 ★ Godzilla ★ I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream ★ Inscryption ★ Kirby ★ The Legend of Zelda ★ Lisa RPG ★ Metroid ★ Minecraft ★ Paper Mario ★ Pokemon ★ Portal ★ SCP ★ Silent Hill ★ Splatoon ★ The Stanley Parable ★ SuriNoel

links and tags:

#due part - art

#due posies - OC talk

#d00p jumpscare - horror talk

toyhouse / sheezyart / twitter

#due part #due posies #d00p jumpscare #lad

[mothbagel]

Intro

1st impressions are difficult and easy to fail, so here are a few and you just choose which one you think works best

Hello fair traveler! I see you have stumbled into my area of the internet. But HARK! Be careful......here take this, it will aid you on your journey *hands you a silly moth*. Be wary, it is dangerous to travel on your own (insert plug of ask box/chat because interaction)

OWO what's this?? A COOL PERSON WHO I HOPE HAS A FANTASTIC DAY?? WOW, I AM SO HONORED TO BE IN YOUR PRESENCE

~exclaims eldritch horrors here~

Alright, now that is out of the way, time to talk about myself.

My name is Moth (& Co) and I use he/him pronouns (imma epic dude man bro)

Part of a plural collective called The Voder Neighborhood, not interested in partaking in syscorse.

My media interests are plentiful, but my current favorites are bolded/yellow: Watchmen, Inscryption, ULTRAKILL, All Hail King Julien, Omori, ENA, Witch Hat Atelier, Camp Here & There, The Stanley Parable, Jordan Peele movies (Nope, Us, Get Out), Superjail, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Delicious in Dungeon (Dungeon Meshi), Falsettos/In Trousers, I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream, Welcome to Nightvale, most indie horror projects (ex Skinamarink, Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, The Mandela Catalogue, Bugbo, Vita Carnis, Monument Mythos), Jesus Christ Superstar, The Magnus Archives, Electric Dreams (1984), The Book of Mormon (musical), The World of Mr Plant, Revolutionary Girl Utena, Portal, Gundam Witch From Mercury, Vocaloid, Beastars, 2001 A Space Odyssey, Team Fortress 2, Llamas with Hats, The Boys (tv), and Nyan Neko Sugar Girls to name a few

As for music my favorite bands are Ghost and Pals, Will Wood, and IDKhow

I am super normal about birds, internet horror, moths, comics (specifically marvels symbiotes/symbiote adjacent things), vocal synthesizers, robots, and religious symbolism

I REALLY LIKE CRYPTIDS AND CIVIL DEFENSE SIRE

My name is Moth (& Co) and I use he/him pronouns (imma epic dude man bro)

Part of a plural collective called The Voder Neighborhood, not interested in partaking in syscorse.

My media interests are plentiful, but my current favorites are bolded/yellow: Watchmen, Inscryption, ULTRAKILL, All Hail King Julien, Omori, ENA, Witch Hat Atelier, Camp Here & There, The Stanley Parable, Jordan Peele movies (Nope, Us, Get Out), Superjail, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Delicious in Dungeon (Dungeon Meshi), Falsettos/In Trousers, I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream, Welcome to Nightvale, most indie horror projects (ex Skinamarink, Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, The Mandela Catalogue, Bugbo, Vita Carnis, Monument Mythos), Jesus Christ Superstar, The Magnus Archives, Electric Dreams (1984), The Book of Mormon (musical), The World of Mr Plant, Revolutionary Girl Utena, Portal, Gundam Witch From Mercury, Vocaloid, Beastars, 2001 A Space Odyssey, Team Fortress 2, Llamas with Hats, The Boys (tv), and Nyan Neko Sugar Girls to name a few

As for music my favorite bands are Ghost and Pals, Will Wood, and IDKhow

I am super normal about birds, internet horror, moths, comics (specifically marvels symbiotes/symbiote adjacent things), vocal synthesizers, robots, and religious symbolism

I REALLY LIKE CRYPTIDS AND CIVIL DEFENSE SIRENS

I do art and writing (not that well lol) as well as just general talking. Most of my art will be fandom related, but I'll also post some ocs here.

I mainly communicate strong positive feelings via capitalized letters and keyboard smashing cause expressing emotions is hard.

NS

I do art and writing (not that well lol) as well as just general talking. Most of my art will be fandom related, but I'll also post some ocs here.

I mainly communicate strong positive feelings via capitalized letters and keyboard smashing cause expressing emotions is hard.

oc sideblog: @motholith

I'm working on having consistent tags, but I'm using #nyacaw for just me talking, #the arts for my art (oc and fanart), and #thanks for the ask :3 for, yknow, asks.

speaking of tags, tone tags are really helpful to me but not crucial

please don't send anything NSFW towards me

Because DNIs don’t really help, here’s an “I Don’t Interact With”

Don't support mental health and mental health recovery or “fakeclaim” people, I don’t know what’s going on with someone mentally and I don’t have any authority to say so

Are a steward of "cringe culture" here to make fun of me or anyone else (like seriously come on, you're just wasting both of our time)

Support/encourage non-con/incest/rape/MAPs fuck off

Are against or tease/make fun of people for using good faith identities that do not harm or have the potential to harm

Are very involved in discourse of any kind

with that in mind, I also use the block button as much as I want. I can’t control your internet experience, but I can and will tailor my own.

thats all!

#intro #nyacaw

[naggingatlas]

assigning oingo boingo songs to tf2 mercs bc my gf’s brain is so sexy

scout - sweat. the tempo the lyrics the overall character of it yesss yesssss yessssss i don't even have to comment on anything demo - helpless. griffins death pose ³ . oh he rrreally hit rrrock bottom oi. gene said this is the most she'd ever heard a character in a song. no mum killing tho. might have thought about it idk really, not a fan of sugarcoating how fucked up his upbringing was. anyway this being like the most acoustic song out of all of them? perfect. perfect demo material. also danny sounds like a yakuza character. spy - dead or alive + find you. 1. gene has a superbly logical explanation that it's about the dead ringer and is obviously not from his perspective. i adore it. i am also a schizo princess and like it when things don't make no fucking cents luv so its like spy and he's thinking about himself from someone else's perspective mb he's got like a little stanley parabola narrator in his brain and he panics at the thought of himself.......... and he Loves it. he loves himself :) 2. oh wow what the fuck oh wow what the fuck oh wow what th yeah pls listen to this shit above all else. gene recommends listening to them both as not from spy’s perspective but im evil and stupid im the devil on ur shoulder saying idgaf. soldier - vultures. gene review: "exceptional animatic potential". the acoustic in the bg swaying up and down adds so fucking much idk it's so classicky-sounding fits janey finely. рокетжампим товарищи. engie - wild sex in the working class. the actual fucking fact this title exists. the samples. the thoughts of dell workin his ass off on those oil rigs or whateva and then going to a gay bar!!!!!!!! fuck!!! pyro - only a lad. obv. oh the struggles of an unknowingly aggressive nd kid! the "perhaps a little bit confused?"-- fucking gets me!!!!!!!!!!! i don't take the lyrics seriously all the way she's got a pretty different backstory in my mind (has the oh fuck it's That kid stuff as well just diff) but it's still fun still fun sniper - on the outside. autism B) just a really good and realistic (like the bitch can get angry thank you) depiction of snipah. genie also thinks “this sounds like australian music idk” sakjdfhdskjh medic - perfect system + what you see. 1. ok so this is SO COOL ACTUALLY. first OBVIOUSLY perfect medic melody INSANELY MEDIC-LIKE VOCALS i want to ouroboros myself every time he sounds like he hits himself in the throat, sSECOND! see, in my head med hates all the governments the most out of all the mercs and i imagine him singing this to himself to ironically express how fucking much he hates it :) AND the . how the fuck do you call it. like med's bad at empathy and relationships and shit esp before misha and the "in love" parts are him mocking that institute of "this is how u should like people" that he had never fit into. omggg 97 personality disorders pride. ALSO the word brothers sounds so good and natural comin out of his mouth. + just figure that one out urself its simple and its more satisfying that way :) GIGAMEDIC VOCALS HERE AS WELL!!!! heavy - mary. gene was super uncomfortable talking about this one in any more depth than "no comment" and "the mountain symbolizes a lot of things but no not homosexuality. thatd be cringe". this is like neutral milk hotel levels of fucked up lyrics in the context of misha. fucked up in general. wow.

#tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 demo #tf2 pyro #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 soldier #im like casting poisoning spells on u i hate tagging but i want everyone to seeeeeeee

[honeysucklethornsandalligtrhorns]

TSP Character Headcanons!!

these are just personal headcanons of mine- you are not obliged to agree :]]

btw this will be a long long post so im putting the cut here lmao

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣:

-demisexual af. like he sees absolutely no appeal in ANYONE unless he's hardcore bonded with em (cough cough Stanley)

-ik this one is common but he absolutely talks with his hands, like, to the point where you have to stand further back because they're gesturing so much

-cannot STAND anything scented. scented candles, soap, even certain foods (hm? projecting onto characters who?)

-He could change his voice to sound like anything (like with the mannequin wife) they just went with a british accent since it thought it made them sound 'smart and sophisticated'.

-germophobe to the max- always washing his hands, wiping stuff down, etc.. it wears gloves often in order to keep itself clean (and sane)

-only ever eats dark chocolate (FOR THE RECORD I FUCKIN HATE DARK CHOCOLATE)

-he loaded in his human avatar once and hit their funny bone/ulnar nerve HARD against a desk, and proceeded to sob for an hour while Stanley calmed him down

-he/they/it pronouns babyyy

-will often show Stanley the dumbest most grandma/white mom-eqsue facebook memes (he thinks its comedy gold and Stanley never has the heart to tell it that they're oh so painfully unfunny)

-when it realised he had feelings for Stanley he immediately reset out of surprise and fear (stanley was three hours into the baby game and wanted to strangle them afterwards)

𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕝𝕖𝕪:

-before the Parable he'd use almost an entire bottle of hair gel every day to keep his hair flat (he honestly prefers it natural)

-this guy is the biggest fucking fan of fidget toys. buttons especially.

-pansexual but demiromantic babyyyy

-has in fact eaten several bugs, the current running list including a cockroach, a mealworm, and a surprising number of ants and flies (a lot of them by accident)

-has also eaten dirt, mud, and candy wrappers- he was the type of kid who just put everything in his mouth lmao

-uses 5 million emojis/tone indicators when he texts, it started out as a joke but now he genuinely feels like he can't get his point across without them

-instead of scented things, he can't stand bad textures- the feeling of stucco walls, rubbing your fingernail wrong etc.. it's one of the reasons he's not the biggest fan of slime- he hates the feeling of it sticking to your fingers.

-he fuckin loves citrus. the fruits, the scent, etc..

-when he realised he had feelings for the Narrator he just. locked himself in the broom closet with the bucket for a couple hours.

𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕒:

-demigirl AND a lesbian babyyy

-she loves berries. blueberries especially.

-yes, she can backflip. she learned how back in high school, trying out for cheer (their crush was on the team and they wanted to impress her).

-has a hard time letting go of things- gets attached very easily lmao. She has a ton of burnt-out candles and broken mugs still sitting around their apartment.

-has punched multiple people in the face and... other places, in defense of her friends- loyal af

-likes to sing but is mediocre at best; they're really into showtunes and 70s 'hippie music'. she got to see stevie nicks in concert, and considers it one of her highest achievements. also partial to heavier stuff like rock and roll

-has a really close relationship with their dad- he helped her a lot growing up and he was so supportive of them when she came out (projecting again?? ME???)

-she has a 14-year-old pet cockatoo named Alfred (idk why im including this it's just something i believe in)

this post is getting so long but i just had to include my favorites, part 2 later!!

#tsp #the stanley parable #tsp narrator #tsp stanley #tsp mariella #tsp headcanon #im having too much fun #hrrgh gay ppl...

[2fox2furious]

A Glitch in the System Part 3

"Stanley, wake up! It's time for an adventure."

Stanley might've been able to sleep through The Narrator calling his name, but he couldn't avoid the loud trumpet song shattering the peaceful morning silence.

Rubbing his eyes angrily, Stanley fumbled for the notepad and pencil laying on the bedside table.

[What are you doing??]

"Why, I'm getting you out of bed. We have a busy day after all." He poked his head into the room, only to be met with Stanley's angry glare. "Oh come now Stanley, I let you sleep long enough!"

[You better at least have made food for me.]

"Well, I have toast and coffee, is that good enough for you?"

Stanley groaned as he pulled himself out of bed. [I guess that'll do.]

The Narrator chuckled. "Good, good. Meet me outside once you're ready, alright?"

Stanley nodded. It didn't take him too long to get ready, and before long he joined The Narrator outside, a piece of toast shoved halfway into his mouth. He scoffed.

"Now now Stanley, couldn't you be at least a little more polite?"

Stanley huffed, gulping down the last of his food. [You woke me up with a trumpet!]

"Yes, well, I did it in style at least." He sniffed, readjusting his tie.

[I didn't even know you played any instruments. Besides that time you sung that song.]

"Excuse me, I am a wonderful musician." He set off into the forest, dry leaves crunching under his feet. "I even had a whole musical number planned out, did you know that Stanley? Yes, there was supposed to be a song and dance, it was all planned out and everything. Alas, it didn't work out but...hmm, maybe we'll run into some fragment of it while we're here. Yes, that would be nice. I did put a lot of effort into that after all."

Stanley nodded along, glancing over his shoulder at the cabin that was growing further and further away, disappearing into the mass of trees that surrounded them. [How will we find our way back?]

"Oh, don't worry about little things like that! Look at all this nature around us." He plucked a small, yellow flower from a nearby bush, turning it over in his hand. "It's beautiful, is it not?"

Stanley nodded absentmindedly, watching The Narrator out of the corner of his eye. He slipped the flower behind his ear, humming to himself, a warm smile on his face. Stanley didn't want to break the comfortable space between them, so he kept his pencil still.

Time blended together as they walked. The Narrator pointed out the occasional cool plant, or funny shaped rock, but besides that they found none of the living creatures you'd usually come across in a forest such as that one. No birds or squirrels or other various animals, and no sign of them either.

Stanley was about to recommend they turn back and try a different direction, when a bright flash of yellow caught his eye. He gestured towards The Narrator, before running off towards the structure.

It was hard to tell what it was at first. Only half of it was visible, the rest stuck under layers of packed earth. But when The Narrator saw it, his eyes let up.

"Yes, yes! This was the stage, Stanley." He smiled to himself. "The spotlights were supposed to go there, you see. I couldn't get them to work, it ended up being too glitchy. You can see over there, that's where the dancers were supposed to be, and—dear boy, what are you doing?"

Stanley had crept closer to the stage, hand hovering a few inches from it. He wanted to climb it and look around, but at The Narrator's voice, he froze.

"Stanley, you have to be more careful with this sort of thing! I don't—it would be inconvenient if you got injured now, so don't, okay?"

[Why not? If I do, you can just reset, and it'll be fine.]

"I wasn't able to reset yesterday, remember?" he tsked, walking over to Stanley. "I'd rather not take that risk."

Stanley went to write his response, but as he stepped away from the stage he hadn't noticed the thick root from a nearby tree poking out of the ground. He caught himself, but he couldn't stop the pencil from flying out of his grip.

"Stanley! My goodness, are you alright?"

He nodded, before holding a finger up. He needed to get that pencil back, he enjoyed talking too much to go without it. The top of the stage wasn't too tall, but not too tall for him to scale. The Narrator didn't realize what Stanley had been planning until it was too late.

"Stanley, wait—!"

He leapt, grabbing onto the side of the stage and hauling himself onto the structure. His pencil was just sitting there, and he waved it in the air to show The Narrator, before preparing to hop back down.

But then he fell.

Not off the structure, or through a hole in the stage. It was like sinking into ooze. The stage seemed to flicker around him as it swallowed him whole, plunging him into a void of flickering lights and colors. The Narrator's voice was there but Stanley couldn't make out the words he said, it was like being underwater. And that water pressed in on him, crushing his chest and drowning him on dry land. He couldn't tell whether the lights were getting dimmer or he was just blacking out.

But before he could fully pass out he felt himself being ripped from stage, sharp-clawed hands gripping onto his arm, fingers buzzing with energy. And then he was out. He hacked and heaved, trying to clear the pressure that still lingered in his lungs. He fumbled for his notepad, only to realize it wasn't in his pocket anymore. He let out a groan; he finally got his pencil back, and now this?

"Here, Stanley, take this. You dropped it."

Stanley let out a sign of relief at The Narrator's voice, but when he turned his head to look in its direction, the man wasn't there.

It was that... creature wasn't the right word, he knew that much. It was too humanoid. But humans didn't have four arms and grey, cracked skin, glowing with a bright yellow light. The sound of many ticking clocks filled his ears, drowning out that dull humming that seemed to eminate from within the being itself, the sound of running machinery. It tilted its head, mouth moving, but its words sounded far away.

"Stanley? Come on now, speak to me, are you alright?"

Stanley groaned, shaking his head like it could clear his head. When he blinked the next time, The Narrator was back to normal, but Stanley couldn't help but feel like his skin was still too cold. His eyes were still too bright.

He laid back down onto the dusty ground. [Who are you?]

The Narrator let out a surprised chuckle, sitting down in the grass next to him. "Why, I'm The Narrator. Surely you must know that already Stanley, we've spent so much time together after all. I am quite memorable too, did you perhaps hit your head?"

Stanley shook his head, scribbling down his response even faster than before, sacrificing some of its legibility in the process. [No, I know that, I mean who are you really? That's just a job, narrating.]

Another laugh, though this one sounded more nervous than surprised. It had a slight strangled quality to it. "I am The Narrator. That's all I've ever really been."

[Do you want to be something more then?]

"I'm afraid I don't know what that entails exactly."

[Well, to start, you should choose a name. Do you know how annoying it is to have to write out The Narrator whenever I talk about you?]

The Narrator sniffed indignantly, fiddling with his tie. "Choosing a name is a big decision, you can't just spring that decision on me!"

[No it's not.] Stanley shrugged. [If you don't like what you choose, change it. It's what I did.]

"You decided to change your name, and of all the ones you could've chose you chose Stanley?"

Stanley elbowed him, but he couldn't help but match The Narrator's playful smile. [Excuse you! I chose a different name but didn't like it and went back to Stanley. I think it's a great name.]

"I'm only kidding Stanley, I quite like your name. It really rolls off the tongue." He cleared his throat, before repeating with various intonations, "Stanley. Stanley. Stanley."

Stanley scoffed, but internally he was grinning. He really liked the way The Narrator said his name. Why hadn't he noticed that before?

[Well, what about for you?]

The Narrator's face faltered, if only for a second. "I'll get back to you on that, Stanley. I promise I will."

[Good.] Stanley stood up slowly, stretching, before reaching down to help The Narrator up too. [Can we go back to the house now? I've had enough adventuring for today I think.]

"Really? It's been barely any time at all."

[Well, we discovered another discarded idea and I almost died. We've been productive.]

The Narrator sighed, shaking his head. "Okay, okay. Let's go home."

#the stanley parable #tsp #the stanley parable narrator #tsp narrator #tspud #tsp stanley #tsp fanfic #fox's writing #tsp au #A Glitch in the System