#my notifications are scuffed as always rip

[i-luv-carl-grimes]

☾꙳all the things I hate about you☀︎꙳pt.2

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Chandler Riggs x Fem! reader

Summary: you recently got booked for an acting job playing a character in the walking Dead, it just so happens that you play the love interest for a character named Carl Grimes played by Chandler Riggs, and you soon realize you two hated one another

Warning: swearing and mention of blood

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"Miss Y/n L/n, we are more than pleased to tell you that you have been excepted for the role of c/n (u can name ya character<3) we are happy to have you on our team, the first shoot will be in 3 months on October 24, see you soon!" my mom read, my knees hit the ground and tears dressed my cheeks in ribbons.

"I'M GONNA BE BEST FRIENDS WITH A FAMOUS PERSON!!!" f/n yelled hugging me I just sat there shocked almost as if nothing that was happening really happened. 'We are happy to have you a part of our team' that ran through my head over and over again. "Why are you crying?" F/n asked only making me cry more. "I don't know!!" I yelled and lunged into her hug. "I'm so jealous you get to meet Norman (the actor for Daryl) you HAVE to let me say hi to him I think I might actually pass out," he said, her obsession with Norman was always big almost as big as mine for Chandler. "I will," I said my voice still wobbly and breaking as I whipped tears from my eyes. "Y/n you got a... Twitter? The notification" my mom said handing my phone and almost immediately started screaming and jumping around like an idiot.

"HOLY SHIT!" I screamed looking at the notification then f/n looked at my phone. "Holy shit..." she said. "Language!" my mom yelled. I then ran upstairs and jumped on my bed only to scream and violently kick my legs as if the cutest boy ever just followed me...oh wait. "Don't you play his love interest?" f/n asked, my legs stopped and fell, and my screams quieted, only to scream louder and my legs to move faster and harder. "I GET TO BE CARL FUCKING RIGGS LOVE INTEREST" I screamed with probably one of the stupidest looks on my face. "Geez n/n calm down, oh but God PLEASE let me meet Norman," she said and I sat up remembering... Georgia... Oh. "Of course, I will f/n! As long as you take care of yourself, please promise me that" I said walking over to her and grabbing her shoulders. "I promise," she said and pulled me into a hug. "What if he has a girlfriend," I said and f/n started to laugh. "God would you calm down your never this talkative," she said in between laughs. "HOW CAN I NOT BE!? I'M LITERALLY GONNA MEANT SOMEONE I'VE ADMIRED SINCE I WAS 8!!!" I said and f/n started laughing more I then jokingly passed her my mother then came upstairs

"Hun, how are we gonna tell your father?" she asked. "Oh....simple we don't" I replied in a cold tone. "We can't just tell him," she said and I started to pick at my sick (cuticles). "He lives in Georgia anyway" I scuffed. "I guess your right," she said then walked out. As I felt the skin in my fingers rip and blood going on my nails. "Y/n your picking at your skin again," f/n said and I looked down to see a re-open wound on my thumb, I just walked into the bathroom and grabbed a band-aid to wrap around it, "sorry about that," I said putting on a small forced smile. "It's fine, YOU SHOULD POST ON TWITTER," she said and I immediately jumped on my bed and took a screenshot of the email (keeping out the parts where it shows who sent it), and opened Twitter.

@u/n

Thank you so much for this moment and over all opportunity

I then posted it and turned to look at my ceiling with an ear-to-ear smile. "Y/N F/N WE'RE GOING TO A FANCY RESTAURANT TO CELEBRATE BE READY AT 6" my mom yelled I looked at my phone '3:30' we still have a while, my phone vibrated and I look to see a notification

@/g/u/n (just put someone u don't like)

I cant believe YOU of all people got the part I feel bad for Chandler

She said and I felt my heart drop, I hated e/n (enemy name), we used to be best friends to the point where we went everywhere together, on trips to the beach and having sleepovers every week that was until middle school, then she changes she began hanging out with this group of girls that for some reason NEVER liked me and she quickly joined them. But we were still friends weird right? well not to her I soon found out she was only using me to get with the boy I 'liked' the more I really think about it the more I realize I didn't even love him, I liked the thought of 'loving someone I really don't think I've ever been in an actual relationship, I mean I've never even thought of what love feels like. "geez is that thing still on your ass" F/n asked and I nodded. "Y/n, you playing Chandler fucking Rigg's love interest she doesn't have anything on you," she said making me feel better

-time skip-

it was now 5:30 and I had just gotten out of the shower, "hey F/n what should I do with my hair" I asked while she was picking out our outfits. "um...just wear it down don't worry about it" she said, I then grabbed a curling iron and put it to my hair, when I was done I put on light makeup, mascara, foundation and a bit of blush. "alright Y/n I got your outfit!" f/n yelled and I walked out of the bathroom and back to my room to see an outfit laying on the bed with f/n standing over it proudly. it was a black dress with a slit down the side of it as well as black heels. "f/n you now have I feel about wearing things like this" I said a bit hesitant to wear something that shows so much skin and overall looked like it would attract a lot of attention. "you an actor now! act like it and plus this dress isn't even a lot it's so simple" she said and I sighed. "whatever you say" I said while grabbing the dress and heels. "you know you gonna have to get over your attention problem your playing in a show that more than a million people have watched, you are going to be the center of attention everywhere you go from now on" she said and I leaned against the backroom door. "I know," I said before closing the door and changing into the dress. when I walked out f/n was already changed and covered her mouth with her hands and stared at me. "stop staring!" I said getting uncomfortable for how long she had been looking at me, "not only is my best friend famous but she's also so incredibly beautiful, I've won at life," she said and I turned away in embarrassment. "shut up, if we're on the topic lets talk about how beautiful my best friend is," I said and she chuckled. "as always still can't take a compliment" she teased and I pushed her. "girls, its time to go," my mom said and I up on a brown overcoat and a cream scarf (remember this takes place in autumn). We then went to my mom's car and drove to a very fancy restaurant.

꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter I'll post the next one tomorrow!!

#carl grimes #carl the walking dead #the walking dead #twd carl #chandler riggs #carl x reader #chandler riggs x reader #twd fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader

[zathechaosgod]

Favourtie Stream Moments

Streamed by Philza on Twitch on Wednesday 25th of November

Hardcore boi doing hardcore things today!

Phil send techno a picture of his offline chat and techno just replied

Also rip the old alerts he’s been changing them around

RIP GREEDY GREEDY PHIL

He’s so popular now he can’t hear himself think due to the notifs lol

Greedy greedy phil might come back in a different form though!

Quartress garden again tonight!

He’s gonna make the swing he talked about before!

Scam train pog!

And we’re already having problems with the bits not coming through rip

Bits are now coming through but tts is still broken ripp

Also all tts is brian now sadge

Techno said “why are they like this” about the offline chat lmao

(you’re safe for now, but we’ll see how long it lasts)

Gapple gang catch up from monday~~~

Swing-making struggles rip

I can tell it’s gonna be pretty tho

The MCC teams just got announced on discord but Phil won’t tell us :( there’s some interesting teams though?

End of season one vid! (for mcc)

Phil paused the video specifically to say that Tommy has beef with the social media woman lmaoo

Epic Landlord lmaooo “I was never sorry”

glow squid go brr

Phil is very hyped for the new monster hunter coming to pc

“Special bois, a pig, y’know, everything a quatress should have”

“i have a few shulkers” *opens full double chest, then second double chest half filled*

“no no no” with a wagging finger bc chat was begging for an earcheck lmao

blocks go brrrr

this is in context to the people who keep asking what he’s gonna do about the warden lmao

Phil just wants to make shrubbery, but someone requested fishing lmaooo

AND AN EARCHECK LMAOOO

no progress on stream lol this is why he started doing stuff off-stream

phil asked chat what was the most stressful thing from this past week and ian decided that was the time to confess he almost broke the sub server

also phil reminds everyone stressed by school that it gets a lot better once you’re done and that you’re going to be okay!

ranboo is here as well lol, his most stressful thing was dying in hardcore with phil on the call lmao

Earcheck time!

lol i actually just found out i had my headphones on wrong pog

rip the audio is scuffed he’s gotta restart the stream :(

also he’s finally fixing the donation tts

“tommy shouldn’t be in charge of anything, really”

this is about the banned board on dream smp

finally back to the swing and the garden!

i feel like phil might’ve just gotten a new hobby, we’re looking at stuff with the pretty shaders on again

photographer!phil anyone?

SLUGZA

“is it weird chat that i thought about naming that cow and immediately killing it, just to piss you off?”

(this is why my url is the way it is lmaooo, chaosza)

the nether void took 250k+ blocks of black concrete rip

pros and cons of tall oak trees: pretty, but such a pain to take down

a zombie piglin spawned in the tall tree and he’s now called Technotree lmaoo

i actually love love love how phil names anything pig related techno

There’s like 4-5 techno’s in this hardcore workd now lol

Someone suggested snowza for mcc13 and now people are spamming cumza again help

H E

S H E

someone asked if phil has a favourite kid and he refused to answer so now chat is just “it’s techno isn’t it”

love the amount of work a single tree is taking, so much effort goes in to spawnproofing

annd there he goes making ten stacks of buttons even though he does not need that much for a single tree

lmaoo there was another fishing request available bc he restarted stream

(he refunded it, chat is still spamming scamza)

honestly i live for the way momza is always on our side lmao

SCAM TRAIN LEVEL FIVE LETS GOO

also hella pog is replacing the log underneath technotree with basalt i would’ve just left it there lmao

7K SUBS POG

People are trying to pull a quackity support but phil doesn’t cry that quickly anymore

the tree looks so cool!

SNOOP TIME

aka time to weed out the weak ones (pun fully intended)

Lmaoo we gained viewers???

7777 go brrr

bot also go brrr to time out the 7s bc the bot doesn’t care

Seriously the tree turned out awesome especially with wet hands on the background

lmao he’s got no dark oak left bc it’s all buttons

soul lanterns!!! they might be my favourite item in the game they’re so pretty!!!

momza’s mom gifted 5 subs!!!

chat is discussing options please reply below: Nanza/Granza/Granmaza/Granza-in-law/Grannyza

comprimise on 7777subs: he’ll let it actually get to the sevens in the tts if he hit it

he can’t do all of the sevens bc tts would get wayyyyy too far behind

Things i’ve learned in minecraft today: You can place coral fans on the sides of other blocks!!!

Nethertree looks absolutely awesome, especially with the lanterns!!

Also with the rate subs are going, we might hit the subgoal next stream already? 500+ subs again already wow

rip game crashed due to the shaders

whoo the garden path actually leads to stuff now!

no shrubbery yet though and a greenhouse will also be added!

ohhh fallen tree possibly!

basalt+dead coral makes for an awesome fallen log!

Raiding Wilbur! 100man chaos lmao

GARBAGE DAY

#dream smp #mcyt #philza #sleepy bois inc #wilbursoot #ph1lza #philza livestream #technoblade

[yongiefilms]

TO BE A MAYBE.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: fluff; childhood friends to lovers!au

warnings: swearing; mentions of heartbreak; a certain someone is an ass in this fic so i think that should count

word count: 1.5k

summary: you never pictured that it would take your ex-boyfriend walking back into your life for you to start seeing lee jeno as something more than your friend.

“What the actual fuck?” you exclaimed out of pure and utter disbelief. You were stunned to say the least and just couldn’t grasp the fact that he walked through the door. The boy you once loved with your whole heart, but now despised to the inner core of your being.

Lee Donghyuck.

He strolled into the small coffee shop at an hour past two, striding in with all his golden glory. His hair was still that light chestnut color, but it was longer with the lengthy locks falling right above his deep eyes. He was wearing that overly worn blue Hawaiian shirt that you recall telling him you hated even if you secretly preferred it because Hawaiian shirts looked good on him, with the two top buttons undone to showcase a little bit of his chest. His silver necklaces could be seen on full display underneath and they slightly glistened when the fluorescent lights caught hold of them. His jeans were his signature black ones that were ripped at the knees and his extended silver chain was hooped to his black belt that brushed against his right thigh when he moved. He also wore his old faded black converse that scuffed against the tiled floor and skidded to a halt when he arrived at the counter. He was smirking at the female employee, eyeing her up and down when she wasn’t looking as he recited his order of a medium mocha Frappuccino. You rolled your eyes, how classic of him.

You were glad he didn’t notice you huddled in the corner of the shop when he eyed the scene around him to check for an open spot to sit, but you couldn’t help the ache you felt in your chest.

“Hey Y/N, you alright?” a soft voice asked behind you, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You turned around to answer right when you saw Donghyuck settle down at the nearest table to the entrance to wait for his order to be called.

“Yeah Jeno, I’m fine.” You forced a smile onto your face to reassure him that you indeed meant your words. However, immediately after the statement came out your mouth, you couldn’t help but be drawn to twisting your body back to Donghyuck, like second nature. He always seemed to catch your attention even without trying. You still saw him in his seat, his eyes trained on his phone as his fingers mindlessly tapped against the screen.

As if sending what a nonsense of an answer you gave him, especially when you cursed ever so loudly a few minutes ago, Jeno followed your line of sight straight to the boy in question. You couldn’t see the way his eyes softened, but not out of pity or remorse. No, his eyes eased out of understanding. He knew you were struggling out of a suffering you didn’t want to admit and sensing that you needed some form of comfort, he reached over to place his hand on top of yours. You were startled by the heat that suddenly spread throughout your whole body at his simple touch. You felt tingles erupt from the top of your head to the soles of your feet and you could feel the loud beating in your chest. Your entire nature was affected because Lee Jeno, your sweet childhood friend directly made contact with your skin. You had to get ahold of yourself before he could evidently hear how rapid your heart was beating or see the embarrassment in your face. He wouldn’t point it out since he was too nice for his own good, but you still couldn’t let him see how he influenced you so drastically when you couldn’t even think of seeing him in the light of being something more to you.

After composing yourself and absentmindedly following the movements of Donghyuck as he rose up from his chair to proceed towards the counter to pick up his order, you forced your eyes away from your first love. It was over and there was no going back, why torture yourself further?

The smile that slipped onto your face when you turned to Jeno again was genuine and you were glad he didn’t offer any remarks of solace once he saw the other boy in the shop. He knew and his silence was enough. Your fingers curved up to intertwine with his own and you felt him give you a reassuring squeeze back. Things were effortless with Jeno. He knew what to do or say without ever truly voicing his opinions. His lucid gestures and gazes were enough. He made you feel safe, warm, and adored. Things you desired more than anything, especially during a time in your life when all you knew was torment from your broken soul, something that was still healing.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” A honey voice spoke out, jolting both you and Jeno in your seats. There, in front of your table stood Donghyuck with his medium mocha Frappuccino in one hand and his other fixed in his front pocket. “My ex-best friend and my-ex girlfriend together? Who would have thought this…” he gestured between your two intertwined hands with his eyebrows raised. “Would have happened after my departure from both of your lives.” He brought the straw up to his lips to take a sip. “It is surprising I must admit, but not unexpected. I always knew something was there even before I started dating Y/N. You just can’t control yourself, huh Jeno? Always going after what’s mine, even before we ever became best friends.” Donghyuck rolled his eyes and smirked in Jeno’s direction.

“Oh fuck off, Donghyuck,” Jeno uttered out abruptly, shocking both you and Donghyuck. Jeno never cursed no matter how much he was annoyed or angered. He never let his emotions get the best of him. He was the calm and leveled one, not the hot headed one. It indeed was astonishing to see him act out so publicly just because Donghyuck provoked him. This never happened before even when Donghyuck instigated him in the past. Why become irritable now?

“Getting bold are we? I must have hit a nerve. You wouldn’t have spoken out unless it was true,” Donghyuck snickered, making clear eye contact with Jeno as if he was challenging him.

It was now your opportunity to speak up. To defend yourself and most importantly the charming boy who had his hand entangled in yours.

“Shut the fuck up, Lee. Why are you bothering us? We are none of your concern anymore so get lost,” you sternly declared and glared up in his direction. He was still standing before you, his arrogance emitting very prominently, it was almost suffocating.

“My dearest Y/N, you wound me. Why can’t I be a good person and come over to say hi? Am I seriously that bad? Did I hurt you that much?” He pointed at himself and let his hand drop to his side as he mockingly laughed at you.

You gritted your teeth. “Screw you.”

You felt Jeno tighten his grip on your hand and give you a squeeze. Donghyuck’s eyes zoned in on the action and he scoffed.

“Just leave. Don’t make me tell you again.” Jeno harshly said and scowled at Donghyuck. He put his hands up and backed away from the table, but right when he did so his phone dinged. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket with his free hand and stared at the screen, chuckling at whatever notification appeared. He smugly glanced at the both of you, tilting his head as his hair fell over his eyes.

“Fine. I’ll leave, not because you told me to, but because I have somewhere to be.” He tucked his phone back into his pocket and took another taste of his drink. “I wish you the best of luck in your little fling you have going here. I would say relationship, but considering you both, especially Y/N’s trust problems, I say it won’t last long.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but you felt Jeno position his arm over your shoulders to hug you close to his body, stopping you from what you were going to say. He brought his head alongside yours and whispered in your ear. “He’s not worth it.”

Donghyuck’s snigger rang loud. You forgot he was still there as you never did see him go. “Yeah right.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Until we meet again.” He nodded at Jeno then gave a small, teasing wave to you and pivoted on his heels to finally depart, not opting to wait for a goodbye greeting from either of you, although you wouldn’t have given him one even if he asked. He didn’t deserve it, nor was he worthy to have your heart in the first place since all he would do was crush it with his bare hands.

So when you heard the ding of the shop’s bell and the slam of the door of what you presumed to be Donghyuck leaving, you knew that Jeno would still be there right next to you and would be the one to yet again, pick of the pieces of your ever recovering, fragile heart. He was your rock, your stronghold and maybe he could be your next love, just maybe.

#neowritingsnet #nct scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #lee jeno scenarios #best friend jeno #nct dream scenarios #nct one shot #jeno x you #jeno x reader #nct soft hours #jeno fic #nct fluff #lee jeno fic #nct #nct dream #lee jeno #jeno #nct dream jeno #nct jeno #nct au #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct dream au #nct dream soft hours #jeno fluff #lee jeno fluff #nct dream fluff #jeno drabbles #childhood friend jeno

[sleep-i-ness]

Love At First Coffee (Vanya Hargreeves x reader)

Summary: Y/N is a struggling flautist, trying to make ends meet, but when a violinist catches her eyes, life doesn’t seem quite so difficult.

Request: No

TUA Taglist: @neymarlionelmessi7​

Beep beep beep. Y/N groaned, stretching out languidly as she patted her bedside table. Her fingers found nothing but the worn wooden surface. Blearily rubbing her eyes, she pushed herself up onto one elbow. The alarm was incessant. Where on earth was that phone?

The bitter smell of coffee filled the kitchen as she poured the boiling water into her chipped mug.  A lethargic ache had settled into her bones; the haphazard pile of unopened letters mounting her dread the more she looked at the mess. A quick glance at the plastic clock ticking merrily away warned her she was on the verge of being late if she did not leave now.

Y/N slung the straps of her flute case and tattered leather satchel over her shoulder, her crumpled sheet music clutched in one hand. The lock of her apartment was always such a fiddle and she stuffed the sheet music in her satchel, wincing as it creased even further. She yanked the door shut, leaning backwards to align the lock as she twisted the key.

With a huff, she blew the strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes during her tussle with the door. Her path was a familiar one; down the hallway over the scuffed tiles, where she’d have to wait for the creaky elevator to haul itself up to her, and then out onto the street. Past the rowdy bar that never seemed to shut and the hot dog street vendor to the bus stop, littered with chewing gum and graffiti. Then, depending on whether she had the time to waste on the agonizingly slow journey, it was either onto the grimy bus, nodding to the leering driver, or straight past, a brisk walk of about 20 minutes to the concert hall.

Today was not going in her favor. Y/N sighed as it pulled away from the stop. No need to make a choice now. The walk into the more central and less dodgy area of town was usually quite unpleasant; the streets were still reeling from the nighttime activities. She wrinkled her nose as the putrid scent of rotting garbage filled the air, a dumpster nearby overflowing with ripped trash bags. 

Keeping her head down, she hurried through the streets, neatly sidestepping the ‘businessmen’ on their flip phones and the gossiping ladies, one hand always clamping their handbags shut. A rush of balmy air burst through the vent as she passed over it, the warm stench of urine and cooking garbage wafting upwards. Left, then a right, then straight on past two crossroads and lines of honking traffic and foul-mouthed drivers, swearing at the day for daring to begin. Wait for the lights to turn red, cross over and continue down the road until you reach the performers door.

The Icarus Theatre. Y/N would have liked to be one of those performers who gushed on about how their performance center was ‘like a second home’, but that was cheesy and frankly unrealistic. Her dreams of being a world-famous flautist had been crushed the moment she’d received her first lot of bills and realized how naïve she truly was. The joy in performing in an orchestra was short-lived as every day felt like a struggle to scrape together enough money to keep herself out of debt and prove her parents wrong. That was enough to dampen anyone’s spirits.

Every hour she didn’t have a rehearsal, she was booked chockful with students of all ages and genders who turned up with a passion for the flute. Or their parents were forcing them to go. Either way she got paid and hoped that maybe she was imbuing someone with a new appreciation for classical music.

“Morning, Will.”

The principal piccoloist was already sat in his seat, absorbed in conversation with Lucy, one of the second violins. He glanced over and raised a slender hand in acknowledgment. Will was always punctual and smartly attired, wearing crisply ironed shirts and smart blazers, free of lint. Y/N was sharply aware of the contrast between them, her shirt creased and half-untucked and her hair escaping from its bun.

She flipped open the latches on her case; there was a trick to it, you needed to open both at once while opening the lid at the same time. Her prize and joy, her baby lay inside. The first time she had ever saved up enough money to buy herself something worthwhile, she had bought a professional flute. Before then, she’d been using her aunt’s old flute from the 60s, a battered old thing that was lucky to even still be able to play.

The murmur died down as Lorin Toscanini, the conductor, stepped onto the raised podium and raised his baton. Y/N slipped into her seat next to Will, who raised an eyebrow at the creased sheets she deposited onto her stand.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Today we need to fix the timing on the opening sequence. Remember this is iconic and it needs to be perfect. Second violins, I hope you have improved since yesterday.” The nasally tone of Toscanini grated on Y/N’s nerves, especially so early in the morning when she would much rather be in bed.

Y/N raised her flute to her lower lip, watching the baton as it swayed in time with the music. Down, left, right, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. The violins and cellos came in in unison on the downbeat, bows drawing across the string in harmony. The harmonies in perfect time caused shivers to run up and down her spine as the bows swayed mournfully across the vibrating strings in unison.

Okay. 4, 5, 6, 7, 8-

“Stop, stop,” Toscanini cried out, baton smacking against the stand. All instruments were immediately lowered, as a sign of deference. Something about stroking his highly inflated ego. “Someone in the clarinets is playing a B natural instead of a B flat. Now remember, we want to create a sense of tension, so the dynamics start off at piano and then we reach mezzo forte. But this isn’t the most dramatic section; we are building up to that. So, at bar 4 we need an audible diminuendo. Like tiptoeing... From the top!”

There was something so magical about playing in an orchestra when it all slotted into place. You stopped being an individual person and instead became immersed in a group movement of sound and emotion, compelling the listener to be draw in with you. The different melodic lines weave together into one, playing off each other to create a final piece.

It was an almost addictive sensation. The feeling of being swept away and losing sense of oneself in the bigger picture of a whole was something Y/N craved when she wasn’t playing. Music restored a part of herself that she sometimes didn’t realize she was missing. It lifted her away from the mortal world, to a place where the music and the notes were the only thing that mattered.

Y/N’s eye fell upon one of the first violins, newly promoted, her brown hair pulled back tightly in a low ponytail. The woman’s brow was furrowed as her fingers danced over the neck of the guitar, swaying gently with the music. Momentarily transfixed, Y/N’s mind turned foggy as she lost count, all thoughts focused on the violinist.

The piece drew to its climax, as if a great beast had climbed to its hind legs and roared. A mounting rush of notes as each musician lost themselves in the crescendo, furiously playing. Cascading melodies toppled over each other, nimble fingers tumbling up scales and bow strokes timed impeccably.

E, G, A!

An audible sigh of satisfaction echoed round the room as the piece ended without any pauses for tinkering; the joy of a composition well played shared throughout all the players.

“Beautiful, just beautiful. I think we’ll call that a day, there. Our next rehearsal is at one on Wednesday, now do not be late.”

Now that the piece had ended, Y/N glanced over to the violinist she had spotted earlier. While Y/N quietly packed her instrument away, the woman prepared to slip out, unnoticed. Should she…?

“Hey,” Y/N flagged down the women, fingertips brushing the cuffs of her dark shirt. “I’m Y/N, I noticed you playing. It was beautiful! You recently got moved up from fourth chair to third, right?”

“Yeah,” the woman seemed flustered by the attention, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. “I’m Vanya, it’s nice to meet you.”

Y/N pulled her slipping straps back onto her shoulder as she grinned at Vanya from beneath the curls threatening to fall in her face. “Pretty name. Say, are you busy now? I know an excellent little coffee shop across the road.”

Vanya flushed as she murmured some expression of gratitude. She hesitated, carefully switching her phone on and off again before sliding it back in her pocket when no notifications showed up. “I’m free for a couple of hours. I have to teach lessons from 3 though.”

The coffee shop was quaint and always quiet; since a Starbucks had opened only a few doors down, business had slowly dried up until only a few regulars and those who were opposed to coffee from chain shops came along. Vanya fidgeted with the strap of her violin case, her eyes darting around the shop’s wooden and gold furnishings.

“Hey Marjorie, I’ll have a cappuccino and a chocolate éclair. Vanya, what do you want?”

“Oh, you don’t need to order for me, I can pay for myself.” Vanya’s eyes widened as she protested profusely.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning nonchalantly against the bar, “I asked you to come with me for coffee, there’s no way that I am going to be so rude as to make my guest pay for her order. So?”

“I’ll have a mocha, thanks.”

Y/N soon joined Vanya where she was sitting, tucked away in a booth in the corner.

“One mocha, milady.” God, she sounded like one of those ‘nice guys’ in the Instagram DMs.

“Thanks,” Vanya laughed, and Y/N decided she quite liked hearing that sound and that she was definitely going to try and hear it more often. Especially, she wanted to see the way Vanya’s eyes crinkled as she tried to stifle her giggles and how her hand flew up to try and cover her face.

“So, tell me about yourself,” Y/N propped up her head on one hand as she sipped at her cappuccino, blowing softly on the frothy layer.

“Umm, I don’t know what there is to say, I’m a pretty boring person.”

Y/N could not believe that. There was something so hypnotizingly attractive about Vanya; a quiet sort of pretty that crept up on you when you were least expecting it and stole your breath away. Someone like that could never be boring, every inch of her whispered of a tale to be told.

“Have you got any siblings? Pets?”

Vanya’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly before she smoothed her features out, as if to imply Y/N should know something. “Yeah, I have a sister and 3 brothers.”

“Wow, 3 brothers. That must have been a nightmare!”

“Yeah, I was kind of the black sheep of the family. But I haven’t spoken to them in years; we just ended up drifting,” Vanya’s tone appeared nonchalant, but a nervous hand gave her away as she massaged her neck. “It was my fault basically.”

“No that’s ridiculous. The only real excuse for cutting you off is if you killed someone or put someone in danger, and no offence, you don’t seem particularly capable of either of those things,”-Vanya pulled a face-“in a good way!”

“I don’t know, I feel like I deserved it.”

Y/N tore the éclair in half, messily coating her fingers in chocolate as she pressed her fingertips into the half-melted layer on top. “For you. Because fuck shitty families. Who needs them, am I right?”

Vanya giggled and raised her half in response, touching them together to make a toast. “Amen!”

There was a lull in conversation as attention was redirected to eating the intoxicatingly good pastries.

“What about you?” Vanya mumbled; mouth full. There was a tiny dot of cream on the left corner of her mouth and Y/N stared, transfixed as her tongue darted out to dab it away.

“Oh, me. Well, the whole struggling artist career path was not one my parents had hoped I would go down. In comparison to my banker brother, I’m a bit of a disappointment and they make sure to let me know.”

Christmas this year had been a nightmare. It was full of meaningful looks from her parents as her brother prattled on about his new promotion, or the last exotic trip he went on, or the wonderful restaurants near his place of work on Wall Street. She didn’t know what they expected her to do; just suddenly become a high-profile surgeon?

Vanya placed her hand over Y/N’s, looking earnestly into her eyes. “You’re not a disappointment. Fuck what they think.”

Y/N cracked a half-hearted smile at the sentiment of Vanya’s sentence, although there was a certain strangeness to hearing her say ‘fuck’. A hot sensation prickled the back of her neck as Vanya kept her hand where it was, her gaze never wavering as she seemingly searched for something in Y/N’s eyes.

“Well, now we’ve got the family trauma out the way, what do you like to do for fun?” Y/N said, every muscle relaxing as Vanya moved her hand to pick up her mug. She hadn’t realized how tense she was, nervousness laced into every tendon.

“Well, my life seems to be taken up with violin, but I enjoy writing. And I can cook.” Vanya paused to think about what she was saying. “Somewhat.”

“Somewhat?” Y/N laughed, trapping her lower lip between her teeth as she awaited Vanya’s response.

“I’m not about to be out here claiming that I’m world-class standard. However, I do make a mean cottage pie which you will have to try someday.”

Someday. That was promising. Y/N smiled sweetly, nodding fervently. “I’d like that very much.”

Y/N took a sip of her cappuccino, recoiling as the tip of her tongue was scalding by the still piping hot coffee. Vanya took one look at her and grinned.

“You’ve got something there,” she said, tapping the tip of her nose.

“Where?” Y/N rubbed her nose.

“No, wait, up a bit- to the right, no, left, umm-”

“Would you mind just getting it for me?” Y/N interrupted her, and Vanya froze.

“Yeah, uh,” she leant across the table, thumb extended as she brushed the callused pad gently across Y/N’s skin. “There. All gone.”

“Thanks.”

They shared a soft smile.

The walk back to Y/N’s apartment was swelteringly sticky, especially in the noon sun. However, today felt different. Buoyed along on a cloud of joy, she practically skipped over the cracks in the sidewalk and past the piled trash bags. Her mind swooped over the fields of possibilities, whirling thoughts on a tangent of their own. The storm in her mind had cleared to allow a small shaft of sunlight through to shine on the choppy waves below, great dark clouds parting with hope.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Hi Y/N, it’s Vanya.

Y/N could barely contain the gleeful grin as she read the message, pressing her phone to her chest.

Hey Vanya, it was really nice to have coffee with you today. We should do something like that again.

Barely a couple minutes had passed when her phone emitted the telltale ding, alerting her to a new incoming message.

Absolutely. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you promised to try my cottage pie.

Y/N tapped out a quick response, finger hovering over the send button as she reread it.

It’s a date.

#tua #the umbrella academy #tua imagine #vanya hargreeves #vanya #hargreeves #vanya x reader #number 7 #number seven #number 7 x reader #white violin #vanya hargreeves x reader

[alitheamateur]

Harley & Heat Lightening

A Tommy Conlon/Reader Imagine

This is just my own little guilty fantasy....

Warnings: NSFW. Language. Mentions of night terrors. I mean, I just feel like Tommy Conlon in general is a warning.

Word Count: 2,149

(Photo from Google)

The beaming white glow of a notification on the chipped screen of your phone face-up on the nightstand seeped through your closed eyelids. The chime notified of you the facts you already knew regarding a warning for heat-lightening throughout this blazing summer night. You praised the heavens for the air conditioning blaring from the vent in the corner of the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend, who was seemingly missing concluding from the cool sheets on his side of the queen bed. 2:53 in the morning by the looks of the alarm clock, which meant Tommy was probably up with a nightmare again, and was roaming the house somewhere, most likely clutching a sleep aid in the form of a whiskey bottle. He had those relentless demons under control for the most part. But, you always kept a single bottle of his favorite brand tucked away for emergencies. You didn’t understand what he went through, and you certainly couldn’t cure him. So, you’d love him amply, and if he needed a swig to knock back a terrorizing flashback here and there, so be it.

You squirmed and rooted amongst the tangling wad of sheets, fluffing and flopping your pillow to seek a comfortable position in the empty bed, but it was useless. You’d worked yourself into a restless, irritable tizzy, so you decided to mosey downstairs to investigate Tommy’s state. The ribbed, white tank top belonging to the man in question fit your frame loosely, and the lightweight cotton kept you cool on nights like this. And of course, he never complained about your skimpy preference in sleep attire. You tied your hair into a floppy muddle at the top of your head so the ensuing sweat on the nape of you neck could drink in some breeze, as your bare-feet padded down the four stairs leading into the tiled kitchen. 

The hanging light above the sink which Tommy usually flicked on when he escaped the bedroom for a night cap wasn’t on, and the entire span of the lower level was pitch dark aside from the thin lines of moonlight coming thru the blinds to paint the floor.

“Tommy?” You whispered. Truthfully a bit alarmed at the bleak silence around you.

When receiving no answer, you tip-toed stealthy to the side door leading into your garage, peeping around each corner like a scared cat along the way. When you gripped the handle to pull open the door, and the yellow, dingy light of an overhanging bulb dilated your eyes contrasting the darkness, and you saw Tommy twisting a wrench somewhere on the motor of his bike, you sighed with relief.

“Hey you. I didn’t wake ya’, did I baby?” He turned at attention when the metal hinges squeaked upon your opening. Tommy sat shirtless on a scuffed stool, the wheels attached to its legs rolled him towards a toolbox to exchange out his wrench. His torso glistened in the light just so subtly, and his top lip beaded barely with sweat, which told you he must’ve escaped the bed much earlier than you discovered.

“Not at all. I just noticed you weren’t in bed, and I thought I’d come check on you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to conceal the noticeable peak of your nipple raising through the shirt you wore. It was teetering 96 degrees, and there wasn’t a single waft of wind outside, but you knew it was simply a reaction to the sight of Tommy, basted with perspiration, and smudged with motor grease. As he clanged a hammer onto some unknown piece of the motorcycle, the muscles of his back crawled and stretched beneath his suntanned skin, and the heat at your center could make this July night in Pittsburgh seem like the North Pole.

“Yeah, I uh… I couldn’t sleep. I was tossin’ and fuckin’ turnin’, so I came on out here so you could rest.”

You felt proud, and at ease that he’d chose to tinker with his motorized toy, rather than turn straight to the liquor as an outlet. The dreams, and the panic had become less present since you’d moved in permanently, and you thought maybe there was a sunny horizon in the near future. Peace for Tommy, and less worry for you.

“I know the feeling. That A/C is nice and all, but on a night this hot, nothing really keeps you comfortable enough to rest really. Whatcha workin’ on?” You inquired, lazily approaching to look in on his little project. Before you reached Tommy, you sidetracked to his work bench in the corner, clenching onto a stained, but clean rag to wipe down his dripping neck. When you patted his back, and blew cool, airy breaths under the hair that rested on his ears, Tommy huskily sighed and leaned further into your feather-like feminine touch.

“Nothin’ you’d be interested in. Just tryin’ t’ distract myself. Idle hands, y’know?”

He reached backward to clench your hand from where it rested on his hard shoulder and pulled it closer to his mouth where he could kiss your soft palm. His always moistened lips lingered, and you ran your fingers through his disheveled, musky-scented hair to relish furthermore into his touch.

“Seems like I got anotha little distract that needs my attention though, hm?”

He slothfully laid his head back to rest on your standing form behind him, and the crown of it settled perfectly between your barely shielded breasts. Tommy turned his cheek into you, nuzzling into your pert, pink bud. He remained planted in the mobile seat, but suddenly decided to roll the wheels around, circling a 180 to face you.

Your fitful, whimpering squeaks of approval made him grin callously, and he continued his works to have you panting and damp like a shameless nymph. There was nothing Tommy didn’t put his whole mind to when he wanted it, and making sure your screams were louder than the time before, was no exception.

You sat willfully onto his open lap, straddling and grinding heartily on the pulsing member inside his flattering track shorts, eliciting Tommy’s strong hands to claw at the teasing, cheeky exposure from under the hem of your nightshirt.

“Did this hot little pussy wake up lookin’ for me, huh? Had to come ‘n find me so I could help her sleep? Is that it, baby?” A thumb ghosted between your legs so he could damped it with your wetness before sliding in between his own lips.

You hadn’t come in search of a night cap in the shape of Tommy Conlon, but judging by the drenched crotch of his shorts below you, it was something you needed and didn’t know it until now.

“T…. Tommy. Wait…” you words barely resembled your own voice as you attempted to briefly protest. “The door. We should close the garage door, Tommy.”

Doing polar opposite of your request, the seething man boldly scrunched both fists around the neckline of your white tank and ripped it brazenly in half to discard onto the mud-stained, dirty floor of the garage. Leaving you fully exposed, and speechless.

“Let ‘em see. Once you go yelpin’ and beggin’, they’re gonna have a good idea what’s goin’ on anyway, baby.”

Your nails were digging into his pecs, and you tensed your legs tighter about his waist as Tommy stood from the stool to place your naked cheeks on the padded seat of his iron horse. Tools, and gas cans clanged and toppled to the floor as he roughly kicked off his clothing, kissing you with sensual, and raunchy purpose as he did so. You were already substantially aching, and prepared to take him in, but even still Tommy squatted to greet your southern lips with his tongue.

He gently tasted you, lapping from your entrance, up toward the bundle of nerves between the apex of your thighs. One hand squeezed all too tightly in his now knotted hair, and the other gripped around one handlebar of the bike you writhed atop of. The two-wheels, and kickstand didn’t seem too comfortably stable in your opinion, but you trusted Tommy always in his spontaneous sexual tendencies. The pair of you may wind up crashing on the concrete below if he thrusted too hard, or your legs quaked too swiftly, but he’d still have you blushing with release regardless.

“Taste me, Tommy.”

His sucked, and spit, and nipped with his teeth cautiously at your center, moaning satisfactory curses about how you always tasted so sweet. Never in your life, could you ever imagine a man who enjoyed the oral pleasuring of his mate as yearningly as Tommy did. Your closest friends pouted, and resentfully congratulated you for finding a man as such.

“I’m gonna lose it if I don’t get inside you, Y/N.” A concoction of your own arousal, and Tommy’s saliva dribbled down his chin, and he greedily caught the liquid with is tongue upon standing to line himself up with you. You could see in his lustful, now black appearing eyes that he was a glutton for your flavor.

The deeper he slid in, the higher your orgasmic daydreams took you. You were full to the hilt, and nearly to the throat as his eager tongue explored your mouth upon a hard, knee-quaking kiss. Crickets sang outside sporadically, unbothered by the bursting connection of skin on skin echoing from inside the garage where Tommy was currently kneading your breast with his fight-scarred hands. The jet-black motorcycle rocked with his thrusts, but he held you dutifully in place, keeping his balance to ride you out to complete, blissful release.

He tried to politely, and teasingly shush your amplified pleads for more by placing his index finger over your gaped lips, but it was utterly ineffective. Not that he indeed wanted you to hush though. He got harder, and crazy with desire the louder your pitch rang out, and the more he heard his name choke from your raspy throat.

“Tommy! Yes, Tommy. Ahh, more!”

You felt every ridge and ripple as he pulled himself from your insides, then ruthlessly, and enjoyably a bit painfully drove in again. His hand massaged and trailed down the stretch of your silky throat, and his chewed his lips watching you take every steel inch of him.

Unexpectedly, just as your peak of release danced upon your tongue, a jolting rumble of thunder pulsed over your ears, following a crack of erratic heat lightening. One by one, an abstract pattering of rain drops began to peg the rooftop, bringing forth a gust of lukewarm, thunderstorm breeze. Tommy’s arms broke out into goosebumps as he watched your hair blow loose with the wind, and your insides clenched and pulsated around him.

“Drown me, baby. C’mon… can you come for me?”

The filthy demand shoved you dangerously towards the cliff of orgasm, and you whimpered airily watching his taut abs flex as his own breaths hitched and hiccupped. His brows didn’t furrow in bliss when in the cage. And a good workout didn’t make him shiver and come unwound like this. No, it was only you who could claim the title of vicious Tommy Conlon’s one and only weakness.

Your hand sought blindly a reliable, unwavering surface to grip onto as you prepared for the storm raging outside, and the one rising forth from your insides. Looking solely and focused into your boyfriends’ mysterious blue eyes, you began to smile and shake your head wildly signifying he was yet again about to render you spent and fulfilled. Tommy tilted his head and patiently waited for his queue that you had indeed finished, and he had to green light to spill inside of you.

“Lookit that. The whole city owes us a ‘thank you’ for coolin’ it down out here. We worked up a damn thunderstorm out there, baby.” Tommy joked as he easily slid your tiny, manicured feet on the ground underneath you, wiping the outpour of sweat from his face with his tattooed forearm.

Inside your mind, you compiled a list of secluded locations, and parks he could take you on the bike tomorrow morning once the rain had moved out. After that exchange, you suddenly desired nothing more than to bounce harshly on the bare lap of Tommy, gripping and scratching at that perfectly weathered and beaten leather jacket he always wore.

You strained on tiptoes to kiss his puffy lips before nervously darting towards to house, now afraid to be seen by the neighbors since the overflow of adrenaline and spontaneity had worn off. Tommy flipped off the garage light, and chased you down the hall towards the bathroom, pinching at the most ticklish corners of your body along the way.

“Good idea. I think you need a cold shower. Oh, ‘n if I ain’t in bed when you’re done, please feel free to come and find me again.”

TAGS: @torialeysha @ea91935

#tommy conlon fanfic #tommy riordan #warriorfanfic #tommy conlon x reader #Tom Hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tommy conlon #tommy conlon imagine #tommyconlonfanfic #warrior #fanfiction #fanfic

[your-highnessmarvel]

Imagine Loki

Requested by anon:  I LOVE your blog! I have notifs on :) do you think you could do a fic / imagine with a plot like this: Takes place during when Loki was taken by the Avengers in the first movie while he was trying to rule the world, and his one weakness (and the only way to get any info out of him) is his love for the Avenger reader (female), who has telekinetic / mind reading powers. One of the Avengers / agents realizes the reader is his only weakness and they threaten to torture her if he doesn’t speak?

A/N: Thank you darling! So I have changed something about this imagine slightly. I don’t think the Avengers would threaten to torture or actually torture one of their own or an innocent person. I don’t think they’d torture anyone actually. Maybe besides Nat. Anyway, so the reader (an Avenger with telekinetic powers only upon touching) offers to “pretend to be tortured”. I also did not make a loki x reader, I am sorry. I just did so many already! *_* 

Warnings: Language and that is all. A full on PG-13 thing from yours truly. 

*gif not mine

(tags at the end)

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He had been captured after all the death and darkness he had spread in the city of New York. He was locked within the glass globe, staring unrelentingly at the emptiness with a blank stare. They had figured out the weakness that could tear him apart; that could drive his soul to obliterating madness. They had seen the picture, that he had hid between the folds of his coat. Them, those stupid Avengers, had seen the face that could make him crumble to his knees. 

Now there she sat, wrists tied behind her back, a gag keeping her screams locked in her throat. Her beautiful face was pulled down in fear, her beautiful brown eyes brimmed with tears. She was reaching out to him, without even knowing that she could turn his black heart to gold. She was silently begging for him to cooperate. 

Or those fucking Avengers would hurt her. 

“Loki,” Tony said, making the God of Mischief roll his eyes. “Tell us how to stop the army of Chitauri.” 

Loki’s emerald gaze returned to the girl sitting on the chair, her eyes wide and glistening, her mouth trying to speak. 

“I want to speak to her,” Loki mumbled. 

“That’s out of the question,” Steve Rogers grumbled, stepping in front of the girl. 

“My only request is to speak with her,” Loki spat, “or you will get nothing from me.” 

Tony and Cap shared a look, while Loki’s eyes searched the girl’s expression. She was in obvious pain, her chest heaving, the black fabric of her shirt glistening with tears. She had always been a beauty to his eyes, a literal goddess. Ever since he had lay eyes on her on his first visit to Midgard, he had not been able to free his mind of her. 

She was his weakness, his antidote to darkness. 

“He doesn’t have his scepter,” Cap mumbled. Then he whispered something into Tony’s ear, making the latter nod in agreement. 

“We will let you speak with her,” Tony announced. “But if you try one thing, we will make both of you fly.” Cap flipped the lid of the switch for emphasis.

He knew that even if they made both of them fly, he could still protect her. But he didn’t want to die without having kissed her, or without having heard her laugh for the first time. 

Loki nodded swiftly, almost impatient to hear the sound of her voice directed to him. Cap liberated the girl from her bonds, sliding the gag from her mouth. She whined, massaging her raw wrists as she got to her feet on trembling legs. The door to Loki’s cage opened in a hiss, her brown locks shifting over her shoulders with the wind. 

Loki got to his own feet, resisting the urge to reach out. She walked in slowly, her boots scuffing the metal floor. Her eyes were glue to his, making his stomach squeeze. 

“Did they hurt you?” he whispered. Her tears spilled over her cheeks, lonesome tears clinging to her jaw. 

“No,” she answered, the sound of her voice making something inside of him break. 

“I’m sorry for the distress they have put you through,” he said, searching her gaze for anything he could hold on to. She got closer, walking until she stood at arms length away. She was looking at him with such conviction and desolation, her brows pulled upwards, her lips trembling. 

“I’ve see you before,” she whispered. “You’ve been watching me.”

He swallowed harshly, knowing his predatory instincts could make her scared of him. He knew that he was obsessed, that his desire to be with her had toppled over until he was sitting at the edge of her window. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, bowing his head. 

The softness of her fingertips on the inside of his palm made shivers slice down the length of his body. Sparks erupted on his flesh, his eyes finding the beautiful color of hers. She gave him the softest of smiles, her wondrous mouth opening to reveal her pearly whites. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered. Loki leaned in slowly, as not to frighten her, and let his forehead rest against her. She was still letting her hand hand loosely in his, her forehead resting against his, her breathing soft against his mouth. He could feel something pulling at the back of his mind, as if someone was filing through his memories. He knew she was telekinetic upon touch, which made him smile that she was searching for memories of her within his mind. 

“I don’t want to frighten you,” he said. She shook her head, both hands coming to rest on his cheeks, watching the desperation in his eyes. 

“You haven’t frightened me, Loki,” she said, smiling as if the world had been handed to him. “You’ve given me exactly what I wanted.” 

He frowned at the harsh tone her voice had taken. He ripped his hand out of hers, leaning back to admire the serious look her eyes had taken. Her smile had faltered, her orbs emitting something close to indifference. 

“What?” he breathed. 

She turned on her heals. Loki felt like he had been stabbed straight through his charcoal heart, the blade twisting the further she walked away from him. Then she walked straight up to Tony and turned her glare back to Loki, smiling so devilishly he found himself staring at his own reflection. 

“If you stop the mother ship, which is hanging right above our atmosphere in another dimension, all the Chitauri will drop,” she said, loud enough for Loki to hear. 

His mouth dropped and right before he was going to lunge right at her, the glass door shut and he was left banging his fists against the glass.

He had chosen someone as dark as him. Her soul sheltered as many demons as the God of Mischief, her eyes adorning such atrocious malice that he found himself stunned. She was exactly like him; cunning and malicious. His weakness had been a woman with as much darkness in her soul as him. 

He could see it, as she smiled back him. He could see it in the way her eyes adorned indifference as he banged his fists bloody onto the glass. She had ripped his soul in half, tore him down to his knees, made the darkness in his heart melt into utter sadness. All those things she had done by giving him a taste of his own medicine. 

He screamed her name as they all walked out of the room. The plan was clear to him. She had reflected his own cunning acting against him, won his trust, and given everything away to his enemies. 

There was blood on the glass and pain in his heart. The blade had sunken deep, bringing him to his knees, calling out her name in vain. 

His girl.  His love and his weakness. His beauty that had taken over his mind. She had ruined him.

#imagine loki #loki imagine #loki x ofc #loki oneshot #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction