#they’re all a band of weirdos

[verdantstorms]

EXU Trio Header Images

#Fearne’s turned out so pretty #they’re all a band of weirdos #can you tell I miss them #critical role #critical role campaign 3 #campaign 3 #critical role c3 #orym of the air ashari #dorian storm #verdant storms #cr exu #exu orym #exandria unlimited #exu #dorym #exu dorian #exu fearne #fearne calloway #critical role aesthetic

[mahkari]

maybe i just don’t get it because im nor a proshitter or an ao3 addict but if you’re freaking out because there’s someone potentially joining the board who can go ‘maybe we should take down the weird incest , pedophilia , etc. and make the website better’ and THAT freaks you out . idk . die i guess

#kari rambles #i like fanfic . im glad there’s a site for fanfic writers to host their writings #there’s some fanfic ive read that could quite literally be books they’re gorgeously written . love them to death #but since all of you are such hard working adults why don’t you all just band together and make your own fanfic website #you weirdos .

[sweetcreaturetm]

I wish there was more nurse Steve.

Like Steve in nursing school doing clinicals and he does a round in the ED. And his first shift he gets this weirdo who has to have one of his rings cut off his finger cause he bet his buddy that his rings wouldn’t bend under the wheels of his van. He’s honestly lucky none of his bones are broken. Steve’s kind of just in the background since he’s just doing clinicals but the guy keeps looking at him for comfort while the doctors are setting up all the stuff to cut the ring. Steve can tell he’s a little scared so he goes to stand on his other side to distract him.

“So- uhhh” Steve checks the chart “Mr. Munson do you usually go around running over various body parts?”

Eddie smiles widely at him “it’s Eddie, and no. But uh” he shares a sneaky look with Steve and lowers his voice like they’re conspiring together “I was a little… shall we say elevated”

Steve literally giggles “I knew it smelled a little funkier than usual” he winks.

“What can I say I’m a funky guy-“ Eddie gets cut off by the small saw the doctors are aiming at his hand. Steve can tell he’s about to freak out he sees him start to pull his hand away.

He puts his hand on Eddie’s other arm and brings his attention back to him. He glances down at his guitar pick necklace. “Do you play the guitar?” He asks his hand never leaves Eddie’s arm. And that gets Eddie distracted going on and on about his sweetheart and his band and how they play at a place called the hideout and Steve listens intently. Steve’s more than kind of mesmerized by him.

Before either of them realize the ring is off. The charge nurse asks Steve to finish wrapping Eddie’s fingers and discharge him. Steve goes about getting the gauze and other supplies while still listening to Eddie now he’s talking about D&D something Steve knew more about than he wished thanks to Dustin.

He interrupts Eddie “Okay so I’m gonna put this ointment on just for some relief the saw blade didn’t cut you but it got a little hot for your skin so you might feel a little discomfort. Then I’ll wrap it up. Try to keep an eye if it starts to hurt worse or you have a reaction. I can sneak you some of this it works wonders” he starts to clean the tray off but Eddie stops him with his hand over Steve’s own.

“Do you think I could have my ring back?” He asks sheepishly.

“Oh yeah! Of course sorry I wasn’t thinking” Steve’s a little embarrassed of course he wanted his ring he probably didn’t even care about the stupid ointment. He puts the ring in a little plastic cup they use for pills. Unfortunately they had to cut it a few times so there’s some small bits of the band that are in pieces.

After Eddie signs all the paperwork he gives Steve a little bow in thanks “you probably couldn’t tell since I was being so brave” Eddie says. Steve giggles at that. “But I am a tad frightened of hospitals and stuff. So thanks for being so nice to me. And distracting me when they tried to saw my finger off”

“They would not saw your finger off!” Steve laughs even harder. “It was nice talking to you.” He gives Eddie a hopefully flirty smile.

“Whatever you say, Stevie” Eddie says after he glances down at Steve’s temporary badge. “But hey if it was so nice maybe you can come check out our next show after my fingers are fully recovered” he waggles said fingers but then winces and stops.

Steve reaches out for his injured hand and holds it and says “that actually sounds really nice. But I literally have no time out of school and clinicals.”

“Well maybe I’ll just have to find another way to injure myself to see you again” Eddie says getting bolder.

Steve looks deep into his eyes. He glances down at Eddie’s lips god he wishes he wasn’t literally working right now. “What if you didn’t hurt yourself again and I give you my number and you can come by when I get off my shift.”

Eddie considers for a second and hands Steve his own phone so Steve can put his number in. “That sounds doable” he leans close to Steve’s ear as he gathers his jacket to walk out of the curtained off area and then whispers “just like you” he winks over his shoulder at a gaping Steve.

When Eddie pulls out his phone after getting to the van he sees the newest contact in his phone “Stevie” with a little stethoscope emoji next to it. He sends Steve a quick text so he’ll be able to text him when he’s off.

Finally Steve takes a break and checks his phone he’s been dying to check it since Eddie left he has a text from an unknown number “Guess who *guitar emoji* *ring emoji*” Steve cannot stop grinning the rest of his shift.

#this started as a post about wanting more nurse Steve #then it didn’t stop #still think I need more cause I think it fits him so well #mean girl turned nurse #I mean that is Steve #I know he’s a reformed mean girl but still #nurse Steve #steddie #steddie ficlet #my writing #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #over use of emojis in text

[littleredwing89]

FAMOUS - PART ONE

Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader

Warnings: Language. Mentions of death threats.

A/N: So part one is finally here!!! Woohoo!!! Enjoy all. More to come soon xoxo much love xoxo @offendedfishnoises thanks again for all of your help with this - all the love xoxo

————

DEATH SHALL FIND YOU

————

The Gotham Sirens.

You never imagined that this would happen to you. Not in a million years. The group had taken off almost instantly and you’d become world famous. You stared up at the stage, the neon blue of your band's name glowing. Several technicians ran past you and smiled, altering the mic stands and taping down the wires so no one would fall. You loved the hustle and bustle just before the performance. Even standing on that stage in front of millions of people, nothing made your soul buzz like the beginning set up of a show.

You, Selina, Ivy and Harley had met at Gotham University majoring in Dance and Music. At first it had been nothing more than just a class assignment. Create a song. But Harley uploaded it onto Instagram and it blew up the internet. The next thing you knew, Mr Roman Sionis - headhunter for Dent Sounds Record Label - himself had arranged a meeting with the four of you.

And well, as they say, the rest was history. That was over 3 years ago now. It had been a complete blur. You were still catching up. You were no longer having to scrimp and save for cash. No. Now, now you had everything. Everything you’d ever dreamed of. Everything but your privacy. Especially after the meeting this morning with Roman.

——

“You’re not being serious are you?”.

You looked into the mirror whilst the make up artist finished off your eyelashes. Your manager, Roman, stood behind you with his arms crossed. A stern look stitched onto his face.

“Of course I am”, he huffed and his stare burned into you, “You’ve received another death threat and someone tried to break into your condo last month. You need more security. Something more personal”.

You rolled your eyes and the make up artist scolded you by smacking her brush on your wrist. You grinned cheekily at her before resting back in your chair, putting on your sickliest, sweetest voice, “Romy…”.

Your little nickname for him. It worked every time. He’d never allow anyone else to call him that. Just you.

“No”, he growled, “This is my final decision. You’re getting a personal bodyguard. I don’t want to find you chopped into tiny pieces”.

“How come Ivy doesn’t have to have one? Or Selina...even Harley doesn’t! So why me?”.

You didn’t need a bodyguard. You knew the second you got one, you would be kissing your freedom goodbye. They’d be with you 24/7. Your apartment would be shared. You wouldn’t even be able to sneak off to McDonalds for a McFlurry at 3am without having to confirm it with them. Or even worse, have them go with you.

“They haven’t had any psychotic stalkers”, Roman rested against the wall, sighing deeply, “yet”.

You scowled and refused to meet his eyes in the mirror. This was a complete over reaction.

“Look, I know you’re not happy but this goes way over my head. Mr Dent, the CEO—insisted. And to be honest Y/N, I think it’s a good idea. You girls are only getting more popular and that means more weirdos will crawl out of the woodwork”.

“Romy…”, you tried once more, turning to him and fluttering your dark, thick lashes at him, “Can’t you talk to Mr Dent?”.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, the muscles in his forearms contracting. You noticed the dark shadows under his eyes and silently wondered when he last got a good night's sleep.

“I’m sorry”, he muttered, “But I agree with Harv on this one, I’ve already been in touch with a firm. They’re highly recommended…you’ll meet them tomorrow”.

He turned quickly and strode out of the changing room as his phone rang, ending the conversation abruptly. You could hear his booming voice bouncing down the corridor and you glared at yourself in the mirror.

Fucking perfect.

————

Dumping a wad of paperwork down onto the desk, Jason sighed and took a long sip of his coffee. He knew high profile clientele came with difficulty but the stack of paperwork Sionis had sent him was nothing short of ridiculous. They even wanted to know where he’d bought his new leather jacket from last month.

“Alright?”, Roy sauntered over with his own coffee cup shuffling some of the papers. He was awfully chipper this early in the morning. Jason hummed in response and grabbed a pen from the side beginning to fill in the required forms.

He’d started this business with Roy a few years ago. Dropping out of university was tough but it wasn’t for him. Jason remembered worrying about telling Bruce. What his family would think of him but they showed him nothing but support. Unconditional love. They’d both managed, with countless hours, to build ‘Outlaws Security’, into the most successful security firm in Gotham.

Roy’s eyebrows lifted upon seeing a photo of the new client, “Isn’t that the chick you had on your wall at uni?”.

“What? No!”, Jason bristled and shoved the photo of you back under the documents. He inwardly cursed. Fucking Roy.

“So, you're saying that if I look inside your office locker, I won't find a poster of her?”.

Jason heard the cocky smirk on Roy’s face and groaned in irritation running a hand over the front of his face, “Touch my locker and I’ll break your legs”.

Roy cackled loudly and sat on the edge of Jason’s desk, “Ok so you do still have it. Better not let her find it”.

“You’re a real jackass you know”.

“So I’ve heard...maybe she’ll sign it for you if you ask nicely”, Roy continued to mock Jason, making kissy faces at him.

“Why don’t you shut your mouth before I shut it for you”, Jason scowled and turned his chair around pretending to look for some files in the cabinet behind him. Hoping Roy would get the hint and leave him alone.

“This must be like your dream job come true, pretty boy—better not screw it up”.

Jason sighed deeply and threw his head back in exasperation, “I need a new best friend”.

Roy gasped dramatically and held a hand over his heart, “What?! You love me and you know it!”.

“Whoever told you that was lying”.

————

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader insert #red hood imagine #jason todd fanfiction #red hood smut #red hood x reader insert #red hood fanfiction #Jason Todd x you #red hood x you #bodyguard!jason todd x reader #bodyguard!jason todd x singer!reader

[alwaysonf1]

beauty and brains?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning: Mild Language.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: N/A

Though the game the night before had them arriving at their hotels late production had them up at what felt like the ass crack of dawn.

Charles fought for his life to wake up and was happy he’d thought through pre-ordering room service because it arrived not long after his shower. He ate his food in silence, sleep still clinging to him and the coffee they sent not doing much to help bring him back to life. A late night didn’t usually do this to him, but he thought maybe despite his early arrival to Louisiana the jet lag may still have gotten to him.

He tosses the covering for his breakfast back onto the plate and sits back on the couch. His phone vibrates and though he’s half asleep and wanting to stay that way he picks it up, barely noticing it’s a call before he puts the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he asks, voice cracking.

“Hello?” Daniel mimics. “Open your door.”

If Charles had it in him, he’d roll his eyes, but he hangs up and pulls himself off the couch with a groan. He undoes the locks and the door swings open, nearly knocking him over as the three men walk into his room like it’s their own space.

Daniel takes his spot on the couch while Carlos and Alex take the other two. Charles gives them all a look, but besides Alex, who looks sheepish, they look as if they’ve done nothing wrong at all. It’s a losing battle, so he sighs and plops down into the love seat perpendicular to the couch.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

Carlos shrugs. “We were up and restless, thought we’d come here and wake you up if you weren’t.”

“Well, I’m awake.”

“And we’re bored,” Alex says.

A second eye roll in what has been less than two minutes. He enjoys spending time with these guys, more so with how much closer they’ve become due to filming. But they were also annoying in the way friends could be.

“You cannot entertain yourselves?”

“We can, but we were talking, and we know you’re still as mind blown by this as the rest of us. Who knew Lewis had a secret sibling,” Daniel says.

Carlos nods. “And that she’s American.”

All of them nod in agreement, because even if that isn’t at the forefront of Charles’ mind it is something that they couldn’t have seen coming. They got to speak to her a little after the game before she was whisked off elsewhere and her accent threw him off. It wasn’t the one you default to for Americans, but it was clear that it belonged to some section of this country. Her mother’s was the same, which is why it was a little silly that they weren’t prepared to hear it come out of her.

To be fair to them there was a lot to keep up with this.

“Yeah, that shouldn’t have been a shock. But hey, there was a lot going on. That dancing though, it’s like things I’ve seen before, but not. Ya know? I asked Lewis and he said they’re called majorettes. I looked it up last night and it’s almost always this good. Especially since little Hamilton became captain, people sing her praises. There’s one that has millions of views on twitter alone. I’ll send it later.”

The others speak amongst themselves, and Charles feels his mind wander off. He thinks about how confusing and brilliant last night was. Every part of it. He’d never watched American football on a college level, and it was as entertaining as at a professional level. Then the band was in peak form. It got his brain working on music again in a way it hadn’t in a while. And of course, the dancing. If that was what the majorettes had to offer, then he was eager to see what else they had going on. 

“I’m a little surprised that’s how they decided to let us meet her. Lewis seems to be the protective type and that could have gone either way,” Carlos says.

“He trusts us not to be weirdos, even if he didn’t, we wouldn’t have been stupid enough to say anything on camera for everyone to see. You know F1 will put out anything, even if they have to apologize for it later,” Charles says.

Daniel snatches a bottle of water from the table and nods. “Plus, I’ve seen that man win multiple championships and I have never seen him prouder and happier than that. He clearly supports her and would want to showcase her talent.”

“True, but I wonder what that means for today. I’m guessing it’ll be something school related. If they have me do school work under pressure,” Alex says.

“Like Carlos when he forgot that he should be able to drive an F2 car.”

“Hey!”

They all descend into laughter, while Carlos glares at them, arms crossed, and eyes clearly showing he’s not here. Probably imagining how he panicked himself so much it was like someone asked him to drive Nascar.

A knock on the door puts a stop to the laughter and without a word they all gather their stuff and head toward it. Their main producer, Anne, is there and she looks worried. Then she notices the number of people and Charles watches her relax.

“Time to load into the van, everyone.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Daniel says.

They head out of the room, and with the weird speed of the elevator, are in the lobby in less than a minute. Lewis and Lance are huddled together laughing and some of the production crew linger around talking in groups. When everyone sees them, they head out to the vans awaiting them. 

When they get in Daniel and Lewis take the first row of seats while Alex takes the front and the other three in the back. The moment the seat belts click the cars are moving and Charles watches Daniel lean over to Lewis with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Any clues?”

Lewis looks contemplative and then he laughs.

“Hm… prepare to feel dumb.”

Daniel laughs. “So regular day at work?”

“You have no idea.”

From there it’s silence, but the kind where you can tell everyone is still a little tired. All their starter energy exerted, so now they need a moment.

It’s being tired and wanting to prepare himself for Charles. He went in yesterday with so little and he knows it showed, but he wants it to be a little different this time. There can be shock, but he doesn’t want to seem like anything they do and what she’s there to show them is something he didn’t expect of her. He’d hate to seem like he has any preconceived ideas of who she is. People who don’t like him would latch onto that and misinterpret, and there’s a possibility Lewis might too, but mostly he doesn’t want to offend. 

After twenty minutes of mindless scrolling, they pull up to a building. From their surroundings it’s clear that this isn’t where they should park, but it’s clearly been made so that if one needs to it can. 

Everyone piles out of the vehicle. And despite being the one who should get up first of the three, his friends are children who push him down and get out before him. Charles is on his third eye roll of the morning and the last to get out. And just as he does Iman emerges from the building and stands at the top of the steps with a smile. Today she’s in utility pants and a shirt that has a familiar emblem on it. 

“You're late,” she shouts.

“You told me eight, it's seven forty-five,” Lewis yells back.

“True, but I’ve had a man in here squealing about meeting a seven time champion and multiple F1 drivers. Have mercy on a girl who was forced to take an eight a.m. in her last semester will you?”

Everyone laughs at that, and they walk up the stairs toward her. She waits and then turns toward the building, but she pauses and turns around to face them.

“Where are my manners?” she asks, then points at Lewis, “And yours.”

“What did I do?”

She rolls her eyes and turns toward the other five drivers with a smile that makes Charles give her one of his. 

“I know all of you know my name and I yours, plus we kind of met last night, but let me properly introduce myself. I’m Iman Hamilton, little sister of this dweeb, captain of the SU Dancing Dolls, and a college student on her last semester close to losing her mind.”

She steps toward Carlos, hand out, and she shakes his. He gives a small greeting, and she goes down the line to each of them doing that. As Charles takes her hand, he notes her hands are soft, but the shake is firm.

“I’m Charles, it’s wonderful to meet you.”

“You as well.”

She also greets all the staff individually and then retakes her position in front of the door.

“Are y’all prepared for the horrors and wonders of an eight a.m. hands on class?” Her voice is fake cheery, and it makes Charles and Daniel laugh.

“Speaking of what would this class be?”

Iman throws her head back and laughs, then glances toward Lewis. “He is smooth.”

“Don’t let him get you.”

“Ooh, they talked about me,” Daniel jokes.

That sends laughter through everyone, and it lifts a weight that Charles didn’t realize was there. He was a little nervous, but he couldn’t understand why. But at least he could feel with the shift in everyone that it was a mutual feeling.

Without another word Iman turns and pulls the door open. Charles ensures he’s in after Lewis and catches a glimpse of someone rocketing back into a classroom. It must be the man that Iman was talking about. The excitement is flattering.

As they walk down everyone, especially the cameras, take in the space. There are pictures and many didn’t contraptions lining the walls. Probably as a representation of what goes on in this building. There was a sign on top of it, but it was too high to see where they parked. So, Charles looks up at the wall at the end of the hall and there he sees: School of Mechanical Engineering.

His eyes go wide unintentionally, but he reins it in and nudges Carlos. It takes a moment before the Spaniard sees what he does, and his reaction is very much the same. The others have already seen the sign and they look from the sign to the woman leading them and back. 

The smile that forms on Charles’ face reflects the pride he feels. Of course, he knows what it’s like to be happy and proud of his siblings' success in their fields, but in that moment, he understands why Lewis feels it. He understood last night, but when his mechanics and friends spoke about how engineering as a degree takes a lot out of you, he was sure. They spoke of sometimes struggling with it and normal life, so he couldn’t imagine an extracurricular that was probably as consuming.

The feeling dumb was definitely already starting.

When they reach the door to her class it’s wide open and in the center of the only space without tables stands a man old enough to be a teacher and students in similar clothing to Iman. Most seem giddy, some seem mildly interested, and there are one or two that look like they don’t care at all. Good for the ego.

Iman leads them to the center, standing directly across from her class and the drivers so she’s facing neither. Her hands go wide, gesturing to either group.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet drivers currently a part of the F1 grid. F1 drivers, welcome to Advanced Internal Combustion Engines. We’ll be here for three hours, so I’ll leave the more personal introductions to you.”

She pauses and there’s a chorus of greetings that come from both sides. Charles watches as her lips part to presumably say something else, but then the man who is obviously the instructor takes center stage with a giddy smile. It’s a little amusing, but mostly nice to see him so excited about this. Worry about how roping siblings in this would disrupt their lives, even for a short time, has been a thing since the beginning. Especially when they may not have people to work for or with that would love this kind of thing.

“It’s nice to meet all of you. My name is Dr. Malcolm Johsnon. I’m a big enjoyer of F1 and racing in general, just as many of the students in this class are. My industry background is predominantly in IndyCar, which is why this class focuses a lot on the types of engines used in those kinds of race vehicles. Today as much as you’ll be getting a peak at Iman’s life, you’ll see what the students learn here and a glimpse at the parts that make your cars go. I’m open to any questions you might have at any time. 

Alex raises his hand. “Oh, if you worked or work for IndyCar, how did you end up teaching? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind at all.” He hitches a thumb in Iman’s direction, “Her mother can be very persuasive. She’d also taken a stint teaching as a break from working with IndyCar teams, so she had much to rave about. Plus, she wanted me here to make sure they taught her child right.”

That earns a few laughs, but Charles sees the odd look from a few students who are displeased but already knew this knowledge. Though it doesn’t feel like they’re displeased with their instructor, just Iman. An expected response to someone who uses the connections she has or in this case the connection just stepped in for her.

Which makes Charles pause. Wait, did he say Sherri?

“Your mother works in IndyCar?” he asks, his eyes on Iman.

“Has since before I was born. Racing is a family affair. Though more of us are on the engineering side than in the driver seat.”

When she says it, a fist extends out toward her from the corner of Charles’ eye and she bumps her fist against Lewis, smiling wide and winking at her older brother.

“But enough of that, though we’ve all agreed to this we still have a project to work on. And surprisingly multiple three hour classes aren’t enough time.”

There are several mutters in agreement and with that students disperse to the tables scattered throughout the massive room. Iman goes to one in the back with three other people. They get to work without a word and production and Dr. Johnson step closer to the drivers, forming a circle.

“Our focus is Iman and her life and what she does, but we don’t want all of you to just crowd her. As much as we want shots of what she’s doing and your interaction, we want this to be a learning experience just like the other times were. Engage with the other students without crossing any boundaries and maybe even see if any of that knowledge you get from your own mechanics is familiar here, okay? We’ll move you guys if we feel you linger here or there too long, but just go where you feel pulled. Also, there are some students who have little flags attached to their tables to signal they are most comfortable with questions, so look out for those but don’t shy away too much from the others. Got it?” Anne asks.

Everyone nods. She then gestures for Dr. Johnson to take the floor.

“And things get a little hectic, so over there is some PPE for y’all to use. I want this to be safe for them and for you. Cool?”

“Yes, sir,” Lewis says, and identical sentiments follow.

“Then let’s get started!”

Lewis is the first to break off and head toward the table. He grabs the goggles, a dingy rag, some sort of apron, and a pair of gloves and then makes a beeline for Iman’s table. Lance follows suit and that makes the first decision for everyone else. Charles sticks with Carlos as they grab their PPE and then head toward the closest table. There is a flag over it, but neither of the men say anything. They watch as one of the students takes apart their engine. It looks around the size of the ones inside of their cars, but something is different about it. Something off.

“Wait, did you grab the wrong piece?” A man, whose shirt has the name Stephen on it, asks.

Everyone pauses and looks to him and then to the engine.

“Uh, I don’t think s… Oh for fuck’s sake,” says the woman, Jennifer.

The curse is said so softly that almost all of them have to stop themselves from laughing, Charles has to cover his mouth and Carlos turns away, but you can see his body vibrating with silent laughter. Jennifer catches all of them and glares before walking off toward what looks like a storage space at the back of the room.

When shes out of sight they all laugh out loud. It takes a minute to pull it together, but they manage it.

Stephen turns to Charles. “You noticed it too? I saw you looking at it weird.”

This isn’t really his wheelhouse, so Charles feels himself get a little unsure of how to answer, but he reminds himself that these are students, and they expect some sort of failure when learning so even if he sounded silly it wasn’t like they’d look at him too harshly. At least he hopes.

“Um, yes. It looks like the one we use, I’ve seen it a few times and though it may not be the same, something about it didn’t seem right. Though I’m not fully sure what.”

Stephen nods.

“It’s definitely something that would stand out if you’ve seen them enough. It’s why she’s mad, she’ll usually catch it when we do it. But if ya want we can walk y’all through it. This is just us kind of playing around with ideas at this point, so we have the time.”

Charles finds himself excited again and he takes a few steps closer to the table.

“We’d love that. It’ll impress and confuse our mechanics if we come back knowing more than we did before,” Carlos says.

All the others introduce themselves and when Jennifer returns, they dive deep into what they’re trying to do. Though they only planned to half take it apart they disassemble it completely and get Carlos and Charles in on putting it back together. How they explain it is half dumbed down and half with the understanding that the pilots would have some knowledge of what they’re doing. Though everyone else has rotated, an hour passes before a producer pulls them away from the table. It’s with a little grumbling from both of them, but they get why.

The rest of their adventure is much the same, though for shorter bursts. Even the tables without the flags are more than open to answering questions they may have and as time goes by Charles realizes that with each table, he’s able to understand what the hell they’re talking about. And it makes him think back to all the times he’s been confused listening to his mechanics about a million things. It’s all clicking for him.

“Hey Sharl!” 

The voice startles him, and he turns toward it to see Lewis back at his sister’s table. The man is waving him over so Charles excuses himself and walks over. Daniel is making the table he’s at laugh at something and it’s probably some off the wall joke that sometimes has Charles looking at him like he’s lost it.

“Hi,” he says once he reaches the table.

“Hey. Saw you haven’t been here yet,” Lewis says.

“It was the next stop.”

“Mhm.” When Lewis says that there’s a look in his eyes that Charles can’t quite decipher so he doesn’t try to. He’s used to him keeping things a little close to the chest.

“Are you harassing that poor man, Lew?” Iman asks, without looking up.

“I’m not doing anything?” 

“Mhm, sure you’re not.”

“I’m not! Tell her I’m not harassing you, Sharl.”

Charles finds himself laughing at the two. It’s like something he and his brother’s would do. High pitched voice while defending themselves and all.

“He’s not harassing me. I promise,” he says.

Iman finally looks up, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

“You sure you’re not just taking up for him, Charles? He’s not that big and bad, I promise.”

“I’m sure.”

“Let me know if he does, I’ll deal with him.” 

She winks at Charles and then gets back to her work, explaining why she felt the need to lubricate a piece more than is usually called for. Her partners look unsure, but they go with it. As she does it, she explains out loud what it should do to the two pilots and Charles is having a hard time splitting between Lewis’ pouting - which is losing steam by the second - what she’s explaining and watching her. She’s so focused and even when the piece gives her problems she keeps going, barely getting frustrated. 

And when she works, her smile is genuine and bright. 

#charles leclerc x black reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #formula one x black reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fan fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fan fiction #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #charles leclerc x oc

[morganbritton132]

I just read your post about Steve and Eddie taking hobby classes together and I love the idea of a big famous rockstar taking a paint n sip class and these moms going “…. Is that??? No??? I’m pretty sure that’s Eddie munson. My kid loves his band” and Eddie interacting with moms who want to FaceTime their kid cause they met someone famous. Because you know some moms have no shame when they meet someone their kids love

The first time they went to one of these classes, Eddie tried to do the whole low-key celebrity thing and wear a hoodie and a baseball cap. Steve took one look at him and was just like, “What are you doing? You look like someone’s stalker. No one is going to recognize you, you weirdo.”

But Steve is wrong.

It’s not just people recognizing him from the band their kid likes. Corroded Coffin was very popular in the nineties. There are people in this class that had posters of Eddie Munson on their bedroom walls when they were teenagers, and they insist on getting their picture taken with him too.

Eddie plays along, of course, because he doesn’t really get a choice unless he wants this whole five-week course of classes to be super awkward. He even says hi to some kid on FaceTime who doesn’t even know who he is because his mom confused Corroded Coffin with the Counting Crows somehow.

These things are fine.

Steve typically finds things like this amusing because he knows that Eddie secretly loves it, but that stops immediately the moment the woman across the table from them heavily implies that Eddie is on her and her husband’s list. Her name is Stephanie. She’s a part of a little gal’s night out group, has lipstick on her teeth, and a little too much wine in her, leans closer and stage whispers, “You know, the list that married couples have.”

“Interesting, interesting,” Eddie hums, humoring her. “Am I in good company on this list?”

Steve watches this conversation play out and decides that he doesn’t like Stephanie’s flirty tone or the fact that Eddie hasn’t just shut her down because he is married. And also gay. He’s gay too. It’s not like Steve feels threatened by a literal non-existent possibility, you know.

Just – have some respect for the man’s wedding ring, right?

She leans across the table to tap Eddie’s arm at some joke he made and Steve is so distracted by this that he accidentally knocks over one of the water cups when he goes to clean his brush. The water splashes across the table and nearly gets Stephanie’s shoes, but she moves away.

“Shit,” Steve says, “Sorry. I – shit. Let me help you.”

Luckily no one’s canvases got ruined since they’re all propped up on little easels and Steve helps mop the water up off the table and floor where Stephanie is working. He almost forgets about her flirting with his husband until she tells Eddie, “Your friend is so sweet, isn’t he?”

Steve tosses his wet paper towels in the trash and points to Stephanie’s smudgy painting of one of the clown figurines on the table, and says, “Wow, your art is amazing. I wish I could paint a self portrait like that.” 

#Steve is *~*petty*~* and Eddie loves it #otherwise he would’ve put a stop to the flirting a long time ago #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[writersbarrierblock]

Right Next Door.

gif not mine

pairing: Kim Pine x GenderNeutral!Reader (uses they/them pronouns but also Wallace hits on you)

requested by kingcarlofconnecticut-blog. thanks for the request! lets go kim pine lovers.

word count: 2298

warnings: drinking and mentions of food, also mentions of overly competitive mario kart

summary: kim moves in at the apartment next to yours. you're shy, and she and her friends literally drag you out of your shell to compete in a drunk mario kart competition.

______________________________________________________

“Let us know if you need anything, sweetie!” Kim’s parents wave her goodbye from their car. The redhead gives a wave back, before turning back to the new building where her new apartment now lies. She needed a new scene, and living with her parents got really depressing as the year passed. She regarded the plus sides, with her new place being near to everyone else and work– no longer needing the long bus drive to and from home. 

Shatterband was still going on, to her and Scott’s surprise. She just really liked playing drums, and neither of them really cared if they sounded bad. They were broadening their horizons, well, as much as they could with only playing at Scott’s place and having his cat be their only audience. They’re now moving on from covers of songs from 60s bands to songs from 90s bands. “Very distinct advancement, Neil. You wouldn’t get it.” Kim recalls Scott telling their young friend. 

She walks up to the door of her apartment, the keys in her hand. Before she could unlock her door, the neighbor in the apartment next to her suddenly opens their door and heads out. They both lock eyes, and she sees the neighbor gulp. 

“Uh, hey. I just moved in.” Kim greets them. The neighbor just gives the drummer a nod, before quickly retreating back to their apartment. Kim gets a puzzled look on her face, chuckling slightly, before entering her own apartment. 

That was not one of your best moments. You were already late for work, waking up late in the morning. You sped through your apartment, getting ready, as you step out the door you just freeze. 

You had heard about someone new moving in in the apartment near yours. You didn’t expect her to be so cute. Freckles, red hair, a track jacket that hugged her like armor. You just couldn’t get a word out. You felt heat coming up to your cheeks, you were flustered, and you had no idea how to deal with it. You give her nod, and get right back in your apartment, leaning against the door. A few moments later, you hear the door to her place close, and you breathe out a sigh. 

You head out hesitantly, and speed to work. You can lament your lack of charisma later. 

*** 

The day ends uneventfully, and you start to head back home. You pass by a liquor store, and decide to get the new neighbor a bottle of wine to welcome her in the building. 

You get to her door, your hand raised ready to knock, but you hesitate. Uncertainty fills you. She probably thinks I’m a weirdo after this morning. You go back to your apartment and get a post-it note to leave on the bottle. You write a simple ‘Welcome to the neighborhood!’ and write down your apartment number, and stick it on the label. You leave the bottle to the side of the door, and then head back to yours. 

*** 

Kim has been unpacking everything out of their boxes the whole day. She’s somewhat not particular about how things are organized, but she keeps things neat. The living room and kitchen were somewhat done, and all the majority of the boxes left are in her bedroom. Her phone rings at the kitchen counter, and she stands up from the floor to get it. 

“Yeah?” She says, still looking around in her apartment. It was still something to get used to. 

“Hey, Kim. I heard you got a new place. How is it?” Ramona’s voice inquires, her curious voice sounds from the device. 

“It’s good, Rammy. Still adjusting,” Kim says, kicking an empty box. 

“Well, how about we have dinner there? Like, a housewarming thing.” She can hear Ramona’s smile in her tone. Kim lets out a sigh.

“Fine. But no Italian food. I’m still recovering from that monstrosity of pasta that Scott cooked up last week.” Kim says, teasingly. She hears a distant angry shout through the line, recognizing it as Scott’s. 

“It was one time! I didn’t get the right cheese!” She hears Ramona chuckle, and the two women say their goodbyes. 

Kim decides to speed up unpacking. Her bedroom closet gets filled, along with the wardrobes and the cabinets. By the time she’s done cleaning up all the empty boxes, there’s a knock on the door. 

She opens it in a flash, Scott and Ramona appearing with food and a bottle of wine. Kim looks at the beverage. “I thought you were more of a tequila girl, Rammy.” 

“Actually, we found this at your door. Looks like a neighbor wanted to welcome you in.” Ramona says, shrugging off her coat. Scott puts the food down on the kitchen table. “Making friends already, Kimberly?” Ramona teases. 

Kim gives her a look. “No. I can barely tolerate you guys,” She says, inspecting the bottle. “I think I saw them earlier. Acted uh, unusual.” 

Scott turns to her. “Like, creepy-murderer unusual or collects-locks-of-hair unusual?” 

Ramona pats him on the shoulder. “I think those are the same type of unusual.” 

“They weren’t creepy. I think I kinda spooked them, or something.” Kim says, unsure. “Well, who in the world would be scared of you?” Scott says, sarcastic and smiling. 

The redhead promptly smacks him on the head. 

*** 

You head out for work a little earlier the next day. You step out, and lock your door, and you don’t notice Kim doing the same at her door. 

“Hey,” she calls for your attention. You look at her, your hands freezing with your keys and the doorknob. “Thanks for the wine. I appreciated it.” 

You finish locking your door, and turn to her. You fiddle with your keys. “Oh, no problem. Welcome to the building.” You avoid her eyes, shyness overcoming you. 

She looks at you, eyes roaming over your form. “I’m Kim. I never caught your name.” 

You introduce yourself to her, holding your hand out for a handshake. She takes it, and gives you a small smile. 

You walk together to the elevator. As the doors close, she turns to you. “Where are you headed?” She asks. 

“Oh, uh, work. I work at this office building downtown.” You explain, nodding. “Sounds soul-sucking.” She comments, voice flat, and it makes you chuckle. “Oh, you have no idea.”

“Where, uh, where are you headed?” You ask, hands buried deep into the pockets of your work pants. 

“I’m heading to a friend’s. He’s always getting into something stupid.” Kim sighs, slightly complaining. You lightly chuckle. 

“Sounds like good company,” you mumble, slightly teasing. Kim looks at you, a small smile on her lips. “Yeah, he’s an idiot.” 

The elevator dings, and you both get out. You give her a wave of goodbye, and throughout the day you keep thinking about her small smile. 

*** 

When you get home that day, as you walk into the hallway, you hear loud laughing and voices in Kim’s apartment. Before you get to your door, her door suddenly opens. A man walks out looking slightly tipsy, still looking at someone inside the apartment. “I swear guys, the pizza is here- Oh.” His eyes land on you, blatantly checking you out with half-lidded eyes. “Hey stranger.” 

“Wallace! Get back here, you bitch.” Another male voice comes from the apartment. Kim walks to the door, spotting you. “Oh, hi.” She greets you. 

You give her a wave, ducking your head in shyness. “Kim, who is this?” The dark haired guy slurs his words slightly, leaning against the threshold of her door. 

“Wallace, this is my neighbor. Do not.” She looks him in the eyes, warning slightly. Another person came up to the door, a guy with light brown hair, and he looked even drunker than the other guy. “Oh hey! You’re the neighbor! Come in! We’re playing Mario Kart.” 

“Oh, uh,” you clear your throat, awkwardly leaning on the wall, “I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

The two men try to usher you inside Kim’s apartment, encouraging you. You look at Kim, and she gives you a small smile. “I mean, I don’t mind.” She says, suddenly looking away, a bit of red on her cheeks. 

The drunk men cheered and continued to drag you inside. You look around at her apartment, admiring the decor. You see the rest of Kim’s friends crowded around her TV, sitting on the couch and pillows on the floor. Chips, dips, soda cans, and solo cups cover the coffee table that was pushed to the side. 

“Everyone, this is Y/N, they live next door.” Kim introduces you. “That’s Wallace, Scott, Ramona, Knives, and Neil.” You wave at them, subtly ignoring Wallace’s extra flirtatious ‘hey’. 

Kim guides you to sit on the couch, and you give everyone a shy smile. You get handed a drink and a controller, and your eyes widen. 

“Let’s see what you got, cutie.” Wallace gives you a wink. You don’t see Kim silently seethe. 

*** 

Kim, as it turns out, is very competitive. As is almost everyone else in her friend group. 

You watch on in amusement and horror as every race ends in an argument, and you can only catch bits of pieces through the crescendo of madness. You take a sip of your drink, and you spot Ramona also shaking her head, laughing at the fights. 

Your eyes look at Kim, her eyebrows furrowed in anger and fists balled up on her sides. You smile, enjoying just getting to know things about her. You head to the kitchen, fixing yourself another drink. 

“And you can’t be mad that that glitch was patched. You can’t do anything about it!” 

“Rainbow Road was your idea!”

“That turtle shell has ruined all seven years of our friendship.”

At the corner of your eye, you see Kim now sitting near the coffee table, angrily munching on chips. You get a bottle of water and go over to her, sitting beside her. You offer her the water, and she takes it silently. 

She has a bit of salsa on her chin, and you chuckle. “What?” She asks, deadpan. You shake your head, and reach over to her, wiping the spot of red away from her face, and licking it off your thumb. 

She stares at you dumbfoundedly, before looking away, staring at something else. Her emotionless face is betrayed by the blush on her cheeks. 

***

A few more drinks later, and a lot of matches getting only 6th place, you admit to yourself that you’re kind of tipsy. You look at Kim with half lidded eyes, a dopey smile on your face as she wins a race. Her lips stretched into a wide grin of victory, arms raised in the air. 

You take another sip of your drink, and Wallace slides next to you. “Hey, Y/N. Do you think Mario Kart rocks or sucks?” You furrow your eyebrows, confused. You’ve been puzzled by Wallace’s advances all night. 

“It’s good, it’s good.” You mumble, taking another sip. He nods, and puts a hand on your shoulder. “That’s good.” 

Kim sees this and makes her way to you two. Your eyes brighten when you see her. “Hey, Kim.” You greet, “Great, uh party.” You say. 

The redhead says nothing, glaring at the hand on your shoulder. Wallace whistles, and backs away, his hands up in mock surrender. Luckily, Scott and Ramona call him over as they fight about which character to play is the best. 

Kim sits next to you, staring straight ahead of her. You turn to face her, smiling. “Hi,” you say, tipsy. She looks at your face, her eyes softening and darkening at the same time. 

She looks to her friends, then back to you, and suddenly pulls you up from the couch. You let out a low noise in surprise, the room suddenly spinning more than it did a few minutes ago. She apparently dragged you to her room, and set you down on the floor. She sits down right after you, on her knees with her hands on your shoulders so you’re both at the same eye level. She’s suddenly so close to your face, and you can’t help but look at her dazedly. 

“Are you as drunk as I am right now?” She asks, gripping your shoulders tightly. You nod dumbly, not really trusting your voice right now. 

She looks into your eyes, and then glances lower. She licks her lips, and your eyes drink in the movement. She suddenly surges forward, kissing you softly. Electricity hits you, and the soft contact shocks you and heats up your entire body. 

You lean into her, humming appreciatively at the feeling of her lips on yours. You put your arms around her, holding her by the waist. She inadvertently gets on top of you, her whole weight on your lap. 

The kiss deepens when you hear her moan. The sound puts you more in a trance, and you desperately try to make her make more sounds. You pull her closer to you, and her warmth perfectly consumes your senses. Everything else didn’t exist, and the world was only Kim. 

A sudden knock and the sound of someone barging in pulls you both away from each other. Heat rises to your cheeks, still a little out of it. You see Scott at the door, his eyes wide and jaw dropped. 

You look at Kim, and she’s giving Scott the deadliest glare you’ve ever seen her give. She suddenly gets up and starts chasing him. “Pilgrim! Get over here!” You hear a high-pitched scream of fear from the other room, and you don’t pay it mind. Your mind can’t wrap its head around the most amazing kiss you’ve had. You lay down on the floor with a contented sigh. 

#scott pilgrim imagines #scott pilgrim x reader #kim pine x reader #kim pine #kim pine x gn!reader

[justmystyles]

All or Nothing

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: you find a new way to tease Harry during a tour visit, and stumble upon a new way to drive him crazy.

warnings: smut, NSFW, if you're under 18 just don't.

a/n: @manrocket-mo sent me this video and asked me to write what he could possibly be reacting to. this is what I came up with. i don't know if it's really what you were looking for, and it kind of snowballed into something else, but i hope you enjoy it! thank you for thinking of me to write this, and i'm sorry it took me so long to get it finished.

i kind of envision this as part of the NYIML universe, so i guess you could say this is a one shot off of that series.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

“I’m going to go change, wanna go pick some music? My laptop should still be connected to the speakers.” You tell Harry as you hang your coat up and slide off your shoes.

Harry looks at you in shock. “You’re actually giving me unsupervised access to your music collection?” 

You had always been protective over your music collection, claiming you had a long list of guilty pleasures. Harry wanted desperately to know everything about you, including all of the music you enjoyed. He had gotten bits and pieces out of you, but he knew you were still holding back, so allowing him to go through your music library was a huge step in your relationship. 

You looked at him and shrugged with a soft smile. “I trust you, and I know you’re not going to judge me.” 

Harry stepped up to you, cupping your face in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss. “I would never. I know that this is a big step for you, and it means the world to me that you trust me.” He kisses you once more. “I love you.” 

You giggle against his lips. “I love you too, weirdo.” You moved into the bedroom to put on some sweats, and Harry picked up your laptop from the coffee table, taking a seat on the couch.

“A whole playlist of boy band music?!” You hear Harry exclaim from the other room. “I knew you were holding out on me!” You giggled to yourself, waiting for the inevitable reaction. “What the fuck?!” 

You saunter out to the living room and take a seat beside Harry, tucking your legs underneath you. “Something wrong, babe?” You kiss him on the cheek, knowing exactly what was wrong. 

“You have an entire playlist of boy band music, like several hours of music, and there isn’t even a single One Direction song.” 

“H, I told you, I never followed your band.” You try to wrap your arm around him but he dodges out of your grasp. You chuckle at his dramatic display. 

“But you’ve heard the songs now, you didn’t think a single one of them was worthy of your playlist?” You shrug in response as he scrolls through the songs. “O-TOWN? O-Town is on here but not One Direction?” 

At the mention of the early 2000’s group, you get a mischievous glint in your eye. “Oh yeah, O-Town is great! Best boy band to ever be assembled on a television show!” 

He arched a brow in your direction, knowing exactly what you were doing. “Excuse me?” 

Giving Harry a hard time is one of your favorite things to do. You know he’s just being dramatic for fun, if you were genuinely hurting his feelings, you would stop and add the entire One Direction discography to that playlist. But teasing was one of your shared love languages, it’s why your relationship worked so well. 

“Yeah, they’re awesome. And lyrical geniuses too!” You continue. 

“Did they even write their own songs?” He asked incredulously. 

“No,” Harry’s eyes went wide, throwing his hands in the air. “But they sang the shit out of those songs. It’s like a time capsule for late nineties early two thousands slang. Not to mention the boner references, and a whole ass song about wet dreams.” 

Harry throws his head back, sinking further into the couch. “Ugh… maybe you were right to keep your music to yourself.” He teases. 

You chuckle as you shift on the couch, moving to straddle his lap. “They have this one song,” you begin as you trail kisses across his jaw and down his neck. “It’s about a girl and she’s beautiful, like they think she’s soooo beautiful, but she’s shy. She has no idea how beautiful she is. She keeps blushing, and looking down, and they just want to tell her how beautiful she is. It’s quite lovely.” 

You feel Harry’s chest shake in laughter, causing you to smirk against his skin. “Now you’re just making shit up.” 

“Nope, I’m dead ass.” You assure him. “Want me to play it?” You lean back, looking in his eyes with a mischievous glint. “We could make out while we listen.” 

“No to the song,” He states firmly. “But I will take you up on making out.” He runs his hands up your thighs as he leans forward, capturing your lips. 

A few weeks later, you’re back on the road with Harry. You hadn’t brought up O-Town again, but that didn’t mean you’d forgotten about that night, and you had a special surprise planned for him. As usual, throughout the show Harry’s eyes would travel to you in the VIP area, in those moments, the thousands of fans would seemingly disappear and it was just Harry, pouring his heart out to you. 

You had been so lost in his performance that you had almost forgotten about the little surprise you had planned for him. As he starts hitting the final notes of Sign of the Times, you catch his eye winking suggestively to maintain his attention. He gives you a curious look as you grab the hem of your sweatshirt and begin to pull it over your head. 

Once you were able to see him again, you noticed the smirk on his face as he studied the t-shirt you had been hiding all day. It was a black shirt with five young men doing their best blue steel to the camera ‘O-Town’ scrawled above their heads. He chuckled some more, as he completed the song. 

When it was over, he was saying his goodbyes and waving to the crowd, locking eyes with you once again as you ran your hands through your hair, lifting it over your shoulders and turning around to display the back of the shirt, which had two more pictures of the group, as well as a list of cities listed at the bottom. You turned to look over your shoulder, immediately catching his cheeky smirk. 

He wagged his finger at you playfully. “You bad girl,” he spoke into the microphone as his finger continued to shake in your direction. You felt an exciting chill run through you at his words, looking forward to what the rest of your evening held.

You knocked gently on Harry’s dressing room door, he quickly called for you to enter. He greeted you with his arms crossed over his chest and his brow arched. 

“Great show babe!” You said cheerfully, skipping up to him and pecking his pursed lips. “Cheer up, grumpy Gus!” 

He continued to stare, and you could tell he was willing himself not to grin at you. “You,” he paused, taking a deep breath. You weren’t sure if it was for dramatic effect, or to stop himself from laughing. “Dared to come to my show wearing another band’s merch?” 

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. “Such a drama queen,” you bump your shoulder against his. “Come on, go change so we can go back to the hotel.” 

“Are you going to change too?” He deadpanned. 

You couldn’t help the smirk that took over, knowing what you had in store for him. “As soon as we get back. Promise.” He narrowed his eyes at you and moved into the bathroom to change.  

Despite his feigned annoyance, you spent the entire ride back to the hotel in Harry’s arms as he planted sporadic kisses on the top of your head. You held on to his free hand, playing with the rings that still adorned his fingers. Not much was said, your rides to the hotel were typically quiet. Harry liked to use that time to unwind from the chaos of being on stage. 

When you arrived back at the hotel, Harry dropped his bag at the door and plopped himself onto the couch. You followed him, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m going to go change into something a little more comfortable.” 

“Good,” he grunted, making you chuckle. 

“Meet me in bed?” He nodded and you moved into the bathroom. 

Once you had done your nightly skincare routine, and changed your clothes, you opened the bathroom door, leaning against the frame waiting for Harry to look up from his phone. He didn’t seem in any hurry to do so, so you cleared your throat to get his attention. 

He looked up, his eyes going wide and phone dropping to his lap when he saw you. You had changed into another tour shirt, one of his. It was a gray t-shirt, just barely covering your panties. His name, and a photo of him onstage across your chest.

“Better?” You asked with an arched brow. 

He didn’t say a word as he stood from the bed and stalked toward you, his eyes darkening. A knot began to form in your stomach the closer he got. When he reached you, his lips dropped to yours in a dizzying kiss. You moaned into his mouth, and his hands moved to your hips, grabbing you gruffly and turning you to lead you toward the bed. 

Your knees hit the mattress and Harry shoved you back, immediately coming over you and trailing his lips across your jaw, taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging, causing you to moan.

“Harry,” you gasped. 

He growled in your ear, his hands traveling down your body. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked sexier.” His hands reached your panties and tore them off of your body. “I don’t know why you bothered with those though.” 

You giggled at his desperation, but were quickly silenced when he ran a finger through your folds. Your breath hitched, and your back arched. 

“Already dripping for me, such a good girl.” 

“Harry, please.” You begged. 

Harry looked at you with mischief in his eyes. “You show up to my show wearing that shirt, and you think you should be rewarded?” 

“But… but… I…” You stutter as he continues to tease you with his fingers. “I have this one now.” 

“Mmm… that you do,” he hummed, slowly inserting a finger. “And you’re going to keep it on.” 

You were momentarily taken out of your lust fueled daze by his words. “Keep it on?” You looked at him curiously. 

Harry nodded before kissing you again. “Mmhmm,” he confirmed. “I want to see my name plastered across those perfect tits while I fuck you.” 

You let out a soft whimper, if you had known wearing his merch would set him off like this, you would have done it a long time ago. He adds a second finger, and moves his thumb to circle your clit. His lips latched onto your neck, marking you with biting kisses. 

“I’m… I’m close.” You moaned, grinding your hips against his hand. 

“Let go angel, want it all over my fingers.” He spoke against your skin. 

With one final pump of his hand, your back arched and Harry’s name fell from your lips in a high pitched whine. He worked you through your first release, finally slowing to a stop. He removed his fingers and brought them to his mouth, keeping eye contact with you as he licked them clean. He hummed in satisfaction as he removed them, leaning down to kiss you deeply. 

“Are you ready to take all of me?” He asked, his voice low and raspy as he lowered his underwear, his hard length springing free. 

“Yes Harry, I need you.” You pleaded, lifting your hips in an attempt for some friction. 

He chuckled at your desperation, lining himself up with your entrance and pumping his hard cock a few times before driving into you in one swift motion. Pausing for a moment, allowing you to adjust as he intertwined your fingers and brought your joined hands over your head. 

You rolled your hips, signaling that you were ready and Harry pulled out to the tip, and slamming back into you. He set a rough and relentless pace, hitting that spot with each thrust. The room was filled with the sounds of your grunts, and skin slapping against skin.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned, he unlinked your hands, using one of his to hold himself over you as the other cupped your cheek. “I can’t believe you’re all mine.” 

“Only yours, Harry. Always.” You said, your voice wavering slightly. 

You watched as his eyes flitted from your face, to the shirt that still covered your upper body. He felt your walls begin to flutter around him and he knew you were close. “That’s it baby, come all over my cock. I need it.” His thrusts became erratic as he approached his own release. 

Your hands gripped Harry’s biceps, your nails digging into the skin as you fell over the edge, Harry’s name falling off your lips in a series of moans as you coated his cock. 

“That’s it, such a good gi… fuck.” He groaned as he reached his climax. 

He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck as you came down from your high. Eventually, he removed himself from you and rolled onto his back, pulling you to his side. 

“So,” you broke the silence in the room. “What I got from that is that I don’t need to buy fancy lingerie, just need shirts with your face on them.”

You felt his chest shake with laughter. “Don’t kink shame me.” 

“No shame,” you said defensively. “Just observing.” You placed a series of light kisses on his chest. 

***

A few weeks later, Harry was still on the road and you had returned home. You were sitting in your living room watching television when there was a knock at the door. You answered it to find a delivery man with a large package. You accepted it happily and tore it open as soon as the door was shut. 

There was a note, your name written on the front. You smiled, instantly knowing who it was from. You opened it and read the hand-written message. 

One of everything. It’s good to have options.

-H

P.S. Send pictures of them all. ;)

You ripped open the tissue paper and started removing the contents. Laughing to yourself when you realized that he had sent you every piece of merch he currently had. You laid them out on the living room floor, taking a picture that included each piece and texting it to Harry with the caption, ‘just like you asked’. The response came within seconds. 

That’s not what I meant, and you know it. 

You did know it, but you couldn’t help but tease him a little. You brought everything into the bedroom, and put them on one by one, taking pictures of yourself posing in various positions. Once you had taken all the photos, you created a new shared album in your phone, naming it ‘Spank Bank’ and inviting Harry to it. Another, nearly immediate response. 

That’s more like it. 

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry's house #love on tour #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic

[wormbraind]

based on @glassknee's post and @notevenalittle1294's addition, i present to you: the sims endbringer mod, pho style (but not really, this is a fictional sims forum)

♦ Topic: [Self-promo] Endbringer Mod In: Boards ► Modding FKNSHJ (Original Poster) Posted On Apr 20th 2012: Hi all. 🙂 I’m excited to share this mod I’ve been working on. It involves randomized Endbringer attacks. By default they’re fairly more common than they are in real life, happening maybe once every ten in-game years, but if you look at read_me.txt in the downloads I’ve enclosed information on how to alter the probability and how to trigger specific Endbringers as well as how to make them easier or harder to defeat. Besides that I also included CC and a few Easter eggs that won't affect your gameplay.

(Showing page 1 of 2)

►termina2 (2011 Sim Comp Finalist) Replied On Apr 20th 2012: whoa, so cool :D i dont play with my sims much so ill try activating some endbringer attacks and see how it goes. im pretty bad at coding tho... ^_^

►tritebuilds (2011 Build Comp Semi-Finalist) Replied On Apr 20th 2012: Hey what the fuck? Endbringers aren't a joke. You've clearly never seen the aftermath of an attack, this is making a mockery out of the trauma of Endbringer victims such as myself. Who even comes up with this stuff???

►hshater Replied On Apr 20th 2012: im getting my popcorn lmfao

►termina2 (2011 Sim Comp Finalist) Replied On Apr 20th 2012: trite let's keep this civil, please, don't swear...

►oldlostsea Replied On Apr 20th 2012: Wait, isn't this the guy who posted those *suggestive* images of Leviathan?

►hshater Replied On Apr 20th 2012: +oldlostland what?? on here?? where?? not in a weird way like i don't want to see them but proof?

►oldlostsea Replied On Apr 20th 2012: +hshater Ok weirdo. It was on some PHO dupe (it has better information but worse moderation) and I only remember because it was weird + the random letter username stuck with me. I'll DM you the link once I find it.

►hshater Replied On Apr 20th 2012: +oldlostsea yeah yeah take your time. FJSKJ you've got anything to say for yourself?

►oldlostsea Replied On Apr 20th 2012: +hshater I found his account on the site and I downloaded the mod. Definitely the same person. The art style resemblance is uncanny. Sending you the link RN.

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►spaceg1rl (Suspended) Replied On Apr 20th 2012: why does the mod's art look like that? yeah he definitely wants to fuck them screenshot(64).png

►hole (Moderator) (2011 Simp Comp Winner) Replied On Apr 20th 2012: @spaceg1rl This is your fifth infraction this year. Suspended for two months.

►hshater Replied On Apr 20th 2012: +oldlostsea sorry i was walking my dog. and yeah that looks exactly the same as what spacegirl (rip) posted +hole i mean this as kindly as possible pleasedontgivemeawarning but with that username what grounds do you have to stand on

►hole (Moderator) (2011 Simp Comp Winner) Replied On Apr 20th 2012: @hshater It's a reference to Hole, the band, of which I made many Sims. You can see them in my Round 2 submission to last year's Sim Comp

►hshater Replied On Apr 20th 2012: yeah i'm sorry to break it to you but your tag says simp comp. congrats though!

►termina2 (2011 Sim Comp Finalist) Replied On Apr 20th 2012: i really love the atmosphere and the art and the cc... really surprised this was made by one person! good job!

►tritebuilds (2011 Build Comp Semi-Finalist) Replied On Apr 20th 2012: +termina2 You are literally contributing to the normalization of Endbringer attacks.

►termina2 (2011 Sim Comp Finalist) Replied On Apr 20th 2012: ?? im going to log off for a bit to work on a school project. really dont like how toxic you all are getting :( it's just a mod

►tritebuilds (2011 Build Comp Semi-Finalist) Replied On Apr 20th 2012: @cookiecrumbles @tenovertwosmallstones PLEASE remove this. It's extremely offensive and potentially f*tish content.

►cookiecrumbles (Moderator) Replied On Apr 20th 2012: I'm disabling replies while we discuss this. Please avoid harassing each other anywhere else in the meantime.

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#writing #parahumans #endbringers

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Kinktober Day 25

Day Twenty-Four | 🌹Kinktober Masterlist🌹 | Day Twenty-Six

Pairing: Shiv Roy x AFAB!Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked

Notes: I am, admittedly, quite nervous about this one, but here we go. Set during S1, pre-wedding.

Warnings: Infidelity; mentions of previous adolescent antics; mirror sex; oral sex; fingering; grinding; semi-public sex

“Try it on.” 

“We’re not here for me.” 

“Humor me.” Shiv tipped her head to the side, brows raising as she gave you a pretty frown, turning slightly from side to side. You knew better than to fall for what you called the Pinky Treatment—the batting eyelashes and pout that she gave her brothers and her father when she wanted something and wasn’t ready to budge on her position—but she always managed to get her way with you.

It was worse now, knowing that she was practically bare under the short pink, satin robe she was wearing. 

Your gaze drifted to the flesh-toned mesh in her hand, covered with dark straps. You reached out, taking hold of the bra and holding it up, gaze wandering the criss-cross of adjustable straps that covered the otherwise open cup. You looked at the piece still in her hand, nodding toward it. 

“What are those straps?” 

“Panties and a suspender belt.” 

You grunted in contemplation. 

“C’mon,” Shiv shuffled closer. “It’ll help me decide which ones I get for the honeymoon.” 

“Will it.” 

“Sure.” 

You glanced warily between the door leading to the lingerie shop’s private dressing suite. Shiv scoffed softly. 

“They won’t open it unless I tell them to,” She reassured. “C’mon, try it on.” 

You sighed heavily, reaching out and taking hold of the rest of lingerie, trying to ignore the little thrill you felt when she smiled victoriously. 

“Turn around,” You mumbled, waving her away. You reached down, frowning at the tags as she did as you asked. “Did you ask them to get my size?” 

“It’s more fun if we both try things on.” 

“Ugh, you weirdo.” 

“Save that for Roman.” 

“I will,” You laughed nervously. You swallowed, trying to push away your nerves as you got undressed. It took a little maneuvering, and by the time you got the bra, panties, and garters on, you felt even more nervous than you did before. 

“It looks fine,” You offered. “You don't need to look.” 

It was all Shiv needed to hear before she spun around, phone still in hand. She went still at the sight of you, her eyes raking over your body with a meticulous slowness that made you want to melt into the floor. She tossed her phone onto the thick-cushioned arm chair as she wandered closer, her arms folding over her chest. 

“Turn around?”

You scoffed, stomping a foot childishly. 

“Shiv.” 

“Turn,” She ordered, twirling her finger. You huffed, turning away from her. It was a solace, really. Your face and body went hot under her scrutiny as you felt her getting closer. God, just hold still. The sooner she looked at you, the sooner you could get out of this. 

You sucked up a sharp breath as you felt Shiv press up against your back, peering over your shoulder at the two of you in the mirror. 

“Fits well,” She commented matter-of-factly, as if you weren’t so hot you could combust. “But these seem a bit…” Her hands smoothed over your hips, tucking beneath the band of your panties. “Snug.” 

“A little,” You mumbled, “But not unlivable.” 

“Hmm,” She nodded, turning her head into your jaw. “We should get you some thigh-highs.” 

“I thought these weren’t for me.” 

“They’re not, but…” Shiv’s hands slid around to your belly, “They could be.” 

Your stomach flipped as her touch traveled up, tracing the strap that hung over the swell of your pebbling nipple. 

“You little slut.” 

“Slut?” You laughed. “If the PC police heard you saying that, you’d be out of a job.” 

“Funny. I think that attitude could make me CEO at Waystar Royco.” 

“Do you want that?” You asked, tipping your head back toward her. She didn’t answer at first, just slid her thumb over the swell of your breast. Your breath caught in your throat as her nail caught against the mesh. 

“This isn’t about what I want right now,” She finally answered. 

“Isn’t it?” You brushed your nose against her cheekbone. “You wanted me to go shopping with you; I’m here. You wanted me to try this on; I did.” 

You watched Shiv’s lips turn down in another pout, and felt her fingers skate across the straps on the bra, skimming your hardening nipple. 

“...Do you think Tom would like it?” You added, trying to turn the conversation. 

“I could turn up in a plaid flannel floor-length nightgown and he’d cum in his pants.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to quiet a laugh as you glanced up toward the mirror. You found Shiv eyeing you there, her fingers, hooking under one of the straps. She held your gaze as she tugged it out, then let it snap back against your nipple. You hissed softly, shifting in discomfort. She shushed you, turning her head and pressing her face into your neck. 

“Remember when we were in high school?” She murmured, breath brushing your skin, “And we used to pretend to date to freak out all the little shitheads in our class?”

You did remember. It was a little game that the two of you had played at—in the halls, between classes, at lunch. You’d held hands in the hall, waited for each other by your lockers—until one of your teachers threatened to report the behavior to her parents. Yours wouldn’t have cared, but there had been a wrath of Logan’s that Shiv wasn’t willing to incur. You nodded now, unable to get the words out.

“You used to get so flustered,” She laughed. “Jumped when I put my hand on your leg.” She slid one hand down, past the underwear to where the garters dangled against your thigh. You forced yourself to hold still, drawing in even breaths through your nose. Shiv let out an interested little hum. “Better at keeping still now, huh?”

“I’ve had more experience,” You mumbled. 

“I bet.” 

Her hands slid up, cupping your breasts and giving them a gentle squeeze. 

“Remember the sleepovers?” She murmured, “When we would play girlfriend-boyfriend?” 

You swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to press up into her hands. 

“That was a long time ago,” You mumbled. She hummed softly, smoothing her hand over your belly. 

“Think I’d make a better boyfriend than I used to,” She tipped her chin up, brushing her lips against the hinge of your jaw. 

“Oh really?” You shifted against her. “I mean…When we were younger, you just deepened your voice, pawed at my tits and called me babe.” 

“Mmm.” 

“So what’s changed?” 

“Well,” She trailed her fingers lower, dipping beneath the band of your panties. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched her in the mirror. Her gaze was set heavily on yours as she brushed her fingertips along the top of your pussy. “I know what I like…” 

“Oh?” 

“And I know what you like.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mm. Your old roommate liked to talk.” 

Your body went hot at the assertion. You swallowed thickly, eyelids fluttering as Shiv’s lips smooth along the curve of your ear. Her fingers slipped lower, gently swiping her fingers over your clit. 

“Did she,” You mumbled. 

“Sure. Get a couple of tequila shots in her and she had the loosest lips. Awful kisser, that girl,” Shiv smiled. “I don’t know how you put up with her.” 

“I managed.” 

“Mm.” Shiv spread your lips with her fore and ring fingers, using the middle to swirl your clit in slow circles. You bit your lip, tipping your hips into her touch. 

“Shiv, if someone comes in—” 

“No one’s going to,” She insisted again. You felt her grind up against you, heard the slip of her satin robe against your lingerie. 

“Why, because this is Shiv’s World?” You struggled to quip, “Whatever you say goes?” 

“Right now?” She chuckled against you. “It’s pretty close. I’m the bride, after all. I get what I want.” 

“You always get what you—what you want—damnit, Shiv,” You breathed. You grasped her wrist, tugging it out of your underwear before you turned to face her. You cupped her neck, drawing her in for a kiss. Shiv shook your grip loose, curling her arms around your middle and drawing you closer. You raised your hands, sliding them into her hair as her hands greedily wandered your body. You slid your tongue along hers, whimpering softly as she flicked the tip against yours. You gasped, stumbling back as she dropped to her knees, shoving your hips back toward the wall. She tore your panties down your thighs, pushing your legs wide. Your mouth fell open with a choked moan, hinging forward slightly as she pressed her face between your thighs, tongue sliding along the seam of your sex. 

“Shit,” You hissed, reaching down and curling your hands in her hair. You used the grip to grind down against mouth, quieting your whimpers as she lapped at you, sucking your clit between her lips and lashing it with her tongue. Her nails dug into your thighs as they quake, your knees weakening at her ministrations. You tugged Shiv’s hair, guiding her back and giving her a push. She leaned away, scooching back along the floor as you joined her on the floor. You grasped the tie on her robe, yanking it open as you climbed over her. She sagged back against the floor, sighing softly as you sucked one of her nipples into your mouth. 

You swirled your tongue around the hardening peak, sighing against her soft, fair skin as you slotted your thigh between her legs. You straddled her leg, whining as the two of you ground and pushed against one another. You scraped your teeth over her nipple, pinning her hip to the floor as she cursed and arched up against you. You drew your hand from her hip to toy with her slick pussy, feeling her plant her feet and drive her hips up against your hand and thigh. 

You tipped your chin up, eyeing Shiv. You found her pink-cheeked and panting, watching you from beneath her lids. You stroked her clit more harshly, ignoring the growing cramping in your wrist and fingers as she pressed her lips together tight. She sat up a little, propping herself up with one hand before shoving her hand back between your thighs. Your gut swooped, your lips parting as she swiped her tongue across your lips. You gasped as your orgasm swelled, your hips jolting as Shiv ground up against your thigh and fingers. You lowered your head, pressing your face into her neck as you cum. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, Shiv.” 

She hums, sucking a kiss against your neck as you feel her pussy spasming beneath your touch. You pant softly, nuzzling her skin gently and drawing her against you. Shiv hums happily, rolling her hips against you, chasing the throbbing aftershocks. 

“Um—Miss Roy?” 

The shop attendant’s voice made you go still in panic. Shiv hurried off of your lap, drawing her robe back around herself and tying it tightly. You stood on unsteady legs, straightening the lingerie and meeting Shiv’s eye as she raises her brows, nodding questioningly. 

“Yeah,” You breathe, smoothing your hand over your garments. Shiv swallows, clearing her throat before she reaches out, opening the door. The attendant looks between the two of you, brows raised, an expectant smile on her face. 

“How is everything in here?” 

“Fine,” Shiv says simply, “But we’d like some more champagne. And we’ll take what she's wearing in addition to what I order,” She points to you. 

“Excellent! Can I wrap them up?” 

“No need. She’ll be wearing them out.”

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @wild-rose-35 ; @daisyslibrary ; @informally-liz ; @andrastesflamingtitties ; @muchacha-encabronada ; @nerdygirl0414 ; @elen-aranel ; @ohbee-whatcanyoube ; @kmc1989 ; @quietpainter ; @thedreadandthefugitivemind ; @kaletastrophes ; @nyx2021 ; @thatesqcrush ; @shanimallina87 ; @adarasforest ; @s-u-t ; @silversprings-mp3 ; @senawashere ;

#Shiv Roy x Reader #Shiv Roy x You #Shiv Roy/Reader #Shiv Roy/You #Shiv Roy fic #Shiv Roy imagine #Kinktober #Kinktober 2023

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hey there! I really like your Faust shorts. Usually I’m nervous about requesting stuff, but I wanted to ask. Do you think maybe you could do Bard and a younger fan reader who’s been helping out at helvete for a job? He calls her “little lady,” both because she’s younger and way shorter than him lol. Maybe some of her bullies come into the shop and start teasing her, but then scary tall lanky boy comes out with the scary dog energy and scars them off? And when he sees that she’s kinda upset still about what happens he offers to let her pick out the horror movie they’re gonna watch together. Just cute platonic stuff with a smug of a crush on readers side lol

My little Lady - Faust x fem!reader

warning : alcohol, cuddling, use of a knife and gun

Info : Hi hi thanks for the request anon don't be nervous the only bad thing that could happen is a ,,No". So have fun reading this and hope you and others likes it ;)

masterlist

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

Helvete was the place to go if you were looking for like-minded people, weirdos, crazy people, satanists or simply a distraction.

It was a store for freaks, for people who didn't want to belong in society and didn't do so. A store that was nevertheless a home for very specific people.

A home that became a place where all the freaks could meet to be just that. Freaks. It was the store where the little lady stayed, at least that's what Faust always called her.

The younger employee who initially only helped out at the weekend was now an employee and a member of the store. At first, the boys had almost laughed at her when she came in because of her size she almost seemed to still be at school.

Although this was not the case, it was an unusual view, but by the time she proved herself on the drums and especially in her knowledge of music, she had the respect of the group. Her knowledge went so far that she only had to hear one note to know which song and band it was.

A talent that the biggest of the group, Faust, found particularly amusing. When he wasn't asleep, at home or watching horror movies, he was always in the store and a friendship soon developed between the two of them.

What started with a ,,Here, let me help you" and him taking a box from her to put it on the highest shelf usually ended with an extended evening in the store where they both listened to their favorite music.

She gave him a new knife for his birthday and he gave her a pair of boots with heels. Heels that made her a little taller, but not quite enough to even come close to her.

But she loved these boots and wore them almost every day, even on the day the door to the store opened and a certain group came in. Great, she thought as she looked up from the box of new records.

It was the new print of the Venom album and many would be coming in tomorrow so she wanted to get everything ready. But when she saw exactly who was standing in the doorway, she had to stifle a frustrated cry.

,,Well, if it isn't the freak," she heard the leader of her "friends" say, and she hadn't been able to get rid of the three of them since she had left the church.

She had met the three of them at the church and when she started wearing a little more black, well, Satan always shows himself in the strangest places.

,,If you want to buy something, make it otherwise," she tried, trying to suppress the fear and discomfort in her voice. But as the three approached her, she slowly moved away, wanting to escape, wanting to stop being the victim.

,,Oh, we're buying... only the customer service isn't that good, is it, boys?" he asked and suddenly the other two began to take the records out of their packaging and smash them. Their pleas and screams to stop stopped as the oldest of the three approached them.

She pushed hard with her back against the corner and her fear showed when he slid his fingers to her earrings. ,,It would be a shame to lose it," he murmured and placed his fingers on the upturned cross earring. ,,Don't do that," she said, her voice brittle and full of fear that he would tear her earring off.

Tears formed in her eyes as she watched more records being destroyed, the pain in her ear intensifying. Before suddenly footsteps could be heard from the cellar.

They sounded heavy and the steps creaked under the older man. ,,If I were you, you go now!" he hissed and she saw the knife flash in his hand as he looked at the three of them from behind his hair. ,,And what if you don't?" one of the three asked and threw a record at the larger one.

But Faust caught it and threw it so precisely that the edge cut the little one. ,,I'm... bleeding," he said firmly and backed away slowly, while the other fled, cursing as Faust pointed the knife at him.

,,What, are you going to kill me?" the leader asked, letting go of the young woman and walking towards the taller one, who towered over him. But Faust just smirked before grabbing the smaller one by the collar and pulling him towards him.

The coldness of the knife lay against the younger man's throat. ,,Do you want to find out?" he asked and saw the fear slowly forming in his gaze as he tore himself away and ran out screaming.

Before the door closed and Faust instantly lost the creepy energy. But in all of this she felt the rapid beating of her heart, which she knew was not only due to her fear.

Perhaps she had developed a little crush on him in all this time. But above all, he had her gratitude. ,,Thank you... Faust," she said and threw her arms around him, hugging the taller one, who lifted her up with a smile and twirled around slightly.

,,Come on, little lady, pick a movie and I'll make some popcorn...no one should say you were afraid of them," he said with a grin and went into the professional kitchen before she settled into the beanbag and decided on Halloween.

Already feeling much more relaxed watching the beginning, she soon felt the bowl of popcorn in her lap. ,,I couldn't have made a better choice, little lady," he said, slapping her lightly on the arm before he took some popcorn and she leaned against him before they both enjoyed the movie together.

But inside they both knew that they would give their lives to the other. They would look out for each other...they always would.

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

#lord of chaos 2018 #loc 2018 #valter skarsgård #loc faust #lords of chaos faust #faust x reader #lords of chaos faust x reader

[girlgerard]

im so confused like is it supposed to be a joke? is it supposed to be fetish? is it like a cosplay or just something they feel good in? like i’m enjoying all of it but i feel emoathically weird for the other band members am i doing it wrong???

okay people really need to understand something about gerard way. they are genuinely, unironically bizarre. like as a person they are actually a weirdo. they’re wonderful and sweet and intelligent but they are also so earnestly strange and to fully understand and enjoy my chemical romance you need to lean into that. they dress up because it’s fun and they like it. they like making themselves laugh. they like delightedly shocking people. they like chasing away homophobes, honestly. they’re just having fun. and do not worry about the rest of the band they’ve dealt with this for 20 odd years and they adore it

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

Obey Me Boys as Band Kids

Please note that these are personal things I've noticed in my time as a former band kid, and is not meant to be taken too seriously. I love all the sections equally and all the weirdos in them, haha. Anyways, go band kids! 💪

Inspired by the new event coming out! 🤗

Lucifer is a trumpet player. He’s got one of the biggest egos in the band and plays loud and proud even if he’s wrong (which is rare). Lucifer is that kid that takes his instrument home every single day to practice and shows off the next day. Takes band seriously, and is very popular among his peers. Mad that he didn’t get drum major position, but never shows it when asked. 

Mammon plays snare drum. Literally could use what’s left of his brain cells rattling around in his head instead. A troublemaker, probably gets betted to do stupid things every other week, which just causes more stress for the drum major and the band director. Though it makes for good stories later. One of the weakest marchers, loses the beat halfway and is now marching right, left, right…

Leviathan is a sax player, do not tell me he’s not. Most of the sax players I knew were NERDS, so dorky, but some of the funniest people you will ever meet. They’re either really popular or terribly socially inept, Levi falls on the socially inept spectrum. He’s not too serious, but not a total blowoff in the band. He plays super quiet out of fear of playing wrong, but if there’s a song he likes, he gets really into it. Probably one of those guys that puts the whole reed in his mouth and swishes it around to wet it as everyone else is appalled by it.

Satan is the drum major (me too 😊). Responsible and stressed, cordial with all, friendly with some. He knows the ins and outs of everything going on within the band, whether it’s gossip, inside jokes, the literal music itself (that’s a given), etc. He probably has little pow-wows with the section leaders where he gets his information, specifically the colorguard captain. Has a solid connection with the drumline.

Asmo is captain of the colorguard! Gossip and drama, and part of the band's discount Keeping Up With the Kardashians show (I swear that’s what it’s like). He’s a perfectionist, probably stays late after school to practice his routines. Has a meltdown at the smallest mistake, yells at others when they mess up. He’s definitely hit someone with a flag because they were in his way or in the wrong spot, iykyk. 

Beel is a tuba player. He probably keeps to himself, maybe befriending the trombone or trumpet players and opening up a little there. His mom brings the band snacks and food for games. New to band so he’s learning how to play and march properly. Still hasn’t learned to suck in his cheeks when he plays.

Belphie is a clarinet player (also me 💅). He’s probably a squeaker. Makes hard eye-contact with the drum major as he licks his reed wet with a sly grin just to mess with them. He’s a great player, he just needs to be louder, no one can hear him. Leans on his clarinet when his eyes get droopy when he’s sitting down. 

Diavolo is in the drumline, probably a bass or quad player. If he’s a quad player, there will never be a time you won’t hear him playing. Every five seconds he’s playing some part of the cadence, and somehow the rest of the drumline joins in. If he’s a bass player, he’s just a derpy guy who’s just there for a good time. Joins the tromboners in their mischief and jokes. 

Barbatos gives pit energy to me, think marimba and bells. He quietly practices in the back, waving his mallets over the notes so he doesn’t disturb anyone. Very attentive to the drum major and band director when they speak, never has an outburst of any kind. He’s responsible, and timely when preparing for a show. Probably keeps the drumline in check though. (Also plays cymbals during parades). 

Simeon is a flute player, specifically piccolo. He’s a beast on that thing, and so loud (watch your ears). Gossips and chats with the clarinet section, is an honorary member of that section too. I bet he has that flute pinky thing, iykyk. 

Solomon is… *sighs* a trombone player… He’s one of the guys in the back making “that’s what she said'' jokes when the director says something that can be twisted that way. Makes the whole band crack up at his funny quips. He’s a skilled marcher and is incredibly dedicated to the band. Sometimes empties his spit valve on other people’s shoes just to mess with them (think Lucifer specifically).

Luke is an aspiring trumpet player! He’s doing his best, so cheer him on when you can. One of those insecure, doesn’t want to be too loud trumpet players. But you can never be too loud…unless it says pianissimo…

#slightly rushed sorry if i missed anything #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #jo's thoughts

[stitchdfox]

Cross posting from my Twitter fan account!

Eddie’s on Tour pt 1

Eddie can’t remember the last time he tapped out first from a night of celebrating with the band post show. Sure, they were only on the third show of the tour they, by some miracle, booked to open for A Day To Remember. It felt like a fever dream.

His head was swimming with excitement from the exposure of playing with a legit band. They had only ever played at local bars like the Hide Out and that one time they played Battle of the Bands in Indy. It’s crazy the last show of tour will be at the House of Blues in Chicago.

Eddie had to figure out a way to make it through the tour without vibrating out of his skin.

So, here he was, half drunk and spiraling in the van. Thanks to his favorite crop top his back stuck to the vinyl of the middle bench he deemed the best place to suffer.

“Goddamnit,“ he sighs as he shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He opens his contacts and selects /Uncle/ and clicks the speaker icon before dropping the phone on his chest.

As it rings Eddie realizes how late it must be in Indiana and thinks about just ending the call when—

“Hellooo?” The voice says on the other end.

“You’re not Wayne” he sputters out.

“You’re right.” The voice is deep but sweet somehow.

“Why are you on my uncle’s phone?” Eddie is so confused.

“I’m not, actually.”

“Shit.”

Wayne had a new number from when he moved out of the old trailer.

“I’m an idiot,” Eddie whispers. The new number was under /Wayne/. He’d have to write the old man, like he promised, and tell him about the mix up. He’ll find it funny—

“You okay over there, stranger?” The voice asked.

Eddie had gone silent, lost in his thoughts.

“That’s a loaded question, sweetheart.” Eddie drummed his fingers on his bare midriff.

“That’s fair. Why don’t you start with why you were calling Wayne?” The man on the other end of the phone urged him on.

“Why the hell not?” Eddie hums. “I guess, I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“Hmm.” There’s a sudden clatter of dishes. “Shit.”

“You okay over there?” Eddie holds in a laugh.

“Fine. It’s fine.”

“Are you doing dishes? Oh my god. I’ve called a complete stranger and I’ve interrupted his chores. You were probably busy cleaning up after you made dinner for you and your lady friend. She’s patiently waiting for you to join her for the movie you settled on but you’re that weirdo that insists on doing the dishes right away.” Eddie rubs his hands down his face.

A sharp laugh comes through the phone. “You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”

“Hardly.” Eddie sighs. “Look man, I’m sorry I interrupted. I’ll let you go.”

“Wait.” The response was quick and Eddie could swear there was a pinch of desperation. The man continues. “I mean… uh. I don’t mind. See I just… um. I wouldn’t mind the company is all I’m saying.”

Eddie couldn’t help the stupid grin on his face anymore than the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“Well then… Hi.”

“Hi.” The man chuckles on the other end. “Wanna tell me why you’re overwhelmed then?”

“It’s kind of a long story.” Eddie isn’t sure he’s ready to dive into this deep rooted fear of failure with a complete stranger. Nice enough as he seems, it would be weird, right?

“I’ve got the time.”

There’s silence from both of them for a three count.

“Fine. I’m in a band.” Eddie pauses.

The man on the other end hums.

“We have only really played dive bars and Battle of the Bands type shit before, right? And I’m convinced one of the other guys made a deal with the devil to get us here, touring as the openers for one of our favorite bands. We’re three days into this tour and I can’t even enjoy it because I’m waiting for the fallout or to wake up from this dream and I can’t stop wondering when they’re gonna pull the rug out from under us. You know?”

“Sounds like you don’t see how amazing you really are then.” The man’s voice is so soothing, motherly almost. “Clearly this favorite band of yours saw something in you. They probably started out just the way you did. Give yourself some credit here, man.”

Eddie swallows back tears. “You don’t even know me though. I’m the freak, the fuck up. I…” he sighs. “Why do they think I can do this?”

“I dunno. It’s not just you though. You’ve got your bandmates with you. Don’t you believe in them?”

“Of course!”

“Don’t you trust them?” The man asks.

“With my life.”

“Then reel it in a bit. I’m sure they need you as much as you need them right now.” The man’s tone goes low. “Trust it.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Oh, I know I’m right.” There’s a smile in the man’s voice.

“Cocky, cocky. Wish I had your confidence.” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Shit. I’ve got call.

“I can let you go, man.” Eddie couldn’t mask his disappointment in letting the stranger off the line.

“No! No. Sorry. It’ll be a quick call. I’ll be back.” There’s a lull. “I promise.”

The phone beeps and Eddie is left with a faint static sound and his buzzing thoughts. This is absolutely not where he thought he’d be after the show tonight. There’s something about being on stage and the confidence he has in himself when he’s performing, but the second the lights go down and their gear is packed up, he feels like an imposter. Maybe the stranger was right, maybe he just can’t see what everyone else does. Maybe–

“You still there?” The man comes back on the line.

“Yeah. I– Still here.” Eddie covers his face, embarrassed.

“My friend needs a ride and I’m the designated driver it seems. I gotta go, but I…” there’s a soft huff, Eddie can almost feel the warmth of the breath, “I’d like to chat again. I mean, uh, if you’d like to. I figure the tour could get lonely? But now that I say that I realize you have so much happening and so many people there and fans to meet and this is probably dumb and–”

“Hey now. I’m the one that’s supposed to be spiraling tonight. You can spiral the next time, okay?” Eddie chuckles.

“Next time?” The hopeful sound of the man’s voice was all Eddie needed.

“Yes, sweetheart.” Eddie coos. “Next time.”

“I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Eddie.”

“Can’t wait. I’ll talk to you soon, Eddie.”

The line dies before Eddie can make a bigger fool of himself.

There’s a ruckus outside and he jumps as the rest of the band topple into the van.

“Are we sleeping in the parking lot tonight, fellas?” Eddie asks.

They all grumble. —

Part 2 on the way. You can catch up on Twitter if you’re impatient enough. Ha!

#Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #steddie #modern AU #idiots to lovers #cross posting from my twitter #eventual smut

[bifuriouswaterbender]

He's All That

Rated T - 4,768 words - 1/? chapters published - No Archive Warnings Apply - Written by me, image by @maikaartwork

It started when Nancy broke up with him. In hindsight, Steve maybe should have known better than to listen to Tommy at a time like this.

“Come on, man, you’re better off this way,” Tommy insisted as he leaned against Steve's locker. “I mean Wheeler’s cute and all, but she almost destroyed your popularity. Where’s the old king of the keg stand? Where’s Mr. Funny Guy who has a joke at every teacher’s expense? I’ve missed you, dude. You straightened up too much for her. It’s time to let loose, prove you’re still you.”

“Shut up.” Steve rolled his eyes. “I haven’t lost my popularity. I can absolutely still rule these halls.”

“Oh yeah?” The gleam in Tommy’s eyes should have been a warning sign. Instead it was a point of interest. “What if I made you a bet? I can prove you’re slipping.”

“You can’t,” Steve shot back. “I’m not. I’m popular enough to make anyone else popular too. Nancy’s social cred shot up when I started dating her.”

“Is that the angle you want to take?” Tommy asked. “Sure, we can do that. You can make anyone popular? How popular?”

“Top of the food chain,” Steve shot back, running a hand through his hair. He paused to grin at a couple of girls walking past, and they both giggled. He totally still had it. King Steve hadn’t gone anywhere.

“Prom court?”

Steve’s eyes snapped back to Tommy. “With a crown.”

“Perfect!” Tommy spun around, looking around them. “But I pick the target.”

“You don’t have to refer to her like that,” Steve said with a sigh. “She’ll be Carol’s new best friend in a matter of weeks.”

“Not her,” Tommy said, and Steve froze at the giant smile spreading over his face. “Him.”

“Him?” he repeated, whirling around to see who Tommy was looking at. “No way. Not possible. Dealing with a weird personality would be one thing, but scary and inaccessible? No can do. Besides, I thought you’d pick a chick. Dating someone is how I can make them popular. At very least, I figured you’d pick someone like Robin. What the hell am I supposed to do with Eddie Munson?”

“Like I was about to pick your band geek weirdo,” Tommy scoffed. “She’s weird, but she’s hot. That would be too easy. No, I want you to have a challenge. You don’t get to use dating you as the social cred they’re building.” He took a step forward into Steve’s space. “You said you’re up for it. You’re not giving up already, are you?”

Steve huffed, staring at Munson. As though he felt their eyes, Eddie looked up. He took taken aback for a moment, then glared before stomping away.

“I’m not giving up,” Steve said, “but it might be a little more difficult than anticipated.”

“Hey, you have months,” Tommy said with fake optimism. “I’m sure he’ll be the kind your band geek can take home to Mom in no time.”

Later that day, Steve realized he’d need help.

As much as Steve was loath to rely on someone else so quickly into the bet, he did need backup. He needed someone with a less biased opinion of Munson to help him figure out how to even approach the guy. If he went right now, Steve figured he’d get punched or at least laughed at. He needed a way in.

“Why are you asking me about Eddie?” Robin pressed her lips together and surveyed him carefully.

Steve shrugged and tried to look casual. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve never stopped to really consider him before. He seems like an interesting guy.”

“Not really your type of interesting,” Robin pointed out.

Steve rolled his eyes. “What? I’m not allowed to ask questions about people who don’t play sports?”

“Or wear short skirts,” she shot back. “Something you’re trying to tell me here, Harrington?”

“What?” Steve sputtered. He didn’t want to sound offended by the question, not when Robin had trusted him enough to tell him about herself. “I’m not… Even if I was, Eddie wouldn’t be my type.”

“What would your type be? Tommy Boy? I bet he’d say yes if you asked real nicely.”

Steve sighed, resting his hands on his hips. “Look, if this is a ploy to change the subject, it’s not going to work. Seriously, Robin, what’s his deal? I mean obviously he’s been around, but he’s never really been on my radar before. Plus, I figured you’d have a better understanding of him than anyone else I hang out with. I don’t think Tommy’s ever interacted with him outside buying pot for my parties.”

“You make your friends sound like such winning people,” she said dryly, but his argument must have worked from the way Robin sighed and stood up straight. “Fine, you want to know about Eddie? I’ll tell you what I can, but I don’t know how helpful I can actually be. We’re not friends or anything. He’s in band. Plays percussion—and guitar when we have a jazzier piece that needs it. That’s the only reason I know him really, but we have some friends in common. He runs Hellfire, so like, your little dweebs would probably love him.”

At the blank look on Steve’s face, Robin added, “It’s a Dungeons and Dragons club. You know, the game they play?”

“I know they play it,” Steve said, maybe a tad too defensively. “I guess I didn’t realize the school had a club for it.” At least that explained the shirt the dude wore all the time. “What’s with his look? I have never seen anyone wear a leather jacket year round the way he does.”

Robin shrugged. “I think it’s a music thing. Punk or whatever. You done with the twenty questions yet?”

Steve rubbed the back of his head as he said, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” she said. “What’d you get on the test for Click? I swear if you got below an 80% with the way we studied…”

It was easy to let Robin pull him to other subjects. He really did enjoy hanging out with her���way more than he liked spending time with Tommy and Carol these days if Steve was completely honest with himself. Besides, she’d given him more than enough to work with hopefully. Dungeons and Dragons seemed like the best way in. He could use the excuse of asking for the sake of the kids next year, get Eddie talking about that, and take things from there. He could steer the conversation once it was started.

And he did have to start. Steve absolutely had his work cut out for him, so the sooner they got started, the more dramatic a transformation Eddie could make.

[Read the rest of Chapter 1 here] Written in part as the free space square for both the @eddiemunsonbingo and @steveharringtonbingo

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie art #st fanfic #st art #stranger things #my writing #my fic #commissioned art

[ofmermaidstories]

But... What was the ending?? You gotta tell us the ending you came up with, I got invested in your time traveling kids!

LOL alright. 🥹 i’ll tell u BUT‼️ we’re gonna pretend it’s an x reader bc it’s. easier. LOL. 🥹🥹🥹

you don’t know this, ofc, but the kids are worried that their being there—with you, their age—has ruined everything. that maybe they ended up here to make sure you and their father happened, to make sure they end up existing. but it’s a disaster; their father (and he is their father, they’re sure of it, he makes the same ugly face when he’s trying to decide if something or someone is worth responding to) has no interest in dating, or you. and while this version of you (before them, before you grow into the adult they know) romanticises everything, even you can’t deny there’s anything more to his disinterest but disinterest. maybe he like, snickered once when you turned around too fast at the front of the class and banged your knee (painful) but beyond laughing kinda meanly there’s just—there’s no in.

“is there someone else?” your daughter asks, worried.

your son swats her away; they’re huddled together near one of the empty classrooms. everyone already thinks they’re weirdoes, because they’re so clueless about the things the people are into, or watch or listen or know. everyone thinks they’re just codependent homeschoolers but it’s still annoying.

“i don’t think so,” your son says, tapping his foot as he frowns. it’s a habit he’s picked up from you, your impatience for standing still. “he just kinda talks like everyone here is an idiot.”

“glad he hasn’t changed, then,” your daughter says tightly.

they know the story. their dad walks home with you one day, and then the day after, and then the day after that and then eventually you spend a saturday together, where on the walk home you end up jumping a fence and lingering, until the late dusk, when your mother—their grandmother—calls you, furious. your kids have tried everything. getting the two of you to walk the same way home, making that saturday happen by inviting you both out and trying to abandon you, much to your confusion—everything! hyping you up to each other, learning one another’s favourite bands and artists, suggesting it to the other. but it’s having the opposite effect. their father now sees you, in the courtyard at lunch, and immediately turns around. you walk into the library during study and he’s the only one there—leaving you to hide in the aisles, too embarrassed by their interference to face him.

the worst of it happens at a school function. your daughter, who’s come to know you as someone her age, someone dreamy and romantic who reads grandma’s romance novels, gets it into her head maybe, dressed up and in the low lighting of this stupid school thing, that things will change. will slip into place, just like those novels.

(it doesn’t; your son goes along with it because he’s desperate, because when he wakes up now it takes a moment for him to realise parts of him are slowly fading, that he now needs to concentrate to actively be apart of this world even as he and his sister are changing things, for the worst. but the night is a disaster. he convinces his anti-social father—a boy his age, stubborn still like the man who will hold firm with his decisions, in the future—to go, while you and your daughter arrive, and when you two are pushed together the disgust on his face is enough to stop you all in your tracks.

“why do you keep doing this?” he asks your son. his son, who doesn’t have an answer.

“leave me alone!” he says, glaring at you as he does. the betrayal you look at your son and daughter with, afterwards, is the worst feeling they’ve ever felt.

“i don’t get it,” you say, your eyes shiny with the embarrassment. “please stop it.”)

they concede defeat. its making you all miserable. their father won’t talk to your son, now, and while you’re polite you’re awkward. but then something happens—whether it’s them trying to force the future and failing, or just the end of their time here, your son collapses. your daughter races to you, the instinctive, knee-jerk reaction for her mother to fix things never leaving her, no matter the version of you you are—and when the pair of you get there, out of breath, it’s their father who’s kneeling beside him, his brow furrowed in concern as your son fades, for just a moment.

(“i’m sorry,” the boy says, to him and to you and to his sister. “i’m sorry.”

his father’s worried, now, every inch his age. “you’re fine!” he says, though he has no idea what’s going on and that frightens him. “hey, you’re okay.”

his sister is crying noisy tears; you’re holding her hand, frightened yourself and then the boy before you fades again, translucent like a ghost as the girl next to you startles, afraid.

“i’m— ” you think he’s going to say he’s sorry, again, but instead he whispers, “i’m afraid.”

he’s looking at you as he says it. the boy next to him grabs his shirt, his hand, tightly, like he can hold him back from the fear.

(it doesn’t work. he disappears and the girl next to you screams.)

(you and their father become closer, after witnessing that. the girl—your daughter—turns mute, thrown into a despair that you can’t help her out of it. you and your classmate—the boy they keep trying to set you up with—try to find out what you can, go to where they were staying (a motel? someone older who’ll be in their future who took their story at face value, because they saw a pair of scared kids who needed help?) and piece together an idea of the truth: they have things you’ve never seen before. dead technology that’s the advancement of stuff you have now.

“are they aliens?” you ask him, one day at lunch. you’ve taken to sitting together, trying to puzzle out what the fuck you saw. everyone else, who’s been watching the mess caused around you, just shrugs this off as a result of it.

“that’s stupid,” your classmate says. “but whatever they are…” he trails off, and you know he’s thinking of the boy’s big, shinning eyes as he choked out his apologies.

“is he dead?” you ask, quietly.

his mouth thins, eyes meeting yours and you can feel yours tremble, in answer.)

anyways. maybe the girl—your daughter—comes back to herself when she realises she’s starting to disappear too. she freaks out, and you freak out in turn because you don’t understand and then she disappears and you are devastated. you don’t understand. you couldn’t help and now they’re both gone and you don’t care what he said, maybe they were aliens—

their faux-guardian, who’s heard and learnt enough of the truth, is heavy with it. they tell you and your classmate both that sometimes things happen, that you can’t fix everything for everyone. that the best you both can do is live your lives.

you are summarily dismissed. and your classmate walks you home. you’re crying; he’s shellshocked. there’s safety in numbers.

(he walks you home again the next day. and the day after that. and the day after that and then one saturday you spend the day together. he tells you he knows a place, and you jump a fence and spend the afternoon in the shade and the golden green isolation of a forested creek, as you both talk out your final theories.

—somewhere in the future, your son wakes up in his bed, whole and safe, with a gasp.)

#ofmermaidstories-asks #prompts and drabbles and other things #insert ur fave anime boyfriend here lmaooo