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bread--quest · 5 months

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It's 2012 somewhere. Welcome.... to Night Vale Tumblr.

👁️ nvcr-official

Hi guys! I'm Intern Sarah! Excited to be joining you all!

👁️ nvcr-official

To the friends and family of Intern Sarah, she was a good intern and social media manager, and we are sorry to see her go. We will work to find a new intern as soon as possible.

83 notes

🦉 dark-owl-records

CALL OUT POST FOR CECIL PALMER

hes gotten away with shit for too long and im sick of it. tl;dr horrific intern mistreatment with no compensation, mountain denier, homophobic

keep reading

❌ number-one-moonhater Follow

Hey uh. Aren't you a company account? Why are you posting this

🦉 dark-owl-records

L + ratio + god forbid women do anything + your music taste is trash

🙈 seesomethingsaynothing Follow

Isn't Cecil literally gay?

🦉 dark-owl-records

he's homophobic

🪼 jeebyfish Follow

he has a husband...

🦉 dark-owl-records

yeah and he won't fucking shut up about it

2,500 notes

🤫 cecils-private-blog

Carlos hasn't liked any of my woodcarving posts in THREE DAYS!! I'm so scared what if he's going to break up with me :((

👁️ nvcr-official

Cecil he's your husband he's not breaking up with you. also this isn't a private blog you just put private in the url

🤫 cecils-private-blog

HOW DID YOU SEE THIS

4 notes

🏜️ sandeater Follow

tamika flynn spotted in ralph's dairy aisle "slaying" the milk

🦂 scorpiansscuttle Follow

op i know this is a joke but one time i was in the ralphs dairy aisle and there was some butter up on a really high shelf and someone said "don't worry, i'll get it" and i turned around and it was fucking tamika flynn

☁️ average-weather-enjoyer Follow

fake story :/

📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram

No it's true I was there

🚂 traintonowhere Follow

TAMIKA FLYNN??

🏜️ sandeater Follow

what the fuck is happening on my post

8,345 notes

👁️ nvcr-official

can you guys please stop sending cecil weird shit... i don't want to have to explain to my boss what a dilf is

27 notes

🐚 mariella-shella

Hey guys!! Sorry for the lack of posts recently! I entered a hole in the wall and when I got out I realized I didn't know how long I'd been in there, or where I was, or who I am, and I'm not sure that I'm still the person who entered that hole however long ago. Anyway, the normal posting schedule will resume as soon as I remember what my normal posting schedule was, and if I'm still the person who had that posting schedule!

🌪️ sandstorm-gf Follow

omg mariella!!! missed u so much girl glad ur back!

🐚 mariella-shella

i miss me too

42 notes

😎 Anonymous asked: Response to the homophobic allegations?

🎙️ cecilpalmer

Huh??

🎙️ cecilpalmer

@nvcr-official What does this mean? Is it new slang?

👁️ nvcr-official

uhhhh dont worry about it buddy

50 notes

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

hey guys im in quarantine for eating wheat and wheat byproducts uh...send asks?? i might be in here for a while lmaooo

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

oh lights in the sky its been 5 years since i made this post

☁️ glowcloudapologist Follow

how's it going op

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

i miss my family

506 notes

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

hey if anyone remembers anything about the person running this blog can you tell me? trying to recover the fragments of my identity from the void of memory lol

🥔 potato-enthusiast Follow

you were really hot

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

FUCK YEAHHHHHH

89 notes

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

just a reminder that new residents of east night vale are fully welcome to interact with this blog!!!! you will not be harassed and any hate will be blocked. this blog is safe even if this town isn't sometimes <3

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

This is so sweet, thank you so much! Just so you know, even though it's officially called East Night Vale now, a lot of people still call it Desert Bluffs! Just thought you might want to know :)

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

i'm not calling it that sorry

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

What??? Why??

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

just kind of sucks. as a name

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

?????????

170 notes

🐄

⬜️ kentuckymeatshower_deactivated11051983

what does this mean....

🌌 cece-xeze Follow

another great post from huntokar herself

16,683 notes

🚁 helicopters-in-your-area Follow

🌲 little-miss-ectoplasm Follow

you don't like pine cliff? 👻 oo ooo?

👁️ nvcr-official

NIGHT VALE SWEEEEEP

806 notes

😁 the-happy-smiler Follow

Hi everyone!! Since Twitter went down, I figured I'd try my hand at this Tumblr thing! I'm so excited to meet all of you!! Hope you're ready for some pictures of CENTIPEDES!! Feel free to AMA about the Smiling God!

👁️ nvcr-official

🦉 dark-owl-records

🎙️ cecilpalmer

📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram

🙈 seesomethingsaynothing Follow

🚂 traintonowhere Follow

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

🌌 cece-xeze Follow

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

🚁 helicopters-in-your-area Follow

21,983 notes

#fake tumblr #fan: weird little town #i hope you all like this one i came up with it during a slow shift a few nights back and have been carefully crafting it to perfection #boss makes a dollar i make a dime thats why i invent fake tumblr posts on company time. as they say #unreality #< jic #wow look something original!!#im not maintagging this one im letting it find its own way in the world #go my little post. be free #long post #edit: FUCK I FORGOT NOTE COUNTS ON SOME OF THEM. EDITED THOUGH IT MAY BE TOO LATE

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thecreelhouse · 17 days

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handle with care

Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Eddie and Robin think Steve needs to get out more, but he ends up in what he believes to be the wrong place at the wrong time, until he meets you. (meet cute/ugly au!!)

WC: 2.7k

CW/Tags: language, alcohol, mentions of injuries/blood, teeth mention, super brief suggestive moment, but the rest is awkward yet sweet fluff, reader is GN except for one gendered term at the end I couldn’t work around (apologies!!)

A/N: 10 years ago I broke my tooth on some poor dude’s head while stage diving, so here’s a fic inspired by that LMAO. I didn’t realize how similar some of it is to an old fic I wrote in 2020 until I finished writing this, but the overall idea is different enough to still post imo. this is silly and I don’t expect anyone to read it but if you do, thanks and enjoy! <3

“Oh. Oh, dude… that looks rough.”

Steve’s stumbling out of the small yet packed crowd, holding his head while blood drips down his face. He looks miserable, to say the least.

“Last fucking time I let either of you drag me out to some shit like this.”

“Whoa, hey, man, it’s your fault for not knowing pit etiquette,” Eddie snarks back, still handing a napkin over to Steve.

As soon as it’s in his hand, Steve recoils and throws the napkin back at Eddie. “Why is this wet?”

“Found it on the bar—“

“Jesus Christ.”

Robin rolls her eyes, handing Steve a clean, dry napkin for the blood. “The hell happened?”

“Some fucking idiot decided to stage dive onto me, and something hard stabbed my forehead.”

Robin stifles a laugh, but Eddie doesn’t bother hiding his snicker. “Dude, I warned you about crowdsurfing, pits, and stage diving.”

“What happened to just… enjoying music with your ears?”

Eddie quips back, “There’s absolutely no fun in that, Harrington.”

Steve drops into the barstool next to Robin, holding his head with a groan. She moves his hands away from the source of blood. “Let me see— oh, shit.”

“What? What happened? Is it bad?” Steve panics, but as he looks up, he sees Robin looking over his shoulder down the bar. Eddie follows her gaze, eyes narrowing at someone asking the bartender something, ending up with a glass of water.

“Think I found your idiot.”

Steve turns around, but too quickly, hit with dizziness instantly. “God, I’m never leaving the house without a fucking helmet ever again.”

“Hey, hey—“ Eddie calls out to you while you’re walking by the trio, rubbing your finger along the new, jagged edge of your tooth, lost in your thoughts. You spit into the closest trash can, blood tinged saliva finally off your tongue before taking a sip of water. Eddie’s hand lands on your shoulder, spinning you around. “Dude, what’s your problem?”

Your brows scrunch together as you shrug his hand off of you. “What’s yours?”

“Is— did you break your tooth?” Robin can’t help asking as you run your thumb along the sharpness of your now damaged front tooth.

You yell over the music, “Yeah, some fucking moron wasn’t moving with the crowd, and chipped my tooth! I think I hit their head while stage diving. Who the fuck comes to these shows to just stand there?”

Robin and Eddie both glance at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“What? What’s so fu—“ You glance between the two of them, then notice Steve, cradling his head in his hands as he holds a napkin to the wound; your face drops in a cruel mix of embarrassment and guilt. “Oh. Oh my god— fuck, dude, I- I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine, it’s not like I haven’t had enough concussions in my lifetime, or anything.” Steve groans, side eyeing you. He’s about to give you more sass, only to become distracted with your face. You’re so … pretty. He was expecting some annoying, ‘tough guy’ to be the culprit, not someone cute like you. “I— it’s cool, what’s one more, right?”

Robin has to hold back her laughter at Steve’s attempt of a save, spinning around on the barstool as she tries hiding her face in her drink. She only ends up laughing, dribbling onto her shirt.

“Great job, Buckley, can’t take you anywhere either.”

Robin ignores Steve’s remark after the first few notes of another song begins, “Oh, wait! Hold on, hold—” She downs her drink before yelling, “I loooooove this song!” Looking over at you, she asks, “You two should be fine, right? Great!” She hops off the barstool before dragging Eddie into the crowd with her.

Immediately you take her seat, gently pushing Steve’s hair away from his face. “C’mon, lemme see the damage— oh no.”

Steve groans, lifting his head with his eyes screwed shut from the pain. “If I hear one more ominous “oh” I’m gonna lose it.”

His comment is shrugged off, “Probably should properly introduce myself, since, y’know, my tooth decided to meet your head first.” Your joke pops his eyes open, laughing for a moment until it worsens his pain with a cringe. “Ah— shit, sorry!” You shoot him an apologetic glance before offering your name.

Glancing up at you, getting a better view of your features, he stumbles over what should just be a simple response. “St- Ste— my name? It’s Steve.”

You bite your bottom lip to hold back a giggle before continuing, “Steve, I got bad news for ya’.”

“What now?”

Taking over on blotting the wound, you move his hand away softly as your own adds pressure to stop the bleeding. He blushes under your touch, welcoming and soft in contrast to the sharp pain you accidentally left behind first.

“You’re gonna have to wear a bandage on that cute face for awhile.”

Steve laughs at your corny attempt of flirting; like he’s any better.

“Yeah, well…” His eyes meet yours, then fall to your smile. The part of your tooth cracked off isn’t terrible. Noticeable, sure, but somehow you make it work. “I got nothin’ clever to say, but you’re still cute with a broken tooth. Not easy to pull off.”

You roll your eyes playfully with a smile as kind as your touch.

“I’m so sorry me and my tooth happened to dive bomb into your pretty head,” You tease, using your free hand to rummage through your jacket pocket before finding a sealed bandage. “You mind if I see?”

“I mean… your tooth was literally in my head, so I don’t think you have to ask.”

“Okay, sassy pants, hold still.” You carefully remove the now bloody napkin away, noticing the gash is pretty rough, but not worth an ER trip, thankfully. The bleeding’s beginning to slow down.

“What’s the news, doc? Am I gonna make it?”

“Hm… not sure. Might need a drink for that,” You smirk, applying the bandaid to his head. Steve looks a little silly, but still terribly attractive. “Pick your poison, s’on me.”

“Oh, I- I—“ He glances up at you as you lean onto the bar, admiring how your outfit hugs you in all the right places. “S- surprise me?”

You give another smile before catching the bartender’s attention. Steve misses what you order with how hard his head is pounding, loud music no help whatsoever. You murmur a quick thanks before sliding a tip towards the bartender, handing Steve his drink before knocking your glass against his, “To the only idiots in this place.”

There’s cherries in both yours and his, but he has an extra; after taking a sip, his eyes go wide with nostalgia. “Why does this taste familiar?”

“Dirty Shirley!” You exclaim happily, but Steve looks confused. “Like, a Shirley Temple, but grown up! Get it? ‘Cause it’s got the vodka?” You force a laugh at your own bad humor, but the way you poke fun at yourself earns a genuine, soft laugh from Steve as he shakes his head. “Used to be my fave drink as a kid, and now it’s even better.”

“You didn’t get as many cherries as I did,” He points out with the slightest pout while you take a sip.

“Told ‘em yours needed to be as sweet as you.”

“You’re knocking it outta the park with these corny lines.”

“Yeah? Enough to apologize for being a total asshole and flinging myself on you?”

Steve hums, lips on the edge of his glass, “Might need to try a little harder.” He knows he’s not a lightweight, so it can’t be the alcohol making him feel so airy and bold, it has to be the head injury. He reaches out to your chin, gently pulling on it to lower your bottom lip; you part your lips, catching on immediately as you try playing it cool, ignoring the way your breath hitches.

It’s got to be a weird sight out of context, watching Steve feel along your broken tooth, but it’s kind of on par for how weird this entire situation has been. “S’sharp. Does it hurt?” If this was any other stranger touching your tooth you just broke on their head, you’d be creeped out, but something about Steve’s demeanor shows he means no harm.

“Sore but it ain’t so bad. Got my nose cracked in a pit last year, that was worse.” You shrug while Steve looks at you like you’re insane; his hand pulls back before you become nosy. “So… gonna tell me why your polo wearing ass is in a place like this?”

He nods over to Robin and Eddie, bopping around the crowd. “Those two thought I needed to get out of the house more.”

“Shoulda’ picked something more your speed,” The comment’s lighthearted, but you feel bad instantly; you barely know Steve, you probably should ease up on the teasing. “M’sorry again, like, for real. I got way too excited to stage dive for the first time, and it’s definitely my last.”

“Nah, you’re right, I stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this.”

“What? In a dive bar balls deep in the DIY scene? The whole point of subcultures in music like this is giving everyone a place to feel welcome, even if they’re cute dorks that don’t move with the crowd.” You catch yourself before rambling away about something you’re so passionate about. “If there’s ever a show you wanna go to and need someone to hang with, I’m always down for shit like this. Even if it’s something more your speed, just lemme know.”

Steve finds himself smiling over your offer, curiosity getting the best of him, “Why do you like all of this—” He gestures lazily around the club “—so much?”

You down the rest of your drink, “It’s a second home to me— and that sounds bizarre, I’m sure, ‘cause, like… how the hell do you feel at home in a room full of strangers? But I feel safer losing myself to the music with people who get it.” You pull a cherry out of the glass, popping it into your mouth with a pluck of the stem. “Whether I’m by myself or with friends, it beats being home home, I guess. Either way, I don’t feel so alone here.”

Steve watches you fidget with the cherry stem, mentally kicking himself for asking something so personal. “I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t— that’s—“ He collects his thoughts for a moment, “I’m sorry if that put you on the spot to answer so… uh—“

“Keep your apology, Steve, you did nothing wrong. My bad for over sharing, I tend to do that… a lot.”

He shakes his head, “Hey, don’t— you keep your apology, too.” He’s not sure when his hand reached for your arm, softly squeezing it in a supportive gesture, but you don’t seem to mind. He laughs humorlessly, “Jesus, are you bad with that too? I feel like I’m apologizing all the time for just—“

“Just existing?”

“Yes!” He’s a little too excited to relate to someone with a personal struggle, but you don’t mind.

You lift his hand off of your arm, and for a moment he worries he was too forward, but you gently hold his hand in yours, pressing your palm against his. The two of you splay your fingers out, pressed up against one another.

“Don’t know why you’re scared of being in a pit with hands like this. Y’could totally take on jerks like me who get carried away.” Your comment isn’t meant to be anything more than harmless and playful, but once the words leave your lips, you curse yourself internally for how they’re phrased.

Steve’s brow quirks, and your mouth opens, about to apologize, but he beats you to it. “Can’t tell if that was supposed to be another corny pickup line or not.”

“… Maybe it is.” You smirk, but anxiously add, “Unless it’s— it doesn’t— not unless—“

“Unless I want it to be?” He finishes for you, intertwining his fingers with yours. “‘Cause I do.”

You beam with a nod, “So… you wanna hang out again? Like, for real, not this whole tooth in your head mess.”

Steve finally shoots a smooth response, “Can’t do that unless I have your number, y’know.”

“Oh— oh, duh, oh my god.” You lean over the bar, asking the bartender for a pen and paper, but he only has a pen; there’s probably something cliche in the way you’re writing your number on a bar napkin, when just minutes earlier, you used them to halt the bleeding from Steve’s head.

Scribbling it down, you hand it to Steve, but not before a tiny boost of confidence pushes you to add, “Might need your number too, in case one of your friends decides to use that napkin.” He side eyes you with a hint of a smile, writing and exchanging his number with you, too.

Neither of you notice Robin and Eddie across the room, yell-whispering to one another over the music as they gossip over the two of you.

“You saw that too, right? They did the hand thing, the hand thing!” Robin happily shouts, and Eddie chuckles with a shake of his head.

“Yeah, they’re definitely gonna fuck.” Eddie snickers and Robin jokingly smacks his shoulder.

“Bet they’re gonna be endgame.”

“Sure fuckin’ hope so, it’d be one hell of a story.”

—

Omitting anything inappropriate, especially the last part— told to you teasingly a month into dating Steve— you finish retelling the night you and Steve met.

“That’s how you met Daddy?” The twins’ reactions starkly contrast one another’s, as usual; your daughter is horrified, while your son is thrilled to learn this.

“S’so silly!” He falls onto his back from his spot on the floor, holding his tummy as he laughs loudly.

“Did he glue your tooth back together?” Your daughter asks, blatantly ignoring that Steve has no dentistry experience whatsoever. You hold back your laughter, not wanting to make her feel bad.

“No, honey, I actually spit it into—“

“— Into their hand, and safely took it to the dentist for him to fix the next day.” Steve rushes in as he walks by the room, overhearing the conversation; he looks to you, eyes wide, mouthing, “what are you doing?”

Your daughter runs to Steve, clinging to him like a koala. He laughs as he lifts her into his arms, watching as her tiny hands push his hair away from his face; he starts going cross eyed trying to follow her movement.

“Sweetheart, what are you up to?” Steve chuckles as she runs her hand along his forehead, face displaying a state of determination.

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“Where’s the spot Mommy’s tooth hit your head?”

He glares down at you playfully while his daughter continues searching for a scar. Looking back at his daughter, he answers, “It faded awhile ago, probably from all the forehead kisses Mommy gave me.”

You force a fake cough, “Corny.” At the same time, both of your kids make “blech!” noises.

Before Steve can retort, your son runs to climb into your lap, excitedly asking, “Can you show me how to do that?”

Your brows furrow a bit but you laugh, “Show you how to do what, kiddo?”

“Stage diving!”

Both you and Steve exclaim a firm, “NO.” making your son pout, but only for a moment.

“S’okay, I’ll ask Uncle Eddie instead,” He slips off your lap, marching out of the room; his sister wriggles out of Steve’s grasp, and he takes the hint, setting her down gently. She gives a “hmph!” stomping out after her brother.

Once the coast is clear, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter.

“Did you ever think us being absolute idiots would lead to all of this?” You find yourself asking Steve between giggles. He pulls you up off the chair and into his arms, kissing the top of your head as he laughs softly.

“Not at all, but I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

You push his hair away from his face, finding the very faint scar from that fateful night years ago, pressing a soft kiss to the exact spot, thinking:

What a hell of a story.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #my fics #handle with care

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puppy-steve · 5 months

Text

i keep thinking about that one bachelor au post so here's my take on it (i've never watched the bachelor or bachelorette so bear with me)

the bachelor au where steve's the bachelor and eddie is a contestant, but not because he actually wants to be, he's just in it for the paycheck. robin is also a contestant but only because her parents sent in her application without her knowing and she isn't out to them yet.

they both think that steve is overrated and definitely over hyped. typical rich kid with enough money to buy people's love, yada yada.

until they both start going on dates with him and then realize that it isn't exactly true. yes, he's rich, but he's also kind and funny and actually genuine once you get past the mask he puts on for everybody. eventually, eddie and robin find themselves looking forward to their dates.

only robin doesn't want to date him. he's slowly moving his way up the ranks to becoming her best friend, sure, but this is still tv. she's still expected to kiss him and confess her feelings for him. and when the time comes for her to do that, she can't.

they're in venice. steve is leaning in and robin is very aware of the cameras filming them. the back of her neck goes cold and her stomach churns and suddenly she's running in the opposite direction. her italian is passable so she ends up getting a taxi back to the hotel production put them in.

she locks herself in her en suite and presses her forehead against the cold porcelain. she doesn't know how long she sits there until her phone buzzes and she checks the notification. the nausea rises up her throat again. she forgot she gave steve her number.

there's a knock on her room door and another text.

r u ok? can i come in?

robin debates it but figures she owes him and explanation. she lets him in and they sit on the bathroom floor. robin tells him why she's on the show in the first place, about how she didn't know her parents signed her up until she got the phone call from the casting director. tells him that even if she gets kicked off, she can still use the money for her student loans.

she stares at the water in the toilet bowl when she comes out to him.

steve is quiet, processing, before he laughs. he's not laughing at her, he promises, but "robin. you're on a show with more than a handful of other queers, you know that, right? i'm bisexual."

and yeah, robin knew that, but it's different when you're not into the guy you're supposed to be romancing at all.

steve reassures her that it's okay, and that he still hopes they can be friends and keep in touch after the show ends.

robin would like that.

she apologizes to the production crew the next day and they're understanding and steve and robin get a re-do of their date. it's much more genuine this time, filled with laughs and digs as they eat gelato along the river and people watch and gossip.

it's the best robin's ever been on.

eddie, on the other hand. he's absolutely head over heels for steve, which is surprising even for him. he's trailer park trash, he's got absolutely nothing on steve harrington. not the name, not the money.

hell, the very first day, he insulted the guy's food choices right to his face without knowing it.

eddie wants the earth to give way underneath him and swallow him whole.

he plays it up on their first date, all fake niceties and empty smiles, until steve tells him point blank, "the guy that said the buffet was shit that first night? i want to get to know him."

eddie's flabbergasted.

steve opens up about all the fake people in his life, the ones who just take advantage of them and use him for their own gains. the ones who don't even bother to get to know the real him. the one that likes to play guitar and hang out with the gaggle of teenagers that follow him around all the time for some unknown reason.

he tells eddie about what he wants to do with his life, not what someone else has planned for him and eddie falls deeper and deeper.

this time, when steve leans in for a kiss, eddie doesn't shy away. their lips press together and it's the best goddamn kiss either one of them have ever had.

the show has a deadline, of course, and steve can't just spend all his time with eddie and robin. there are other contestants. robin knows her rose is strictly platonic and steve has already called her multiple times freaking out about his growing crush on eddie. she knows eddie has this in the bag.

the final night comes and the contestants have dwindled. there's only a small group of them left: eddie, robin, and another guy and girl they didn't bother learning the names of.

when steve chooses eddie after a moment of dramatic silence that kind of puts his own dm dramatics to shame, eddie doesn't hesitate to jump in steve's arms, wrap his legs around his waist, and plant a sloppy one on him right in front of the cameras.

#cj talks #something something steve goes on a tv show to find romance and ends up finding his romantic and platonic soulmates #steddie #steddie fic #cj writes #i liked being your schmuck #platonic stobin #the three muskequeers

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solarlunarsstuff · 6 months

Note

Can you write Mike Taking readers virginity or mutual masterbation where he is more dominant and a lot of praise pleaseee

YESSSS, I'll do both my lovely anon💞! (Also if u want to be a certain emoji type of anon u can put "-Anon🦈" or smth like that)

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙

☆ Double Night Guards ☆

Synopsis: You were both hired to watched an old run down pizzeria, while Mike and you only had subtle interactions he still thought it count. You would mostly clean the place up here and there, while Mike stayed back in the office watching the camera's, if he wanted to do this he would have to do it quick before you came back...

Tw: mutual pining, mutual masterbation, dirty talk, foul language, LOTS of praise, virginity loss (reader), manhandiling, Dacryphilia, dumbification, mentions of pregnancy, creampies, slow burn-ish, somniphilia, hair pulling, body worship, pet names, full Nelson, smut n' flufff, and nice after care.

A/n: Also I'm sorry other anon my bsf typed 'sure' on it and posted it but I couldn't get it back but I hope it was similar to this... :((

You were both hired about a week ago, you still haven't gotten used to your new sleep schedule but you did manage to get up. Only a few minutes late.

Surprised that you woke up early today, you had gotten ready eaten breakfast and drove off for work.

It was obvious you were going to be getting there earlier than Mike, so you decided to look around the pizzeria for some cleaning utilities. You did find them in a closet near the end of the hall.

You grabbed what you needed and got to work, starting in the bathrooms would be a bad idea so you decided to stroll near the front of the run down restaurant.

It took you about 10 minutes to move all of the furniture, stacking the children chairs in a corner and pick up the loose trash off of the dirty carpets.

You had music blasting and hadn't noticed Mike had entered through the double glass doors. He was nervously standing there not knowing what to do, he decided to tap on your shoulder.

That quite obviously scared the living shit out of you, whipping your body around and your shirt and vest hiked up your body a bit.

You had giggled lightly and picked up remaining trash beind you on the danty carpet, you heard Mike shift a little bit behind you. Weird...

"Scared the fuck out of me, Mike!" You laughed out

He rested his right hand behind the nape of his neck while awkwardly stuttering.

"Uhh, I-I'll just g-go to the, uhm.." Mike was clearly struggling

"Office?"

"Yeah, that.."

You told him that you wanted to stay out here and clean around the place because of how gross it was and how it was making your dust allergy kick in.

Mike just nodded in response and walked swiftly away to the shared office you both had, he was kind of relieved that you weren't watching cameras.

He would get the worst aching boner because of you. Mike would become so desperate that he would be clenching the armrests of his chair.

Besides that he was not as overwhelmed as much, that was good, he just sat there and watched the cameras. Checking on the animatronics and something else...

Job wise, you and him were good colleagues. You both have respect for each other and respect boundaries. But he wanted to cross the line, he wanted to see how far you could go without overdoing it.

Mike would have to shift himself in his pants everytime you would bend over to grab something. You broke something in him, he was getting needier the more you both came to work.

You had just finished cleaning the dining area and moved onto the stage where the main 3 were. Opening the curtains manually and shining your flashlight in to see what you were working with.

That didn't matter to Mike, what mattered was how you looked when you had the bottom half of your body hanging off the edge of the duty stage while the top was laying down trying to dust best as possible without stepping onto the stage.

That's when he broke, in that exact moment. 'What if- I could be quick, right, she won't know..' Mike told himself.

He focused onto the old beat up camera screen while palming himself through his jeans, he used the back of his other hand to muffle his deep groans that came out of him.

Mike was extremely focused on you, he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and boxers to the end of his thigh. Precum was dripping mini droplets from the slit on the top of his pretty red tip.

He slowly started to palm himself, making sure not to be to loud, Mike took his time and played with his slit and continued to lather precum on his whole length.

Mike ruffled his hair back while he picked his pace up a bit, he let his head hang back while he lolled his tongue out a little. (Futureman reference)

He nearly came when he saw that you had dropped something under a table and had to get on all fours to try and reach for it. Your ass sticking out from behind you.

Mike whimpered from the way you moved, you had taken your vest off and had a black tank top on that made your tits almost spill out when you walked.

He thrusted into his hand and started to moan a little but not to loud, as he was cautious so you wouldn't find out.

Mike's cock was twitching, that was telling him that he was getting closer to his release.

"Fuckkk, {Y/n}-" he groaned

Then the coil in him snapped apart, he came. There's was a lot rolling down his knuckles, his bare thighs, and some splatters got onto the camera screens.

His chest was heaving heavily, soft whispers of your name could be heard from his mouth. Mike reached for his tissues and cleaned himself along with whatever was hit.

Right after Mike threw the last of the mess away into the trash, you entered the room. Also breathing heavily, from the cleaning of course. He fixed his clothing and sat back down onto the chair, manspreading.

This man did wonders on you, but he was so oblivious that it was cute. But when he did that pose. Oh it went straight down to your core, making your walls flutter with excitement.

But you couldn't just take your bottom of right there and spread your legs open and start fingering yourself while playing with your-

You just couldn't, you didn't even know him like that. So you just had to wait, the last of the 4 hours of your shift. Tonight was going to be long..

You would both awkwardly stand there and not utter a word, you noticed that Mike had extremely heavy eyebags.

"Hey, if your tired, you could sleep..I could take over.." you uttered cautiously

His eyes lit up, he nodded a yes and moved to where you were sitting and switched spots. Throwing yourself onto the office chair.

Looking at the cameras seeing that nothing was wrong, you peered over your shoulder to see a beautiful man sleeping before you. I mean, you could?

"Fuck it.." you mumbled barely over a whisper

You didn't want to take all of your clothes off so you came up with a better plan.

While slipping your hand into your pants, teasing yourself through your panties. Glancing from the old cameras to Mike's sleeping body.

You used your hand to grip the armrest part of the chair, getting a bit frustrating. You slipped your delicate fingers past your panties.

Circling your clit and picking up your slick from your needy hole to lather over your throbbing clit. You let out a huff but quickly silenced yourself once you saw that Mike started to stir.

But that didn't mean you were stopping, putting more pressure onto your clit made you gasp. That wasn't even enough.

You picked your pace up and started to slip two fingers into your gaping hole, the silence was loud only to be interrupted by the slick noises of your throbbing cunt.

"Shiiiit- Mike-" you loudly whispered

You started to finger yourself faster and used your palm to rub your clit. This got you closer, making you let out little ah ah ah's every time you slipped in and out.

That's when you burst, your thighs were shaky and your cum was covering your panties and hand. You got up quietly and rushed to the bathroom to wash your hands. And you came back to continue your shift.

And soon it reached 6 AM, you gently woke Mike up.

"What is it?" He groggliy asked

He must've forgotten we were at work.. you thought

"Mike, our shift just ended, we can go home now." You told while putting your jacket on and gathering your belongings.

He mouthed an oh and got up to grab his stuff. You both got out of the pizzeria and Mike locked up, that was because you couldn't trust yourself with keys whatsoever.

You lived a few houses down from Mike which wasn't bad, if him needed anything he would probably come to you first.

Before Mike got into his car you called his name.

"Hey, uhh, do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow night? I was told that we don't have a shift until next week.." you shyly asked

"Uhm, yeah!"

"Oh, also, you can bring Abby!" You happily smiled at him before getting into your car.

And with that, you drove off back to your house. Heart beating rapidly from inviting your coworker over to your house for dinner.

You had no idea what to cook, but then it hit you. You've babysat Abby before, and you knew what food she liked the most. Spaghetti and pizza.

So you got to work, you obviously made the pizza a day before because making homemade pizza dough takes hours to rise. So you didn't want to rush anything.

After an hour or so, you had left the dough in a bowl with plastic wrap on the top to let it rise. And so with that, you went to take a nap.

You woke up around 4 PM, you kind of forgot what time to tell Mike to come over. So you called him.

Ring!

He finally answered and asked who this was.

"Hey, it's {Y/n} I forgot to tell you what time to come, for, you know, dinner.."

"Anyway, I was thinking 5:30?" You continued

His side of the line went a bit silent.

"Yeah, sounds great. Me and Abby will be there in awhile.." his raspy voice coughed out

You both said your goodbyes and you went straight to the kitchen. Having to make the spaghetti, doesn't seem hard. So you finished that within an hour and set the table as best you could.

You waited in the living room until you heard a knock on your door. Must be them! You thought.

You shuffled to put a jacket on while stumbling to the foyer. You fixed your hair a bit and opened the door.

"Heyy, come on in you guys!" You warmly smiled at Abby and Mike.

Abby rushed in and hugged you by your waist, you happily sighed and hugged her back. Mike just awkwardly stood there and waited.

You let Abby go and took Mike's hand to lead him through your house while Abby let herself in and excitedly explored.

Mike reminded her not to be as nosy at home and not to break anything. You giggled a little from the sibling interactions that they had.

Once all three of you got into your kitchen you showed them to the made dining table. You never saw Abby so happy, she sat down and beckoned for you and Mike to come over.

You both sat down and made plates, after about an hour. Abby was sitting on the living room floor while she watched TV. You and Mike were observing from afar.

"She's so cute, I wish I had my own kid.." you sighed

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mike flush a tint of red on his cheeks, while scratching the nape of his neck.

Don't say it. Don't say it. He told himself.

"Well, what if...what if I gave you one?" He stuttered a bit but had some confidence in him.

Your eyes widened but soon turned into a soft smile.

"I would love that, Mike.." you said while resting your arms on his shoulders

"Oh!" His voice was above a whisper

You gave him a quick kiss on the lips and walked toward Abby. Leaving Mike all hot and bothered.

"Hey Abs, do you have school tomorrow?" You kindly asked while resting your hands on your knees.

She shook her head.

"I was thinking, what would you think of a sleep over at my house tonight?" You told her

She jumped up and hugged you while thanking you and asking where she would sleep.

You lead her to a guest room and let her choose a pillow and blanket to use, she smiled and got her bed ready.

"If you want, you can continue watching TV until 12 PM." You smiled

She thanked you again and ran off down stairs. Leaving you and Mike alone, you had brought him to your room.

"So, about that baby you were going to give me..." you inquired

He turned beet red, reenacting what he had said to you earlier. Mike's expression softened and he sat on the edge of your bed while holding your left hip and your cheek.

Mike nodded and pulled you into a kiss, it was sloppy but needy. He pulled you onto his lap and pulled on your hair so it made him look down at you.

You moaned into his mouth from the pressure, he smiled against your lips. Moving down to your neck leaving hickeys where he wanted them. Mike obviously made sure to lock your bedroom door before he sat down.

Mike tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over you head showing that you hadn't worn any sort of bra, he whimpered at the sight of you bare.

Just for him, his good girl. And his only good girl.

Mike attached his wet lips to one of your plump breast. He sucked and gave it kitten licks. His actions as of now made your head roll back as you started to roll your hips on his clothed dick.

He bit lightly onto your harden nipple to see your reaction and oh did he get one. You pushed Mike's head further into your chest, unlocking something in him.

He sucked a little harder and thrusted his hips up to meet your low grinding. Groaning into your breasts sending sensational waves through you.

Mike could spend hours touching your tits, just squishing them or giving them little kisses is his go to when he's with you almost all the time.

As of right now, all he wanted to do was give you pleasure and so he did. Mike looked up at you through his half lidded eyes and licked a strip from the bottom to the top of your boobs.

Throwing your head back and babbling incoherent words under your breath.

"Mikey, please! I need it, right now! Please, I'll be a good girl!"

He loved the little nickname Mikey. It sends butterflies straight to his stomach, wanting- needing you.

That was it, he couldn't take it anymore. He struggled a little to get all of his clothing items off but he was soon bare and he ripped your shorts and panties along with one swift movement of his hands.

Mike loved how you were wet for him, making his cock's tip was already leaking with his pretty precum.

Giving himself a few strokes making him twitch in his own hand. Mike let go and positioned you so your head was on a pillow and put another pillow under your lower back.

"Alright baby, are you ready? It might hurt, its okay." Mike whispered beautiful nothings into your ear.

"Gonna start with the tip, okay darlin'?" Fuck, he was doing a number on you with his voice.

Mike swiped his cock head along your folds, making you huff out in sexual frustration.

"Deep breath in..." he muttered loud enough for you to understand before slowly rutting his tip into you.

The head was tugging on your cunt, his praise made your pussy to become slick with your juices.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay my love?" You only nodded in response and waited

It was abrupt, it stung but it felt so fucking good. Mike had only made it a little bit more than halfway before you started to nudge closer to him so he could bottom out.

"Aww, little whore wants more? I'll give you more you fucking slut-" he grunted while thrusting his hips into you entirely.

Arching your back off of the bed and nearly loosing your eyesight from rolling your eyes to the back of your head. Mike chuckled lightly while slowly rolling his hips, in and out of your sopping cunt.

"Thought you wanted it sweetheart?" He teased

He grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed them a little, getting the perfect view of how your needy pussy was taking him. Mike soon lifted your right leg onto his shoulder while the other planted into the mattress.

Mike picked his pace up a bit and started to feel a knot forming in his stomach, as he moved faster and faster until he couldn't move any faster. He grew bored of the position you were in so he gripped the back sides of both of your thighs and moved up and rested your knees on either side of your head.

Eye widening that you were capable of folding like that, not complaining. He continued to fuck his cock into your puffy cunt. You tightened your walls around him.

"Fuucckkk, this pussy is just milkin' me isn't it?" He grunted

You were close, it was obvious because you let little ah's out and your breathing became uneven. Your thighs were trembling a little.

"Gonna be a good girl and let me cum in you?" His grunts became his breath sharpening through his gritted teeth.

You nodded aggressively, giving him the go. It only took a few more pumps until you clenched around him, having your eyes roll back while whispering his name incoherently.

Mike came right after, filling your pretty pussy with his hot seed. He pulled out and saw how your cunt clenched around nothing and his cum spilling out.

He sighed and got up to the connected bathroom of your room and got a damp towel to clean you both up before he gathered a new pair of clothing and dressed you and himself.

Cuddling up, spooning you and letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Did s' good for me, princess.." he mumbled while nearly drifting off.

Rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

"I love you {Y/n}, I always have." Mike gave a quick kiss on your cheek before dozing off while warmly wrapping around you like a love letter.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

I'm so sorry if this is half assed. This is one of the longest fics I've ever written. School just sucks and I type on my phone for writing (I don't have a laptop lmao). Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this, love you pooksters 🫶💤 (I'll prob work on the other fics in a later time. Sorry my luvs💞)

#fnaf #josh hutcherson #michael afton #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt x reader #smut #michael afton x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #half assed #fanfic #fnaf movie #fnaf smut

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

Text

request; omg can we get one where it’s like that one trend on tiktok where the girls wearing lipstick n it goes to her bf w kisses on his face😭😭😭 PLEASE I KEEP SEEING IT EVERYWHERE

warnings; fluff, maybe suggestive

pairing; jj x fem!reader

authors note; i’ve seen the tiktoks too my fyp is obx and couples rn :,) love this, thank u for sending this in. after the day i’ve had i enjoyed writing something small and pure. and i accidentally posted your ask when trying to save to drafts i ended up posting it so i hope u still see this <3

lipstick tiktok (example)

“The red lipstick is new, baby.”

JJ’s voice was raspy, having sat in that same criss crossed position for around an hour, on the carpeted floor beside you, whilst you brushed makeup products gently to your skin. Detailed review of the products you typically use, and that deep rouge lipstick was not one of them.

You were sat at your vanity, preparing for a party at the boneyard. It was the last get together for the summer, so you were tedious in being sure that this makeup look was one to remember.

He resembled that of a small child, the way he’s been beaming up in astonishment. Admiring every move you make to enhance the impeccable beauty you already had to start with. And reminiscing at the fact that you were his, truthfully his in every way.

“Mhm,” you breathe, deciphering wether or not you should take the risk of wearing the color or not. Typically sticking to nudes and neutrals, this was something out of your comfort zone.

“You gonna’ wear it?”

“Should I?”

He gives you a ‘you would look perfect wearing a fucking trash bag, did you really just ask me that’ look. His hand grasps your thigh, thumb reassuring you against your flesh, with small circular motions. Replacing his thumb with his chin, you feel the bone dig into the thick skin— this required a better view than the one he had.

“Course’ pretty girl,” he batted his eyelashes with promise. “Now put that shit on, m’waiting.”

At that, you hesitantly take the top off of the black capsule. Twisting it up for more of the substance, revealing an untouched dark bloody shade of deep red— the most powerful shade. Divine femme fatale, if you will.

JJ could’ve sworn he shattered into a thousand bits, bursting at the seams. The way your mouth parted open delicately to apply it, so intimate and sensual.

Being that it was pigmented you merely needed a few strokes. To JJ’s dismay though, he wanted to rewind that moment, bringing it in closely to store in his brain for the long run.

Open at an angle so sacred he could sob from the sheer euphoric look.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” he can’t help the words that spill past his lips. Nearly in a trace, and he swore he felt drool leave his mouth.

“Yeah?”

You snap the cap back on, standing from the stool, sliding it inward, and JJ follows suit. Someone that was melting moments ago is now towering over you.

“Definitely baby.”

Sort of repaying him in a way, you flash a toothy grin at him, lipstick effortlessly lining your plump lips— you lean forward cupping his jaw with your palms. JJ happily obliged, not caring about the stains the redness would leave on his features. He couldn’t have asked for anything more, actually.

Your lips pucker softly, pressing kisses to every inch of skin you could reach on his face. From the small freckles that littered his jawline to the top of his forehead that was fanned by the tufts of his blonde tresses. Everywhere.

His heated cheeks. Kiss.

The button-like tip of his nose. Kiss.

His chin. Kiss.

His longing lips. Kiss.

Your mouth shape reflected on his tanned face, intricate lining of your lips, every crevice. Fragile and slow with each and every kiss.

Catching your breath, both you and JJ peer into the vanity mirror. He pulls you into his side chuckling at the reflection. His pretty face, painted in the marks of your lips. Yours, lipstick smeared with swollen lips.

This was when JJ strongly believed in the saying of ‘ruin her lipstick, not her mascara.’

“Gotta wipe it off now, J.”

You reach for a makeup wipe, not wanting your boyfriend to embarrass himself at the event to come. But he forces you into his chest to peer up at him, causing your eyebrows to knit together.

“Leave it.”

He adored the lingering sensation of your lips to the subtle skin. Wanting every part of him to be a reminder of you.

So that anyone that walks pass him could clear as day see, he desperately belonged to his lover.

“Really J, let me wipe-“

“I said leave it, baby.”

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rukunas · 2 years

Text

post inspired by this, also this is a complete self-insert bc i hate one of my roommates LMAOOO hope she never sees this…. completely unedited too i’m sorry

cw: bakugo is in his 20s + reader is in college, suggestive

pro!hero bakugo always wonders why you don’t ever invite him back to your place.

well, to be fair, his place is amazing. even for just starting his agency, he gets a decent pay, and he put his first check into a penthouse that overlooks the whole city. crystal clear windows that go from the ceiling to the floor, more rooms than he can use— so of course, he randomly finds your things littered around everywhere. you probably like his place even more than him.

but he knows you have a place at your college campus. you’ve never invited him inside, though, always hurrying out the door whenever he picks you up. you’ve complained to him about one of your roommates once, but besides that, he knows nothing.

“what are you doing here?”

bakugo’s busy peering in over your head, trying to catch a glimpse of anything in your apartment. “brought you dinner. can i come in?”

it’s funny watching him, seeing how shocked he is at seeing how you live. “your kitchen is so small. how do ya fuckin’ cook in here?” “this painting isn’t bolted. do ya want it to kill ya?” and his reaction to your bedroom— “fucking hell. how do you have so much stuff?!”

it’s even funnier when he complains about the size of your twin bed as he rams into you.

“fuck.” he spits out angrily, sweat dripping down his brow as he curves his back to keep his frame above you and most importantly, on the damn bed. he gets why you like his place so much.

sleeping together afterwards is a whole other story. he takes up the whole bed—mind you, his feet hang off— and you’re left to lay on top of him, limbs all tangled up. (he honestly kind of likes it, but he’ll never admit it).

bakugo wakes up in the middle of the night to find you at your desk, typing away at some essay due tomorrow morning.

“come back in bed.”

“‘m almost finished. promise. just need to proofread and edit and… shit, what format do i need to use?”

bakugo sighs, lifting out of bed. “can i get water?”

“yeah, my brita is in the fridge. it’s blue and has my name on it.”

he’s standing in the glow of the fridge light, trying to figure out where the fuck your brita is, when someone shrieks.

“h-holy shit! you’re— you’re dynamight!” your roommate— the one you’ve said is annoying, always asks for my homework answers, never takes out the trash. “holy shit!”

“oh, um.” bakugo realizes too late that he’s only in his boxers. “yeah. do you know where my girl’s brita is? said it’s blue.”

her eyes bulge out of her head. “oh! i used it by accident.” she laughs awkwardly, grabbing it off the counter to hand it to him. “forgot to refill it though.”

bakugo feels his own blood boil. he recalls the time he lived with denki— the fucker would do the exact same thing. before he can open his mouth to spew out everything you’ve said about her, your face pops around the corner.

“hey, i finished. did you get water?”

“yeah.” he manages to pour in half a glass before the brita empties. he hands the glass to you. “drink this. i’ll refill it.”

“thanks, baby.” you try pecking his cheek, but he turns his head so that you reach his lips. he smirks into it, wrapping his arm around your waist but quickly realizes that he has an audience.

your roommate gapes at the two of you, jaw practically on the floor. “you didn’t tell me you’re dating dynamight.”

“um… yeah.” you nod your head stiffly. “if you’re going to use my brita, can you at least fill it up?”

you tug bakugo’s arm to bring him back to your room, ignoring (but also basking in) the way your roommate still stands in utter shock.

the next morning, he finds himself on the carpet. he must have rolled off the bed in his sleep. his final straw.

so, he proposes you move in with him. it’s better if your place also happens to be his.

#this is so pathetic but i dreamt ab this #i want pro hero bakugo to lay on my bed while i write my fucking lab report #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki fluff

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nolita-fairytale · 3 months

Text

bad moon rising | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

summary: in another lifetime, you meet mikey berzatto by chance one halloween night in nyc.

or, the fic based on this headcanon

warnings: angst, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, drug usage, high mikey b, swearing, family drama, depression, not a happy ending

wc: 3.7k

a/n: i wrote about grief again. shocking, i know. thank you all for your interest based on the headcanon it came from and thank you for your patience. i wanted so badly to post this around halloween and have been sitting on it since the better part of last year as one of my wips. finally, finally, it's here!! i took a slightly different approach than the headcanon, but i think it still does it justice. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the carmy taglist.

this what-if fic takes place october 2021 because it's make my heart surrender-canon that mikey and reader never met; reader x carmy are best friends and colleagues but it has not gone further than that.

masterlist

Halloween, in another lifetime:

“Can I get hands, please!” Carmy shouts out to the entire kitchen, only to be met with a strong chorus of ‘hands’ in response.

His team works together like a well-oiled machine; a tight run ship, led by a captain near-suffocated under the weight of the chip on his shoulder.

“Chef!” you hear the sound of your general manager’s voice ring through the kitchen, causing many a-heads to turn. She rarely comes into the kitchen during dinner service unless it’s serious. Her eyes lock with Carmy’s as he looks up from his expo, as if she’s about to deliver bad news.

His mind races through the possibilities, preparing to solve the next oncoming crisis. Could it be an undercooked steak? An overcooked duck breast? Another complaint of ‘too salty’ or ‘underseasoned?’

“Chef, you uh… you have a visitor,” she says instead–the last thing he expects to hear.

A visitor?

“Wh-?”

“Someone’s here to see you. Says he’s your… brother??” Carmy’s ears begin to burn, as he searches for your face amidst the chaos, your gaze there to catch him even from across the kitchen. Your presence feels reassuring, like a strong man in a storm. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s knee deep into service and he cannot get the sound of tickets being added to the expo out of his head. He opens his mouth to say something but he’s uncertain any words come out of his mouth, unsure of what he’d even say. You send him a reassuring nod, and it’s as if in one look, you’ve made the decision to go.

“Chef, you good?” Carmy hears you ask the head pastry chef.

“Yeah, we got it. But don’t take too long,” she answers with a curt nod of approval.

He watches as you nod again, this time in recognition of your boss’ answer, as you pull the food-grade nitrile gloves off of your hands, discarding them in the nearby trash can. Without a word, you follow Kate closely behind, exchanging a few words with her as the two of you disappear to the front of house. There’s a war inside of Carmy as he watches you go–a pang of guilt and a feeling of relief–that whatever it is, you’ve agreed to take care of it.

In all of the years that he’s been in New York, no one’s come to see him–the possibility of it happening now, let alone as a surprise, feels improbable.

Must be a prank or some shit….

It couldn’t really be Michael, could it?

As you seek out the answer, your feet carrying you faster than you anticipated, you realize that you’re searching for a face you’ve only seen in photographs. Kate follows closely behind while you push through the front door of the restaurant only to find a man pacing just outside of the restaurant, a ghostface mask in hand. You can tell he’s been sweating, the circles under his eyes just as dark as the ones you’ve become so familiar with in Carmy, with an anxious look in his eyes as his gaze turns towards you.

He’s certainly not the larger-than-life older brother you’ve seen in the sparse amount of pictures that Carmy’s shown you.

“I got this, Kate,” you mutter over your shoulder with a confident nod, letting your general manager know that you’re good on your own. “You sure?” she asks you quietly.

“I’m sure,” you answer, watching as a disappointed look spread across Michael’s face as soon as he sees that:

“You’re not Carmen.”

“Uh… no. I’m not,” you reply, hearing the front door to the restaurant close behind you. The man swears under his breath, and you watch as face changes from disappointment to annoyance quickly, as you try your best to come up with an explanation that may satisfy him. “He uh… he can’t come out. Not right now. So he sent me.”

Michael scoffs with a shake of his head, his eyebrows quickly rising and falling incredulously as he takes another drag off his cigarette.

“Shit... the guy can't even make time to see his big brother?" he asks, the annoyance obvious in his voice this time.

You take a step towards him, your arms folded across your chest.

“I’m sorry. I-, I don't think he was expecting you,” you answer, much more compassionately this time.

“Right,” Michael mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear. You watch as he throws the butt of his cigarette down on the pavement, before stamping it out.

“It’s just-. He would if he could. I know it. It's just a busy night. I-... we're doing 200 covers tonight and uh... well, he runs the kitchen so,” you try again, and you can practically feel the disappointment (and resentment) burying itself deeper in Michael.

“Yeah, no thanks, lady. You don’t need to explain it to me. Jagoff can’t even make time to say ‘hi’ to his brother. Sends you to do his dirty work instead,” Michael dismisses you, bitterly.

He takes a beat. And then another, as if he’s accepted that he’s not going to see Carmy after all.

“Why don’t you come inside? I’m sure-,” you offer, taking another step towards him.

“‘S alright, sweetheart,” he dismisses you again, this time gentler. “You don’t need to make up for his bullshit.”

You open your mouth to say something—anything in defense of Carmy—but you’re certain that nothing you have to say will be enough for your best friend’s older brother (save for Carmy coming out here himself).

With a nod, you accept defeat, turning to go back inside. But there’s something that stops you—like you just can’t just go back inside without trying to remedy the situation one last time. This time all you say is:

“I don’t know how long you’re in town for but… we should be off by midnight.”

Michael only offers you a sympathetic smile before you slip back inside.

—---------------------------------------

It’s not until you and Carmy are packing up your things to head home that he brings it up—his mysterious visitor—hesitant to ask the question that’s been eating at him all night.

“So uh… was it really him? Michael?” he asks you, cautiously, as he watches your face carefully for any kind of reaction.

“Uh… yeah. I mean, at least the guy I recognized from your pictures,” you reply, hoping that the answer (or the fact that he missed his brother) won’t break his heart.

A beat.

“What’d he want?” Carmy asks, trying to mask his curiosity as best as possible.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “Seems like he found himself in the city. I didn’t ask. I didn’t… know if you wanted me to.”

Carmy tries again.

“Oh no. It’s-, no I didn’t-, no, it’s okay.”

He takes his time, making up his mind about what he wants to say next.

“It’s weird, right? Guy can barely pick up the phone to say hello but… he can show up unannounced and just like-, expect me to drop everything?” he asks you—the look in his eyes telling you that his mind is miles away.

“I- I don’t know, Carmy,” you reply, heavily. “Are you… do you wish you had gone instead of me?”

Carmy’s quiet as he follows you out of the back door of the restaurant, thinking his answer over.

“I don’t know,” he answers slowly, a lack of confidence as the words fall out of his mouth. “Maybe?”

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel and right now he just feels… ambushed, which only makes him want to shut down.

Instead, Carmy changes the subject back to your post-work plans, the two of you debating what kind of post-shift late night meal you’re going to have before settling on a few slices of pizza on the way back to your place. You and Carmy cut through the alley to the front of the restaurant so that you can begin your late-night sojourn, and it’s only when he spots something odd that he stops you.

“What the fuck?” Carmy cuts you off, holding an arm out in front of you to stop you from walking any further.

You follow his line of sight right over to a figure moving towards the both of you. In the brief glimpse you’ve gotten of the person moving towards you, all you can see is a quick flash of the ghostface mask they hold in their hands as a bus drives by, obstructing your view.

Carmy’s heart stops, fear filling his chest as the bus speeds by, the person getting closer and closer until…

“Michael?!” Carmy shouts, squinting as he sees the man approach. His expression of pure shock leaves his jaw agape, rendering him speechless as he scrambles to try to find better words that:

“What-, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Shit,” Michael scoffs playfully, with a chuckle, his breath uneven from the light jogging pace he’d kept. Michael takes note of the arm his younger brother’s extended, shielding you from him. “What? Can’t your big brother come surprise ya in the big city?”

Carmy shoots him a look that says, ‘when have you ever done that’ and Michael nods knowingly, his eyebrows quickly raising, then lowering as he makes peace with the fact that he’s never been that guy.

“Me and Deb… we came up for the weekend,” Mikey admits with a heavy sigh. “Tried to do something nice for her but, you know, broad’s been a real bitch-.”

“Mikey,” Carmy warns, taking a tone you recognize—the kind he uses when he’s going to yell at the saucier for a broken mornay.

“Right,” Mike course corrects at the volume of a mumble, heaving a heavy, yet disarming sigh.

Carmy nods slowly as he allows some part of him to relax, his arm falling away from you as the two of you exchange a look.

“We uh…. Got into another fight. She’s on her way back to Chicago now,” Mikey explains, the disappointment evident in his voice this time, almost as if it were an apology.

“Sorry,” Carmy mutters quietly, as you exchange a look with him.

“Nah it’s-, she’ll get over it,” Mikey brushes off with a shrug, his tone shifting as he extens an arm out to you.

“Fuck, where are my manners? I never properly introduced myself earlier. I’m Mikey. Mikey Berzatto,” he grins with a charm and confidence that’s been absent in both of your interactions with him till now. The smile that spreads across his face is contagious as he looks from you to Carmy, then back to you. “Shit. I’m sorry. ‘M fuckin’ jagoff, interupting your night like this. I should probably get-.”

“No!” you protest, almost too quickly, earning a look from Carmy. “We weren’t-, we were just getting off work and were gonna grab a bite. Maybe even… a drink?” you suggest, a hopefulness in your eyes as you turn towards Carmy.

“Yeah?” Michael asks, his interest piqued.

“Uhm. Just gonna grab a bite actually,” Carmy forces out, sending a glare in your direction.

“You know what’s crazy? I know a spot. With food. And drinks,” you challenge him, silently begging him to just go with it.

“You cool with that, Carm?” Mike asks this time, looking from you to his younger brother once more. It’s the first time that Carmy thinks Michael’s ever looked to him for approval.

Carmy’s quiet for a moment, torn between wanting to burn it all down or declare a gleeful ‘yes’ because at least Mikey wants to spend time with him.

“Um. Uh. Yeah. Yeah okay,” Carmy finally agrees.

“Alright, let’s fuckin’ do it!” Mikey rallies.

And as he turns to go, your voice instructing him that it’s only a few blocks from here, you and Carmy fall into stride, just a few steps behind Mikey.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Carmy threatens you—though there’s no weight to it—through gritted teeth.

You shove him playfully, bumping your shoulder against his side as the two of you walk, answering with a promise that: “You’ll thank me later.”

—---------------------------------------

You sit on one side of Carmy, Mikey on the other, and you can see why Carmy looks at his older brother like he hung the sun, the moon, and the stars above. There’s something different about Michael—something different than when you met him just hours ago outside of the restaurant—as he corrals the three of you into a round of shots.

As the shots of tequila arrive at the bar, Carmy dismisses his, his attention fixed to the still-full whiskey on the rocks he’d ordered earlier, just to appease his older brother. He watches you carefully as you and Mikey clink glasses before throwing back your own respective shots.

“Carm?” Mikey asks, nodding towards the third, untouched shot glass.

Carmy hesitates.

“It’s fine. I’ll take his,” you jump in, half as an attempt to give Carmy the out he so desperately desires, and half because, admittedly, meeting the great Mikey Berzatto makes you a little nervous.

Before anyone can protest, you reach out, picking up the shot glass, before tapping it down against the bar top, fearlessly throwing it back. Michael watches you with a sense of amusement, as your face crinkles in response to the sting of the liquor and the bitterness of the lime you chase it with.

He smirks, sharing a knowing look with his younger brother that says, “I like this girl,” which in turn only causes Carmy to blush. Before Mikey can say anything more, the song that blares through the speakers changes, earning his attention as he hears the familiar words:

“I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today”

“Alright, alright. Think it’s a little too on the nose if I admit that I love this song? On Halloween? C’maaaaaahn,” Mikey asks, almost as if it’s a confession in reference to the easily recognizable Creedance Clearwater revival hit.

“No! No, I love this song,” you’re quick to assuage his hesitation as your eyes light up in response to his recognition.

“You got good taste, kid,” Michael notes confidently, winking in his brother’s direction. “I like this girl, Carm.”

Only this time, he says it out loud. Carmy only shakes his head, the blush already running across his cheeks taking a deeper shade of red.

“Yeah, yeah. Uh. You both uh.. Like music,” Carmy smiles, gesturing from you to his brother. At least this is going a lot better than he expected it to, he reminds himself.

“Oh yeah?” Michael asks, clearly intrigued.

“Oh that’s right!” you exclaim, simultaneously. The excitement that brews within you has you stumbling over your words as you manage to get out:

“You’re-, oh my god! The Lennon jacket!”

“What?” Mike asks, shooting you a funny look.

“I’m sorry. I just-. I realize I’m not-,” you stammer over your words, trying your best to explain your earlier exclamation over your own excitement.

“You gave Carmy the denim jacket – the 1950s selvedge Wrangler!”

“Just like the-,” Michael starts, the two of you finishing his sentence at once with:

“... just like the one John Lennon had!”

“Marry this girl, Carm. Marry her right now. Tonight! Or I will,” Michael encourages, slapping his hand down against the bar. He speaks with so much bravado and conviction that you can only imagine that there was none left for Carmy. “Fuckin’ christ. I never should’ve let you two meet,” Carmy groans on an exasperated exhale as he shakes his head once again.

“Oh c’mon, Carm,” Mikey rouses him, with a playful eye roll.

“It’s totally my favorite jacket of his! I-, well, it’s a long story but we actually became friends over the jacket because he spilled a drink on me and-,”

“Ahhh real smooth.”

“No! No, it was okay, I promise. I-, I don’t know if we would’ve gotten to know each other if he hadn’t so-. Call it a lucky jacket, I guess,” you smile, stealing a look in Carmy’s direction. He shoots the smallest smile back to you, cognizant of the fact that Mikey’s observing the entire interaction.

As you begin to tell Michael the story about the aforementioned Lennon jacket, it could be minutes, hours, or days that pass, once you and Mikey finish trading facts about music like they’re trivia cards. It’s almost as entertaining as watching Mikey and Carmy go at it, bouncing facts about the history of denim like you’re at the French Open.

You excuse yourself to the restrooms—partially because you really have to pee and partially because it seems like this evening is going well—wanting to give both brothers some time alone. And as soon as you’re out of earshot, Mikey’s on Carmy like an FBI Investigation.

“This your girl, Carm, or what?" he asks with a casualness to his voice that sets off alarms in Carmy’s head.

"Mikey, stop it,” Carmy dismisses him, hoping more than anything for this to be the end of the conversation.

Instead, Mikey scoffs, shaking his head as he downs another shot.

"Then at least tell me you're hittin' that."

“Michael!" Carmy hushes his brother, a warning and protectiveness in his voice this time.

"Are you fuckin' serious right now, Bear?” Michael pushes further. “What, you're telling me you're not when she’s walkin’ around in your jacket, talkin’ about wearing your clothes to your big brother and I’m supposed to think-?"

"She's not!” Carmy cuts him off. “She doesn’t do-, she’s.... my friend. Jus’ give it up alright.”

"Shit. Wish I had a friend like that. Ya friends, kid, or are ya... you know... friends?" Mikey smirks, earning a venomous glare from his younger brother.

Carmy shakes his head in response, jaw clenched, as he stares down at the bar top, a feeling inside of him that he doesn’t like when he even thinks about Mikey looking at you like that.

"Shit, I thought I taught you better than that, Bear."

There it is again.

That feeling.

He’s not sure how to name it, but it’s enough to make Carmy want to deck his brother right then and there as it rises inside of him.

"I'm serious, Mike. We’re just friends,” Carmy spits out. He’s much more serious this time. “Cut it out."

But Michael’s too quick, his voice growing louder as he interjects on the tail end of Carmy’s insistence.

"Oh come on! The chick's smokin' fuckin' hot. And I can tell that you like her. I'm not blind, Carm. I see the way you-."

And if it’s as if something snaps inside of Carmy as he exclaims:

"Don't talk to me like you know what's going on in my life! Fuck!"

"Carm-."

"Can't even pick up the damn phone and then you just... waltz into town acting like everything is okay?!” he fumes, standing up out of his chair.

His face grows redder with each word, and it only confirms Mikey’s suspicions: that his little brother is absolutely a goner for you. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Carmy like this and he’s torn between feeling proud of his kid brother or pissed that the kid’s turning this around on him.

"Well, if you ever bothered to come home. You know mom's been askin' about you since you never fuckin’-,” Mikey roars, eager to relinquish the hotseat here.

“Oh don't bring mom into this!" Carmy protests.

It’s your voice that snaps him out of it—brings him back to earth as he hears you ask:

“Everything okay?”

Carmy can practically hear his heart pounding away in his ears; can feel the blood rushing through his head as he takes a deep breath. He swallows, takes a beat, then turns to you.

“Yeah uh. I think we should go,” he states, his voice uneven and tense as you try to get a read on either brother.

“Uh… yeah, I guess we can-, um,” you stammer out, wondering how things went from good to hell in a matter of minutes. Carmy mutters something about getting your stuff as you try your best to put the pieces together.

“It was uh, nice to meet you, Mikey,” you say softly, as soon as you get your coat on.

“Yeah. You too, sweetheart,” he nods, something distant in his voice. Carmen scoffs at his brother’s usage of the word before tugging on your arm.

You wait a beat, in anticipation of some kind of goodbye between the brothers, but there is none as you follow Carmy out of the bar.

—---------------------------------------

Halloween, again — in this lifetime:

When Carmy comes to, he can hear the faint sounds of an episode of Pasta Grannies in the background, uncertain of what time it is.

“Hey, you. You fell asleep on the couch and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” you say, as he begins to sit up. Carmy blinks his eyes a few more times, watching as you make your way from the kitchen island over to the couch, taking a seat at his feet.

“Did you still want to watch a scary movie? You know, in the spirit of the holiday?” you ask him with a soft chuckle.

All Carmy can remember before falling asleep was what he was thinking about: what it would be like if you had met Mikey. It’s something he thinks of often, especially as the two of you grow closer—as your relationship gets more serious—and it’s something he hates that he’ll never be able to give to you.

“This was his favorite holiday,” Carmy manages to get out, the sleep heavy in his voice.

You’re not all that surprised. Carmy’s been on edge lately and you assumed it was because Mikey’s birthday’s coming up. But this… this makes sense too.

“I wish I could’ve met him,” you smile, reaching out for one of his hands.

Carmy nods.

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah. Think he would’ve loved you.”

Maybe a little too much, he thinks to himself.

“You think so?” you ask with a vulnerability and a desire for reassurance that catches Carmy off guard.

He nods with much more confidence this time, offering you a soft, sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I know so.”

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azulock · 8 months

Text

you know, I wanted to properly write something as the first thing to post on this blog but I've been starved of free time recently so have an exhibitionist Oli drabble thing. I love this garbage man

summary. just Oliver being a shameless pervert who likes sending nudes, just casually

pairing. Oliver Aiku x Reader

wordcount. roughly 1k

warnings. nsfw (minors back off)

shameless Oliver Aiku who will send you a nude any time of the day if he can. without any warning what so ever. his excuses for sending the picture completely half assed. by this point you know not to open any image from him in public.

you are not even dating either, haven't even fucked. Oliver wanted, tho, and as far as he knew you did too. you met when he moved to Europe to play in the Ubers main team. you hit it off, exchanged messages but you were both always so damn busy. when you were free, he wasn't, it just never happened.

then you moved to another country. Oliver had to accept his luck was trash on this one. shit just never worked but you strangely kept in touch. texts ranging from funny to mundane to flirty with ease. it was entertaining at least. that's when he decided to try something.

it wasn't the first time he sent nudes. but it was the first time Oliver had sent a nude to someone he hadn't fucked before. someone he had no idea when (if) he even was gonna have a shot with again. but it could be something he does for fun. and to stroke his ego, of course.

he didn't straight up start with a nude, though. he worked his way up to that. first Oliver started with clothed but horny pictures. then he moved to the shirtless pictures. you had access to his instagram, so you were already used to his thirst traps, these steps were quick. then came the shirtless picture with a clear bulge.

honestly, that was pretty much gonna be the diving point. you could react badly and just cut him off then and there. he wouldn't be losing much - ok, he'd be losing something, you were pleasant to talk to, he'd come to enjoy your conversations. but he was already not expecting a big chance at a shot here. might as well have fun with it.

the first one Oliver sent you was after a training at his home gym - you seemed to like when he sent you a picture after training with the team, so it sounded like a safe bet. he was wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts, sitting on a bench before the mirror, sweat still clinging to his skin. one hand holding the phone while the other sat on top of his large thigh. right beside the long outline of his thick cock.

got some training done for the day

then it was a waiting game. tho, he didn't have to wait much. it didn't take even a full hour for you to respond.

nice shape. you got a gym at home or you just showing off to everyone? nah, got a gym at the apartment, I'm just showing off to you hmmmm an exclusive look. I like it ;)

now, that would do, that would do just fine. from then, it didn't take much for Oliver to grow bold. he went from shorts, to towel wrapped around his waist, and then to towel poorly held over his crotch with one hand. after that, of course, came the leap of faith.

wyd oliver you live on the other end of europe, no use wydoing me what? you think so lowly of me :'( can't I just wanna chat? when you lead with a wyd, no. what, you bored or something? yeah, been holed up indoors all day cause of a freak storm. world's falling over here oh poor oliver, the italian summer treating you badly? you afraid of a little rain? this ain't a little rain, this is a big ass storm. I'm gonna show it to ya

he sent you a short video, just a couple of seconds, enough to see a lighting strike crash somewhere off in the distance. the video was shot with the view of his floor to cieling window, from his 15th floor apartment. but aside from the storm raging outside there was the reflection of his bed on the window. and Oliver lying naked on it, lit only by the warm glow of his bedroom lamp, straining erection resting heavy on his lower abs.

as far as nudes go, that was a pretty damn good one, if Oliver could say so himself. pretty damn artistic even. he'd be praising himself for the rest of the month for thinking of using the reflection like that. damn smart of him.

well that sure does look pretty damn big and that storm is impressive too I guess

and that seals the deal, giving Oliver free range to be the shameless whore he is. after that he is fearless and far more obvious with the nudes he sends. not that he does it everyday, he doesn't want it to become boring, he knows the importance of balance - besides he does still enjoy just talking to you, it's just that now he got the added benefit of the ego boost every now and again. he likes showing off, you like seeing, what's the harm on that?

sure, he'd love to get you to send some nudes too - and the shameless bastard has asked for them before. but he gets why you wouldn't, Oliver isn't stupid. and having you praise his body is good enough. besides you give him the occasional thirst trap - nothing much riskier than the ones you post on instagram, but damn, it feels good getting sent them personally.

honestly, he likes this arrangement. sure he'd like to see more of your body but who knows, if he plays his cards right he might just get to see it up close at some point. but for now he keeps on sending nudes - happy with the freedom to indulge in his exhibitionist tendencies. and indulge Oliver does, already plotting a way to start sending you jerking off videos soon enough.

#oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #oliver aiku smut

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marvel-ous-m · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson’s Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (2/5)

Part One

Part Three

A.N.: Um... guys, WHAT?! The outpouring of love and support for a blurb I had sitting in my Notes app for the last two months has been absolutely wild. I’ve been writing for the better part of the last day, and this is now a ~7k, five chapter fic that I will be posting to Tumblr as well as my AO3. I can’t thank y’all enough for all of the support, and I hope you like where this is heading!

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

After Steve finished ranting about the middle schoolers he spent time with, Eddie launched into a description of the campaign he was working on for Hellfire. Steve listened intently as Eddie spoke, slowly making his way through Eddie’s sandwich and the bottle of water until both were finished. Eddie kept talking after Steve finished his food, distracting himself by going on a tangent about goblins in D&D. He was pulled from his rant at the sound of a soft thump- which, Eddie realized with surprise, was Steve’s forehead slumping down far enough to hit the tabletop.

Steve sat up almost immediately when his head hit the table, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

Eddie snorted at Steve’s antics, piling his books together. “Damn Stevie, I didn’t realize I was that boring.”

“Stevie?” Steve whispered under his breath, then shook his head, shooting a sheepish smile Eddie’s way. “You didn’t bore me- I liked it, really, I just-”

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie cut Steve off, smirking at him. “You don’t need to make excuses. No offense man, but you kinda look like shit, I can tell you haven’t been sleeping well. Speaking of which- why are you even here? You should probably be at home resting, not zombie-walking your way through a day of classes.”

Steve hummed at that, shrugging and resting his cheek on his palm. “S’better here than it is at home.”

Eddie frowned at that, his brow creasing. Steve had just told him a few minutes ago that his parents hadn’t been home in three months, and all of Hawkins knew he was the only child of the Harringtons. What was so bad about spending the day in a giant mansion that most definitely had central heating? Eddie would kill to spend these winter months in a house like that instead of under approximately fifty blankets (while somehow still freezing his ass off) in the trailer.

Steve breathed out a small puff of air, and Eddie noticed that his eyes had slipped shut in the minute-or-so that Eddie had been distracted by his internal monologue. Shit, Steve was really exhausted. Eddie sighed and stood, quietly loading his books into his backpack. After zipping up his backpack and pulling it onto his shoulder, Eddie gently shook Steve’s shoulder, wincing sympathetically. The last thing he wanted to do was wake Steve up, but Mrs. Boliene would have a fit if she saw Steve like this.

He was definitely not expecting Steve to practically jump out of the chair, or for his breathing to suddenly grow erratic, in response to being woken up. There was something in his eyes- a kind of fear that Eddie could only associate to something he saw in Wayne’s eyes after waking his uncle from a particularly bad nightmare.

Eddie held his hands up, taking a step back from Steve. “Hey- sorry, it’s just- Ms. Boliene can be kinda a bitch about people sleeping in the library. I know a place you can rest for a while if ya want. Let’s be honest, you probably aren’t going to be learning anything if you go to the rest of your classes today.”

Steve clenched his right hand a couple times- Eddie would file that particular coping mechanism away to ask about later- then nodded, his breathing (mostly) back to a normal pace. “Sorry about that. Yeah man, whatever you say.”

Eddie nodded, let his arms drop, then cleared his throat. “Right, just go ahead and follow me, King Steve.”

Steve sighed and stood with a wince, gathering the garbage from his (Eddie’s) lunch before following the other boy out of the library. He tossed the trash in the garbage bin outside the library then took a couple of long strides forward to catch up to Eddie. “Can you um- maybe, like… not call me that?”

“Sure thing, Steve-o. Here, hang a right.” Eddie turned down a hallway and Steve followed, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“That’s it?”

Eddie stopped walking when they reached the drama room door, shrugging. “Yeah man, that’s it. You don’t wanna be called something, I’m not gonna call you that. Nicknames are supposed to be fun, dude.”

Steve nodded in understanding, but his brow was furrowed- he was clearly deep in thought. Eddie stood there a moment, waiting for Steve to say something. When it became apparent that the jock was going to keep his thoughts to himself, Eddie smiled tightly and opened the drama room door, walking past the gaggle of students sitting together and eating lunch at the front of the room. He ignored their stares and walked to the back of the room to a set of double doors, which he opened and then led Steve through. “This is where Hellfire meets. You can lay down in the corner over there on the couch cushions and blankets. I set that up last year for my mid-morning, skip-P.E. nap time.”

Steve blinked in surprise, then turned to Eddie with a playful smirk. “Is that why you’re repeating this year? Slept through too much P.E.?”

Eddie chuckled at that. Harrington had some sass to him, huh? “One of the many reasons. What can I say, getting sweaty for some dumbass P.E. teacher just doesn’t agree with me.” ‘There are much better things to get sweaty for’, a distant voice in Eddie’s head whispered. Eddie pushed that thought away, shaking his head at himself. Harrington was not the kind of guy to think those kinds of things around.

Steve giggled to himself- honest to god giggled, it was quite possibly the best sound that Eddie had ever heard- then stepped into the room, taking in the variety of chairs surrounding the giant table and the various decorations on the walls. Suddenly, Steve’s playful smile disappeared, turning to a grimace. “Um, are you sure it’s okay for me to sleep here, Eds? Don’t you have Hellfire here later tonight? I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“Stevie, I promise it’s fine. You’ll probably be awake by the time we’re in here playing through the campaign anyways. Just don’t worry about it and get some rest, okay?”

Steve nodded, walking to the corner and sitting down on the cushions. Eddie smiled reassuringly at him from his place at the doorway, then waved goodbye to Steve. “I’m off to English and Chem. I’ll be back in about two hours, but I could lock the doors in the meantime?” Eddie pulled a lanyard out of his pocket, grinning. “Perks of being club president. I’m the only one with a key other than the drama teacher, and he never comes in here. I just figured- maybe you would sleep better knowing that no one can get in? You would be able to get out, obviously, but- y’know what? Maybe this is creepy, pretend like I didn’t say anything-”

“-Thank you, Eddie. I… would appreciate that.” Steve cut off Eddie’s (admittedly awkward) rant and punctuated his request with a yawn, scrubbing a tired hand over his face.

“Yeah, yeah of course dude, whatever you need.” Eddie stepped out and locked the door behind himself, then slumped his back against the door. Step One: Get Steve Harrington to Take Care of Himself, complete. Time for Step Two.

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

A.N.- tagging those who requested/insinuated a request, lmk if you’d like to be added/taken off the tag list.

@ellietheasexylibrarian @cuips-not-cute @melodymeddler @i-have-three-feelings @sc00ps-ahoy @singmeyoursimpsong @patchworkgargoyle @spectrum-spectre @devondespresso @thesuninyaface @obsessivlyme @angeldreamsoffanfic @carlyv @nburkhardt @inspirationorinsanity @rebelspykatie @my2amgaythoughts @lavenderagenda @just-a-tiny-void @mamafaithful @breadboi66 @beholdingloser @randomfandomcontent @oftirnanog @yellowdevilkitten @steves-strapcollection @keep-er-steddie

#stranger things #steddie #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #1984 steddie meeting au my beloved #stranger things fic #steddie fic #pre s4 #pre s4 meeting

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tyrantisterror · 5 months

Text

Saw Godzilla Minus One again and yeah, just as good if not better than I felt it was the first time.

But it does have me thinking - well, honestly, I've been thinking about this for a while - about how often critics of this series have bandied the argument that only certain Godzilla movies are "true to the spirit of the original," and others are not and thus are trash. It's always used as a way to not just praise the movie in question the critic is talking about, but to still paint most of the Godzilla movies as disposable garbage - which is really to protect the critic's status as an authority by emphasizing they do not challenge the popular assumption that Godzilla movies are by and large garbage, and instead only think certain Godzilla movies - a rare and specific few - managed to rise above their station as garbage to be worth something.

Godzilla (1985) is the only Godzilla movie to hold true to the spirit of the original.

Shin Godzilla is the only Godzilla movie to hold true to the spirit of the original.

Godzilla Minus One is the only Godzilla movie to hold true to the spirit of the original.

And I have... too many thoughts on this to put in a normal tumblr post, I should probably organize them into, like, an essay (god it's been ages since I actually wrote one of those, nowadays I just let myself ramble with only a thin grasp of a point). But this is bullshit, right? This is a bullshit thing that critics and especially fans, so many Godzilla fans do this. It's so fucking cowardly and pretentious, the act of a person without the bravery to truly stand up for art they love, a person who'd rather cover their own ass than be bold enough to fight for what others have ignorantly deemed trash.

Like, my feelings on Shin Godzilla are not negative - they're lukewarm, a "well it's not really for me but I get what they're going for" feeling. But so many people for so many years have held it up high and said, "Finally, a Godzilla movie that's not trash like all the other sequels, one that FINALLY lives up to the SPIRIT of the first, FLAWLESS, PERFECT FILM!" that I can't help feeling resentment for it, a sort of petty envy at how it is constantly held up so the people praising it can shit down on all the others that preceded it. I think I've been more harshly critical of it than I have most Godzilla movies specifically because so many people feel the need to praise it as flawless while shitting on the Godzilla movies that I like more - as if I need to find flaw in Shin Godzilla to prove my love for the others.

Which is cowardly too, in all honesty. We shouldn't need to burn one movie to praise another.

I love Godzilla Minus One. Objectively (or as objective as any critique I make can be) I think it's the best movie since the original, maybe even surpassing it (unlike the 1954 Godzilla, Godzilla Minus One has not jump cuts or other glaring editing mistakes caused by a rushed production time that didn't allow for proper film coverage). And while it may well be impossible to overcome nostalgia and topple the Holy Trinity of Godzilla sequels in my personal rankings, it might manage to fight its way into my top five Godzilla movies. It's an excellent movie, one of the best for sure.

...but people are ALREADY doing the "It's the first Godzilla movie that's true to the spirit of the original!" bullshit already, and specifically using it to tear Shin Godzilla down. I'm at least a little guilty of it - I mean, it was just an honest expression of my preferences, but still, there wasn't a need for me to express my lukewarm feelings on Shin while praising Minus One - and fuck, man, I already regret that.

It's a coward move. Fight for what you love even if people say you're cringe or uncultured for it. Fuck 'em, be the atomic freak you were born to be. You can't find your monster island if you don't.

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scoops-stevie-archive · 1 year

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i keep thinking about that one bachelor au post so here's my take on it (i've never watched the bachelor or bachelorette so bear with me)

they both think that steve is overrated and definitely over hyped. typical rich kid with enough money to buy people's love, yada yada.

until they both start going on dates with them and then realize that it isn't exactly true. yes, he's rich, but he's also kind and funny and actually genuine once you get past the mask he puts on for everybody. eventually, eddie and robin find themselves looking forward to their dates.

there's a knock on her room door and another text.

r u ok? can i come in?

she stares at the water in the toilet bowl when she comes out to him.

steve is quiet, processing, before he laughs. he's not laughing at her, he promises, but "robin. you're on a show with more than a handful of other queers, you know that, right? i'm bisexual."

and yeah, robin knew that, but it's different when you're not into the guy you're supposed to be romancing at all.

steve reassures her that it's okay, and that he still hopes they can be friends and keep in touch after the show ends.

robin would like that.

it's the best robin's ever been on.

hell, the very first day, he insulted the guy's food choices right to his face without knowing it.

eddie wants the earth to give way underneath him and swallow him whole.

he plays it up on their first date, all fake niceties and empty smiles, until steve tells him point blank, "the guy that said the buffet was shit that first night? i want to get to know him."

eddie's flabbergasted.

he tells eddie about what he wants to do with his life, not what someone else has planned for him and eddie falls deeper and deeper.

this time, when steve leans in for a kiss, eddie doesn't shy away. their lips press together and it's the best goddamn kiss either one of them have ever had.

the final night comes and the contestants have dwindled. there's only a small group of them left: eddie, robin, and another guy and girl they didn't bother learning the names of.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #platonic stobin #the three muskequeers #something something steve going on a tv show to find romance and ending up finding both his romantic and platonic soulmates #cj talks #prompts

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lizaluvsthis · 2 months

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SMG4: Trash Friends

Shit. Hello guys- I stole my phone and it is currently 4 am and I posted this (Because it's scheduled on queue)

I'm still not here but I managed to grab the phone out of the room, I can post for a bit. But then again, I wont be catching up to stuff while I'm at it.

Okay so- this video is about SMG4 needing that usb where michael jordan is n stuff to become popular.

SMG3 is needing that one to become popular as well so that his shop would be flooded by customers.

And then where it comes to needing stuff, they'd do literally anything for their 'friends' to get it.

SMG3 lied to him saying the business is running good, he just didnt want to face the problem in front of the protagonist that he's going downhill with running the business.

"I'm finally gonna get the attention I deserve, and prove to everyone YOU'RE THE WORST VERSION OF ME!"

This? This was his thoughts. This is how it speaks for him that is why he was afraid to show that to him.

After SMG3 told Mario he needs that usb for Fame and Love because SMG4 has too much of that. He knew how much important it is to him. He wanted the same love like how SMG4 has, he'd never had all the attention like how SMG4 had too. He was lost of himself.

Mario being the gullible idiotic man he is, he never complained to three about his speak of truth, he had comforted his friends especially meggy. Mario figured that Three had exposed his inner emotions, the most that he can do is just vomit that sh-t out.

Right after Three hid Mario from his hat, turns out he really does need shampoo. I mightve noticed that he'd been staying up late at night and doesn't shower because of his bad habits.

Sometimes depressed people mostly forgot to shower and just cope sh-ts to themselves like curling up to the bed and wallow in sorrow. And mostly they just hide that feeling. And I guess you might've noticed SMG4 did. Thats the reason why he searched that up from the internet.

He was THIS obviously close to reveal he had been concerned about Three because he stinks.

When SMG4 told three what the matter was, since the only thing he knew from him is that his business is doing fine. SMG4 thought that three wanted that fame all to himself, being the selfish one he knew back then.

After four told him "you're being selfish! All you ever think about is yourself! JUST. LET. GO!" the soft spot where SMG3 got his by the heart because of it.

He never wanted to go back to being how he wanted to be. He never wanted to show that whole destruction thing again from his ecil doings. This was the rrason why he ever wanted to change into a better person.

"OKAY!" "Okay...?" SMG4 noticed where Three easily surrendered himself, letting his guard down due to his anger.

He opened up.

"YEAH! I dont know what I was thinking! I'm doing fine! My shop is ALWAYS flooded with customers, I'm SO successful. Nobody is EVER throwing my coupons in garbage.

AND I DEFINITELY DON'T FEEL LIKE THE WORST VERSION OF YOU THAT LIKES TO PRETEND HE'S DOING FINE!"

HE said that to himself. When he thought he'd be the worst ever version of him, because he was supposed to be an antagonist. He was supposed to be SMG4's enemy, but he was also supposed to be partners with Four because they were both meme guardians.

SMG4 didn't knew. He always didnt know all of SMG3's antics because he thought Three also had everything to himself. But he didn't know he also felt like this, like Trash.

SO THIS GOES ON WITH THE MORAL. SMG4 noticing it just now is that he felt like TRASH. Because last time he'd ever notice is just Three wanting attention of how the golden child (aka SMG4) is when he gains that love and joy with everyone from meme warts.

Yet Three is there saying that to himself. He was there being open to Four and to Mario that he is struggling as well. His whole life, his financial issues, everything that meant to him. He popped the balloon and spoke the truth.

Four picked up the coupon, he was sad about this when he had finally just realized the whole sh-t of things. Sure four has done alot of wrong things but this? This is sick to his guts feeling bad for three...

Four looked at mario because he knows how valuable of a friend Mario is when dealing with emotions and open ups. And so- he got to the talk with three.

With all thats settled, SMG3 came back and fist bumbs Four to know that he's good now. What I also didn't expect is that three after using the usb, Four didn't even stop him. He looks at three with those softened eyes and just. Wow.

Four really wanted to show three his kindness, he was soft on him so he gave him a chance. He wanted three to be happy too.

#smg4 #smg34 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #lizafixates

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