#Bluetooth Speaker On Rent

[lightsounds]

Party Speaker on Rent — Elevate Your Event with Lightsounds Australia

Looking to elevate your next event with high-quality sound? Lightsounds Australia offers party speakers on rent that deliver clear, powerful audio for any occasion. Whether you’re hosting a birthday party, corporate event, wedding, or just a weekend gathering, we have the perfect speaker setup to match your needs.

Our extensive range of party speakers ensures that you’ll find exactly what you need to create an immersive sound experience. From compact portable options to larger, more powerful systems, we provide the right equipment to suit both indoor and outdoor settings. Our speakers are easy to use, reliable, and come with all necessary accessories like cables and stands, ensuring a hassle-free setup.

Lightsounds Australia is committed to helping you create unforgettable events. We pride ourselves on delivering top-notch equipment and excellent customer service, ensuring your event runs smoothly. Whether you’re a seasoned event planner or hosting your first party, our team is here to offer guidance and technical support every step of the way.

Ready to Get the Party Started? For Party Speaker Rentals, Contact Lightsounds Australia Today!

Contact us:

Website: https://lightsounds.com.au/

Phone: +61 2 9560 0300

Email: sales@lightsounds.com.au

Make Your Next Event Unforgettable with Lightsounds Australia, Your Trusted Partner for Party Speaker Rentals!

https://lightsounds.com.au/product-category/audio/

[omsaiestate]

Rent a bluetooth speaker for a day

Bluetooth Speaker Rentals in Mumbai by Om Sai Sound

Introduction

Are you planning an event in Mumbai and in need of a high-quality audio solution? Look no further! Om Sai Sound offers Bluetooth speaker rentals that are perfect for any occasion. With a wide range of options and competitive prices, we provide the best audio experience for parties, corporate events, weddings, and more.

Why Rent Bluetooth Speakers from Om Sai Sound?

Superior Sound Quality: Our Bluetooth speakers are equipped with the latest technology to deliver crisp, clear, and powerful sound.

Wide Range of Options: Whether you need a small portable speaker or a large, powerful system, we have a variety of models to suit your needs.

Affordable Pricing: Enjoy top-notch audio without breaking the bank. Our rental prices are competitive and designed to fit any budget.

Convenience: Renting a Bluetooth speaker is a hassle-free solution. No need to worry about storage, maintenance, or transportation. We take care of everything!

Perfect for Any Event

Our Bluetooth speakers are ideal for a wide range of events, including:

Parties: Keep the music flowing and the energy high with our powerful speakers.

Corporate Events: Ensure your presentations and speeches are heard loud and clear.

Weddings: Create the perfect ambiance with high-quality sound for your special day.

Small Gatherings: Enhance the atmosphere of any get-together with superior audio.

How to Rent a Bluetooth Speaker

Renting a Bluetooth speaker from Om Sai Sound is easy and straightforward. Here’s how:

Contact Us: Call us at 9819674832 to discuss your needs and get expert advice on the best speaker for your event.

Visit Our Website: Check out our range of Bluetooth speakers at Om Sai Sound.

Reserve Your Speaker: Once you’ve chosen the perfect speaker, make a reservation to ensure it’s available for your event date.

Enjoy Superior Sound: We’ll take care of the rest! Enjoy high-quality audio at your event without any hassle.

Why Choose Om Sai Sound?

Om Sai Sound is a trusted provider of audio equipment rentals in Mumbai. Here’s why our customers keep coming back:

Expertise: With years of experience in the industry, we know what it takes to deliver the best audio solutions.

Quality Equipment: We only use top-of-the-line speakers and ensure they are well-maintained and in perfect working condition.

Customer Service: Our team is dedicated to providing exceptional service and support. We’re here to help you every step of the way.

Flexibility: Whether you need a speaker for a day or a week, we offer flexible rental periods to suit your needs.

Customer Testimonials

Don’t just take our word for it – here’s what some of our satisfied customers have to say:

Rohit M.: “Renting a Bluetooth speaker from Om Sai Sound was a great decision. The sound quality was amazing, and the service was top-notch!”

Anita S.: “We rented a speaker for our wedding reception, and it was perfect. The team at Om Sai Sound made everything so easy. Highly recommend!”

Vikram R.: “Om Sai Sound provided us with a powerful speaker for our corporate event. The audio was clear, and everyone could hear the presentations perfectly.”

Contact Us Today

Ready to enhance your event with top-quality Bluetooth speakers? Contact Om Sai Sound today!

Phone: Call us at 9819674832 for more details and to make a reservation.

Website: Visit us at Om Sai Sound to browse our selection and learn more about our services.

[ronearoundblindly]

omg not me freaking out that i am part of the group that gets bait gifs! FRIENDS!!!!!!! i'm fine. i'm chill. don't leave me!

This took me a minute to figure out what I wanted Sir Dorksalot to have done that was sketchy enough to have him make this face...

Watch The Fish, Jake Jensen x reader headcanon wholeass fic in bullet format because my god this got long

Warnings for mentions of masturbation and porn, accidental then totally intentional voyeurism, awkward and oblivious!Jake--so just Jake, yeah?--and smutty implications...

🥹 roommates to lovers 😊

you rent a pretty large house maybe even with one or two others at first, but they move out

jake has to use it as a crashpad sometimes because he'll be away for so long at a time, but he pays rent and the entire electrical & internet bill no matter what

you keep a fish tank in the living room

after jake comes back from months in hiding abroad away, he gets so excited to be home and spend time with his niece that he hosts an after-game pizza party for her soccer team

someone practices headbutting the ball inside and nearly topples the tank

jake catches the whole thing with his broad arm-span and a decent amount of strength just in time when it wobbles the whole table beneath it. his heart nearly stopped, and he's so grateful the glass didn't break. thank god you weren't home.

however, you insist on moving the fish to your room instead once he tells you.

jake's a little sad to see them go. he pouts so much you decide to take pity on him, buying a web cam to mount beside the tank so jake can watch them whenever he wants. he loves to do voices for each one, personalities, soap-opera-like dramatic storylines, the works

as an aside you ask him if the sound can be turned off on the camera. jake says yeah but he mostly means he can turn it to mute on his computer.

which he does, for the record, but he has to remember to do it each time he pulls up the feed of da fishies. honestly, half the time he's wearing headphones and the other half you aren't home while he puts the Marauders (because there's just one fat one) onto his third monitor for background.

so he forgets that the sound is on and a thing he might need to avoid

weeks later, maybe months, jake finally removes his headphones after a very long stint of coding, completely unaware of what time it is and that you are home in your room

at first, jake is dead convinced that some porn ad has popped up in a window behind his work, something he would go apeshit about and ransomware bomb the shit out of whoever wrote such slippery spam

the fish are peaceful as ever, blooping away whilst jake frantically closes program after program trying to find the hot chick moaning on his desktop...until it's all closed and the buzzing remains though his tower's fan stopped...then the squelching noise starts

jake is frozen in place, looking away from the fish like they're the damn problem, but he doesn't cut the feed

he...he shouldn't

he should turn it off or just mute it like he promised

and he tries

he tries really hard, gang

it's the cursor's fault that it hits the command to send the audio to his bluetooth headphones instead of mute

and he sets the headphones down on the keyboard, gnawing on his bottom lip and watching his closed bedroom door in anticipation of...getting caught, maybe? he's not sure

he watches the fish putter around like it's no big deal

which it isn't, right?

you're human. he's human. humans have urges. they touch themselves--they touch each other, too--and there's no harm in that. if anything...jake encourages it, or he would...if you knew that he knew about this

the noises are so faint from the itty bitty speakers two feet from his face, but he doesn't pick them up, still debating what to do

because there's a big difference between what jake should do in this situation and what he wants to do

he mutes audio and then cuts off the livestream

at least, that's what he did the first time it happened

he knows he's a perv. jake can't help it.

it becomes a game of sorts. it's like practice recon for learning a target's routine. not that jake needs practice at the job he already fucking has but that's how his brain justifies laying on his own bed in the glow of the fish tank feed with his headphones turned way up

he knows your bed is on the other side of your room from when he moved the fish tank in

he knows what your underwear look like from the laundry room downstairs

he knows what you smell like from the shared bathroom and the products lining your shelf

he now knows there's a bottle of toy cleaner in one of your sink drawers

and he shouldn't but he absolutely touches himself listening to you, fists himself when you're fucking a toy he imagines six-shapes-to-Sunday, teases himself when all you're doing is breathing softly from across the whole house and he's cold and covered in cum by the end

to be fair, jake hates himself because of all this, but he is now mildly addicted

he doesn't even exit out of the livestream anymore. it just stays up on his monitor like a screensaver, but he doesn't realize that once he takes his headphones out of range, the audio transfers to his speakers again

so jake goes on a mission for a few days, and at some point while you are cleaning up your room, playing music, you find two pairs of jake's socks in your load of clean laundry and go to toss them in his room...where the same music you're listening to way down the hall is playing...in sync...

you're horrified and then embarrassed and then quickly realized it might mean nothing

you have to test if it means something

jake returns from his mission on complete autopilot

just so damn tired

throws down his duffle on top of some socks he doesn't remember leaving out and just hits the shower for a long, long time

he hasn't talked to you yet

he hasn't even seen you except your car is home and your door is shut

he goes about his business

the volume on his speakers isn't high but he hears you speaking and assumes you're on the phone

he pays it no mind. he is glad to be home, glad you're fine since he's just been in a part of the world where most people are not safe.

in a weird sort of way, he feels he's earned the mundane sort of comfort that comes from "the same ol'" of this house

he's wiped out, so he crawls into bed with his headphones immediately, hair barely toweled dry, not bothering with boxers because...why make more laundry?

and then the worst thing happens

there's a man's voice coming through his headphones, and jake scowls in frustration and rage

did you go and get a fucking boyfriend? in a couple of days? or goddamnit is this some tinder shit in his home right now?

but it only gets worse

he can hardly contain himself, what with the gagging sounds and this dude telling you to take it like the whore you are, and JAKE WILL LITERALLY BURN THIS PLACE DOWN

now his ass is putting on clothes

now his ass is ready to riot

the sex gets more and more degrading; spanking noises and even choking, but not in a seemingly consensual way, which is when jake rips his headphones off, storms down the hall and barrels straight through your bedroom door

where...you...aren't

no one is. no you. no man.

just your laptop sitting on your desk near the fish tank, playing the money shot of a porn video he was just listening to

get the fuck out. get out. get out. his brain screams, and he bolts

he makes it three feet before stopping short

you're standing at the top of the stairs, a bowl of ice cream in hand, licking the spoon unbelievably slowly with your whole tongue

you're fucked. you're fucked. you're fucked. his brain adds helpfully.

"hey, jakey," you say with a smile. "whatcha doing?"

A/N: this cat is officially my reaction to pretty much everything because...well...it's very accurate.

[Main Masterlist; Jake Jensen Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

THERE'S A SEQUEL!

[jamneuromain]

Stalker Lady pt. 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (You)

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warning: Mean!Simon Riley, Voice (PORN) actor!Simon Riley, patron!reader, neighbor!AU, description of audio porn and stalking behavior. bad language word people we're talking about audio porn here

Summary: You meet Simon unexpectedly. Unfortunately, he thinks you are a stalker.

A/N: This fic is my rehab-going-back-into-writing fic. And it's the first time I'm writing for "Ghost" I've honestly never played COD. But here's my idea of the scary (not really lol) simon ghost riley :3

After enduring your rented noisy flat for nearly six months, the construction of your new house is finally completed, which is a total relief. You now have a house of your own.

It’s a small place in the suburbs, with a handful of neighbors on the same block, and a decent lawn that you need not pay too much attention to besides mowing occasionally. More importantly, the quietness.

You’ve settled for this house because of the friendly neighbors and the quietness around the place. Most houses are properly wrapped up in thick walls and heavy planks so no noises would escape. The only sounds that constantly appear from outside of the window are the birds chirping and the laughs and talks from family and friends.

This.

This is the perfect place for you.

You met the Pinewood Residential Community Committee (Really? A community committee? You could be in tears) the day you moved in. A group of five that consisted of three of the actual committee and two of your neighbors. The house to your right lives a delightful family whose wife Sarah came to visit and brought you homemade cookies. The house to your left harbors a tall silent man called Simon who has dark circles under his eyes (You doubt the house was enough for him because he looked like a Tall-nut that could poke through the roof). Most of the time he just nodded to whatever the rest of them were chatting about. He gave you a brand-new Bluetooth speaker about the size of your palm, saying that it might come in handy if you want to play music without carrying your phone around the house.

You were grateful.

For the committee. For the friendly neighbors. For the speaker, even.

Until the day you decide to try this speaker out.

Present day, today, this very hour, you have been fighting with this unruly speaker.

You have pushed buttons. Connecting it to the charger and unplugged it twice. Flipped the on/off switch. Turned the volume thingy at the top to the maximum. Turned up the phone volume, too.

Nothing.

No sound coming out.

While your phone mocks at you by showing you that you have already connected it and no sound is coming out.

You googled, searched, and tried reading the instructions, but nothing helped.

You sigh. Snatch the speaker and the small piece of paper with instructions and head to your neighbor’s place.

Simon is just finishing up his work for today.

It’s not a job, per se, but trades his time and patience for some of the allowances.

Actually, scratch that, he has been making more from this not-job job than spending time in the military, which says something.

He has been considering making this job a little permanent, aside from his part-time work to deliver posts and mails.

He starts the day early, driving his van to the local post office, loading the bunch of stuff onto his backseat, and finishing driving around the blocks at around 1 pm. Works a little on his side job, goes to bed at 9 or 10, simple as that.

He leaves the recording room of his house, only pausing his steps to the showers when he hears something coming from his living room…?

He heads back to the recording room, making sure his laptop is turned off, his phone is on airplane mode (which has stayed that way for a while, he must add, to prevent it from interrupting his recording), and his iPad certainly has not connected to his Bluetooth. Which is … odd?

Because why is one of his recordings playing on his Bluetooth speaker?

Simon winces at his own grunts and moans from the speaker. He’s not particularly proud of it, okay, that he is a member of an audio porn production team. He takes time recording himself reading various scripts of monologues that end up taking the imaginative figure of a woman to bed.

Yes, he records himself twice a week.

Yes, he makes male-for-female porn.

Yes, he never shows his face and has a silly stage name called “Ghost”.

Yes, he does (very occasionally) custom-made fan audio for those generous patrons.

Yes, this is a custom-made audio playing on his Bluetooth – wait what?

A few soft knocks land on his door before he can comprehend what mystical force is toying with his speaker.

“Brilliant.” He grumbles to himself under his breath, “Fucking brilliant.”

Now he has another thing to tend to besides figuring out his haunted speaker.

He turns the volume down, shoving the small gadget into the sofa cushions before it can be haunted again.

Opening the door.

And there you are.

“Oh! Um, hi!” You are stepping down the porch, thinking that he must be busy, but the noise of the locks startles you a little, turn around to see your neighbor Simon, “Hi, I live next door. Uh, I moved here about a week ago?”

Cute.

He thinks to himself.

Technically, his first impression was supposed to be a week ago when he visited your place for the first time, but he missed his nap time so the thirty minutes spent there consisted of him keeping himself awake – hardly, more like keeping his head straight and eyes open, which he failed, for at least a dozen times or so.

Rude. He knows. But he is not the kind of social butterfly either, so you kinda get what you deserve by moving in next to him.

“Yeah.” He grunts, his mind still on the fucking Bluetooth, “Wha’d you need, luv?”

“I think this speaker is … I don’t know what’s wrong with it, it just … no sound coming out of it.” You chew on your lower lip sheepishly, “Would you mind helping out, please?”

“Tried to dial the volume on your phone louder?” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, I did, I-” You fumble with your phone, giving him a moment to look at the speaker under your arm.

One glance at the Bluetooth speaker in your hand, same brand, same model, but different color, connects the dots for Simon in his mind.

It is obvious as daylight that you accidentally connected to his speaker.

“I’ll try turn it up-” You push the buttons on the side of your phone, turning the volume up to the loudest.

And a guttural groan comes from his couch.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweet’art.” His couch moans loudly, “You’re killin’ me with that sweet cunny-”

Simon acts quickly, yanks you inside the house by the arm, and slams the door shut.

“That’s my speaker.” He says, quietly.

Your stupid fingers finally manage to turn the volume down. You completely forgot about the audio playing on your phone – your favorite audio, the one you have listened to and cummed to for at least a handful of times. Your face instantly goes aflame. You were planning some quality time with your toy, but not this! You are not connecting to your neighbor’s speaker and standing at his doorstep!

The deadly silence is eating you up.

“Um. Guess it’s not … wrong?” You let out a dry chuckle, your mind a puddle of jellyfish that zaps your neurons into firing the wrong sparks, “I’ll, um, go upstairs – my home, my place, I mean. Thank you for tonight.” Your face scrunches together out of sheer embarrassment.

His iron grasp on your arm is unwavering.

He has some patrons online, but the fact that you are one of them and live next door is … a bit too much of a coincidence.

“You a stalker or wha’?” He growls at you. His eyes flash a dangerous glint as he recalls what had happened to one of his friends, John, with the stage name “Soap”. Soap works with Simon in the small group of audio porn production called “Team 141”. Soap was careless about his whereabouts, leading to a crazy woman piecing together information and ambushing him when he gets home from his day job.

“Wha- what?” You sound completely baffled. “What are you even talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, sweet’art. Doesn’t work like ‘at.” Simon eyes at the now-silent speaker on his couch, before returning his gaze to your startled expression, which is indeed fright, but for different reasons than he’d think of – the fear of being found that you stalked to his house. “Peachy? Peach? ‘s that your Discord name? Coz this is a specialized piece, custom-made. An’ I made it myself.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. Your Discord name is indeed, Peachyyy,with two extra Y, and it hits you that this man you are confronting, who is confronting you, might be the one who sent this audio as a special gift to you, their patron.

Every patron for the Team 141 could designate a voice actor for their custom-made audio. When you were notified that you could also participate in deciding the actor of the audio, without a second to stop and think, you chose your favorite one of “Team 141”.

“Ghost”.

Simon “Ghost” Riley let out a cold smirk. He believes he has this all figured out.

“I won’t report you. Not yet. But if I find you ten feet within my vicin’ty,” His teeth bared, sharp canines ready to rip something apart, throat rumbling like a true animal, “I’ll get your pretty arse locked up and thrown into jail. Run along now, stalker lady.”

Monster! You shriek. Or perhaps that’s a pitiful whimper under his massive shadow, and flee from his grasp.

Part 2

[werepuppy-steve]

if i ain't got you

steddie | wc: 1,425 | cw: none | songfic | ao3

have some hurt/comfort, cj style. happy thanksgiving even though it's already 1am my time <3

The kitchen is so thick with tension you could cut right through it like butter. Eddie’s washing the dishes and Steve’s putting away the leftovers from dinner. They haven’t spoken a word to each other the entire night, not since that afternoon when they were screaming at each other.

Other people would say that they don’t remember what or who started the argument in the first place, but Steve knows exactly what happened. All because he let his dumb mouth get ahead of his brain. And it’s not like he hasn’t tried to apologize—he tried the second the words left his mouth and then five more times after that but Eddie wasn’t having any of it.

Which is fine, he’s allowed to stew in his hurt feelings for as long as he likes, but Steve is worried that this might be the first time they go to bed with one of them still mad, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that.

He shuts the fridge and turns around to lean against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, letting out a quiet sigh. Eddie’s back is turned to him so he can only see the movement of his shoulders as he scrubs the dishes harder than he ought to.

He’s still pissed, then.

Steve lets out a quiet sigh. He’s the one that started this whole mess so he’s got to be the one to fix it. He needs to come up with something to get Eddie to at least look at him.

He stands there for a few more minutes as he thinks but then the light bulb in his brain flicks on and he leaves the kitchen.

Eddie’s probably washed this bowl three times already but he doesn’t care. He’s still worked up from his and Steve’s fight earlier, he could drop the bowl and it could shatter in the soapy water and he wouldn’t even blink an eye.

How dare he, Eddie thinks bitterly, rinsing the soap off and placing the bowl in the dish drainer a little harshly. How dare he think he has the right to even insinuate.

All he wanted was to spend the extra little bit he’d had left over from his paycheck on some new mini’s he’d seen down at the bookstore and a couple of books that had been on his list for ages. He made sure to put back enough to cover his half of their rent and bills. He was careful.

But Steve still had to go and open his stupid rich boy mouth.

Eddie feels the familiar prickle of white hot anger on the back of his neck and he takes a deep breath to calm himself. It’s not his fault that he grew up poor. Wayne did what he could to support the both of them on his single paycheck every month, but that money only went so far. There wasn’t enough to spare to open an account with the bank, so they just went without.

Unlike the Harrington’s, who apparently had accounts open across multiple cities and even a couple overseas.

Steve’s father had drilled the importance of wealth management into him from an early age and made him use his first allowance to open a savings account at the age of ten. His boyfriend had a goddamn retirement account by the time he was eighteen.

So when Steve goes and assumes that Eddie doesn’t know how to handle money just because he wants to splurge for once and buy something he enjoys, Eddie thinks that his anger is a little more than justified.

Eddie’s eyes sting with oncoming tears and he blinks them away with a shake of his head. He doesn’t need to cry right now.

As he reaches for another dirty plate, music suddenly fills the kitchen from the Bluetooth speakers on the counter, soft piano trilling and the melodic humming with an R&B beat.

He freezes when arms slowly circle his waist from behind and Steve rests his chin on his shoulder.

Some people live for the fortune

Some people live just for the fame

“Dance with me,” Steve murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie suppresses a shiver and the instinct to lean back into him. “I don’t-”

“Eddie.”

Another kiss, this time under his ear. Fingers gently trace along his arm.

Some people think

That the physical things

Define what’s within

Eddie’s walls crumble like sawdust when Steve laces his fingers between his own soapy ones. He lets Steve pull him away from the sink and they slowly sway in the middle of their kitchen. He can see straight into the living room, where they’ve already set their Christmas tree up in the corner by the window, fully decorated even though it’s still November. They’ve got a hodgepodge of decorations and knick knacks already set on various shelves and tables with Christmas lights strung in almost every doorway.

As they dance in a slow spin, their cheeks pressed together, Eddie thinks back to how much fun they had setting all of it up. How Steve held the mistletoe above his head every chance he got just to be able to kiss him. All of his remaining anger slowly melts away and he’s left with the overwhelming feeling of how much he loves this man.

Some people want diamond rings

Some just want everything

But everything means nothing

If I ain't got you, yeah

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, and he sounds like he means it. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, when I said you should be more responsible. You were right. It’s your money and you’re the only one who gets a say in how you spend it.”

Eddie sighs and tightens his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, too. I got defensive, but I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did. I should’ve listened to you when you tried apologizing the first time.”

Some people search for a fountain

Promises forever young

Some people need three dozen roses

And that's the only way to prove you love them

Eddie pulls back a little and looks at Steve for the first time in what feels like ages and is flooded with emotions that make his chest tighten when he sees the soft smile on his boyfriend’s face and the love in his eyes.

Eddie cups his cheek and leans in to press a soft kiss to his equally soft lips before resting his head on Steve’s shoulder with a soft sigh.

Some people want it all

But I don't want nothing at all

If it ain't you, baby

If I ain't got you, baby

“Are we really slow dancing to Alicia Keys?” he asks after a moment. Steve shakes with silent laughter and Eddie gently smacks him in the shoulder. “It’s a serious question, Stevie. I need to know if it’s a contender for our wedding playlist.”

It’s Steve’s turn to freeze now and Eddie can’t hold back his giddy smile when he pushes him back by the shoulders and gives him a wide-eyed look.

“Wedding playlist?”

“Well, I was planning to wait until Christmas to pop the question, but. Yeah. I even got a ring.”

Steve gapes at him like a fish before yanking him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt. It’s more teeth than lips because they can’t stop laughing long enough, but they eventually get a hold of themselves when Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s neck again and presses close, thier lips slotting together seamlessly.

“So I take it that’s a yes?” Eddie asks between kisses.

Steve nips at his bottom lip. “Only if you learn to stop kicking your socks off in your sleep and leaving them under the covers at the end of the bed.”

“They twist around my toes, Stevie,” Eddie pouts, trailing kisses along Steve’s jaw. “Makes ‘em feel like pigs in a blanket.”

Steve tilts his head back to give him more room, the music completely forgotten. “Then don’t wear them to bed at all.”

“But then my feet will get cold. Do you want me to put my icicles on your legs, Steven? Would that make you feel better?”

Steve throws his head back for a completely different reason and groans. “You’re going to be even more difficult once we’re married, aren’t you?”

Eddie grins against Steve’s throat. “Absolutely, oh husband of mine.”

Some people want diamond rings

Some just want everything

But everything means nothing

If I ain't got you, you, you

permanent taglist:

@yournowheregirl @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @vecnuthy

@tboybuck @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual

@theheadlessphilosopher @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie

@corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd @sidekick-hero @simplebtromance

@tangerinesteve @stevesjockstrap @steddie-island @spectrum-spectre @pearynice

@worstsequence @devondespresso

[cockdestroyer32]

all mine

tangerine x fem!reader

word count: 2304

summary: after the events in the bullet train in tokyo, you and ladybug have a new job in a new place, unfortunately, you're not alone.

a/n: okay so in this reader's codename is sarin. and you're besties w ladybug bc I lov him. title is from brent faiyaz's 'all mine' which has nothing to do with this fic but I didn't know what to name this and I rlly love that song so. also no smut in this.

When I grow up, I wanna be famous I wanna be a star, I wanna be in movies, when I grow up I wanna see the world, drive nice cars, I wanna have groupies.

The song blew out of the car’s speakers, and both you and Ladybug sang each word perfectly (and very obnoxiously, you were practically yelling out the lyrics.) He drove and you sat in the passenger seat, you both swinging your arms around dancing tirelessly as the citizens of Greece who were able to spy inside the moving car judged your shameless partying. You hadn’t seen Ladybug in months, so when you found out you were finally going to be assigned to a mission together again, you both beamed, and got together to plan your entire trip from the cities of New York to the city of Larissa. You went from cackling a little too loudly at comedy movies on the plane, to endless chatter at the airport, to listening to your iconic super duper awesome 2000s hits playlist on a rented Jeep (the playlist title was Ladybug’s decision.) There’s no one you’d rather work with. Except…you weren’t working alone tonight. 

This hit wasn’t just any hit, it was a stakeout. So, Lemon and Tangerine were called. 

You had walked into Tangerine a few times before; New Zealand, Cuba, Romania, and Tokyo, of course. You’d been the longest with him while in Tokyo, when you had to team up because of a lost briefcase. He was incredibly irritating and the different ways you both did your job clashed immensely, but by the end of the night you two had worked frustratingly well together. 

You’d never met Lemon before though, you hoped to God he wasn’t just a Tangerine 2. 

“Oh, boo!” Ladybug starts and you join him when you look up.

“Booo!” You yell out at the warehouse as if it’s just told some awful joke at a stand-up show.

The building has the same architectural creativity as a cardboard box. Except that instead of brown, it’s grey and dirty, and instead of holding a gift you just spent the last days waiting anxiously to arrive at your home, it just holds the next gruesome hours you’ll spend planning your hit.

You and Ladybug allow The Pussycat Dolls to finish the last few seconds of their song and turn off BlueTooth before you can be sad about not singing Britney.

You sigh and say, “It’s gonna be a long night.”

“Yep, but the sooner we do it sooner we’re done. Come on, let’s meet the fruit duet.” You chuckle.

The warehouse acted as a lighthouse, the nighttime a sea of nothingness. You can spot the remnants of the trucks that passed by in this area marked in the muddy ground. Tonight smells of wet grass and fancy dinner parties, the ones you should be in right now.

You enter the warehouse, the night’s cold air vanishes and it shifts to a warm, still atmosphere. You take off your coat. Tangerine and two other men are already in the room. Even at such a dead spot in town, Tangerine is still dressed elegantly, sporting a blue striped suit that fitted him perfectly, and smelling of rich men’s perfume. You often wondered if he could fight in those suits. Although you loved a good luxurious suit—God knows your blood money could buy one, your closet was full of Versace, Vivienne Westwood, Dolce & Gabbana and Burberry—you preferred to wear more tactical outfits for the job, you know, in case someone fucked something up and everything went to shit.

“That’s Lemon, by the way.” Ladybug whispers to you, while pointing his head to the man standing in front of Tangerine.

“What? I thought they were supposed to be twins,” Ladybug shrugs.

“Um, I hope we’re not late…you’re Lemon I suppose?” You pretend like Ladybug didn’t just tell you and offer a handshake. He takes it.

“That’s right, and you’re...”

“Sarin.”

You look over to his brother.

“Tangerine.” A nod, no handshake.

“Sarin.”

“You’ve met Ladybug.” You say to the two brothers.

“Yes, we had the pleasure.” The taller man doesn’t hide the sarcasm.

“Accommodating as always, Tangerine.”

“So, shall we?” Says the other man in the room, the one who was managing this whole thing, and you all follow him.

He takes you to a desk where there lie multiple files on different workers and a big map layout of the warehouse. The man shows all of you the place, discussing what approach the team should take for the mission, at what time each one should arrive at the building, the shift times of each warehouse worker, the spots each one should be in…and so on and so forth. Time passes relatively quickly, demanding you and Ladybug a secret high-five, and you all turn to look at the man who’d organized this.

“Yeah. That’s it.” The man repeats.

“Yeah.” You agree, still looking at him.

“You can go home now.” He practically demands.

“Uhh, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to get paid now,” Lemon adds.

“You’ll get paid after you get the job done.”

“Did you not get the memo lad? We get first half now and second half after the job is done.” Tangerine said.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to get paid now, didn’t our handler message you?” You asked honestly.

“Well I didn’t bring the money, so what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, but we’re getting paid.” Tangerine insisted.

“There are lots of ATMs in Larissa…” Ladybug spoke. The man mutters some curse word under his breath,

“Fine. I’ll get you your fucking money, but you’re gonna have to wait.” He disappears from sight, making his way up the stairs in the corner of the building.

“Damn, what a Gordon.” Lemon remarks.

“Thomas the Tank Engine?” You ask.

“Yeah.”

“Nah, I think he’s more of a James, just super cocky.”

“Oh my God, there’s two of them.” Tangerine sighs.

“I’m gonna go get some air.” You say.

With your coat in hand, you make your way to a backdoor on the side of the warehouse. Slipping the garment on as soon as you open it, the chilly air cutting through your skin. You slide your hand into one of the coat pockets, finding a small rectangular box and a smooth metallic item. You fish one of the cigarettes out of the box and light it, inhaling the nicotine, warming your body while letting yourself freeze in the moment. You were so far out of town that you couldn’t hear any of the cars, any of the people in Larissa, your team also seemed to be particularly quiet inside the building. Here, it was silent, save for crickets chirping in the vast nothingness that was the field at nighttime. Tomorrow it’d be full of people, receiving and delivering new packages, trucks coming and going and workers arguing amongst each other, all their chatter overlapping, sounds of life, until you all arrive and the sounds of an active workplace morph into that of an action movie, slashing and yelling (no guns, this was supposed to be a somewhat subtle and more practical job) and then, nothing. The building once again ghost quiet, but this time painted red. 

It didn’t bother you. You’d been in this business for way too long to be perturbed by the sounds of the dead now. You knew what you were getting yourself into from the beginning, this is no bombshell. Although the still of a city that’s beginning to fall asleep is much better than one that had its commotion ripped away from it. So you took these quiet moments you had to yourself and held them tightly in your hand, like some old trinket gifted to you by someone special. And for a few moments, as you exhaled the smoke out of your body, you felt outside of space and time, frozen in the moment, your feet planted on the ground, scared that if you move even an inch, you’ll fall off the face of the earth. You melt off the moment when you feel a pair of eyes on you.

Tangerine stands by the back door on your right, looking at you. You’re not sure how long he’s been there, but he has a calm look on his face, a smile on his eyes but not on his lips, by far much different than all of the ticked-off facial expressions you’d seen on him before.

“The fuck are you looking at?” You tease.

“Geez. I’ve just come to get some air.” He walks in your direction. You offer him your cigarette, he takes it. You two breathe together for a while before you ask,

“Do you like this?”

“What? Jobs in the middle of nowhere handled by some fucking dickhead who can’t even pay us right?”

“No. This.” You look around, motioning slightly to your surroundings, “The quiet. We don’t get a lot of it in our job.”

“I suppose we don’t,” He passes the cigarette back to you. “It is kinda nice, I can hear my thoughts for once, don’t have to listen to Lemon yapping about.”

You snort. “He’s nice. I was scared he was gonna be like you.”

“What? I’m nice.”

You stare at him.

“How am I not nice?” He continues.

“How are you not nice? Okay let’s see, you’re impatient, you’re always irritated, you look like you’re constantly on the edge of throwing a fit, you’re always cursing people out and you always got that look on your face of a teen girl who just got her phone taken away by her parents.”

He takes this in for a second, surprised at the speed of your answer, as if you’d been waiting for this moment for a while, and maybe you were.

“Hm…still think I’m nice.” He adds, you smile to yourself, nodding your head in fake disbelief.

You can feel his eyes on you, even as you take another puff on your cigarette and stare at the darkness. You don’t look back, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“S, Fruit, guy’s back.” Ladybug pops out of the door, and you follow him back into the building, followed then by Tangerine. 

The man now holds bags of money, one for you and Ladybug, and one for Lemon and Tangerine. You finally leave the warehouse, each of you making your way to your hotel rooms. And you would’ve been able to wash the night off your body and rest on the hotel’s comfy bed, if it wasn’t for the misplaced amounts of money. See, your bag and Ladybug’s held only his share, not yours. Thankfully, it wasn’t some scam, your money was placed along with Lemon and Tangerine’s. So, now you’re going up an elevator to Tangerine’s room to get your share. You knock on 215 and he opens the door.

“Hey.”

“Hey, come in.” You walk into the room, but only close the door slightly, not shutting it, and you stand next to it, ready to just get your money and leave, not expecting to stay here any longer than you have to. He goes to the back of the room and brings back a bag, “Here.”

“Thanks,” You spy inside the room, the place is quiet, most of the lights are off and it holds only one bed. “Is Lemon not here?”

“No, different hotel, leave no trail and such.”

“Oh.” You’re genuinely surprised. Shit, that’s smart, perhaps you and Ladybug aren’t as great professionals as you thought you were—even if the bar when you two worked together was already pretty low.

“What? Is me delivering your money instead that bad?”

You snort. “No, no, that I don’t mind.”

You look at each other for a second, perhaps you should be on your way-

“Are you staying in Greece after the job?”

“Uh, no. Me and Ladybug are going back to New York right after.”

“Oh.” He looks down, the expression on his face something you can’t quite read. “Are you and Ladybug…”

“No! God, no!” You almost yell. “No, he’s my best friend.”

“Oh, right.”

“Why?”

“Just…curious.”

Hm. Curious. 

You stare at each other again, a smile on your eyes but not on your lips.

“Okay, I should get going.” You start opening the door to leave.

“Wait,” He says, grabbing your arm. “I think…you should stay here the night.” 

The smile reaches your lips, amused. “Why?”

“You know, you could just stay here the night, if you want…”

“Okay but, why?” You tease. He furrows his brows. “I’m sorry Tangerine, I just don’t know what you’re telling me.” Your words are of someone genuinely confused, but your face and tone tell a different story. He catches on and sighs.

“I’m just saying…you could spend the night here, with me.”

You click your tongue, “Tangerine…you have to speak clearly.”

He squeezes your arm, and approaches his face to yours, changing his tone, “Sarin. I want you to stay. I want you.”

You let your lips fully curve up this time, pleased.

You put both your hands on his face, and close the space between you, only placing a light kiss on his lips, then pulling away to see his reaction. He keeps his eyes shut for a moment, as if still in the moment. Then, he opens his eyes, staring at you for a second, and pulls you in for a stronger kiss. His hands at first cupping your face, then one makes his way towards you back, pulling you in closer, even though you were already as close as you could possibly be right now. You shut the door with your foot behind you, not letting each other go for even one second. Tonight your own bed’s gonna have to wait for you.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Going Stupid

Peter Parker x plus size reader

Peter’s roommate is driving him up the wall

Warnings: reader is kind of a bimbo and kind of based on Elle Woods, implied smut, Peter kind of hates her but not really, swearing

WC: 676

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

Peter groaned as he entered the small two bedroom apartment he was currently renting. The walls were vibrating with the force behind your Bluetooth speaker as you listened to your current hyper-fixation song. It was never his choice in the first place to have you, the bubbly underclassman studying fashion, as his roommate but when rent was jacked up, he was forced to take in the first willing person he could find.

And now he was stuck with you. You were ditsy and unorganised, he couldn’t hold an intelligent conversation with you unless it was the history of polka dots and worst of all you were drop-dead gorgeous. 

It was more often than he cared to admit that he would storm off to take an extra long shower to relieve himself after coming home to you wearing practically nothing as you waltzed about the apartment. He constantly chastised himself for it. He should be attracted to women like MJ, smart, intelligent women who he could actually engage with. But no, he was stupidly falling for you.

And he just couldn’t handle that today, not after a long day in the lab followed by hours of boring lectures. You were dancing around the kitchen, donned only in panties and a tight pink tank top. There was a smear of flour across your full cheek and your lips stained with chocolate frosting. Peter’s brown eyes dropped to your tits which were moving freely, unencumbered by a bra. There was a dollop of the sugary icing on the smooth expanse of your skin. Oh how he wished to lick it off of you.

“Petey! You’re home!” He cringed at the sound of your voice, replying with a half-hearted, “Yeah I am”, as he dropped his backpack on the small bench by the door. He kicked off his shoes, wincing as his sore heels came into contact with the cold flooring.

“You know Peter, you should get some inserts for your shoes. I noticed you had high arches like months ago and I was like that’s so cool cause I have high arches too and I never meet anyone with high arches. I get my shoes custom ordered for my feet cause they hurt a lot if I walk too much and I mean a lot! Like that time I was at that club with-“ Your voice became a blur of white noise as Peter was hypnotised by the way your plump body moved gracefully through the small kitchen. 

The tank top clung to you like a second skin, accentuating each and every dip of your curves. His brown eyes, slowly growing darker with lust, now dropping down even further to where your shirt ended, leaving a strip of your belly exposed above your white panties. The cotton cupped your mound so snuggly that he could see the texture of the dark thatch of hair resting on the base of your pelvis through the fabric. The cellulite on your legs were like the perfect dents for his fingertips to rest and Peter couldn’t imagine how safe and warm your thighs would be around his hips. 

“Can you put on some clothes? I can’t concentrate.” Your mouth snapped shut with an audible click and he could practically feel the way your skin blazed with embarrassment. He watched you glance down at your outfit, suddenly becoming self-conscious.

Peter clicked his tongue and with a surge of confidence he didn’t know he had, he strode across the apartment and grabbed you by your wide hips. “I can practically hear your thoughts from here. You’re too damn sexy, it makes me go stupid.”

“You’re not stupid Petey.” You mumbled while doing everything in your power not to make eye-contact. He tutted and gently cupped your chin with his left hand, guiding your face towards him.

“I like it though, princess. It makes me mad sometimes though.”

“Why?” You nuzzled into his hand. Peter smirked and his grip tightened, making you gasp.

“Cause if I go too dumb, who’s going to fuck you even stupider.”

Request: oooooh how about Peter Parker, maybe a roommate au/ best friend? and the prompt going like “Can you put on some clothes? I can’t concentrate.” “I can practically hear your thought from here.” and something ike that? I leave it upto u, but a hate/mean thingy I feel like would rly add to it (as typically Peter would *never*) also fro which Peter- its rly ur choice, but Andrew and tom are my fav (sorry toby baby) ofc its just a request but I hope u do something! I love ur work congrats on 3k! &lt;3 @my-fabulousness-has-arrived

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[nevermorgue]

Hii!

I'm wondering if you have some misfits platonic headcanons, for example I have a headcanon that in modern au Lenore, Pluto and Duke would have rent a flat together;

Something like that ;)

oh i’m so on board. i got you anon. modern au time.

- morella and eulalie play a lot of minecraft together. morella only uses the cherry blossom wood and eulalie likes to make exact replicas of everyone’s houses. it’s mildly concerning how accurate she gets them, even the colors of the closet walls.

- berenice can and will jumpscare children on halloween. lenore joins her. they accidentally get pluto at some point and he screams so loud that duke continues to make fun of him a month later

- morella encourages all of them to use her makeup whenever they want. she also loves doing eyeshadow on pluto. it took him a while to get comfortable with it but now he finds it relaxing

- berenice and duke are the ones to come up with stupid ideas for tiktoks that usually involve at least one person getting a stupid injury

- eulalie starts a pillow fort hierarchy. cats rule the land, and of course pluto is king.

- whenever lenore is playing piano, the others start roleplaying a royal ball sort of deal by slow dancing with each other and speaking in posh accents. it’s absolutely ridiculous

- they go to glow in the dark mini golf and make it a competition. whoever comes in dead last pays for doordash that night (it’s usually pluto. dude doesn’t have depth perception. but someone always slips him an extra few dollars into his pocket.)

- eulalie tried to summon a spirit in lenore, duke, and pluto’s apartment. she says she didn’t succeed, but duke insists there’s something. but he is very dramatic, so maybe it’s nothing!

- pluto will sleep until noon if nobody wakes him. the methods to get him up have gotten more and more creative as time goes on. currently, it’s blasting Malice Mizer on a bluetooth speaker

- berenice and lenore do that zip line thing that drops you a million feet on a harness. eulalie wanted to go too but she had work :( everyone else flat out refused to try. yes even duke

- duke insisted it was because he didn’t want to because of a ‘mild stomach ache’ but he’s a fucking liar

- they’ve definitely done that trend where they all buy each other really stupid t shirts and then go to a restaurant wearing them

- eulalie is really bad at keeping surprises a secret. she’s usually not let in on it until the very end because she’s just. bad.

- eulalie and duke try too hard during karaoke. and they always do duets. anything from frozen usually-

[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 31

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

The passing of time began to heal the wounds that had been bestowed on you and Joel. Despite some initial reluctance, you agreed to talk to a therapist about being kidnapped by Vic and all that took place before and after. Joel had talked you into it, and agreed to go, himself.

By the summer, you felt almost back to normal; and those wounds turned into scars. Never forgotten, but no longer the focal point of your pain.

You passed the last of your practicals and exams. The final course you finished that summer and by the fall you had your nursing degree as planned.

It was October 1st when you handed your three closest girlfriends your last lump sum of money for the monthly rent on the house you had been renting together. It was bittersweet. The four of you had had so much fun through your mid twenties in that house, and waking up to share laughs and have coffee were the little moments you would miss so dearly.

"You're only moving six minutes down the road," Jessie reminded you, when the two of you cried together, complete with seemingly contradictory smiles.

"I know." You dried your eyes. "But.. I just.. I'm so happy but this is-"

"The end of Act One in your story and the beginning of Act Two." Jessie pulled you in for a long hug. "And this is where the friendships grow stronger, and the real depth comes in."

You sighed. Her words made you cry a little more before you finally got it together and bid a temporary farewell to your friend. The four of you already had a plan to go out the following Friday night and that was solace enough for the time being.

The very bright light at the end of the tunnel was Joel. Once you parted from Jessie, you sped over to Joel's street with your car full of all of your belongings. Your heart was letting you know how full it was from the constant thudding in your chest. It picked up the closer you got and felt like exploding when you pulled down the private driveway.

As promised, Joel sat on his front porch waiting for your arrival. One year later and he still made you swoon. The site of him still made butterflies flutter around in your midsection.

When you parked the car and popped open the driver's side door, you smiled wide as he approached with a key dangling between his fingers. You almost couldn't believe this was really happening.

"Welcome home." Joel smiled just as wide. The two of you couldn't take your eyes off one another and you pulled him in by the collar of his flannel shirt to leave a long, meaningful kiss on his lips.

"I love you," you breathed into his mouth.

"I love you, too." He brushed his nose against yours and you kissed again before accepting the key from him.

"I can't believe I live here now."

Joel kept you close. "Maybe one day I'll get you that cabin in the woods, but I thought this would do for now."

You shook your head and nodded toward the house behind him. "This is home."

He pecked your lips once more. "Come on." He pulled you by the hand and the two of you began to unload the car.

You were on cloud nine. Each box you brought inside made the move feel more permanent. When you unpacked the box that had your Bluetooth speaker in it, you plopped it on the little end table by one of the couches and put on one of your many playlists.

"Bob Dylan," Joel nodded in approval as the first song began to play. "Nice."

You smiled at him as he hauled another box in over shoulder. The two of you went through it together, finding a permanent home for your things. While you didn't want to impose on Joel's space, he was overly accommodating.

"It's our space now," Joel reminded you three or four times.

You stuck your toothbrush in the slot next to his. Joel cleared out more than half of the closet space for clothes. You laid out your boots, shoes and sandals.

When all of the bins and boxes were finally empty, you made your way back downstairs, welcomed by the infamous pipes of Sheryl Crow's Strong Enough, you finally reached for your car keys, and the single, gold key you had placed beside it; the one Joel had given to you.

As you picked it up between your fingers, Joel crept in behind you and kissed down your neck. You moaned lightly with a smile and closed your eyes.

"Mmm.." you let out a deep exhale through your nose. "So, this is my life now, huh?" You sunk back against him.

"As long as you want it to be," Joel whispered, as his hand snaked up the bottom of your shirt.

You turned around and Joel met you halfway in a smoldering kiss, one that you had been wanting to give him all afternoon. For the rest of the night you didn't take your hands off of him. Moving in together had turned you into a feral, needy woman.

When the two of you finally laid in bed, breathing heavy but otherwise quiet, you stated aloud. "I live here."

Joel began to chuckle, guiding you to lay partially on his chest. "You live here."

You sighed contently again, listening to his heart beating rapidly in his chest with your arm slunk across his abdomen. "Imagine if I had never offered you that free coffee that night."

"What's meant to be will always be." Joel played with your hair. "But I'm glad you did." He added, "You're a brave woman. I owe you my life. You gave it back to me."

"All I want from you is to share it with me."

Joel kissed the top of your head and the two of you laid contently for a long while, talking about life, the future, and what was to come. You both intentionally left out the past. It was the easiest way to fall asleep peacefully.

When the next morning rolled around, you felt refreshed. It was like leaving a great dream only to awaken to a better one - one with Joel beside you. Permanently. Every day. For as long as you both could stand to be around one another. In your mind, that meant forever.

You smiled at him sleeping there and swung your legs off the edge of the bed before tiptoeing out of the room so you wouldn't wake him. As much as you wanted to lay there all morning with Joel, you also wanted to surprise him.

Despite it being your first formal night as a resident at the Miller house, you knew your way around the kitchen. And so you went about whipping up pancakes, setting the coffee pot and gathering the syrup, butter and chocolate chips you happened to find in one of the cabinets.

You hesitated before retrieving a long rectangular box wrapped in candy corn wrapping paper from your jacket pocket by the front door and left it by Joel's unmade plate.

Before you could go see if he was awake, your eyes lifted to meet his as he strolled into the kitchen. Joel pulled a long-sleeved tshirt down over boxers and you couldn't help but smile at his head of messy hair.

A smile crept on his face. "It smells amazing down here."

"Thought I'd surprise you on our first official morning living together." You smiled back and retrieved a glass dish filled with pancakes and placed them in the center of the table.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." The two of you sat down at the table and Joel raised his coffee mug to you. "To many more cups of coffee together first thing in the morning."

You giggled and reached for your cup, tapping it gently against his. "To many, many, many more."

Joel took a sip, smacking his lips together with an appreciative sigh and then eyed the little box by his silverware. He smirked and reached for it. "What's this?"

You felt your stomach knot up and folded your hands on top of the table. "You'll uh.. you'll have to open it."

Joel's eyes squinted in playful suspicion but he still smirked as he tore open the corner of the tiny package. "I didn't even know they made candy corn wrapping paper," he commented, glancing up at you with a wider grin.

You flashed him a closed-mouth smile and waited as he removed the small, white box from the paper. His eyes met yours a final time before he opened the box and stared down at the contents inside.

A quiet exhale escaped your lips as you waited for Joel's reaction. Those next few seconds felt like hours.

"This is, um.. is this what I think it is?" He looked right at you now motioning down toward the box. A wide smile spread on his face, "I mean it's not a positive Covid test, right?"

You managed a light laugh but ultimately the gravity of the situation held you firmly in place. "No, it's not a Covid test."

Joel chuckled to himself and brought a hand across his mouth for a second, before running it across his beard. His eyebrows raised and he reached for the rectangular stick in the box.

"Tell me." He stared intensely across the table at you.

Your bottom lip dropped away from your top one and you hesitated. You weren't sure why but it was such a powerful, permanent set of words to string together. When Joel couldn't contain a smile, it gave you enough confidence to spit the words out with a little, timid shrug of your shoulders.

"I'm pregnant."

"Really?" He asked as if he didn't believe it, rising to his feet. Joel made his way toward you.

You nodded and rose to your feet, feeling completely content and at ease in his arms as he hugged you. The warmth that often radiated from him transferred into you and you closed your eyes as his hand moved up and down your back.

It felt as if Joel didn't want to let you go, and you didn't mind. You smiled to yourself when he kissed your forehead before edging his back an inch or two so you were face-to-face.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

You nodded and smiled back at him. "Yeah. Are you?"

"Yeah." He chuckled, making you laugh and you shared a long, closed-mouth kiss. "I'm going to be a dad." The words came out almost like a question. You were sure the shock of the moment hadn't fully registered yet.

"You're going to be a great dad."

A lopsided smile still lingered on his face. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped and shook his head. When he couldn't find the words, you pulled him back in for a hug and he melted against you.

After a minute or so, Joel finally said. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

He picked you up off the ground and spun you in a circle, making you giggle again. When your feet were back on the ground, Joel put a hand on his head and you saw a dampness in his eyes.

"Don't," you said with a laugh, "I made it this long without crying."

"Sorry," he said with a laugh as a tear streaked his face. "Fuck. I'm the man, I shouldn't be crying."

"That's an outdated take," you told him with a laugh, as he dried his face with his hands.

"I know." He chuckled and then dropped down to his knees in front of you, lifting the shirt to expose your stomach. Despite there being no obvious indications of your pregnancy, Joel placed a hand over your abdomen and then left a single kiss just below your belly button.

You cradled his head against you as he placed the side of his face against the area and hugged around your waist.

"We're going to have our own little family," Joel acknowledged allowed.

"Yeah." You ran your fingers through his hair.

"What do you think, five kids?" He joked, making you laugh as he rose back to his feet.

"Maybe seven or eight," you teased back, accepting a series of kisses from him.

"I love you," Joel said again, tucking hair behind you ear. "Really. I loved you right away. Last year, a week into this, I knew this was something that comes once in a lifetime."

You had tears in your eyes now. "I knew it too. And now you finally get your happily ever after."

"So do you."

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3 @runningmom94 @mellymbee @shayna-d-clown @bbiophiliaa @theclassicvinyldragon @tiffanypooh @mandijo17 @poodlebae @purple-fig @vabeachazn

[void-galaxy-shenanigans]

So I did an important, but with some frustrating strings attached and at a financial cost.

I asked for accommodations at work.

It is day six. I am brand new. But I guess I’ve made enough of a good impression because they were willing to ask questions and discuss.

We have sensory processing disorder (auDHD). They used to play music on a Bluetooth speaker, but since then they now don’t let us have music after we open (10:45a).

So the day before yesterday I decided fuck it and had an earbud in the whole shift. It made me functional, kept us grounded, and actually made me faster and more effective. No major burns, only dropped one thing instead of multiple...overall a better shift.

The shift lead that day just...didn’t care, because I was working & I was getting faster & more effective as the day went on.

I came in to work today already overstimmed, so I used an earbud again.

(I intentionally used an earbud in our right ear, which has about 10% hearing remaining after trauma (both blasted music and physical-harm trauma). I can’t really hear out of it anyway. And these are entirely wireless (Bluetooth), small earbuds, so not super obvious and customers won’t notice (and didn’t notice yesterday). It’s not a matter of the earbud being too obvious or physically dangerous.)

But this shift lead told me to take my earbud out, and that I wasn’t allowed to have music due to safety concerns.

I work in a kitchen on a hot grill, and need to hear safety announcements (hot, cold, corner, behind you, etc.) as well as line alerts (for food when they run low/out). I understand that I need to hear that, & it could be a safety concern for some people. But I noticed yesterday I heard them better and processed way easier with music. So I protested, told her I worked better with it, but she kept arguing & telling me to take it out.

I pulled her into the back so I could hear better (quieter) and think/talk easier, and explained that it’s for a disability (not ‘just because’), and that when I had it yesterday, music made me way more effective and faster—and also able to process better what people said to me, which improves my safety. I also admitted I was already overstimmed and don’t think I can work today without it.

She said they don’t allow earbuds/headphones due to safety concerns, but also said she’d talk to higher-up managers (inbetween/corporate) about making an exception, which...is more than I expected after having to argue for 10mins.

She checked the handbook but it said nothing, so she told me to sit out in the lobby and that she’d let our lower tier/closest corporate person call her back to discuss more. Luckily she didn’t make me clock out at this point, so I just sat down to wait.

15mins later she came back and said that the higher ups talked to their disability advocate (¿they have one??) and agreed to send me the paperwork to accommodate music on the line.

But that also means I was sent home and I can’t work the rest of this week...cutting me down to 13½ hours instead of 28¾, making this paycheck around 31½ hours instead of 47 total (I don’t get a full 2 week paycheck yet because pay period is next Friday and I just started). That cuts my paycheck by ~$250, when I’m already struggling to get by and desperately need to replace multiple things, feed myself, and feed my cat...and pay rent too.

I’ll give them a little credit: this is fast food, and this is the first job who even escalated questions and decided to send me paperwork to allow an accommodation, let alone on day 6.

But I am so stressed about the money loss and the process of getting this done.

However,,, this is also the first time I got the courage to ask for an exception/accommodation of any kind. Normally I let myself suffer and let my performance tank until they inevitably fire me or cut my hours to make me quit. So I did a good this time. It just...sucks that it basically has consequences. I’m not allowed to work until the paperwork is filed and approved.

This is all a part of the journey I guess. I finally have the self-respect to ask. But that also means waiting to be sent paperwork and to hear back whether they’re gonna make an exception or not (AKA whether I’m gonna collapse out of this job in 3 to 6 months or not, because this accommodation would make or break my ability to sustain/maintain working fast food again).

I am disabled. This body is disabled. I can’t really accommodate the physical disabilities as well (struggling to stand for long periods of time / chronic pain), but if I can at least accommodate the mental ones...that’s something.

(before anyone asks, explicitly stating these— referenced & implied disabilities here: D.I.D., ADHD + bipolar, autism, sensory processing disorder, POTS, & chronic pain // disabilities I’m asking for accommodations for: ADHD/autism (sensory processing delays/overstim), & probably also PTSD because I already had to tell them yesterday about that (not sure about D.I.D. yet; bipolar is medicated; physical stuff is nigh impossible in fast food).)

(I won’t/can’t say which corporation I now work for; I don’t want to get in trouble for posting about them on social media or have them accuse me of acting as a spokesperson when I’m not. Too risky.)

~Nico

[omsaiestate]

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[hairpintvrns]

STARTER FOR: @dylxwestwick LOCATION: chambers museum / laurel village 

Terry had enjoyed the stillness that came with museums. They wouldn’t call art a primary interest, but it was adjacent enough to architecture for them to appreciate its appeal. The balance of it; the structure of it. A composite beauty held within a canvas seemed to her just as fascinating as the open spaces of the museum in which a painting was laid to rest. No matter where one went, museums would always carry the same comforting air, even if that air was marred on occasion by an undercurrent of pretense held by some overeager patron—usually by a man with curly brown hair who thought getting C’s to complete of a liberal arts degree and spoke in bellowing tones made him the most enlightened person in the world. Annoying, frankly.

Today, though? Terry fortunately had the whole wing all to themselves, and, having rented one of the available audio guides, sauntered through the current exhibit as directed by the lilting voice on their ears.

It was some time later before Terry had finally noticed the presence of another figure in the hall—this time familiar, and completely welcome, if a little displaced. How long had it been? They aren't quite sure. Their time in Blue Harbor might've been short, but it was easier to parse through than New York—which was a series of vignettes and blurs that they don't much care to look back on, except for the good parts.

Their memory of Dylan Westwick, though, was fortunately uncolored by complication. "Is that you, er—Dylan Westwick, right?" Terry halted in their steps, tapping pause to turn off ther Bluetooth speakers. "Wow. How long has it been?" A brow arched, curious, gentle. "Do you work here, now?"

[dysco-lymonade]

What about a silly 3 men and a baby type fic except it's just Clexa somehow getting an infant forced on them out of the blue and then falling in love while figuring out how to care for the kid. Or maybe you could do one where one gets a letter not meant for her and it's from the other. The rest is up to you😂

I will be affectionately referring to this AU as 2Girls1Baby until I think of, or am recommended a new title.

This is a work in progress, but I wanted to give you a little snippet, Anon, because this AU is living in my head rent-free now.

A little back story. Raven and Anya have an 18 month old baby, and they have to go out of town. Their last resort for childcare is leaving their daughter, Tris, with Clarke and Lexa.

Clarke and Lexa have been roommates for a while now, really only knowing each other through Anya and Raven. Anya is Lexa's sister; Raven is Clarke's best friend. They live together, but don't really associate aside from that.

“So what now?” Clarke looks at Lexa, perplexed.

“Well, I guess we'll just keep her alive until Monday. That won’t be too hard… Right?” Lexa searches for comfort in Clarke’s gaze, receiving nothing of the sort.

“Anya is your sister! This is your problem.” Clarke gestures toward the 18 month old in the car seat currently chilling on their living room floor, kicking her feet at a dangling raccoon that is attached to the handle of her carrier.

“Raven is your best friend!” Lexa scolds in a hushed voice, not wanting to disturb the currently occupied toddler.

“Blood is thicker than water, right?” Clarke scoffs and walks away, to close herself up in her bedroom as per usual.

With a heavy sigh, Lexa cautiously approaches the toddler. “Hey, Tris.” She mumbles, “I’m your Aunt Lexa, we’re going to be great friends.” Suddenly, Tris realizes that neither of her mothers are within sight.

A wail that Lexa is surprised didn’t shatter their windows, falls from Tris’s mouth.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, no. Shh- Shh, it's okay sweetheart. You’re okay. Aunt Lexa’s got you. We’re going to have so much fun…” Lexa searches around the living room, desperate to find something to occupy this kid’s attention. Anya had warned her that they were trying to limit her time with electronics, so she wouldn’t become reliant on them. The TV was out of the question.

Lexa whips her phone out of her pocket, scrolls through Spotify, and comes across a Disney playlist. She turns it on, and connects the phone to the bluetooth speaker in the living room.

“HAKUNA MATATA WHAT A WONDERFUL PHRASE” comes out entirely too loud, and only makes Tris cry harder.

“Shit, shit, shi- shoot, shoot, crap, dang it.” Lexa silences her phone. “Okay, maybe a bit more preparation for that, eh? Okay, so, find the speaker… where is it? Oh, there it is!” She locates the bluetooth speaker next to the television. “Now to turn the volume down, huh? That was wayyyy too loud. Aunt Clarke must have been in the zone the last time she was painting.” Lexa continues to ramble to herself, not realizing until she pulls her phone back out that Tris has stopped her wailing.

“Oh. You’re a conversationalist, are you?” She asks with a cheeky grin towards the 18 month old. She puts on the Disney playlist, on a low volume for background noise.

“Did your Mamas tell you the shi- crap I’ve been going through at work?” She waits a beat, Tris looks at her with big, bloodshot eyes, from her crying fit. 

“No? Okay, so let me just tell you. My boss,” she clears her throat and takes on a comedic Renaissance accent, “Executive Chef, Charles Pike, total idiot,” Lexa then resumes her regular speaking voice, “decided today that he was going to have a five course meal planned for the Water’s wedding tomorrow.” She scoffs.

Tris just babbles along while kicking her raccoon and eyeing Lexa suspiciously. 

“Exactly, that’s what I said. And then Pike has the gall to walk over to me and ask me to get it done by the end of the day, like I don’t already have 42 things on my plate. Because this man has made weaponized incompetence into a fuc-freaking art form.”

“Truck truck truck?” Tris all but screams at Lexa.

“You’re totally right, I should’ve told him to walk in front of a truck.”

"Truck, truck, TRUUUCK” Tris starts to wail.

“Truck? Where is the truck?” Lexa starts to rummage through her diaper bag. “Oh god, WHERE IS THE TRUCK?!”

In her panic, Lexa doesn’t realize that Clarke had emerged from her bedroom, and is currently walking towards Tris with a small yellow Tonka truck in her hands.

“Is this what you want, baby girl?” Clarke coos.

Lexa’s head snaps to attention and finds Clarke currently knelt next to her niece, shaking the truck slowly in front of her face. Tris has stopped crying, and currently has her full attention on Clarke’s hands.

“Clarke?” 

“Don’t mention it, I was just tired of hearing you talk about work.” Her roommate quips back, and then starts making vrooming truck noises to occupy the toddler.

“You don’t have to do this, Clarke. I am more than capable of-”

She’s cut off by Clarke, “Babysitting should be about more than just surviving, don’t we deserve better than that?”

Lexa gapes at her, unsure how to respond. 

“I might be a hypocrite, Lexa. But you’re a liar. You have no idea what you’re doing taking care of a baby.” Clarke jests with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t lie to everyone, not you.” She mumbles quietly.

“Well, if you care about me, and Tris, you’ll go make a bottle for her. I think she’s hungry.” Clarke retorts, a bit softer than she had been previously.

[noyoucantpinmedown]

The Counselors go to the beach headcanons

Going off the concept of the counselors renting a house together for summer break the summer after the Quarry happens, so that they can enjoy the summertime without having to deal with annoying children or murderous werewolves.

Their 'base' ends up being a massive spread of beach blankets and foldable chairs and bags, all centered around Max's neon orange umbrella.

Jacob brought his bluetooth speaker, which he makes sure is turned up to the max at all times. Emma's in charge of music this time.

Ryan and Dylan both forgot to bring their own sunscreen, but it's alright because Kaitlyn brought three extra bottles just in case.

Max made sandwiches in the morning and packed them for everyone to have at noon.

Abi spends a good 20 minutes slathering herself in layer after layer of sunscreen. Jacob forgoes sunscreen altogether.

Nick is the first to go into the water. He spends most of the day swimming.

Emma makes Abi take pictures of her in the sand, in the water, etc. she's satisfied with the little beach photoshoot she lays down to work on her tan.

Abi chats with her and spends most of her day sketching while the others come in and out of the water. She stays under the umbrella's shade as much as she can.

When Ryan is done swimming he joins the girls, but puts in his earbuds and stares at the clouds while he listens to a podcast

Max, Laura and Nick race each other swimming. Dylan is their referee. Nick wins the first two rounds, with Laura as a close second, but Max wins the third and final.

Dylan swims around a little, then plops down with Abi, Kaitlyn and Emma to tan.

After lunch, Emma and Dylan go off to look for seashells.

A very pruney and hungry Nick comes back to land only enticed by the prospect of food. He keeps Abi company while they eat and then takes a nap in the sun.

After lunch, Jacob and Laura decide it's time to play volleyball. It's Ryan and Laura versus Kaitlyn and Jacob. Both sides get way too competitive and the matches are tough, but the childhood besties end up winning by the end of the afternoon. Ryan and Laura bicker about their loss for the rest of the day.

Dylan and Emma come back with a nice collection of seashells, pebbles and glass. Dylan brings back a conch shell for Ryan.

In the end, Abi's aggressive sunscreen application does work. She doesn't burn at all and even gets some color. But Jacob. Does Jacob burn.

Kaitlyn brought aloe lotion to the trip because she knew this would happen, but she still enjoys telling Jacob how much of an idiot he is and how she told him to put sunscreen on while she applies the lotion on his back when they get home. He's in too much pain to try to argue with her.

Laura and Max stay at the beach until sunset so that they can take a nice long walk together.

[yourlocalwheeliebin]

Driving Home to Bucky After A Long Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Gender Neutral) Reader 

Word Count: 1.3k

TW: None 

AN: Just a short but sweet one shot about our favorite boy. This has sat in my google docs for a ass time so I hope you all enjoy! Okay, mags out!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

It’s been a long day. Too long for it to only be a Wednesday. You're having to work late because one of your colleagues fucked up some paperwork after a mission that you now need to fix. Your boss is nice enough to ask if you need dinner orders but you tell them no and you'll eat when you get home. “Fucking Sara, how do you screw up a goddamn injury form this badly” you groan, filling out anther claim made by our colleague. 

Finally, after around 3 hours past your usual shift, you're able to leave for Buck's. You look out the window and the rain has only gotten heavier on the cold November night. It’s pitch black out apart from city lights and cars that drove past. You shut down your computer, grab your coat and start to head out. In the lift, you message Bucky letting him know you're finally on the way home. It's almost 8pm. 

You run to your car, holding your jacket over your head to not get too wet. You sit there for a few minutes to let out a deep sigh and release some stress that you'd been holding. Starting up your car, you turn on the heating and connect your phone up to the Bluetooth. Songs that remind you of Bucky start to play, a feeling of ease finally washes over you as you pull out of the parking lot. 

Traffic in Brooklyn is brutal, the journey home taking far longer than you'd like it to. The lights of other cars slowly strained your tired eyes. The yells and noise of the city deafened by the music playing through the speaker. Your clothes and hair slowly dry as you drive, wondering how much longer the journey will take.

Pulling up to Bucky's apartment, you turn off the car and lie back on the seat for a second. Almost steadying the tiredness and stress from the day before you venture into the apartment complex. The area isn't the nicest but it's near where he grew up. A rough blue eyed boy from Brooklyn who deserved the world waiting for you to come home to him. Mentally cursing how many stairs you'll have to climb since the lift is out of order. 

Entering the building, the dusty smell of the cold building is a stark contrast to the cold November air outside. The climb up the stairs felt like an eternity, the walls getting progressively dirtier as you climb each flight. Standing outside the door of Buck’s apartment at last, you slowly open the door to the dimly lit home. 

Bucky's apartment wasn't much. He rented it when it was just himself living there, not taking into account meeting you or the fact he deserved more than just four dingy walls. Parts of you linger in each room, a daily reminder that you’re real and not just part of some sick dream. That you're really with him, not planning to leave any time soon. 

From the toothbrush in the bathroom; to the extra blankets and cushions you bought for the living room so the leather of the beat up old sofa wouldn't stick to your skin after hours of watching TV together cuddled up. Fairy lights hung up in the bedroom and living room, a fond memory from when you put them up at Christmas the year before but never took them down since you thought they looked pretty. He couldn't help agreeing, saying they looked beautiful as he stared at you rather than the yellow lights decorating the walls. 

The small kitchen held home to kitchenware that you bought once you found out he only had two pots and a frying pan for pancakes. A cheesy apron hung up on the edge of the door that had "Kiss the Cook'' on the front, a joke gift that a friend of yours bought you for your birthday. 

Though the apartment was small and there was barely enough room to move in it, he wouldn't change it for the world. His room didn't have a door to separate it from the living room and sure, the heating didn't work half the time and don't get him started on the guy on the 2nd floor who flirts with you every time he runs into you....he wouldn't change it one bit of it meant a life without you. 

Walking through the door, the smell of cinnamon, leather and dust washed over you. A warm welcoming smell that always felt like home to you. He always seemed to smell like old leather, pine and something sweet that you couldn't quite put your finger on. You took off your shoes and called out to Bucky as you put down your bag and jacket on the small side table that was next to the front door. 

You looked around for Bucky as you walked in. The kitchen island was tidy for once and the wooden floor had been mopped. 'Must have cleaned while I was out' you thought as you walked towards the sofa in the middle of the living room. An old Friends rerun playing on the TV again. 

Buck walks out from the bathroom in a t-shirt and a pair of tracksuit bottoms, looking freshly showered with his wet hair sticking to his forehead. He comes over with a smile on his face, eyes still the brightest blue you'd ever seen, and envelopes you in a hug. He asks how work was as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. You explain your day before quickly heading off to change out of your work attire.

After changing and finally feeling comfortable again, you walk into the living room. The main lights had been turned off, the fairy lights from Christmas were turning the room a warm and cosy yellow. Some candles were lit on the kitchen island and on the TV stand as some soft music played in the background. You laugh a little as you walk over to him. Sat on the sofa, Bucky smiles at you, knowing how hard today must have been.

"Long day?" He asked. "God, don’t get me started” Buck stood up from the sofa, making is way to the middle of the small living room and placed a hand on your lower back and slowly pulled you in for a kiss. “I would gladly have rather spent the day here”. Buck let out a small breathy laugh, “well you’re here now” he says, almost whispering as if was trying to convince himself you were real. 

“How'd you do this all while I was getting changed? I was only in there for like 5 minutes, Buck". He takes your hands in his as Louis Armstrong starts to play through the speaker. "I may have planned this out a bit before you got home. Plus, food has been ordered. Got your favorite" He said with that same sweet smile he always gives you. Even though your tired, that damn Bucky Barnes Charm is irresistible. 

“Wow look at you go, ordering food from your phone” He scoffs sarcastically. “Hey, I am perfectly capable ordering from the phone, it’s not rocket science” You laugh, resting your forehead against his. “I know, I’m only joking old man”. 

He pulls you close and starts to sway to the music. The windows open slightly let in the light noise of rain and that ambiance of the city outside. It all adds to the small bubble the two of you had made in the apartment. The song changes to Can't Help Falling In Love With You as he places another kiss on your forehead. 

"I love yah, Doll. You know that right?" You turn your head to face him. The swaying stops and his hands rest on your waist. His face, dimly lit by the fairy lights and candles. "I know, I love you too Buck. Always have, always will". The two of you go back to softly swaying to the music, wrapped in each others warmth. Feeling safe in the world for a moment. 

[pic-a-roon]

Rented a Getaway tiny cabin with my boyfriend and his dog Duke. First road trip together (Chicago -> Michigan) stopped for a bagel sandwich at this Jewish deli and proceeded to play music for one another and just talk and laugh for the 2 hour drive. Ate many snacks that I packed - my chocolate dipped chocolate espresso cookies were out of this world.

Cabin was ready at 3pm so first stop at Saugatuck, MI on our way in to grab groceries and eat at the Pennyroyal Cafe for lunch.

Made a fire when we found our cabin named “Sadie.” Prepared a Shrimp boil in aluminum foil cooked on the fire pit for dinner. Brought a Bluetooth speaker and played some 70s rock classics while prepping for dinner. Capped the night with We’re Not Really Strangers, a bottle of red wine and s’mores. Ended the night cuddling in bed with the dog and some candles it was so romantic.

Woke up to this huge bedside window of snow blanketed woods. Made lemon ricotta blueberry pancakes for breakfast and left the cabin to go hike the snow covered dunes of coastal Michigan. Stopped by a brewery in Southaven for a bite to eat before heading back to Chicago to for a House music show (Honey Dijon!)

Best date/trip on the books.