#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.

[motorsportbarbie13]

Forbidden - Part 4

In which your heart shatters into a million pieces.

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of a panic attack, charles being a dick.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x LeClercSister!Reader word count: 2.3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Master List

Summer break. Four blissful weeks of no racing talk, no work for Max, and nothing to do but spend the day in bed. Of course, you had work to do but considering half of Europe was also on summer holiday at the moment, your inbox was fairly empty and you didn’t have much going on. The first week of the summer vacation passed with you spending nearly all your time with Max, holed up in either your new apartment that you finally found and rented four weeks ago or in his apartment across town. The uninterrupted time you had spent with him so far had been one of the best weeks of your entire life. 

And Max felt the same way. It was so nice being out of the spotlight for a while, able to hide away and focus solely on you. Things between the two of you were becoming…serious, he supposed. It was still a secret from everyone and Max was beginning to chafe under that shroud of secrecy. You were still insistent on keeping it private, still confident that Charles would have an absolute fit if he found out. 

But you also were wary of what the media and fans would do if they found out. Just a few weeks ago, there had been a rumor about Oscar’s girlfriend Lily being pregnant and Oscar had been accused of hiding her pregnancy to save his career. It was all false, of course. You had seen Lily with your own eyes the other night when you ran into her and Oscar while you were at dinner with your mother and Charlie and she was very not pregnant. But you could see the toll it had taken on the both of them. The way Lily looked a little more on edge than normal, and Oscar a little more distant than usual had you nervous of what would happen if Max and you ever decided to go public. 

For now though, you were content setting up house and pretending the outside world didn’t exist. In another week, you would go on a trip with your family to Croatia for a week, spending time on a yacht Charlie had rented to island hop. While you didn’t want to leave Max, who would be leaving to spend some time with his family first in Belgium, where his mother was from and then in Italy. You hated how much your heart hurt when you thought about how much you’d miss him while he was gone for the two weeks, but the first race back would be Max’s home race in the Netherlands which would be such a good weekend. 

You were in the shower that morning when everything crashed and burned. Your phone had been set to Do Not Disturb for various reasons, so you missed the warning signs. Max was in your kitchen, the picture of domestic bliss, as he flipped pancake after pancake, wanting to surprise you with breakfast after you had finished getting cleaned up from this mornings romp in the sheets with him. His shirt was off as he stood barefoot in only a pair of running shorts in front of the stove, whistling along to the upbeat jazz that floated out from the speakers connected to the bluetooth on his phone. 

The smell of the freshly made pancakes, sticky with syrup, wafted through the small apartment, drawing you out of your bathroom in only one of Max’s shirts. “Something smells good.” You crooned, padding into the kitchen in bare feet, hair still damp from your shower. 

Max hums in response, pointing to the pile of pancakes waiting for you on the counter. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you rest your head on his shoulder, pressing your lips to the bare skin there. He always tasted so good, you could never resist the chance to taste him. 

“There’s fruit on the table, juice in the fridge. You really need to go to the grocery store, liefje.” 

Your heart fluttered at the new pet name he’d begun to call you in the last few weeks. You hadn’t known what it meant and when you asked Max, he shyly told you it was Dutch for ‘baby’ or ‘love’. You had always been a sucker for pet names but pet names in a different language than your native French and English? That did something extra to your heart. 

“I know, I know. I can’t help it if there’s a hot Formula 1 driver that refuses to let me out of bed for longer than a few moments though, can I?” 

Max raps you on the ass with the spatula as you scamper away, giggling at the grin he tosses over his shoulder at you. 

“What the actual FUCK am I looking at right now?” 

You spin around, the bowl of fruit in your hands clattering to the ground at the sound of your brother’s voice. 

Oh fuck. 

Your eyes bounce from your brother’s face, a mask of rage to Max’s horrified expression. 

“And here we thought you were hurt or something, but no!” Charles stalks towards you, the key to your apartment dangling from his fingertip. “No, you’re just playing house with my biggest fucking rival! Of all the people you could choose to fuck, it had to be HIM?” 

“Charlie.” You whisper, tears burning the back of your eyes at the look of pure anger and more horrifying, sadness, etched on your brother’s face. “It’s not what you think. This isn’t…”

“Save it. I don’t want to hear you justify whoring yourself out to fucking Max Verstappen.” 

“Do not speak to my girlfriend like that, Charles.” Max grits out, the muscles in his jaw twitching from how tightly he’s grinding his molars together.

You turn slowly, along with Charles, at his words and blink at him. Girlfriend? 

Max ignores the look of panic on your face and continues, voice measured and deathly calm. “I know this might be,” He pauses, searching for the right word. “Upsetting and a surprise but this is not a fling, I swear.” 

If it had been any other time, you would have melted at his words. And you were still reeling from Max calling you his girlfriend. But you had bigger things to focus on. Charles practically shook with anger as he tore his gaze away from Max, fury fully settling on you now. “How long? How long have you been lying to me? To everyone? You’ve been traveling with us under the guise of spending more time with me, living in Monaco to be closer to the family but all this time, you’ve been with him?” 

The disgust in your brother’s voice turns your stomach, acid creeping it’s way up your throat. “Since Austria.” You whisper, wincing when Charles throws your key across the room in a fit of rage. 

“I fucking knew it. I knew something was up when you suddenly had that migraine in Belgium but didn’t answer your door when I came to check on you after dinner. You lied to me! You never lie to me. We never keep secrets and this is the first one you choose to keep from me? My sister fucking the man that has taken everything from me my entire career? What kind of fucking joke it this?” 

“It’s not a joke, Charles.” Max murmurs from where he now stands beside you, fingers laced tightly with yours. Maybe if he showed your brother that this wasn’t some random fling, he’s calm down. 

“Shut your fucking mouth Verstappen.” He growls, furious gaze swinging back to you. “This obviously can’t continue.” 

“Wh-what?” You stutter, absolutely floored that your bother would think that he could make you choose. 

“You left the family for six god damned years because you couldn’t handle being the sister of someone famous! What do you think it’s going to be like as Max Verstappen’s fucking girlfriend! You’re not strong enough.” 

Pain lances through your entire body at the venom in your brother’s voice. “Charlie.” You choke, unable to believe that your best friend, your twin, just said something that awful to you.

“Enough.” Max shouts, stepping in between the pair of you, shielding you from Charles’ view. “You need to leave, right fucking now.”

Charles scoffs, still completely floored by what he walked in on. “You know what, you two deserve each other. Both fucking liars. Don’t bother worrying about coming to Croatia with us, you’re not wanted there anymore. I’m sure you’d have more fun with your new boy toy anyway.” 

Charles turns on his heel and stalks out of your apartment, slamming the door shut behind him so hard you flinch. A haunted silence falls over you and Max, panic and anguish flooding your body as you begin to tremble from the scene that just unfolded before you. 

“Fuck.” Max breaths, turning to you. “I’m so sorry liefje.” He reaches out to take you into his arms but to his surprise, you step out of his reach. Panic shoots through him, you’ve never turned down affection from him, especially when you’re upset. He’s been the one you go to for comfort for months now and not being able to do anything about how distraught you are sets his teeth on edge. “Liefje?” 

“He’s right, you know.” You whisper, not sure if you’re talking to yourself of Max. 

“What?” All Max wants to do is hold you, to get his arms wrapped around you and stop your shaking. 

Tears stream down your face as your brother’s words echo in your head. How you weren’t strong enough. You were whoring yourself out. The vile words repeated over and over until the buzz of his venom was all you could hear. Your breath comes quicker, panic squeezing itself around your heart as you fight for a breath that just won’t come. You know what’s coming and are helpless to fend it off. Having Max see you so weak sends you even further down the road towards the panic attack you can’t keep at bay. 

“You need to leave.” You choke out, desperately needing to be alone to work this out by yourself. It’s how you’ve always done it, gathered yourself together on your own without anyone else seeing you so weak. You couldn’t let Max see you like this. How could you when the only other person you’ve ever allowed in just threw everything in your face. No, you couldn’t stand if Max turned on you too. 

Max comes to stand beside you, concern etched on his handsome face. “What? No, schatje absolutely not. I can’t. Leave you right now, you need me. You can’t be alone now.” 

“That’s exactly what I need. Charles was right, I’m not strong enough to be your girlfriend.” You choke on the word, having wanted to be claimed by him for months now and when you finally get what you want, it hurts too much to even enjoy it. 

His arms reach out to circle your waist, pulling you to him. Strength completely depleted, you allow him to crush you to his chest, the heat of his skin like a warm blanket settling over you. “Baby, I can’t do that. I just can’t.” 

“You have to. Charlie was right.” You repeat again, still listening to his words on a loop in your head. “I need some time to process what just happened and I need to do it alone. Please, Max.” He winces, you never call him just ‘Max’.

His arms drop away from you then and despite your begging him to leave, you instantly miss his warmth. “Is this the end?” Emotion claws at his throat, unable to process what is happening. You’re simply the best thing that’s ever happened to him and now? Now you’re pushing him away. 

“I don’t know.” You choke out on a sob. 

“Fine. I’ll go but I don’t want to. You call me the moment you change your mind, okay? And this isn’t over, not for me. It won’t ever be over for me, liefje.” 

Max retreats to the bedroom for a moment, leaving you standing cold and alone in the kitchen. When he returns, he’s got a shirt on. He doesn’t have his bag that he brought with him though, he refuses to bring it with him. It’s too final, taking that bag out of the house. He wants, no needs, an excuse to come back and he wants you to know that he’s not leaving without a fight. He’ll respect your wishes for now because he knows you think you need the space but if he knows you, and he’s betting everything that he does, you won’t run away from what the two of you have. 

You’re balled up on the couch, faraway gaze staring at nothing when he comes to stand in front of you. “I’m going now but if you need me, you can call me. Any time of day, no matter what.” He crouches down in front of you, fingers snagging your chin so you’re forced to look at him instead of at some unknown point over his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you, liefje. So fucking much.” 

The sob that escapes your throat shatters his heart in a million pieces. He doesn’t know if that was the right thing to do, to tell you what’s bene on his mind for weeks now. It was the truth though. He’d been fighting it for what felt like forever now, terrified to scare you off with those words that felt like they were coming too early but now? Now it was different. He needed you to know that he wasn’t going to give up this easily. He needed you to know that he had fallen head over heels for you and that he’d never leave, no matter how hard you pushed him away. 

Your silence ripped him even further in two but he accepted it, knowing that there was too much emotion swirling around in that head of yours to properly respond. Maybe that made him selfish, taking this time to tell you how he felt but he needed you to know. 

Dropping a kiss on your head, Max stands and does the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. He walks out of your apartment not knowing when he’ll see you again. 

Tag List: @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo

[swappedandtrapped]

Rent Help - Part 2

Read part 1

Roy closed the door after him, leaving me still half-shocked at the situation. I felt disgusting. I was still soaking in sweat by this whole rude awakening, and I smelt awful. Like Roy always did. I couldn't do this. I couldn't stay in this sweaty piece of shit of a body. I decided I HAVE to take a shower and clean myself. At least get this sweaty stench off of me.

I wasn't thrilled about having to see myself naked in Roy's body, but I knew it was only a matter of time until I had to. I turned on the hot water and stripped. Trying not to look down, I started cleaning myself and noticed many things in Roy's body I didn't before. How he's actually a bit shorter than me, how thick he was, how soft his body felt (excluding his rough hands).

At some point, I started moving down and was finally confronted with the lower half of Roy's body. It was painful for me to see his stubby dick peeking out of a hairy bush. "I'm stuck with this for now, but it's only temporary." I tried to tell myself, cringing again at how Roy's voice came out of me.

I dried up and went to my room to get dressed, but I found this to be more challenging than I thought. After barely fitting into my underwear, I tried picking a shirt, but I couldn't find anything to fit my new size. I tried putting on one of my baggiest shirts, but I just couldn't fit. I struggled with it for a good minute before starting to sweat again and admitting defeat. There was no other choice other than to go to Roy's room and wear something he had in my new size. I ended up taking underwear and light shorts but found out that all of his shirts were in the wash. Of course. I took one from his laundry basket and took a sniff of Roy's essence. "Hmm… Clean enough.".

I spent the rest of the day trying not to think about the fact that I was in Roy's body.

I tried reading one of my books, but it was hard to concentrate for some reason. It took me a few times to understand what's going on. I thought it was just an older book with older English, but maybe it was because I had to constantly look at his think hand and fingers holding the book.

Later on, I tried one of his video games, thinking it could pass the time better. I started up the console and connected to some sort of multiplayer shooting game. I got the hang of things pretty quickly and started winning matches. Maybe I also got Roy's muscle memory along with his body? But my winning streak was soon met with my annihilation by the opposing team. "Kus ummak!" I shouted in anger to the empty house on instinct. Why did I say that?

The day went on with nothing of note. I stayed home all day, had a nap, played games. At some point, I answered Roy's phone and pretended to be him to avoid suspicion. I was weird, talking to someone I don't know with no issue. Like I knew what he wanted to hear.

Evening came, and there was still no sign of Roy in my body. I was starting to worry since I was at his mercy in this situation. I realized he could just disappear, and I would never see my body again. With this new fear, I called my phone to make sure he's coming back soon.

He answered the call, talking through the Bluetooth speaker in his (or my?) car. "Hey, what's up?" He said. "You're on speaker with the guys." I heard some laughter in the background. Was he hanging out with MY friends?!"

"Ah, yeah, hey." I said, trying to cover up the fact I was blackmailed into lending my body. "Just wanted to check when you're coming back. It's getting late."

I heard my friends in the background again. "Why is he acting like your dad?" "Haha he's lonely. Fucking cringe."

My face became red with embarrassment.

"It's ok, man. We're on our way back. Be there in 30."

"Ok, hurry up."

"Don't worry, going str-"

The call ended with a horrible crashing sound ringing in my ear. I was stunned. What just happened? I called again. No answer. I was in panic mode. Called again. Nothing. My heart was beating so fast, my body sweating again from the anxiety. Did he crash my fucking car?

The fourth time was a dud. Only at the 5th try I got an answer.

"ROY! DID YOU FUCKING CRASH MY CAR?" I shouted.

"What?" It was my voice, but Roy was clearly disoriented.

"JUST ANSWER. ARE YOU OK???"

"Yeah. I mean, maybe. Now I'm not so sure. My head got hit real bad. I'm bleeding."

"Fuck." That's my head that's gonna need to recover. "What about the others?"

"They're fine. They called me an ambulance."

"Thank god." I sighed in relief. "I was so sure all of you died."

"Haha it would take a bit more to kill me Roy."

My blood ran cold. "What did you call me?"

"Your name. Roy. Did I say something else? I really need them to check my head."

Again. I was stunned. Was he calling me that because my friends were near or did he really hit his head that bad?

"Hey, umm, are your friends with you?"

Roy sighed. "No, they're waiting by the wreck, I went aside for a bit to call everyone."

Stunned again.

"Listen Roy, I need to call my insurance, we'll talk later, ok?"

The phone slipped from my hands and fell to the floor. He thinks he's me? There's no way. No fucking way.

No. Fucking. Way.

When he finally came back, my fears were confirmed. He really forgot ever being himself or having the ability to swap bodies for that matter. I tried to convince him, make his memories re-appear. But nothing worked. He dismissed me and called me crazy no matter how hard I tried. At some point, he was fed up and locked himself in my room.

I was almost sobbing. This was it. I was stuck in his fucking body with no way to go back. With no other choice, I went to Roy's room and leaned against his bed. On his floor. In his body. Knowing that I will now have to live his life.

Thanks for reading. Part 3 maybe?

[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

[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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[puppy-steve]

if i ain't got you

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

have some hurt/comfort, connor style <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

buy me a ☕?

[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

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[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