#Phantom mimes

[axolotlbloddy]

Fusion au

Fusion:

Mr Tops

Babadook

Edward C Burke

Phantomimes?

Sorry for me Phantomimes is freak me out TwT

[fishbread001]

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Danny Phantom doesn’t want to be king.

And the Observants also don’t want him to be king.

Frankly, very VERY few people want him to be king, dead or alive.

But opening the sarcophagus, even if it’s closed NOW, disrupted some magic protections. Until those can be fixed, summoning spells need to be answered by SOMEONE. Not all of summons, just like—once a month or so. Because if they don’t let that power outlet happen, all of those summon magics build up and suddenly Pariah Dark reigns again. Answering the summon basically dispels the built up magic, like opening a dam.

Again, Danny doesn’t WANT to do this either, but everyone else involved is a bad choice. He won’t even be named prince, because THEN that implies he COULD be king. He needs a title, of some kind, a position in the court, no matter how tenuous, so he can do the thing. Something where no one in their right or even WRONG mind would think to try to kill him for the position or try to marry him or something equally annoying to deal with.

So.

He becomes the Ghost Court Jester.

He even gets a fancy little outfit upgrade when he’s summoned, all black and white bell hats and shoes, a stupid little ruffle collar and black parachute pants, even face paint with a tiny dot of glowing neon green at the tip of his nose. The works. Better yet, if he hasn’t been ‘unsummoned’, his human form is just the exact same costume with swapped colors. He can change into his normal outfits, but until that circle has been disrupted, the next summon, or the next full or new moon, he’s stuck into the outfit when he first transforms from either form.

The Phantom Jester, which is a title more intimidating than Danny appears to be if we are to be honest, cracks jokes and never, EVER takes the summons seriously.

“Listen, I just had to get my hours in and it’s the last day of the lunar month, you got lucky I came at all.”

“I got the position by virtue of not wanting to go to Time Jail for a crime I technically didn’t commit and technically probably won’t but, well, eyes are the beholder of the grudge or something else equally cryptic to make you mad.”

“Is this a slumber party? … do you have cake? Bummer. Well, enjoy the bleeding walls then.”

“Whether I help you or not is entirely dependent on how well of a run down you can give me on this book I have to read that I have not at all touched.”

“Explain the reason in three sentences or less. I suggest less. And if it’s stupid I’m hitting you—oh you think this circle can contain me? Haha. It won’t.”

“Is that chicken blood? Why?? What did the chickens do to you?”

There are props in his costume but he literally never knows what he’s gonna pull out of his sleeves. Danny can’t even do a balloon animal and knows exactly zero card tricks, which would be more of an issue if the cards weren’t the size of a dinner plate. He barely even juggles and he’s honestly probably just utilizing his rarely-used telekinetic powers, but he does give people flowers if they haven’t been a total jerk. And if those flowers are like, rare and have seeds for propagation, well… he literally wouldn’t know. No, really, he doesn’t. He gets summoned by at least two ecology departments and he has no idea why, I mean, if he had a nickel—

He also had pies and is NOT afraid to use them.

[minicomics]

Happy Halloween ^^

Yes, it's a bit early, but better late than never.

The Punk and the Crew are ready for tricky treats

Calli is Abby from the Fundamental Paper Education and Punk P is Ember Mclain from Danny Phantom as the rock ghost villain.

Pam-Na is the mad hatter of the 2017 movie then past. And Dew well he had to change his Jax to something else, so he picks Angle Dust because who else would enjoy a killer then having it high and do a great time.

[syddog]

He set the town on fire so now hes in baby jail 🙃🙃

Lines by @jadenoryuu !!!

[alloutofluck]

I’ve been doing little illustrations of the moths and butterflies in my collection! I’ve made them into stickers (and other things) on my RedBubble.

The first butterfly is one of my favourites, a Great Blue Mime. The second is a Spanish Moon Moth and the third is a Blushing Phantom Butterfly.

[innytoes]

Pokemon AU

Okay continuation of the Pokemon AU.

-Willie and Ziggy the zigzagoon used to work for Caleb, who owned a ghost-type gym. He took Willie in off the streets, made him feel like he could have a place there, made him sign a contract and OOP now he owns you. Listen in a world where people are okay with 10 year olds travelling the globe to become Pokemon Masters, you think the contract law would protect like, a fourteen year old? Nope.

-Willie found Ziggy in the dumpster looking for food and tried to keep him from Caleb, but got caught. Caleb let him keep him, but immediately put Ziggy to work as well, training against his ghost pokemon so they had some 'warm ups'.

-Eventually Willie and Ziggy were sick of Caleb and others kicking their asses so they started training in secret. The first time Ziggy beat one of Caleb's ghosts was... not a great week for them. But then Caleb started training up new Pokemon against Ziggy, until Ziggy was like hella powerful.

-Caleb haaates that Willie won't evolve Ziggy. Ziggy doesn't want to evolve, so Willie refuses.

-Eventually they run very far away, and run into two cute boys, and live happily ever after.

-In this AU, Carrie obviously has only pink pokemon. Her strongest and the one she bonded with most is of course her Sylveon.

-Flynn and Julie also have Eeveelutions. Like, they all got their Eevees together as little girls and trained them together. Julie has an Espeon and Flynn has an Umbreon.

-Flynn and Julie aren't trainers, their Pokemon are basically very spoiled pets that use their powers to help them perform/DJ.

[jokersexymancompetition]

Evil Clown Contest Redemption Round Two

[call-me-strega]

I’m torn between thinking:

A) He’s not doing anything crazy and just acting like a regular mime which makes him all the more unsettling

and

B) He’s using his ghost powers to sell the act (e.g doing the walking down the stairs bit but he goes intangible and is actually sinking into the ground)

The batkids are spilt on whether they find it hilarious, concerning and unsettling, or a mix of both.

I blame the fact that I've been sick and fever dreams have left me slightly more unhinged then normal...

But just-

Danny fucking annoying the shit out of the Joker and beating him up/foiling his Plans regularly...

As a Mime.

Cause Sam and Tucker made a bet.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Meat Loaf - I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That) 1993

"I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)" is a song written by Jim Steinman, and recorded by American rock singer Meat Loaf. The song was released in August 1993 as the first single from the singer's sixth album, Bat Out of Hell II: Back into Hell (1993). The last six verses features English singer Lorraine Crosby, who was credited only as "Mrs. Loud" in the album notes. While visiting the label's recording studios on Sunset Boulevard, Crosby was asked by her manager Steinman to provide guide vocals for Meat Loaf, who was recording the song "I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)". Cher, Melissa Etheridge and Bonnie Tyler were considered for the role. The song was a commercial success, however as Crosby had recorded her part as guide vocals, she did not receive any payment for the recording but she receives royalties from PRS. Crosby did not appear in the Michael Bay-directed music video, where model Dana Patrick mimed her vocals. Meat Loaf promoted the single with American vocalist Patti Russo performing the live female vocals of this song at his promotional appearances and concerts.

The power ballad was a commercial success, reaching number one in 28 countries. The single was certified platinum in the US and became Meat Loaf's first and only number one and top ten single on the Billboard Hot 100 and Cash Box Top 100. It also became Meat Loaf's first and only number one single on the UK Singles Chart, and was the best-selling single of 1993 in the UK. The song earned Meat Loaf a Grammy Award for Best Rock Vocal Performance, Solo.

American film director and producer Michael Bay directed the accompanying music video for "I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)". The cinematographer was Daniel Pearl, particularly known for filming The Texas Chain Saw Massacre in 1973. Pearl says that this video "is one of my personal all-time favorite projects… I think the cinematography is pure, and it tells a story about the song." The video is based on Beauty and the Beast and The Phantom of the Opera. Bob Keane did Meat Loaf's make-up, which took up to two hours to apply. The make-up was designed to be simple and scary, yet "with the ability to make him sympathetic." The shoot went over budget, and was filmed in 90 °F (32 °C) heat, across four days. The video, which was the abridged seven-minute version of the song rather than the twelve-minute album version, was put into heavy rotation on MTV.

Meat Loaf appeared in over 50 films and television shows, sometimes as himself or as characters resembling his stage persona. His film roles included Eddie in The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) and Robert Paulson in Fight Club (1999).

"I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)" received a total of 77,7% yes votes!

[zepskies]

S.I.N.G.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: Beau wishes you’d take this self-defense lesson a little more seriously.

AN: Here's another one-shot for the Take Me Home series, set a couple of months after A Crime of Passion. Some of you might get the Miss Congeniality reference. 😂

Word Count: 1.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship. Flirty teasing, tinge of angst and trauma/PTSD, spiciness and a side helping of smut. 

Catch up on TMH: ⤵️

❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist

“All right, let’s try that again,” said Beau.

You barely resisted the urge to whine like a child. Instead, you grabbed your phone off the coffee table, which you’d pushed up against the couch to make space in the living room.

Your boyfriend frowned and swept his hands up in disbelief when you began scrolling on the little screen.

“Uh, hello?” he said. “Trying to teach here, Professor.”

You Google searched for a new restaurant your aunt Denise had told you about recently, and you showed him a snapshot of the menu.

“Wanna try out this new Latin place for lunch? They’ve got empanadas,” you said. “And lots of beef on the menu. Huh, Mr. Carnivore?”   

Beau blew out a subtle breath of exasperation.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna need you to take this a little more seriously,” he said.

You dropped your hand to your side with a tired huff.

“Babe, we’ve been at this for two hours. I’m tired. I’m sweaty. I’m hungry,” you full on whined now, grasping onto the front of his shirt, a gray one you’d accidentally shrunk a little in the wash. What once was loose on him, now stretched tight across his chest and wrapped snugly around his arms. (So all in all, you didn’t feel too bad about it.)

Beau grabbed your hand from his shirt and took your phone from you. He tossed it over onto the couch.

“I just want to go over a few more things,” he said.

“Come on, you’re usually the bottomless pit here. My stomach is going to eat itself,” you protested.

His lips twitched. “You’re being a tad dramatic, don’t you think? Now let’s go. Show me what you’re gonna do when I come at you head on.”

When Beau stepped forward, you mimed bringing the heel of your hand up to his face. He pretended to whip his head back, as if you’d really hit him. Complete with an exaggerated, Jim Carey-level sound effect of pain that almost got you to smile.

“Okay, good,” he nodded afterward. “But what if I grab your arm and get’cha turned around?”

He grasped your wrist next. He slowly twisted you around, until your left arm was behind your back. You sent him a narrowed look over your shoulder.

“I’m gonna break your damn nose for real if we don’t go eat,” you warned.

“Just give me twenty more minutes, and we’ll go. I promise,” he replied, trying to dim his smile. “Now humor me, would you? What’re you gonna do if I got you like this?”

You released a long-suffering sigh.

“Break your stance,” you intoned. You took your sneaker-clad heel and kicked back to tap it on the top of his boot. In reality, you’d be driving your heel into his foot, hard enough to try and break it. He moved his foot back before you could though.

“Nice try. Now what?” he challenged.

You used your free elbow to press into his right side below his ribs—and maybe you dug in a little harder than you needed to. He grunted slightly, but he nodded in approval and released your arm.

“Okay, good. The guy’s probably gonna loosen up enough for you to start running,” he said.

To your annoyance, he didn’t end the lesson there.

“Now, coming at ya from behind,” he said, wrapping his arms more fully around your frame, across your chest and under your breasts. His hold was firm, but not tight enough for you to feel his full strength.

This time, however, your body locked up with a bit of tension. You drew in a sharper breath. You knew you were safe in your boyfriend’s arms, but you had a sudden flash of memory in your mind’s eye.

You felt the phantom of a more threatening grip on your arms, shoving you hard into the side of your car, pressing you into the door with your cheek against the glass.

“Hey, you all right?” Beau prompted. It managed to break you out of your thoughts, and you realized that his hold was looser now. His voice was a touch softer, and his lips pressed to the side of your head, reminding you that it was just him. You were safe.

You squeezed his arms gratefully. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

This was why you’d agreed to these self-defense lessons in the first place. And you knew it wasn’t just for your own benefit. It made Beau feel better too, giving you back some control, and just knowing that you were better prepared.

Working through the trauma of everything you’d gone through in the past six months was an ongoing process; both your kidnapping this past summer, and Casey Sanderson attacking you at the college campus where you worked. You still got uneasy in the parking lot. 

“You sure?” Beau asked. “We can stop now if you need to.”

You shook your head. You didn’t want that flash of memory to be the reason you quit.

“No, let’s finish this,” you said.

After a moment, Beau nodded. His thumb stroked your shoulder before his hold firmed back up.

“Okay, how’re you gonna break my stance?” he asked.

Your lips formed a cheeky smile. You grabbed onto his arm wrapped across your chest and bit him, just firm enough to startle him a little.

“How about I bite your ass,” you teased. Though you soothed over the bite with a kiss, tasting the salty sweat dried on his skin. Beau cleared his throat. You couldn’t see it, but he was smirking.

“Sure. That’s one way to go about it,” he said with a chuckle. “Any other ideas?”

Hmm. You remembered the moves he’d taught you yesterday, but an idea struck you.

“Well, I could always just channel Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality,” you said.

“What?” Beau asked. You could tell, without even seeing his face, that his brows had drawn together in confusion.

“Oh, you don’t remember? It’s simple! S.I.N.G.,” you said, with a growing smile. “Solar plexus, instep, nose, groin…”

With each word, you once again bumped your elbow into his side, playfully stepped on his foot, and reached back to throw a mock elbow into the bridge of his nose. But on the last part of the acronym, you slid your hand down the inside of Beau’s thigh and grasped his length firmly through his activewear pants.

He released a strangled sound and let go of you. His hands instinctively moved to grip your arms tight.

“Very good,” he croaked out, and allowed you to turn around. You slowly rubbed your hand up and down his shaft until it hardened under your palm. Beau stared down at you with a new fire in his eyes, his mouth parting as an aroused groan escaped him.

Giving him a mischievous smile, you lowered to the ground onto your knees, hooking your nails on the waistband of his pants and underwear and taking them down along with you. It was good thinking on his part that you guys placed an exercise mat across the living room floor. It made this more comfortable on your knees, especially when you took almost the full length of his cock into your mouth.

“Aw, fuck,” Beau grunted. His fingers slipped into your hair. He couldn’t help but grip tight as you continued to salivate over him, dragging your soft, wet tongue across his velvety flesh. And you were relentless. Whatever you couldn’t take into your beautiful mouth, you stroked with your hand wrapped around the base.

You pulled your head back for a moment, just so you could tease his sensitive head. He moaned and bucked on reflex, driving himself deeper into your mouth again.

Oh, he was close already. You felt his thighs shaking, his cock throbbing. Your pussy clenched as well, with the memory of how he felt coming inside you. It had you quickening the pace of your lips and tongue drawing his release, and soon he spilled hot inside your mouth. You took and swallowed everything he had to give, sucking him clean.

It was too much. Beau shakily lowered to his knees, almost stumbling down to your level. He grasped your shoulders for balance first. Then he slid his hands down the gentle slope of your back and crushed you to his chest, where he bowed his head to claim you with a kiss.

Now it was his turn to be unrelenting. He hardly let you breathe with his lips moving passionately over yours. 

“Lesson over?” you panted, between kisses.

“Yeah,” he said roughly, though he chuckled. “Thank you, darlin’. You’ve been a model student.”

You smiled against his lips. Beau slid your shirt up and over your head before he laid you down on the mat. His kisses blazed a wet path down your neck and between your breasts, still covered by your satin bra.

“Thought we were going to lunch,” you said breathlessly.

Beau perked his head up and shot you a heated look, despite his grin. He began slowly dragging your tight-ass yoga pants down your hips and thighs, all the way down to your ankles. Your panties came next.   

“Oh, we are,” he said, sliding his hands back up your thighs. “All of a sudden, I’m real hungry.”

His mouth finding its way between your legs soon cut off the rest of your laughter. 

AN: Lol how'd you like that lesson in self-defense? 😘

And want more stories in the TMH-verse? I've missed these two. ❤️

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[ratsummer]

I think Phantom was fending for himself for years in the pit, running the circles from just about the age a ghoul can probably survive on their own. He was born into a small but loving pack, so he learned how to be a good ghoul kit, but once he was on his own, he didn't have anyone to socialize him as a young adult ghoul. Sure, he'd tag along with the odd band of ghouls here and there when the opportunity arose, but those alliances were born out of necessity and always quite brief.

All this to say, between his lack of guidance from adult ghouls, his trauma, and the neurodivergencies he was born with, Phantom has held on to a lot of ghoul kit behaviors.

When he's first summoned and meeting his new pack, everyone is on edge. He's small for a quint, and has a confusing blend of kit and adult behaviors. Once the infirmary ghouls have confirmed he is in fact an adult ghoul who chose of his own volition to respond to the summon, and not in fact a large kit they've accidentally abducted, everyone relaxes a bit.

At first, as they're learning about how Phantom was living for years prior to his summoning, emotions run high. They all hide it well from him, not wanting to frighten or burden him. Even so, there are many late nights in the den spent whispering and weeping as they process the things they learn of Phantom's past.

As time passes though, and Phantom settles in and gets comfier with all of them, the sadness and anger pass. They learn to interpret Phantom's unusual blend of behaviors, and they love him all the more. No one pressures Phantom to change, or tells him that he's doing something wrong. They accept him for who he is, and as long as he's not uncomfortable, embarrassed, or inadvertently harming himself, they're happy.

And oh, how they love their baby bat.

It took a while for Phantom to relax enough around anyone to purr at all, but now it's almost nonstop. Almost anything will set it off, too. Swiss walks into the same room as him? Purring. Mountain puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him still while he reaches over him for something in the kitchen? Purring. Dewdrop says good morning? Purring. When everyone gets together after a long day to cuddle in the den, Phantom's purrs stand out from the rest. He hasn't quite switched from the cooing, nasally purr of a kit into the rumbling, chest purr of an adult. He's slowly working into his chest purr, especially as he spends time cuddling on Mountain, Aether, and Swiss. Their purrs are deepest and most obviously resonating from their chests, making it easier for Phantom to imitate. Regardless of how he sounds, though, a purring Phantom is a happy Phantom is a Phantom getting many kisses.

Phantom is also working on scenting. The first person Phantom ever tried scenting was Dew, and boy was the fire ghoul confused at first. They were cuddled up on the couch, watching Cumulus teach Swiss some new crocheting techniques, when Phantom started headbutting him. To be fair, it was a gentle headbutting, really more bumping his face into Dew's jaw and nuzzling into him each time. Even so, it caught Dew off guard. Luckily, Rain was sitting on the opposite end of the couch and caught Dew's attention before he could react poorly. Dew, unlike Rain, had never really spent much time around ghoul kits, so failed to recognize Phantom's kit-like attempts at scenting. Rain mimed at him frantically until he got the memo and started scenting Phantom back. "Oh, Phantom," Rain chimed in soon after, "You're being such a lovebug for Dew. He likes gentler scenting though, sweetheart, do you want me to show you? Come here, it's my turn!" And of course, Rain instantly had a lapful of cooing, cuddly ghoul to coach, leaving Dew to roll around and be embarrassed over how in love with Phantom he is.

Phantom also kneads a lot more than most adult ghouls. While the others might do a little kneading here and there when they're feeling deeply sleepy and relaxed, Phantom seems to knead whether he's feeling calm or stressed. His most frequent victims are Cumulus, Swiss, Cirrus, and Mountain, and he kneads on whatever body part is closest. Tummies, thighs, arms, Cumulus even lets him get away with kneading on her boobs. He zones out hard when he starts kneading, almost slipping into a trance. They've all had to do a little correcting for Phantom with this behavior, just to show him how to keep his claws from hurting soft skin and to make sure he doesn't squeeze too hard. Sometimes, when he's having trouble being gentle, they'll pass him a stuffie or a pillow to work instead. He seems to knead the most during mass, Papa's chanting and the choral accompaniment relaxing him. Usually it's Mountain who will grab him when he starts getting glassy-eyed, holding him in his lap and letting him knead away at his arm.

Aether and Cirrus have spent a lot of time helping Phantom with his emotional regulation. Once he's feeling safe and secure with his new pack, that no one is going to hurt him if they notice him, he gets a bit too reactive when his emotions run high. When he messes up the same section of a song for the sixth time, he starts yelling and crying. When he slept poorly, he hisses and growls. When he trips down the last couple stairs in front of some siblings, he hides and mopes for hours, crying and skipping meals. Aether and Cirrus help him learn to identify how is body is reacting in a situation, and what emotion goes with it. They help him respond more calmly, so he doesn't hurt or frighten anyone. They teach him coping skills, like deep breathing, or leaving a room, or asking someone for a hug. It's not always easy, but Phantom is diligent and attentive, and with guidance he quickly finds techniques that work for him.

Yeah, idk. Just. I could go on and on. Phantom being a little different from what his new pack is used to and it's okay. It's not his fault. He's so full of love, and he finally gets to share it. He's so full of love, and his pack is thrilled that he shows them in his own way. Ugh. Nobody look at me.

[desatu]

I found a chart for some simpler clown breeds in case anyone was wondering about the breed of their beloved clown companion(s)

(I don't know who to credit as this has been re-posted on many platforms many times)

[moonstruckme]

ok i have a request/idea: gf reader on tour supporting bf rockstar!sirius but she starts to feel homesick being on the road for so long <33333 just feel like sirius would be so comforting and caring

I feel the same babe! Thank you for requesting <3

rockstar!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Even after months on tour, you don’t understand why rockstars need to smoke indoors. You’ve found a corner of refuge in the stranger’s house, siphoning fresh air from an open window, but you feel for James, grinning and bearing it while he talks to another band that performed tonight and makes nice with groupies while showing off pictures of his girlfriend back home. 

Part of you is still a bit awestruck that you get to go to these things, another part equally mystified at how routine it’s come to feel. During the first several nights of the tour, you’d been endlessly dazzled by the wealth you were suddenly surrounded with, the vibrancy of the people around you, the novelty of it all. The world had suddenly become so much larger, and everywhere you and the boys went everyone wanted to talk to them, buy you all drinks, invite you to parties and afterparties and after-afterparties. 

Sirius bears it beautifully, like this was always his destiny—in a lot of ways, you imagine it was—but sometimes when the two of you are alone he’ll confess to still feeling giddy that he and his friends have made it this big. You wonder if it’ll ever feel normal for him, the hugeness of it. You can tell by now that it never will for you. 

You’re still very impressed by the glamor of touring, you still have a good time on these nights out, but lately you’ve started to feel the distance between where you are and your real life. It’s almost as if before you could feel something invisible connecting you to home and, somewhere along on the road, it severed without you noticing. Now it just feels like a phantom limb, and when you try to recall the scent of you and Sirius’ kitchen or mime the way you have to jimmy your key to unlock the front door, you can’t manage it. 

You’re still thinking of the scent of your kitchen when it sidles up next to you. 

“You smell like garlic,” you tell Sirius, not without fondness. 

“God, it’s that potent, is it?” Your boyfriend’s tone speaks to a chagrin entirely unlike him, and he corroborates its falsity by caging you in his arms and touching his cheek to yours. You don’t mind, as he knew you wouldn’t. “I was given a choice, gorgeous, and I took a gamble.” 

“Mm. What was that?” 

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

You turn in his arms, tangling your fingers behind his back so you’re holding him as he is you. People start to give you a bit of berth, as one does for couples at parties, and selfishly you enjoy it. 

Touring is non-stop motion, a blur of people and places and sounds, and you miss the slow, quiet moments you and Sirius used to have more of. You’re with him all the time, but it doesn’t always feel like it. It hardly feels like you’re with yourself. Not his fault, not anyone’s, but not ideal. 

“It’s hardly one,” you say. 

“Which means” —he drops his lips to your eyebrow, speaking loudly to be heard over the music but just soft enough to have goosebumps skittering down your arms— “the fast food places will be closing in an hour. Fancy some grease, my love?” 

You tilt your chin up, pecking him on the lips. Truly, you don’t mind the garlic as much as you suppose you ought to. “Sure, let’s go.” 

Getting to the door is a melee, several people stopping you to try and pull Sirius back into conversation or ask if you’re going to the next party and such-and-such’s place in a couple hours, but when you do make it out the noise deadens and the air tastes clean. 

It’s a pleasant night, just cool enough to raise the hair on your arms and refresh your energy. Somewhere above you, the moon is hidden behind clouds, but still it’s bright enough that it casts a silvery glow in the areas not lit by streetlights. 

You make it a few paces down the block before Sirius is fisting his hand in the material of your shirt, spinning you around to face him. 

“Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” 

Only thrice between the hotel and when he went on stage. “No.” 

“Liar,” he says lovingly, leaning in to give you a kiss. 

You expect from his mood for it to be hot and indelicate, and you’d hardly have complained, but he closes his lips around yours softly. His hand loosens on your front, coasting upwards to cup your cheek, sweet and savoring. 

“Garlic knots,” he says as he pulls back. 

You’re unjustifiably breathless. “Hm?” 

“That was the choice I had to make. One of Ricky’s friends heated up garlic knots, and I wagered you’d prefer kissing someone who tasted like garlic over someone who tasted like cigarettes.” 

“It’s not just someone.” You grin at him, turning and taking his hand to keep walking. “I’ll always prefer kissing you. I would’ve done it either way, you know.” 

You can hear Sirius’ smile in his voice, your favorite sound. “Yeah, but I chose right, didn’t I?” 

“You did,” you confirm, and he gives your hand a triumphant squeeze. “I have no idea where I’m going, by the way. I don’t know why I took the lead.” 

He hums. “Do you ever think you might have one of those honing instincts? Like, the way bees are to their hive, that’s how you are with fast food. My honeybee,” he says it drawn out and extra saccharine, knowing you’ll hate it, and laughs when you let go of his hand and make to walk away from him. 

Sirius grabs for your hand back, tugging you close enough to get his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You don’t put up much resistance. 

“You’re spot on, sweetheart,” he says. “I clocked a McDonald’s just a few streets down when we were driving here.” 

A buzz of excitement goes through you. “Why are you so keen on McDonald’s all of a sudden?” Sirius is as happy with fast food as the rest of you, but you know he’s been enjoying the lavish meals the boys’ new manager pays for and having room service sent up at your hotel. “We can always have that at home.” 

“You’ve been talking about milkshakes for a couple of days now,” he says, “and you’re getting quiet. I recognize that mood. I missed home last summer, too.” 

“Really?” This is the boys' first big tour—they’ve already been on a shorter, less grandiose one you hadn’t come along for—but it’s hard for you to picture Sirius ever not enjoying it. He’s not someone who sets down roots, and with the way he talks about where he grew up you’ve never thought of him as getting particularly nostalgic for any sort of place. “I figured you’d feel most at home wherever James and Remus are.” 

“Yeah, but we’d left you behind. I was torn in two, gorgeous.” Sirius’ tone is doing that weird thing where it’s teasing but not. You can hear the sincerity lining his words. He mashes a kiss into the side of your head. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” 

“Because.” You take his hand where it’s draped over your shoulder, your fingertips dancing in between his own. “It’s not the sort of mood I’d like to give into if I can help it, and I’d rather be here with you than at home anyways, so it’s pointless. There was nothing you could do, baby.” 

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.” Sirius gives your fingers a playful squeeze. “You should always assume there’s something I can do, haven’t we been over this? Right now, I can get my girl a milkshake and some fries, and then I was thinking we could go find a park to eat them.” 

That sounds so unbelievably nice. You turn your head to smile at him, and find he’s already looking at you with a similar expression.

“And if more things come up that would make you feel better, I can try to make those happen. How does that sound, lovely girl?” 

You steal a kiss to his cheek, but Sirius doesn’t let you get away with just that, stopping to hold you in place so he can peck you properly on the lips. The neon sign of the McDonalds is close enough now to cast you in its glow. 

“You woo me more every day, do you know that?” 

“Yes, well,” says Sirius, wrapping his arm around you again to lead you the rest of the way, “I do have to prove myself better than home somehow, don’t I?”

[alynwdym]

SBG STREAMER AU

(Basically, this is about what would have happened if there was no Phantom Dimension and the entire SBG company were streamers)

Ashlyn:

● Nickname: LYN3TT3_X (or just Lyn)

● Content: Mostly plays games and does reactions to horror.

● Reason: Ashlyn is pretty emotionless, so she doesn't show fear in many games or videos. Viewers really want to see her get scared, so they ask her to play different horror games/watch horror movies. She also sometimes plays strategy games and people like her critical thinking in such games.

● Additional: Ashlyn also has specially configured donations that allow viewers to make scary screamers. Anyone who was able to scare Ashlyn in any way is given VIP on her streams, which give some cool features (You can count such people on one hand)

● Reason: Ashlyn started streaming when she once broke her leg during ballet. Her leg was put in a cast and she couldn't do ballet for 2 months. At this time, Ashlyn was alone at home and almost going crazy. One day, while watching the stream, she thought that she could do the same. Her first stream was 30 minutes long and she played a horror game. She only had one viewer and it didn't last long. She was quickly noticed and started gaining popularity.

Aiden:

● Nickname: 4C3cdc (or just Ace)

● Content: Dynamic games, puzzles, racing.

● Reason: Aiden is quite active and energetic. Many people like Aiden's activity and charisma. The way he plays different games is liked by viewers. Aiden also often completes different challenges.

● Additional: Aiden has a tradition of recording big donors and completing their different challenges.

● Why: As a child, when Aiden was left alone, he often watched different streamers and also wanted to become like them. For him, this also became a way to avoid loneliness. His first stream lasted an hour, where he chatted and played racing in a multiplayer. Some time later, he was noticed and he very quickly began to gain popularity.

Ben:

● Nickname: TheSilentMusician(Or just Mime)

● Content: Music streams using guitar, drawing.

● Reason: Ben is sweet and calm. Many people like how comfortable and calm his streams can be. Although he is always silent, this gives the stream its own atmosphere. Sometimes Ben holds streams where he just draws different things or his followers.

● Additionally: for donations, he draws different drawings and posts them all on his Instagram

● Why: After Ben lost his voice, he still wanted music and sharing it. He started streaming and playing the guitar. It is also calming for him and his psychologist supported his idea to start streaming.

Taylor:

● Nickname: GoodTwin(Or just Tay)

● Content: Roleplay games, multiplayer games and reactions.

● Reason: Taylor is a sweet and kind girl. Followers like how kind she plays different games and her touching reactions to videos with cats:) She often makes reactions than plays games. But most of all, she plays roleplay games with her insight. Completely immersing herself in the story of the game.

●Additional: Sometimes Taylor can play horror games, but she is always very scared of them. Therefore, many people donate specifically to complete horror games.

●Why: Taylor felt lonely and useless for some time. When her family needed money, Taylor wanted to get a job, but Tyler did not allow it. When she found out that streamers make money, she wanted to help her family in this way. She suggested Tyler to start streaming to earn money without getting a job. Streaming also helped her overcome feelings of loneliness.

Tyler:

● Nickname: EvilTwin (or just Ty)

● Content: Reaction games and competitive games.

● Reason: Tyler is pretty hot-blooded and rude. But viewers like his quick reactions. In games that require reaction, he has no equal. Many people like his audacity and how competitive he can be.

●Additional: Tyler has it specially set up so that certain donations from followers can interfere with him, so that the games are more interesting.

●Why: The Hernandez family needed money, but Tyler didn’t know where to get it. He couldn’t quit baseball and get a job, but he also couldn’t combine work. He already spends a lot of time training, so he was rarely home. He didn’t want to leave his mother alone, but he also needed money. When Taylor told him that streamers make money, he thought about starting a stream. Then Taylor suggested starting a stream and he agreed.

Logan:

● Nickname: Nerd (or just Lo)

● Content: Shooters and astrology.

● Reason: Logan is a sweet, shy guy. But despite this, he is a great shooter player. Many people like that a real sniper can hide under a timid boy who can beat a team of 5 players solo. Sometimes he can talk about astrology and explain the structure of the stars.

● Additional: Logan sometimes plays math games.

● Why: Logan was bored._. (I couldn't think of anything for him:,>)

Popularity rating within the group:

1. Aiden

2. Ashlyn

3. Tyler

4. Taylor

5. Logan

6. Ben

Interaction:

Tyler and Taylor are often present on each other's streams and do different collabs.

Aiden can sometimes be heard on Ben's streams. On Aiden's streams, you can see him and Ben together in a photo. Also, Ben and Aiden sometimes do collabs (most of Ben's audience are Aiden's followers)

Taylor sometimes mentions Ashlyn when she is asked to play a horror game. Like: "Is this the game Lyn played?"

Logan said that he would like to compete in shooters with Tyler.

Ashlyn and Logan are stepbrother and sister, they mention each other. And also, by Logan's decision, they once arranged a cooking stream (they destroyed the kitchen). After this stream, they never tried to do cooking streams again

(I LIKE BANNERS SIBLING AU! I WANT THEM TO BE HERE)

Interaction in life:

They all study in the same school. When they had a group work one day, they recognized their fellow streamers and started hanging out together little by little, gradually getting closer. When they finally became friends, they started doing different colabs with each other.

(Additional/Ship(?): Ashlyn's first viewer and follower was Aiden. Watching her made Aiden want to become a streamer too

Taylor always goes to Ben's streams when she's feeling anxious. His guitar playing helps her calm down)

((could someone create a fic for this au?))

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Hi!! I just read your newest and omg was it amazing! Would you be interested in writing something where Erik and reader have a bit of a language barrier (maybe they’re learning French but aren’t fluent yet) so they bring a French-English dictionary with them everywhere? They like talking to Erik but once in a while they have to stop in the middle of a passionate rant to look something up. Maybe they teach him some English too? Just had this idea and thought it might be interested as someone who pretty much spent two weeks in France wishing I was fluent…

i have had this sitting in drafts for so long i feel terrible. phantom of the opera erik destler x reader

warnings/tags- minor language barrier, i dont speak french.

word count-877 words

The first time you met Erik, you had barely enough French to order a coffee without embarrassing yourself.

"Un café, s'il vous plaît," you had murmured, hands shaking, heart racing. The words felt foreign in your mouth, but you had practiced them religiously. The waiter had nodded, unfazed, and you had nearly wept in relief.

Now, standing before Erik in the dim glow of his underground home, you wished ordering coffee was the most difficult thing you'd have to say.

"You insist on carrying that thing with you everywhere?" he asked, gesturing at the thick French-English dictionary clutched in your arms. His voice was like velvet wrapped around a razor's edge, both amused and sharp.

You held the book tighter. "Oui. Yes. It helps."

He made a sound of mild disapproval, folding his arms across his chest. "You should learn naturally. You rely too much on that book."

"You are learning!" you shot back, only to hesitate. "I mean, j'apprends!"

He smirked. "Hardly."

"Oh, shut up."

His golden eyes gleamed. "Tu devrais dire 'taisez-vous,' ma chère."

You groaned and flipped open your dictionary, determined to find a better retort. He waited, amused, as you traced your finger along the pages. After a moment, you found what you were looking for.

"Vous êtes insupportable," you declared triumphantly.

He laughed, a rare and unexpected sound. "Well said."

Conversations with Erik were exhilarating, even when they felt like linguistic duels. He had a way of drawing words out of you, forcing you to rely less on your book and more on your instincts. Still, sometimes you just needed your trusty dictionary, much to his chagrin.

"You saw the most incredible thing today!" you burst into his lair one evening, flushed with excitement. "There was this—oh, how do you say—" you flipped through the pages, scanning frantically. "Ah! Un jongleur! A juggler!"

"A juggler?" he echoed, one brow arching in amusement. "And this excites you?"

"Yes! He was juggling—" you paused, flipping again. "Um. Les torches en feu?"

"Flaming torches," Erik corrected, sighing as if exhausted by your effort. "You could have simply mimed it."

"You could have," you admitted, "but where's the fun in that?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You are insufferable."

"Oh? Et vous êtes insupportable!"

He snorted. "Touché."

In exchange for your relentless attempts at French, you had begun teaching Erik some English. He resisted at first, declaring the language to be inelegant and crude, but curiosity eventually won out.

"Say it again," he demanded one evening, eyes narrowed in concentration.

"'The music is beautiful.'"

"Ze musique ees... beautifool."

You bit your lip, suppressing a smile. "Close! It's 'beautiful.'"

"Beautifool."

"Try 'bee-yoo-ti-ful.'"

He growled under his breath, glaring at the invisible force preventing him from mastering the pronunciation. "Bee-yoo-ti-ful."

"Yes! That was perfect!"

He looked pleased for a brief moment before scowling again. "This language is ridiculous."

"Maybe. But now you can compliment your own music in two languages."

He sighed dramatically. "A necessary skill, I suppose."

You laughed. "Exactly."

Over time, your language barrier became less of an obstacle and more of a game. You would tease him with complex English words, and he would retaliate with intricate French phrases, smirking when you fumbled them.

One evening, as you sat together in the candlelight, you flipped through your dictionary absentmindedly. "Erik, how do you say... 'I am happy here'?"

He watched you for a long moment before replying, his voice softer than usual. "Je suis heureux ici."

You repeated it carefully. "Je suis heureux ici."

His expression was unreadable, but something in his eyes shifted. "Good. You are improving."

You smiled. "Merci."

He hesitated, then murmured, "Thank you."

Surprised, you looked up. His English pronunciation was impeccable this time, though his voice carried an unfamiliar vulnerability.

Maybe, just maybe, you were learning more than just words.

Time passed, and soon enough, the dictionary spent more time closed than open. Your French was far from perfect, and Erik still struggled with certain English words, but your conversations flowed easier now.

One evening, after a particularly animated discussion about poetry, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. "You never told me your favorite poem."

Erik regarded you for a moment before replying, "Demain, dès l'aube."

You blinked, unfamiliar with the title. Reaching for your dictionary, you hesitated. "Can you... recite it?"

He nodded, then began, his voice like silk wrapping around the verses.

"Demain, dès l'aube, à l'heure où blanchit la campagne, Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m'attends."

You listened, entranced, the words foreign yet melodic. You caught pieces of it—"tomorrow, at dawn," "I will leave," "I know you wait for me"—but you wanted to understand more.

"Wait," you murmured, flipping through the dictionary. He reached out and stopped you, his hand warm over yours.

"No book. Just listen."

So you did.

As he continued, you found yourself catching meaning not just through words, but through the emotions in his voice, the way his tone softened and deepened. Maybe language wasn't just about translations and definitions. Maybe it was about connection, about understanding without needing perfection.

When he finished, there was silence between you, comfortable and profound.

"That was beautiful," you said finally.

He tilted his head. "That was... bee-yoo-ti-ful?"

You grinned. "Perfect."