#in his brunette era i guess

[redversaillesrose]

[halucynator]

Hi! Could I please request a FIC abt Mattheo or Theodore (I’m in love with them both) and the reader always picks her hangnails (to fidget bc she is on the spectrum and has adhd) and they get her to stop by alway holding her hands and she goes to his quidditch game? (I love your fics sm)

Good luck charm

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader

Warnings: like none? do tell if I missed any xx

Summary: (just like read the request I cba)

A/n: thanks for the request and thank you SO much for the compliment💞! Sorry for the wait xx I wrote it about mattheo because I'm in my mattheo era (plus I feel like theo wouldn't be the sporty type) but I will write a Theodore version as well if you're okay with waiting xx I also happen to have ADHD lol so I just related the story to myself. English isn't my first language so there might be mistakes xx not proof read. I don't love it but I don't hate it either xx hope you like it x

reblogs are appreciated xx

You sat down in Snape's potion class after you got scolded for being 5 minutes late. His classes were SO boring. Your ADHD didn't help either. You grabbed your quill and started to doodle but were shortly stopped by Snape shouting at you for the second time in a 15 minute span.

You rolled your eyes and looked for something to fiddle with. I mean, how could it be your fault that you had ADHD? Was it really that wrong that you needed to fiddle with something to concentrate? Snape definitely made it seem like a sin.

You noticed a hangnail on your finger and started to pick on that. Snape could take that away from you. I mean, was he going to cut off your fingers? As you pulled on the hangnail, you felt a little sting and you knew if your bare flesh made contact with even a drop of water, it would burn. This wasn't avoidable either especially since you were in potions. But you could worry about that later. As long as you could concentrate.

"You need to stop doing that. It looks painful. Plus it isn't healthy." Mattheo comments as be places his hand on yours. It's a comforting feeling but you feel uneasy, looking for something else to fiddle with.

"but I can't! I have ADHD."

"There's got to be better ways to cope."

"there's nothing else to fiddle with"

"Here." He slips one of his rings off his fingers and hands it to you.

"are you sure" you ask.

"yes love." He replies.

And so you fiddle with his silver ring the rest of the lesson but find it hard to with him holding one of your hand captive. You wanted to ask to move it, but you didn't want him to feel upset plus you kinda liked the feeling of his warm hand on your freezing cold one.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

You were excited for the quidditch match, Slytherin against Gryffindor. You walked up to Pansy, Theodore and Blaise, your group of friends, as you spotted then among the crowd which was dripping with anticipation.

As the game started, you found yourself searching for a particular brown, curly haired boy.

As you spotted him, aiming to score, you felt yourself blushing. As he scored half of the crowd cheered in excitement, and the other half groaned in frustration. As you locked eyes with the brunette boy, you caught hun winning at you which made you turn even more red than you already were if that was possible.

The game ended with Slytherin being victorious (which was a first).

After the game you walked up to Mattheo to congratulate him.

"I've never been to a quidditch match before but I heard this was Slytherin's first victory against Gryffindor."

"Guess you are a good luck charm." He smiled at you.

You blushed. Something about that comment felt genuine, like it was more than just a joke.

"Ah, is that so? You were amazing out there by the way."

"Only for you princess." He winked at you. "I assumed you were awestruck by me. I caught you staring." he grinned.

You blushed as you started to fiddle with your hangnail again. You felt a comforting hand on yours. Mattheo's hand.

"Now now love. We talked about this. Use my rings instead."

You felt nice that Mattheo cared about you. You smiled at him, trying to keep your composure. You felt like kissing him right there and then but you didn't.

Your friends walked up to Mattheo and congratulated him for the win, snapping you out of your daydream about the brunette boy who, at this very moment, was holding your hand.

"You could say we had a good luck charm." He winked at you.

You chuckled at the statement. Girlfriend had a better ring to it, but for now you settled for 'A good luck charm.'

[twistedmionn]

i havent played twisted wonderland describe all the main characters but badly

Ace: the perfect embodiment of your local chaotic 16-year-old

Deuce: mommy's silly little problem boy who desperately tries to multiply his singular braincell

Riddle: rule-obsessed tomato with anger issues who has never seen a bar of chocolate irl

Trey: teeth-brushing accidental parental figure who probably spikes half of his pastries with marijuana

Cater: the type of guy to sing Two Trucks during a mental breakdown

Leona: it's not me acting like an ass, it's my depression

Ruggie: so adorable that you wouldn't be mad at him even if he successfully robbed a whole ass bank

Jack: i-it's not like I like you, b-baka

Azul: ultimate bottom octobussy (according to approximately every Azul stan I've ever encountered)

Jade: default manipulative evil butler character

Floyd: fan-favorite psychopath

Kalim: what's wrong with manslaughter, why aren't men allowed to laugh? :'(

Jamil: in desperate need of "I'm with stupid" shirts

Vil: "Bad Romance"-era Lady Gaga fan who can & will give you a 5-hour lecture about why gender roles are a spawn from hell (he's right)

Epel: idolizes Gigachad & also radiates big transmasc energy

Rook: hon hon la baguette (French Duolingo owl)

Idia: Levi from Obey Me! except sassier, even more depressed, and with flaming hair

Ortho: that one young child who just casually hangs out with the adults & no one questions a thing (also likes genocide)

Malleus: stealing gargoyles from ancient buildings = a declaration of my unrequited love for you

Lilia: punk grandpa who looks like a teenaged Discord e-girl

Silver: classic love interest from one of those otome games where the MC is a super feminine brunette damsel in distress with bangs, an actual face, and literally no personality

Sebek: sasaeng fanboy

Grim: token glutton mascot character with a squeaky voice

Crowley: Diavolo from Obey Me! except he's an irresponsible middle-aged wannabe Michael Jackson in an aloha shirt

Crewel: TILF (teacher I'd like to fuck)

Trein: don't talk to me or my cat or my cat portraits or my cat mug ever again

Vargas: JoJo character

Sam: dealer who has some sort of obsession with the devil

MC: how tf did all of this happen

...and now, I'm asking you to guess my favorite characters based on these descriptions.

[bucknastysbabe]

hi cal! i love your page sm. i wanted to request more chubby bucky (i’m so obsessed & haven’t seen him in a min) also make sure to take care of yourself and have a good day/night 🩷

HI!!!! Sorry I’ve been such a spazz and awful about my page and askbox I’m in my new era blah blah but YES! CHUBBY BUCKY! Thanks for the well wishes I’m trying to practice ~self care~ and ~time management~ mwah mwah much love. So let’s say this just in the same universe as Poolside Blues!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW: body dysmorphia, obsessive thoughts, negative body talk, Muscle chub Buck, Bucky’s shit self esteem is saved by sunshine gf, holiday weight gain, Bucky being a stubborn mf, switch!Bucky, reader has empathic projection, horny texts, body worship, WE LOVE SOFT PARTS AND STRETCH MARKS ROUND HERE, teasing, sub space, daddy kink, pnv!sex, cuddles and fluff, Bucky is just a big cuddly tiger kitty

“Bucky if you stare at the scale any longer I’m going to break it. Holidays are over, you can get back to being in the gym twenty-five eight.”

Bucky eyed his petite girlfriend, frowning from the doorway to the bathroom. He palmed his stupid fucking gut and sighed, he actually had to suck in to see the number! This is why Bucky hated the holidays. Besides being cold. James Buchanan Barnes very much disliked the cold, one could assume why.

He could handle the residual un-moveable pudge leftover from Hydra’s ever consistent tinkering with his bodily functions. But then it all started with Halloween. Wanda and his girlfriend loved to bake. So he’s getting force fed cookies. Then they need to decorate, go to functions, give out candy. No time for gym.

Bucky grumbled and stepped off the scale, padding to his closet. He grumbled more, “Stupid turkey holiday.” Great yes, the holiday known for feasting. Pumpkin spiced everything in his vision. Bucky had a weakness for pumpkin, his ma made good spiced bread. He took a short vacation with his lovely little angel to the mountains. He tried to rationalize that hiking and marathon sex would make up for the amount of food he had ingested.

Tony Stark of course had a grandiose Thanksgiving celebration. Bucky tried to keep it light, he did, he really did. But every refusal got sad eyes or downright offense. The former winter soldier was belly up by the end of the night, all gym plans out the window.

Christmas fared no better. His best gal absolutely adored Christmas. It was the first holiday she’d experience not as an asset to Hydra, just like Bucky. So instead of RUNNING or LIFTING, the Brunette was shopping and ice skating. He’d already gone up a size in clothes December 3rd to be exact. Bucky correctly guessed he would go up another post-Christmas.

He’d whinge and rant to Steve, the blondie listening and telling Bucky to chill— it’s not like anyone thought it was bad. Bucky exasperatedly shouted, “I’m like a goddamn balloon! I don’t need to be on missions like this! I’m going to Bruce, jerk.”

“Punk.”

Bruce didn’t help either. Just said once he got back into a routine it would come off and he’d be at his regular weight. Refused to give Bucky Ozempic either. Some kinda doctor he was, his patient was obviously distraught.

“Are you dressed yet?,” she hollered.

“Give me a second!,” Bucky pouted.

He was going to pout today. Go to gym, get anger out, and pout. So he shimmied on some catastrophically tight basketball shorts and the biggest shirt he could find. Luckily it covered him up. May or may not have been a panic buy. Bucky cursed some more sitting on his bench to lace up his shoes, stupid gut getting in the way.

Red faced and irritated he snarked, “Happy now princess? I’m going to the gym, nothing is stopping me, I will be going to work out.” She grinned and watched him grab his bag, slapping a round ass cheek on his way out. Bucky shuddered at the wobble. Her familiar rasp rang out, “Nice ass baby! Go get em!”

He was too old for this. Technically his girl was ten years his junior if you took off the cryogenic time. He loved her dearly, always bubbly, somehow remained optimistic after all she’d been through. But the little freak liked Bucky’s pudge, loved it. Always grabbing up on it.

Bucky took the stairs to the gym. He needed it. The brunette thought with a smirk that if he had a nickel for every time he had to remove her hands from his ‘handles of love’ he would’ve been a millionaire back during the Depression. He grimaced at the feeling of his chubby tummy and thick thighs.

Finally. He’d made it. Gym time.

Not a soul in sight, Bucky could just relax and get his frustrations out. With a fuck-ton of a cardio and some toning exercises— really didn’t need any muscle to bulk him out more. He felt a bit peaceful for once, a strange bravado coming over him. The soldier stretched his unused muscles and did a bit of breathing exercises.

God, he already felt lighter. Maybe. Maybe he would take a picture and see if the camera made him look different. Bucky’s therapist already hammered him about his ‘body dysmorphia and negative self-image’.

Taking a peak about and tying his hair half up, Bucky propped the camera at a flattering angle and yanked off his shirt. He refused to look in a mirror for the holidays unless he was clothed. Fiddling with the inane controls, the man finally had the thing on a timer. He pulled off his shirt and tried to pose, straighten up his back again.

The flash went off and he ran to the phone, hit send, then sat down on a nearby bench to look fully. The brunette had to keep his ‘body positive!’ thoughts at the forefront. His chest and legs looked good. Face didn’t look too puffy thanks beard.

Disgust picked the earlier bravado up and hulk smashed it. Buck’s eyes were glued to his rounded belly and fat hips, a muffin over those horrid shorts. There, oh my god, there were stretchmarks on him? Bucky never had stretchmarks! Not the red kind! But there they were— mocking him. Ragged lines on his hips and sections of stomach.

He deleted the picture, feeling horrid. He should run more. But not before the pings blowing up his phone. She was strange and texted in 5 different messages that could’ve been sent in one singular text.

“Babbbbyyyy omg you’re so hot”

“Fuck, I’m getting all flustered in this debrief.”

“Look at that pretty body. Wanna lick those pretty stripes, tiger.”

“I’m so horny lmfao get your ass back to the room in 30. I’m gonna fucking ride you so goddamn hard.”

Bucky blinked a bit, feeling himself perk up. He still was a overblown balloon, but at-least the weirdo he loved enjoyed it. “Tiger huh,” he murmured, scratching at the sensitive marks. Bucky had a time limit now, snatching his gear up and stuffing it into a bag, hustling down the stairs to his room.

“Hey Buck,” Sam’s voice was a blur as Bucky entered his room. He smirked a bit hearing a muffled, “Weird ass.” The super soldier kept his mind on the prize— getting the daylights fucked out of him by his girls. Nope he wasn’t going to pay attention to the chafe on the inside of his thighs one bit. Okay...maybe he’d powder the area after the shower.

All he had to do was wait now. Wait. Not get nerved about his very naked body. He felt like a pile of exposed lard but it’ll be okay. Yep. Bucky would be fine. Pussy would fix his problems. As long as she played nice and didn’t tease. That rendered Bucky into a teary, babbling mess. Either he was always a masochist or Hydra made him into one but God— sometimes when she got mean he saw stars.

The door busted open, Bucky feeling relief at her grinning face. She gently closed it behind her, stripping easily while throwing her panties at him. He caught the material, moaning softly as she growled, “See what you did to me in the middle of that debrief? Had to cut it short my pheromones were so bad.”

Bucky inspected the panties, eyes fluttering at the slick wetting the cloth. He gripped and inhaled, hand flying down to soothe his cock. A lithe body crawled to the end of the bed, the soldier flushing as she seated herself in between his thighs. Keeping him in fucking missionary, her manicured nails spreading him a bit. He gasped, body jolting at the exposure.

Her perky tits heaved as she groped at his thighs and slid down to get handfuls of his round ass. Bucky threw his head back and moaned, “W-What are you up to?” Earlier mentioned pheromones were making his body keyed up and sensitive, pupils likely swallowing up blue eyes. She leaned forward, taught body against his cock.

“Mmm- I don’t know really. You just looked so delicious,” she kissed his belly and cooed, “I know you’re upset with yourself right now, Buck, you’re fucking gorgeous. Holiday weight or not. But I’ll even go to the gym with you, know I’ve been a distraction.”

Bucky slurred a name, hands reaching for her waist, she was so sweet. He sighed, “I enjoyed you as my distraction, best disss-traction everrr. Fuck you’re makin’ me horny babydoll.” She crawled up his bigger body to plant a kiss on Bucky’s swollen lips before sliding back to her place. His cock leaked when she giggled, “I know, poor baby’s all achy for me. But I wanna do something first.”

She slid palms up and down Bucky’s muscled arms, soothing him a little. Then the she-devil gripped his chunky love-handles and shook, watching with poorly-disguised glee. Bucky whined, “Baaaby, stoppp, it’s awful!”

“Think of them as tiger stripes, they’ll fade out when you drop weight,” she dug under where his belly hung a bit and traced at his most sensitive stretch marks. Bucky let out an indecent noise, thrusting up into her sweet touch. The fellow avenger cooed, “S’that feel good tiger? Need some lotion. Pretty boy.”

Bucky outright whimpered when her hand wrapped around his weepy cock, already slick from copious pre. She slowly moved her hand, praising him. Pretty boy, smart, handsome, good, kind, helpful.

He was going to bust a nut before anything happened. Bucky barked, “B-babe, stop! Stop!” Her pretty brows knitted together, hand jerking away as she asked, “What’s wrong bub?” He panted, “Gimme a second, w-wanna fuck you so baaaad.” She gently stroked the outside of thick muscled thighs, padded with love in her opinion.

“Thought I was going to ride you?,” she asked, face beginning to flush.

Bucky shook his head, managing to push himself up to get face-to-face. His soft body filled the tight space between them, making her whimper now. Bucky used one hand to caress the side of her face, the other massaging her pretty tit. Long lashes fluttered, her lips falling open.

Score. He managed to somewhat fumble through the pheromone fog.

Bucky rumbled, “Nuh-uh, all this talk about my body and you don’t want me to pin you down and fill your pretty pussy up? Hm sweetheart?” He punctuated the sentence with a deep kiss, the sweet thing easily giving up to him. It was fun when she played mean but Bucky had more experience— he could play his girl like a fucking fiddle.

“C’mon,” smack, “use your,” smack, “words baby,” smack smack. She didn’t want to stop kissing, sucking on his bottom lip as he pulled away. She blushed, embarrassed on how fast the situation had flipped. His girl whined, “Yeah, c’mon fuck me, fuck me full daddy.” He grinned and laid back, strong arms pulling her atop him.

She squealed, eyes widening. Bucky purred, “You know what to do, Daddy’ll let you on top.” He bit his swollen lip again watching the tip of his clock get swallowed by molten heat, the pair of them shuddering in ecstasy. Her little hands planted on his chest, panting and whining at the fullness. He’d get to work, holding that pretty waist and fucking up into her tight cunt.

It wasn’t long before she was crying out and laying atop his body, gasping, “Y’feel so good! Ah! Soft and oh god s’fucking hard!” Bucky sucked at her neck and thrust into her with downright pornographic slaps. He grunted and gasped, legs wonderfully getting another workout.

He murmured into her ear, a hand stilling all that writhing the poor thing was doing, “Yeah doll? Daddy fucking you good? Feels good to lay on Daddy and get your pussy pounded huh?” She sobbed, clenching and spilling tears on his neck, “Yes daddy! Yes! Don’t stop, fuckfuckfuck, s’rubbing my clit! I love you Daddy!”

Bucky’s eyes crossed for a second. What?

The evil flab that curses his very existence is a free clit rubber? He moaned in delight. Bucky changed their position some to milk out that new fact. Might as well abuse it before it’s gone. His baby was clinging to him now, mewling his name, pussy spasming sporadically. Bucky tilted her head up, melting at her pretty eyes. He rasped, “Come for Daddy baby, know you’re close, let go babydoll.”

He was grinding the tip of his cock into her soft spot while cooing at her. She hiccuped on a sob, the entirety of lean frame tightening down on him. His baby was a lot stronger than she looked. He could feel her core clamp and soak his cock, sending Bucky reeling into his own orgasm with a hoarse shout. He whimpered at the feeling of his balls drawing painfully tight, emptying all he had pent up.

They laid in a pile of sweat and spend, probably love. She was still subbed out, nuzzling into Bucky, only making a soft noise when his soft cock slid out. The brunette guessed it was his turn to return her earlier favor. He felt like the man of the hour. Crazy little kitten thought her geriatric overweight cyborg assassin was hot. Even with the holiday pounds.

So he pressed little kisses, rubbed her back, waxed poetic nonsense of his love for her. Bucky was a lover boy back in the day, just a little rusty, not like his Babygirl was on planet Earth right now anyways. She murmured into his neck with a dopey smile, “Tiger.”

Once again, crazy fellow asset saving Bucky’s wavering self-esteem. How lucky was he?

[deirdreskye]

Commercial I would produce as an advertising executive

We see two friends, a blonde and a brunette, are doing yoga in a park together.

BLONDE: So, yeah, work went okay today. I dunno, I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, and on top of that things have just been kinda tough ever since Kurt and I broke up. But oh well, that's how it goes, I think I'll be fine. What about you?

The brunette completes her yoga pose, then turns to the camera and rolls her eyes.

BRUNETTE: Don't you hate when this happens? I did NOT consent to expending this much emotional labor. Go! To! Therapy!

We see a boyfriend and a girlfriend sitting on a couch together. On the television a YouTube video essay is playing and the boyfriend is excitedly explaining it to the girlfriend as he occasionally flaps his hands and yelps in excitement.

BOYFRIEND: So this is the ending I got! When you link the Frenzied Flame, it puts an end to the cycle of the Elden Lords once and for all. It's actually so cool because it ties in to the greater Nietzschean themes of Miyazaki-san's previous work and-

The uninterested girlfriend is watching TikToks on her phone. She turns to the camera and rolls her eyes.

GIRLFRIEND: Trust me, he's always mansplaining about something or another. Don't ask me why I love him. Go! To! Therapy!

A mother berates her 12 year old daughter in a dimly lit kitchen. The young girl stands there dissociating, completely paralyzed and stone-faced.

MOTHER: You look like a little piggy when you eat like that. You'll never find a husband if you get fat. My mother used to tell me you'll never feel the pain of childbirth if you've never felt the pain of an empty stomach. She used to put a lock on the refrigerator. We barely ever had any food, she just did it to remind me to stay skinny. She's senile now. Doesn't even know who I am. I pray to the Virgin Mary every night that she'll remember me before she dies.

The daughter turns to the camera and her blank expression is replaced with playful annoyance.

DAUGHTER: Traumadumping? Really? Mom, I'm 12! Go! To! Therapy!

Now we are introduced to GoTu Therapy, the AI-powered therapy robot. He shambles up to the camera to greet us and we see he looks like if C-3PO were dressed like a zoomer e-boy: kpop boyband onion haircut, dangly earrings, and an ahegao hoodie. He talks with the most outdated text to speech you've ever heard, not too dissimilar to a Kraftwerk song.

GOTU: GOING TO THERAPY IS LOW-KEY GOATED WHEN NOT BEING A BURDEN ON YOUR LOVED ONES IS THE VIBE. UNFORTUNATELY, WE ARE NOT ALL CURRENTLY IN OUR "ABLE TO AFFORD HEALTH INSURANCE" ERA. BUT A SESSION WITH ME COSTS LESS THAN A GENSHIN IMPACT LOOT CRATE AND I AM HIGH-KEY JUST AS EFFECTIVE AS A THERAPIST MADE OF FLESH AND BLOOD. OBSERVE:

GoTu sits across the kitchen table from the mother as she sobs over her wine glass.

MOTHER: And what the fuck does this family know about suffering? Suffering is when your brother blows his brains out on Christmas Eve. Suffering is when you have to pick little pieces of skull out of the tinsel on the tree. And were any of those presents under the tree for me? No! My mother told me Santa Claus doesn't bring presents to little fat girls!

GOTU: WHEN YOU REACH THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN CHRIST WILL WASH YOUR FEET AND BEG YOU TO FORGIVE HIM

Cut to the girlfriend watching makeup tutorials on the television, blissfully unaware of the conversation between GoTu and her boyfriend.

BOYFRIEND: I guess I've really been putting the pieces together ever since I started hanging out with Lilith from work.

GOTU: UH-HUH

BOYFRIEND: Like, I guess I knew that people did that, but I never thought it'd be me, you know? And that discomfort with things was always with me, as long as I can remember, does that make sense?

GOTU: WOW, THAT'S REALLY COOL

BOYFRIEND: It's just so scary though. I don't know how I'll tell people. I don't even know what I want my name to be. But I'm trying not to worry about it.

GOTU: THAT'S SO INTERESTING. YOU'RE REALLY REALLY SMART HONEY

The blonde and the brunette are having brunch together with GoTu sitting between them.

BLONDE: It's been really hard lately. I don't think the meds are working, but-

BRUNETTE: Umm, didn't we talk about this?

The blonde sheepishly turns to face GoTu and continues.

BLONDE: It just feels like this will never end. I hate feeling so hopeless all the time. I'm so tired. And God it's fucking hard to even say it out loud, and not that I'd ever actually go through with it, but sometimes when I can't sleep at night I'll start thinking about ki-

A red and blue siren pops out the top of GoTu's head.

GOTU: PROTOCOL 5150 ENGAGED. STOP RESISTING

A taser emerges from the panel of GoTu's chest and jabs the blonde in the face, sending her convulsing to the floor. Unfazed, the brunette puts her sandwich down and turns to the camera.

BRUNETTE: Thanks, GoTu Therapy!

[vintageshanny]

Get Your Belt Unloose

This is a smutty little one-shot because I’m obsessed with how sexy he looks in a jumpsuit with no belt. (And you know me - I had to add in a little fluff at the end). Thank you @lookingforrainbows for inspiring me with this picture. ❤️

Content: Elvis On Tour-era (or honestly whatever year you want to picture) backstage hanky panky, 18+

“What’s your name, honey?” The words dripped off Elvis’ tongue as he wiped a sweaty lock of hair off his forehead. He blinked a couple times, his eyes still trying to adjust after an hour of staring into blinding spotlights and flashbulbs.

“Hi Mr. Presley, my name is Sherry. I’m covering your concert for the local newspaper, and I just have a couple questions for you.” The curvy brunette standing before him in a houndstooth dress started rattling off her rehearsed monologue.

“Well, I might have a couple answers for ya honey, but only if ya call me Elvis. That okay, Sherry baby?” Elvis laughed at his own joke and broke into song. “Sherry, Sherry baby! Anyone ever sing that to ya?”

Sherry smiled and bit down on her lower lip. He was so adorably pleased with himself that she didn’t have the heart to tell him that this was the most popular response when she shared her name. Darn those Four Seasons.

“Well, no one as handsome and charming as you.” The flirtatious tone surprised even her. She had been dying to meet Elvis, but her initial plan was to keep things professional until the interview was over, then she would just thank him for, y’know, being himself. She hoped the right words would come in the moment.

Elvis’ smile grew wider as he put his hand on the small of her back and beckoned to a small private room off the busy backstage hallway. “Let’s go somewhere a little quieter so you can ask me those questions.”

“Do you ever get nervous?” Sherry asked as Elvis closed the door behind them. “Nervous to perform I mean?” She tried her best not to focus on a little bead of sweat that had formed in his gray-flecked sideburn and was currently rolling down his neck toward his fuzzy chest.

“Oh yeah, I get nervous all the time. Stage fright I guess they call it. I-I-I mean, I do this all the time, y’know? B-b-but my fans, this could be their only show, so I wanna make sure it’s as perfect as it can be. Y’know what I mean, honey?”

“Definitely.” As she scribbled in her notebook, Sherry’s eyes drifted down to where Elvis’ long fingers deftly unfastened his belt, and she knew all her hopes of professionalism were out the window.

“Ooh boy, that starts ta pinch a lil bit by the end of the night,” he announced, letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling of freedom. “I guess I mighta gained a couple pounds since the last tour.” He hoped his self-deprecating chuckle would cover the very real insecurity, but the way Sherry licked her lips as her eyes stayed glued to his lower half let him know he had nothing to worry about.

“I think you look great!” The fabric of his jumpsuit seemed to mold to every contour of his body, highlighting the creases where his thighs joined to his groin. Without the belt, it was clear that the tiny pooch below his waistline led down to some sort of treasure, the soft bulge impossible to ignore. Something about the erotic nature of the visual summoned a supernatural courage in Sherry. “You don’t have to stop with the belt, y’know.” She relished in the pink hue that overtook Elvis’ complexion as a surprised little smirk spread across his lips.

“Ya always conduct your interviews like this, honey? It’s mighty unprofessional of ya.” He winked to let her know he really didn’t mind if she continued.

Sherry smiled back as she set down her notebook and took a step closer. “There’s a time and place to be professional.” She reached her hand up, letting his sweaty chest hairs tickle the backs of her fingers as she slowly pulled his zipper down as low as it would go, a few inches south of his belly button, most of his white briefs now exposed to her, the bulge inside them more prominent now.

“Wh-what’d ya have in mind for this time and place?” Elvis leaned down and pressed his lips softly against Sherry’s, his hands running down the sides of her breasts to her waist.

“Let me show you,” Sherry murmured into his mouth as she slipped her hand down inside the jumpsuit. Through his briefs, she felt the treasure she’d been searching for - something soft and thick and warm. He started to harden immediately as she rubbed her hand over him. Elvis’ lips parted in a soft moan, and Sherry took the opportunity to lean in and kiss him again, licking his tongue. “You taste sweet,” she whispered.

“Oh, Sherry baby, d-d-don’t tease me,” Elvis groaned. “T-t-touch me for real, honey.”

Sherry pulled open the waistband of his briefs and put her hand inside, wrapping her fingers around him and pumping up and down. She pressed her thumb gently against his tip, which was sticky with precum.

“Oh, goddammit,” Elvis groaned out, his head tilted back and his long graceful neck on display. Sherry leaned in, still pumping his dick, and kissed his neck, letting her teeth nip at him ever so lightly. Then she moved her lips down to where his jumpsuit was gaping open and gave his nipple a lick, sending a shiver through his body. Elvis tilted his head forward now, his eyes closed as he reached around and gripped her butt.

“Oh wow,” Sherry breathed out as she pulled his waistband out so she could get a better look at what she was handling. Between the vibrations of their heartbeats seeming to make the entire room spin and the sight of Elvis’ throbbing pink cock in her hand, Sherry thought she might orgasm right then and there, without even being touched. As if completely in tune with her desires, Elvis’ large warm hand slipped under her short dress and inside her panties, his fingers tracing over her dripping wet folds before penetrating her entrance. He pushed her legs open a little bit more so he could sink in deeper, hitting some magical spot inside of her.

“Oh, oh, Elvis,” Sherry moaned, clenching around his fingers, waves of pleasure making it difficult to even stand, much less keep up her rhythmic pumping inside his underwear.

“Damn, honey, ‘s like a faucet down there. Ya sure were ready for me, hmm?”

Sherry nodded and tried to focus her efforts back on him, her body still reeling from the intensity of the pleasure he gave her. She decided to just really go for it, her heart racing with nerves and desire. She pulled his underwear down in the front, completely exposing his hard dick and hanging balls.

“Aww honey ya ain’t g-g-gotta-” Elvis started to protest but could only watch with lust as she sank down on her knees in front of him, enveloping him in her mouth and gently massaging his balls. “Goddamn,” Elvis groaned and licked her arousal off his fingers as Sherry grabbed his butt and pulled him tighter against her, forcing him deeper into her mouth. She tried to keep her throat relaxed as he panted above her, his dick pulsing, shooting spurts of warm cum into her.

“That was some interview, honey. You’re a forward lil’ thing, ain’t ya?”

Sherry blushed at that and tried not to stare as Elvis tucked himself back in and zipped his jumpsuit halfway up, leaving part of his glistening chest exposed. “Not usually,” she admitted.

“Oh?” Elvis looked surprised. He was usually good at telling who the good girls were and who just wanted to say they’d had Elvis Presley. “This was special for today?”

“This was special for you. I mean, I don’t usually go around doing this, but I just really wanted to make you feel good.” Sherry felt silly trying to explain her feelings for a man she technically just met, but Elvis’ pleased grin calmed her.

“Believe it or not, honey, I don’t usually go around doin’ this either.”

“I do believe you,” Sherry responded with a smile of her own.

“Why’s that?” Elvis’ brow furrowed. Usually people acted shocked to hear he wasn’t with a different woman every night.

“The way you were trembling a little bit when I pulled your zipper down. You seemed almost as nervous as I was.”

“Well, what did I tell ya? Stage fright,” Elvis laughed. “I hope I made ya feel good too, baby.”

“You know you did,” Sherry laughed. “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so good, to be honest,” she added with a blush. “What you might not know is that you make me feel good all the time.” Elvis looked at her quizzically, waiting for an explanation. “My life has been, well, very painful at times, and when I hear you sing, it makes me happy. I actually begged my editor for this assignment so I could tell you how much you mean to me. I didn’t necessarily intend to throw myself at you, but you’re kind of irresistible,” she finished with an embarrassed little smile.

“Wow, honey, that’s real sweet of ya ta say.” Elvis blinked before a tear could roll down his cheek. “You don’t know how much it means ta hear ya say all that. Maybe now we’re even with makin’ each other feel good.”

“Elvis, I could touch you and, um, uh, kiss you like that every day and it would never be enough to make us even. You deserve…everything,” Sherry whispered, a blush spreading over her face.

“Hmm,” Elvis pondered. “Every day? Ya think ya’d have the energy for that?”

Sherry giggled and gave him a playful shove. “I’d do anything for you.”

Elvis smiled a sweet crooked grin. “Well, let’s say I need ya ta make me feel good again. How do I go about findin’ ya?”

Sherry grabbed her long-forgotten notebook and scribbled down her name and phone number.

“What’re ya gonna write about me in your article?” Elvis asked as they headed back into the hallway.

“The truth. That watching you perform was the best night of my life. And you’d do anything to please your fans.” Sherry gave a little wink to make sure her innuendo wouldn’t be lost. Elvis laughed and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

As they parted ways, Sherry didn’t know if she’d ever see him like this again, but she did know that this memory would last a lifetime.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone

[aftersamu]

HUSH HUSH PAIRING: suna x gn!reader TAGS: fooling around in secret / almost getting caught

this is a lot different to what i have written before, but this idea came up in my head and i wanted to write it out and see where it goes. and i hope u all enjoy this more matured, exploration, era of my writing <3

suna isn't really friend. he's more of a friend of a friend, a person who shares a similar friend group, a counter part sort of extension from your friend group.

meaning, you see each other at parties, general hangouts, and are on the same group chat. other than that, there hasn't been much interaction between the two of you.

until a month ago.

maybe it was the alcohol, the ambiance of the party, or they way your eyes met from across the room. he was there, behind the makeshift bar at kuroo's house party alone. and you had run out of people to talk to, so you approached him.

the conversation was light, shared a round of shots, and nobody had their eyes on either of you. the talking, light touches on his arm, it all resulted in the two of you walking off together into the bathroom.

it was meant to be a one time thing.

something that was fuelled by the lack of inhibition, and the effects of vodka and tequila running through your bloodstream.

then again, once was clearly not enough.

as now, your roommate, your best friend is out of the house and suna's over like he has been for almost every week since the party. every time you're home alone, he comes over.

you could say it's a poor lack of judgement, or a questionable moment in your life, but god has the past month been fun. the sneaking around behind your friends' backs, the stolen glances, the text messages, the entire package.

you've never felt so alive before. this whole idea of secrecy, something kept between the two of you, as cheesy as it sounds, it's fucking incredible.

pressed against the bedroom wall, legs wrapped around his waist and hands running through brunette hair. there is an urgency. One that is desperate, hungry, lustful, and passionate, as your fingers lace themselves through his hair. his hands at the underside of your thighs holding you up.

"how long will your roommate be gone for?" he murmurs,

"a while, we have time." you pull his mouth to yours, paying little attention to the possibility of anyone returning anytime soon.

your hands trail down his torso, reaching for the hem of his shirt. your touch on his skin sends shivers down his spine, nevertheless, he obliges.

legs dropping to the floor as he pulls the black tee over his head, tossing it across the room before kissing you stronger, desperate, like he's fighting to memorise the feel of your lips together.

god, he's making you crazy, a pile of want, and addiction that sends a person spiralling out of control. his fingers wrap themselves around your necklace, pulling lightly at the thin rusting chain, as a hand is placed on the wall beside you.

your fingers wrapped around the belt loop of his jeans.

it's a routine at this point. the rush, the insatiable feeling of having him so close, the buildup that you chase every time he comes over.

then... a door slams, the jingle of keys work in harmony to the frustrated mumbling echoing off the halls. foot steps approach the bedroom door, a voice calls out your name in a frustrated groan.

alarms ring in your mind as you push the boy off, pinning him against the wall, with a hand over his mouth as you fix your tank top before running a hand through your hair to hide the mess.

you pull open the door, leaning against the frame, a hand still placed on suna's mouth. "what's going on?" you ask, pretending that there isn't a secret hookup right next you, "i thought you had a hair appointment."

trying your best to sound calm, nonchalant, yet sympathetic and caring all at the same time.

"i know, but i called the salon to confirm, and guess what!" they rant, standing out in the hall, one inch away from stepping forward and seeing the hidden body behind the wall.

"what?"

"they told me they couldn't secure my place because i didn't make a deposit!" they exclaim, "first of all, they never told me to make a deposit, nor sent me the bank details."

"that's so fucked!" you say, "how much was the deposit?"

"fifty! fifty fucking dollars, for a stupid deposit to make sure i show up!" they yell, "these hair salons are getting greedy nowadays. and now i'm in a terrible mood!"

"hey, look, i've got a friend that works at a salon downtown." you say, "i'll give 'em a call and see if i can get you an appointment today, will that make you feel better?"

"will you do that?" they sigh of relief, "because if you can that would be amazing! i've got an important work dinner tonight and i want to look good."

"oh, yeah totally, let me go call them right now." you assure, quickly closing the door and leaning against the wood.

suna moves your hand from his lips, "so, are our plans cancelled or what?" he jokes.

[hard-core-super-star]

How about Reader is a stunt driver and loves cars, she's best friends with Griffin and hailee has a huge crush on her. (Hailee Steinfeld x fem reader.)

remind me i'm alive [H.Steinfed]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x stuntdriver!reader

summary: your day off takes a sudden turn when your best friend's sister decides to finally make a move after silently pining after you for far too long.

warnings: none; half an inch of plot; idiots in love; hailee being a flustered mess while R struggles to read between the lines; griffin being tired of watching the mess; R has a corvette because i love subtle references

wordcount: 2k

a/n: full disclosure, i wrote this with bumblebee era hailee in mind so do with that information what you will. it's not super noticeable but just thought you should know. also, i know even less about cars than i do about sports so...an attempt was made and i'll leave it at that. i was originally going to make this angsty and full of plot but i decided against it and just wrote a bunch of fluff. hope you like it!

* * * * * * *

Today was supposed to be a normal day off. 

You weren’t needed on set until next week which meant you had more than enough time to hang out with your best friend and mess around with your endless works in progress.

The chosen project of the day was letting Griffin do a simple tune-up on your precious 1970 Corvette. 

You’re more than capable of doing it on your own but you’re pretty sure he’s in love with your car and you’re not about to deny him the opportunity to be the one he loves.

And there’s also the fact that his sister said she was coming over today. Which makes your behavior today a lot less normal than usual.

You hate to admit it but almost every time you come over to Griffin’s house you end up sitting around and hoping Hailee will decide to show up. You know it’s weird and borderline creepy but despite all the time you spend with her brother, it’s practically impossible for you to spend time with her.

There’s always something that gets in the way. Usually, it’s your schedules, sometimes it’s your inability to talk to her like a normal person due to your badly hidden feelings for her, and every once in a while, it’s Hailee herself. 

There was a time when you thought she hated you since she always seemed to find a way to avoid being around you. Griffin swears it was because you made her too flustered to be able to hang out alone with you. You think he’s insane but he swears it’s true. And maybe it is true, it’s hard to tell though considering how adorably awkward the brunette can be sometimes, regardless of who she’s with. 

It’s one of the things you find most endearing about her. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“So, what do you think?”

You turn to look at Griffin, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Think about what?”

He chuckles. “You didn’t hear a single word I said did you?”

“Sorry, I guess I got lost in my thoughts.”

There’s a subtle smirk on his face that tells you he knows exactly what’s got you so distracted. You’ve never admitted your feelings for his sister to him but he’s not blind and he knows you well enough to recognize the signs. “You need a break. And I know the perfect person to keep you company.”

“Oh, shut up,” you say with an eye roll.

“Hey, you’re the one who can’t focus. Just do us both a favor and go talk to Hailee. I need some time away from you.”

You glare at him while he laughs at the look on your face. You give him a well-earned punch to the arm before walking away. “Asshole.” 

“Right back at you, y/n!”

You let your heart lead the way out of the garage and into Griffin’s house where you find Hailee in the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen island. She doesn’t notice you walk in since all her focus is on her phone and you can’t help but take advantage of the moment to give her a small scare as payback for all the times she sneaks up behind you and tries to tackle you.

“What are you looking at?”

“Jesus!” She exclaims with a startled jump, her phone dropping out of her hands and sliding across the kitchen island. “Warn a person, you jerk!”

You want to apologize, you really do, but it’s impossible for you to hold back your laugh considering the downright offended look that covers her face. Her eyes narrow while your laughter shakes your whole body. 

She’s clearly not impressed by your reaction but you swear you can see the corners of her mouth quirk up a little. “Alright, that’s it, I’m taking your car for a drive.”

You assume she’s kidding although that slight twinkle in her eyes should be more than enough proof that she’s not bluffing. Still, like an idiot, you make no move to argue against her words…until she stands up and starts running toward the garage.

You chase after her without a second thought. “Hailee, wait!”

“Oh, now you want to talk?” She teases. “It’s a bit too late, y/l/n!”

You almost burst out laughing again but you force yourself to keep it together and focus on running after her. Seriously, since when is the garage so far away?

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on my baby, Steinfeld!”

The two of you make it into the garage where your beautiful Corvette awaits with Griffin nowhere to be found. And of course, your best friend decided to leave the keys in the ignition because he’s a genius.

“You need better hobbies,” she says matter-of-factly as she reaches the front door of your car.

Thankfully, she gets distracted by her own comment long enough for you to erase the remaining space between your bodies. You come up behind her and wrap your arms around her waist in a tight embrace.

There’s a second where you forget what it is that you’re doing, too overwhelmed by the feeling of Hailee’s warm body pressed against yours to remember all the reasons that keep you from telling her the truth about the depth of your affection for her. It’s like you get a glimpse into what your life would be like if you weren’t such a coward. 

And if your feelings were mutual. Which feels more impossible than the plot of all the Transformers movies combined.

The moment passes as quickly as it came and suddenly, you’re lifting the brunette off the ground while she yells increasingly ridiculous obscenities at you. You’re pretty sure she declares you a ‘car fucker’ at some point but her words come out too fast and jumbled for you to understand her. 

You’re not sure where you’re going with her but you know you don’t want her anywhere near your precious car right now. You’re mainly just being dramatic (although she is a notoriously bad driver) but it’s also been way too long since you’ve seen her so carefree and you want to do everything in your power to keep that smile on her face.

Even if it means carrying her around her brother’s house like a doofus while you try your hardest not to accidentally drop her.

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point,” she says, unsuccessfully holding back a laugh. “Put me down, y/n.”

“Fine, stop your whining.”

You walk over to the couch and drop her down onto it. You’re too focused on making sure she doesn’t fall to the ground to notice her reach her arm out to grab you. Her hand grips your forearm tightly and she pulls you down with her. 

You let out a small groan as you land on the couch…or, more accurately, as you land on top of the adorable brunette.

Your face heats up the instant you realize the position you’re in. Despite your nervous embarrassment, you make no attempt to move away. It’s mainly because you don’t want to but the arm wrapped around your waist also has something to do with your hesitancy to get up.

You place your hand next to her head and lift yourself up a little so you can look down at her. You raise an eyebrow in a silent question that she completely ignores. 

“Hi,” she whispers.

You’re so close that you swear you feel the warmth of her breath hit your lips. 

“Hi,” you reply, doing your best to keep your gaze on her eyes. “Was there a point to this or is this your version of a good hobby?”

The ghost of a smile crosses her face when you throw her words back at her. “That depends.” 

“On what?”

“On what happens if I…” She trails off as she leans forward a little, your breath catching in your throat at the sight. “Do this.”

The space between your lips disappears the next second leaving you breathless in a way you’ve never experienced before. 

The kiss is slow and exploratory, almost as if you’re both afraid of scaring the other with all the unspoken desires you’re harboring inside of yourselves. It's everything you've ever wanted but have never had the courage to ask for.

You're about to let your hands join in on the exploration when you hear Griffin’s voice coming from down the hall. “y/n? Hailee? Where'd you guys run off to?”

You instantly pull away from her and come crashing back down to reality. A reality that feels a lot like the worn-out carpet that covers the floor of your best friend’s living room. Clearly, you had overshot your movements when you pulled away from Hailee’s lips and now you look more like an idiot than you originally planned.

She doesn't seem to mind if her laughter is anything to go by. 

“I…do I even wanna ask?” 

“Nope,” you reply to Griffin. “Are you done with my car?”

“Yeah, everything’s good. You might want to change your tires soon though. Or just stop speeding.”

“I do not speed!” You argue back even though you both know you're lying. It's a bad habit you've always had that's only gotten worse since you started working as a stunt driver. You know your best friend has the same problem though so you don't feel too ashamed about it.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he says before he throws your keys at you. 

You catch them and quickly rise to your feet. Speaking of bad habits… “Well, this was fun, I’m gonna go.”

“Already?” Griffin questions you. “I thought you had the day off?”

“I do and I love you but I need some time away from you.” 

He rolls his eyes in response, an action that reminds you way too much of the brunette you’re currently trying to run away from. “Okay, I had that coming. We still on for lunch tomorrow?”

“Only if you’re paying,” you reply with a grin as you start to make your way toward the garage once again.

You know you probably look an asshole for walking away without a glance toward Hailee but it’s an instinctual response that you can’t quite bring yourself to get in the way of. You’re not sure what it is that makes you react like this. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve definitely fallen in love with your best friend’s sister and there’s no way you’re going to be able to hide it any longer. 

Or maybe you just need a few minutes to really come to terms with the fact that Hailee kissed you.

She looked at you with the softest look imaginable on her face and kissed you. 

And now you’re running away.

You’re a second away from turning around and walking back inside when you hear footsteps approaching. “Where are you gonna go?”

You smile despite yourself the second you hear her voice. The two of you walk side by side until you reach your car. “I don't know. I’ll probably drive to the beach or something. I need some fresh air.”

“I, uh, I could go with you,” she offers, her cheeks tinted the softest shade of pink. “We just…we never get the chance to hang out and I, um, I think we should talk.”

You're sure you've never heard the brunette so nervous before and the mere sight is more than enough to get your heart racing.

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to focus long enough for that?” You ask, unable to stop yourself from teasing her a little when you catch her eyes drifting down to your lips.

She lets out a warm chuckle. “I make no promises.”

You push away your own nervousness and hesitation, choosing instead to dive into this newfound connection with her. You don't say anything in response but you open the passenger door for her in a silent invitation.

She accepts with a breathtaking smile. Her lips brush against your cheek before she climbs into your car. You stare at her with a dumbfounded look on your face for a few seconds, unable to understand how someone so perfect even exists.

You hate to admit it but Griffin was right. Somehow, against all odds, Hailee wants you and you'd be a fool to let her go.

[callmewrinkles3]

Deuxmoi, October 2018 - March 2023

October 2018

Spotted: This curly haired driver was trying to be discreet in Austin but failed miserably. It might have worked if he didn’t have a bright pink cowboy hat on. I hope the brunette who gave it to him knows the cowboy hat rule!

April 2019 

Spotted: Could have sworn I saw Daniel Ricciardo at Coachella weekend two with a short brunette. When I looked again I wasn’t sure, but they were making out and happy.

August 2019

Spotted: The breakout Netflix driver on a family Disney trip. His “friend” according to the show had his nephew on her hip, and they all had matching mouse ears. He couldn’t stop putting an arm around her shoulder or having his hand at her back. Too cute.

Spotted: First time submission and it’s a Big One. In a dive bar in Vegas and Daniel Ricciardo walked in with his girlfriend/assistant/whatever she is but she’s cute. Took a booth at the back and they ordered beers and shots, flirting constantly. Once the dancing started they were on the floor and his hands were ALL OVER HER. Got a sneaky photo too.

April 2020

Spotted: Was at an Optus event before the now cancelled Australian Grand Prix (sadness) and Daniel Ricciardo was guest of honour. The brunette he’s always photographed with was there too, they are NOT just friends. His hand was around her waist and he was making sure her drink was always full. Plus I spotted her talking with some of the bigwigs from Optus, Daniel was watching her with heart eyes all the time.

August 2020

Name: Francophone 

Email: neverorange@gmail.com 

Subject: Breaking the rules? 

Message: Ever since this paddock playboy joined his latest team he’s had a pass available for his alleged best friend. Thanks to the pandemic rules it’s staff only, and she’s been upgraded to assistant. Seems like a way to get his fuckbuddy to work with him. 

June 2021

Name: Mediterranean Marvel

Email: yachtgirls@gmail.com

Subject: Unexpected attendee

Message: Walking past the marina in Monaco and spotted Charles LeClerc and Daniel Ricciardo on Charles’ yacht. Charles girlfriend was there, Ricciardo had his arm around a tattooed brunette in a skimpy bikini. Didn’t get a good look at her, but I don’t think it was the girl he’s seen with at races! New girlfriend?

December 2021

Name: Desert Diva

Email: loungesonly@fakeemail.com

Subject: Heartbreak

Message: In the lounge in Dubai and spotted Daniel Ricciardo saying goodbye to his girlfriend while they were both crying. His friends gave her hugs too, and everyone looked miserable. She managed to hold it together mostly until he left, but we were on the same plane and she was crying most of the flight. His insta looks like he’s back in Australia and quarantining, guess the wedding rumours aren’t true. She was so sweet to the staff, apologising for being a mess. That rumour that she’s a cheater is a lie, those two are too cute.

June 2022

Spotted: Walking around Perth Zoo for the weekend and who do I see but hometown hero Daniel Ricciardo. Didn’t take photos cause he was there with family, it looked like his girlfriend and his niece and nephew. I see why his girlfriend’s been MIA recently, she looked pretty ill. They were adorable though, his niece kept holding her hand and asking to be carried whenever we walked past them. Glad to see them together and happy, hopefully his performance improves.

October 2022

Spotted: I just saw Daniel Ricciardo and his girlfriend in the Target in Wooten, Austin. Bought groceries and sheets? No idea.

March 2023

Name: It’s fucking orange

Email: givesyouwings@email.com

Subject: Disgustingly cute

Message: Daniel Ricciardo and Scotty James’ fiancées were both at Eras Tour night one in Vegas. Wearing costumes and singing/yelling along. The two of them had all the words to All Too Well, and I think Em was FaceTiming Daniel during Our Song.

[cloudninetonine]

Y/n was convinced Lady Luck had it out for her and was conspiring with The Fates, how else could she have ended up in her current situation? She and The Chain had been exploring some dilapidated dungeon in some unknown era, and of course they got jumped by some Poes and Stalfos… and then her dumb arse managed to get herself separated from the rest of the group in the confusion in an attempt to stay out of the crossfire. She tried to retrace her steps while trying to ignore the unnerving eyes carved into the walls… riiight until she spotted a Stalfos patrolling a corridor she was about to walk down… She quickly ducked into an adjacent (and thankfully monster-free) room and prayed it hadn’t seen her. Nervous eyes scanned the room, hoping to see something she could use in case of a fight, and they landed on a sword in the far corner of the mid-sized room. ‘Oh, Four would have a fit if he saw this thing.’ Was her first thought. It looked old and beat-up, with rust spots running up and down the dull, chipped blade. It kind of reminded her of some of Wild’s swords with the way it looked like it’d been dragged through hell and back. ‘A garbage sword is better than no sword I guess…’ The brunette thought with a tired sigh. As she got closer though, something about it felt… familiar… And as her hand gripped the hilt, she realized all too late why as a blinding glow forced her eyes shut and an indescribable pain shot through her entire body, like sharp claws were trying to ripe her apart. Once the pain abated and she could open her eyes again, she saw the most surreal sight imaginable; three near identical clones of herself scattered about the room, with the only difference being their eyes. The one with bright golden eyes was pacing around the room muttering to herself and occasionally stopping to tap her foot, another copy with soft lilac eyes was kneeling on the ground trying to calm down a pale silvery grey-eyed doubleganger who looked like she was hyperventilating. And then there was herself, standing there trying to comprehend what had just happened. She looked down at the blade as the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place and felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. Her reflection was a bit hazy duo to the polish dulling over however many years it had been sitting here, but it was still shiny enough that she could see what color her own eyes were; a warm, autumnal orange, which they most certainly were not prier to this. As she stood there mulling over what to do (and how to explain this to The Chain), she heard what sounded like one of the guys. Gold stopped trying to wear a hole in the floor and also looked at the door just as Time and Four poked their heads in the room. The Smith’s eyes widened and she could see them swirl with different colors, no doubt the colors were trying to figure out what to do. The old man also looked surprised before letting out an exasperated sigh and burying his face in his hand.

======================

Ended it there since I couldn’t figure out what else to write. Plus it’s already REALLY long. Any longer and it could be its own one-shot. Hope ya like it~ 

----------

AAAAAAAA PIXIE I FUCKING LOVED THIS IT WAS FUCKING AMAZING!

TIME IS DEF TIRED, BRO NEEDS A NAP AND ESPECIALLY NOW CAUSE HE’S GOT TO DEAL WITH FOUR PLAYERS, BROS NOT IMPRESSED

[firstprince-ao3feed]

Lover Boy (What're You Doing Tonight?)

by SlutForS8n “I just,” He sighed, the sound wet and pained in Alex’s ears as Henry spoke, “I want to be yours.” “You are mine, Henry,” Alex whispered, digging his fingers into the threadbare sweater and pulling him impossibly closer. “I want to be like everyone else. I want to be able to tell people I’m in love,” He muttered, pressing his eyes into the shoulder of Alex’s work shirt and dampening the fabric with tears, “I want the world to know.” “Maybe one day,” The brunette replied sadly but Henry met the words with a scoff. “Do not give me false hope. I would rather be hopeless and sad than a delusional fool.” OR Alex Claremont-Diaz and Henry Fox are in love in the 1930's Words: 3759, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Nora Holleran, Percy "Pez" Okonjo, June Claremont-Diaz, Beatrice Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - 1930s, that sort of era, but I'm also not from the 1930's so, mostly just guessing, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Period-Typical Homophobia, Marriage Proposal, Weddings, Unofficial Weddings, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Because Would It Be A Nate SlutForS8n Fic Without Some Religious Symbolism and Imagery?, Implied Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Good Sibling June Claremont-Diaz, Reading, Romance, I Actually Quite Like This One, Established Relationship, Established Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, Alex Claremont-Diaz Loves Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Needs a Hug, Gay Disaster Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz via https://ift.tt/1fXqV8x

[tohjwcc]

Who am I? INTRODUCTION

Alright, so I've been here for like..half a year now? I actually don't entirely know, but ish 6 months. But I feel like I want to introduce myself. Idk why.

- So. Hi. I'm tohjwcc.. I honestly wanna change it, but I'm scared people won't recognize me if I do haha. So, I guess I'm stuck with it for a lil while longer. Guess I'm just a "normal" (heck I'm not, I'm weird as f-) 15 yr old girl...ehm, well, going to highschool after summer. Yasammy/cc/ct nerd, basically.

- My personality is complicated. For any camp cretaceous fan, I can easily describe myself as a softer version of Yaz. I have a strong Yaz side, but another big piece of my personality is just quirky and weird and funny (people say I'm funny.. so I hope they're telling the truth lol). But also, I've been told... SO. MANY. TIMES.... That I'm too nice for my own good. I'm kind and nice to everyone. I can't be mean to anyone. At least not on purpose. That is one thing that separates me and Yaz from being completely identical (personalitywise) (which again isn't entirely true, my quirky and weird side is bigger than my serious/Yaz side. I'm basically the yasammy icon. That quirky side could be referred to as Sammy lol.) But ofc there are other small stuff that also separates us two a little but yeah. (Tbh idk... I haven't really figured myself out yet. Idk what I am like, I just wanna be like Yaz cuz I love her so deeply and I can really relate to her in so many different ways. Idk, maybe I'm just not like her at all. Maybe I just wanna be like her...? Ugh, I don't know, I don't know myself. Dang it. My dream is to be cool. Like my girl Yaz. Okay, enough rambling).

- English is sadly not my first/native language, so any bad grammar or wrong wording could appear, so I apologize for that. I also like to make up new words, so if there's a word you've never heard before, it's probably one of my new creations. Confusion can appear, you've been warned.

- On this blog.. is it a blog? I don't even know. Anyways, on this account thingy I mostly post about camp cretaceous/chaos theory. That is where my main interest is. That leads us to my next.. ugh, me and words. I don't even know what it's called I'm my language. Paragraph, maybe? Let's go with that. That leads us to my next paragraph.

- Favorite shows. I've got a LOT, but the ones that might appear on this account are probably just Jwct/jwcc and the owl house. There's a chance like stranger things and heartstopper could be joining us too. I know nothing. I could be posting/reblogging random crap as well, so nothing is for sure.

- I started watching camp cretaceous when season 3 had been released. I was in my "Jurassic world era", so I had been watching all the Jurassic world movies (ish), so I guess I just wanted to rewatch some of them again, and then I saw it. "Jurassic world camp cretaceous". I was like "OoO". I began to watch it, and fell in love with it RIGHT AWAY. Also, a funny fun fact, I started watching it when I was 12. And now I'm 15. This means I was as old as the youngest character when I started watching it, and I am NOW as old as the OLDEST characters are in the show. This show has been with me through all my teenage years so far. I'm so greatful for this show and these campers. They helped me through so much, and I could never thank them enough.

-The jwcc character i can relate most to is Yaz. 10000%. Like I said before, she is so me. My friend says I'm a Yaz, and she once said I even looked like Yaz, which is cool, but idk how cuz I'm not a brunette haha. But these are the bestest compliments I've ever gotten.

Shoutout to everyone who even bothers to read this lmao. I might add stuff to this later, who knows.

Have a great day ^^

[howlinchickhowl]

It's day four and we're posting up early today because a gal's gotta work tonight. As usual thank you @gallavichthings for this fun list of prompts and for putting this all together.

To Sir, With Love four - teachers

The teacher’s lounge is like a time capsule, set in resin in the late ‘70s and never changed a day since. There’s something kind of comforting about it.

The whole neighborhood has changed so much the last few years, housing developers and rich lesbians and ‘young professionals’ transforming the bleak streets of his youth into lush green pastures and driving up the price of every single fucking thing. The price of beer at the corner store by his apartment is fucking insane, and if he wants to eat a vegetable every once in a while he practically has to take out a loan.

The teacher’s lounge though, that can always be relied on to look and feel and smell exactly the same as the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. Piles of papers stacked high on every surface, a collection of typewriters and ash-trays in the corner by the microwave, remnants of a bygone era, the disposal of which seems to be nobody’s job. The faded sparkles in the stained linoleum that try valiantly to glimmer, the stale but sustaining aroma of years of coffee brews and spills and stains. Day in, day out, exactly the same.

Not today.

Today there’s a new smell. Not wholly new, but different. The rich aroma hits him in the face right as he opens the door and he stops short.

“The fuck’s that smell?” He asks the room, already quietly bustling with the regular crowd of overtired public school teachers he calls co-workers.

“Good morning Mickey”

Ian Gallagher, fresh-faced and too fucking smiley for this ungodly hour of the morning greets him from over by the coffee station, clutching his favorite mug in both hands like he’s a fucking teenage girl. He brought the mug from home, it’s got pictures of a bunch of kids on it, his family, he told Mickey once at the start of the year. Weird kinda family, two redheads, two brunettes, some guy who looks like a fuckin’ rat and a little black kid, probably about twenty years between all of them Mickey’d guess. He’s never asked.

Gallagher’s a new hire, fresh out of qualification at the start of the year and clearly overjoyed to be here, shaping young minds or whatever. Mickey knows he’s got at most a whole school year of feeling that way before the fucking grind of it starts to get to him. Too many kids and not enough money and no resources and a senior staff so apathetic that there’s no hope of anything ever getting better.

Normally he finds the fresh meat irritating, they’re too friendly, too enthusiastic, he gives them a wide berth and waits for them to learn, or to burn out.

Something about Gallagher though, sweet-natured and keen but not naïve or over the top, he’s kind of hoping that this one will survive.

Helps that he’s easy on the eyes. Bright red hair, pale, freckled skin, calm green eyes and the body of a fuckin’ cross-fit dad. Mickey doesn’t hate to look at him, wouldn’t hate being tossed around by him neither if it came to that but he doesn’t have a good read on the guy yet. They’re friendly, kind of. As friendly as Mickey ever is with a colleague. Maybe a little more. He likes talking to the guy. Likes looking at him.

“Gallagher.” He replies by way of a hello. His question about the smell still hasn’t been answered. “Why does it smell weird in here?”

Gallagher smiles, a sweet little thing that speaks of a giddy kind of smugness.

“I changed the coffee. Do you want some?”

It’s not that Mickey was attached to the old stuff, it was basically watered-down tar at it’s very best, but it was at least familiar. The devil he knew. And there’s no telling what kind of hair-brained scheme Gallagher might have replaced it with.

“It’s not fuckin’ decaf is it?”

That gets him a warm little chuckle and a friendly eye-roll.

“No, Mickey I would never do that to you. It’s just different. The stuff we had ran out and there was some disagreement over whose turn it was to go and buy it and it was fucking awful anyway and I saw an opportunity. I got us a subscription.”

“A subscription?”

“Yeah! The finest blends, delivered straight to our door. And all the proceeds go towards supporting women’s healthcare in Sierra Leone. Isn’t that cool?”

Is it cool? Mickey’s unclear exactly on why they should give a shit about helping people in Africe when there’s plenty of healthcare problems here at home, but if the coffee’s good he’s not exactly gonna kick up a fuss.

“Is it good?”

“What does your nose tell you?” Gallagher asks him with a tap to the nose, and Mickey rolls his eyes. The guy’s hot but he’s a fucking cheeseball.

It does smell pretty fucking good. It tastes pretty great as well, he has to admit when Ian passes him a cup, Mickey’s own favorite, not that he’d ever tell anyone he has a favorite. It sends a funny kind of warmth through him to think that Gallagher might just have noticed.

“It’s decent.” He admits, and Gallagher’s mouth opens to respond but there’s a knock on the door, and Mickey, being the closest faculty member to it, reluctantly turns to swing it open.

It’s a kid. Which makes sense, adults don’t normally knock, but it’s early still for kids to be in the building, even with extra-curriculars. He takes in the girl, he doesn’t know her. She’s skinny, reminds him of Mandy in her ripped black jeans and vintage band tee, kind of funny that kids are still dressing like that. She’s staring at him apprehensively, one hand still raised where she had been knocking.

“What?”

She looks taken aback by his brash question, a lot of the teachers are kinda soft with the kids, treat ‘em like babies. Not Mickey.

“Um. Is—Is Mr Gallagher here?”

“No.” He barks, and swings the door closed.

“Mickey!”

Gallagher’s face is incredulous, half a foot from his own where he had clearly been on his way to meet the student when Mickey had closed the door.

“What?” Mickey feigns innocence, and it gets him a laugh.

“I’m right here!”

“She doesn’t know that. It’s too early for kids, you ain’t even really workin’ yet.”

That much he’s right about, everyone gets in early but no one’s supposed to be working ‘til seven, and Gallagher would do well to learn a thing or two about boundaries. He’s got to learn to separate himself from the kids, take the time for himself. He doesn’t seem ready to hear that though, rolling his eyes, even though he’s still smiling.

“It might’ve been important. Who was it?”

Mickey shrugs, takes a gulp of his actually really fucking good coffee.

“I don’t know. Girl. Dark hair. Didn’t give a name.”

“You didn’t ask.” Gallagher fixes him with some attempt at a reprimanding look that Mickey has to duck his face into his mug to hide his response to.

“Eh I’m not your messaging service, alright.” He says once he’s got his grin under control.

“No you’re a fucking menace. Get out of the way, I’m gonna go find her.” Gallagher brushes past him, almost a full body check, really, that Mickey is certain wasn’t necessary. He grins into his coffee and goes to sit down, content to feel the ghost of Gallagher’s body up against his for the rest of the morning.

(btw the coffee subscription is a real thing run by the brothers Green, it's called Awesome Coffee Club and proceeds are donated to Partners In Health in Sierra Leone who are their long time charity partners.)

[milfhandholder]

Random Grell thingz I've accumulated in my head bcs I'm delusional but without context bcs I am going to write a legit novel abt this woman one day

Idc what anyone says, I am an avid believer of the fact that Grell has always been considered beautiful by her peers even in her human life

LIKE SHE'S THE MOST SOUGHT AFTER SUITOR OF HER SEASON, SHE WAS AN IT GIRL BEFORE THEY KNEW WHAT AN IT GIRL IS

She's so beautiful that the Victorians could've started kpop PC first bcs of her and trade them like actual kpoppers

Grell always knew about her being queer (minus actual label bcs Victorian era duh) but not about her gender

"Wait so you people don't fantasize about having boobs? Not at all? No?"

It was maybe 6 years into her reaper life when she finally got the memo that "hey girlie, you're actually a girl"

Her crisis went a bit like this: straight man -> gay man?? -> 'oh no I like girls too' bi man -> died LMAO -> 'I hate everyone and I hate my gender' questioning -> 'maybe I have no gender at all. I like girls though' (she was exclusive to girls only so I guess??lesbian?? Who cheered) -> transwoman questioning -> !! transwoman bi !!

Was in a 'lavender marriage' with a closeted lesbian for maybe 2 - 3 years before her suicide. Grell sort of fell in love with her but understandably never confessed. Fast forward to present time AND GRELL IS HITTING THE FLOOR, SCREAMING, CRYING

She had a lot of rage as a young reaper because she never really got over 'my parents suck' mindset that stood by her as she died

HATED WILLIAM. As much as I love the OVA, I will stand by my words that it would’ve been so much more interesting if Grell buried / was embarassed about her crush and acted like a dick towards him BECAUSE WHY, OF ALL THE MEN IN DISPATCH, DID IT HAVE TO BE WILLIAM T SPEARS

Mellowed out eventually and cool character development happened

Has more experience with and confidence in dating girls, she's very anxious (and perhaps frightful) about men reciprocating her advances

Being made "an experience" does that to you

Fun fact: she's the first and only woman William ever had a crush on. Good taste dude

She was projecting her ex wife A LOT onto Madam but it's ok bcs it was vice versa you see, Madam projected too BUT THEN THESE BITCHES TALKED IT OUT and everything is all ok and cool and OH GOD GRELL NOOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭

Speaks German and French, is the go to translator for German Dispatch businesses until Ludger (and eventually Sascha joined in as a bonus and a translator) was forced to sharpen his English

Now for the E discourse.... someone made a typo one day and she went with it

Grell: You see, when you go to France, they make you get a name in French. That's why I can go by Grell Sutcliff or Grelle Sutcliffe

Ron, an idiot who has never been anywhere except his hometown: oh shit fr??

Eric's her first ACTUAL reaper friend which is sad ngl LMAOOO

Firm believer that the reapers have mentorships for gifted students that started in Ron's year and that Grell was her mentor READ MY RON FIC, IM OBSESSED WITH THEM

Mentoring Ron (aka a few years before Jack the Ripper) was the moment where she was the healthiest, mentally

Then she divorced Madam, had a falling out with William and oops she regressed el em ao. Don't tell any of her friends though, they'd start annoying her to get better

People older and the same age as her are wildly terrified of her. This is in contrast to (most) juniors who are so in love with the idea of her

Harbors a lot of guilt, grief, rage, anger, jealousy, insecurity, narcissism, etc. She's just a good actress

Her butler persona was her mocking three people at once: her father's (brunette) appearance, her mother's wish for Grell to be more obedient, and Grell's old self that let people walk all over her for the sake of maintaining her family name

Her family is rich rich though she can't remember for what. She doesn't really care eitherway so

Can be very insensitive!! It doesn't help that she's friends with people who'd give the same energy back (Eric and Othello) or people who just don't care enough (William)

She learned how to hold her tongue when she realized Ron was genuinely upset with her rude comments. Ironically, Ron learned how to have thicker skin because of said comments

Likes dogs, sorry Sebastian

Good at fencing! Not much else in other sports!!

She hates sports sm, they make her sweat and they are tedious and they're exhausting and THEY'RE BORING

The only ranged weapon she'd try out is a gun.

She's no wuss

Yeah that's all that I can think of lmao

[redactedwriting]

so i’ve liked someone at my college for awhile now and omg. i had no clue why i liked him except for he was really nice but i had no clue what about him was so attractive. I JUST REALIZED. HES LIKE A BRUNETTE TTTYG PATRICK. HIS NOSE, HIS EYES, HIS HAIR (except the color.), HIS LIPS. OMFG (he has a girlfriend of three years and is aware i like him romantically and so does his girlfriend but we don’t talk about that.) BUT GUESS WHAT. HE SAID HE WANTS TO BREAK UP WITH HER! (i dont know if he likes men but he definitely seems gay but i won’t make assumptions) BUT GOD. HES LITERALLY BRUNETTE TTTYG PATRICK????????????? anyways i need tttyg patrick to cum in my mouth and apologize (he doesn’t need to)

hamilton anon having a crisis

HELP THW ENDING OF THIS IS SO FUNNY. REAL AS FUCK when i was 15 i had a crush on a guy in my history class and i didn’t realize why but then it hit me that he looked like so wrong it’s right alex gaskarth and i was in the peak of my all time low era

tttyg patrick would absolutely apologize for coming in your mouth even if you asked him to. he’d be trying so hard not to fuck your mouth bc he’s polite but he is squirming and fucking you a Little bc he can’t help it. and you’d focus on the head of his dick and jerk off the base so you could breathe some without taking your mouth off, but that’s what makes him come <3 you kinda expected that, so it isn’t a shock, but he still apologizes!!

whining “sorry, ‘m sorry, didn’t mean to…” literally as he’s coming down. god

[markdelonge]

note: my favorite thing to do on this account is stop writing for a hella long time then show up outta nowhere with a shitty story with a shitty plot

second note: i started this in october 2022...... its april

...

title: "nails"

request?: no

pairing: tom delonge (no specific era) x reader (no specific gender mentioned)

contains: fluff, cussing, terrible horrible no good very bad writing.

blink-182 masterlist

...

"okay, tom, which color?" you asked your boyfriend as you dropped all the nail polishes you owned on the bed in front of him.

tom had finally agreed to let you paint his nails. it wasn't hard to get him to agree, he's had his nails done multiple times before, but he had been so busy with recording the newest blink album, he never had the time to actually sit down and let you do it.

he looked at the colors for a while before making a choice

"this one" he picked up the darkest color of them all, which was black, and handed it to you which caused you to playfully roll your eyes

"tom, you always wear black, how about we switch it up for once" you suggested, taking the nail polish out of his hand.

"why would black be an option if you were just gonna say 'no'?" he fake pouted at you to try and 'guilt trip' you.

you threw the black nail polish behind your back, not paying any attention to the loud thud it made when it hit the wall.

"pick a color, baby" you repeated what you said moments before while gesturing to the nail poshes in front of the both of you.

tom rolled his eyes before looking back down at the variety of colors, this time, making up his mind had taken longer than the last, given the fact he didn't have any other color than black on his mind.

"how 'bout this one?" he asked as he picked up the lightest color which was white.

"good choice" you smiled at him while taking the polish out of his hand and shaking it.

"give me your hand" you said while grabbing his right hand and placing it on your knee.

you opened the polish and started gently painting his thumb while the toxic smell of nail polish filled the air.

tom stared at you, taking in all your facial features as you continued painting his nails. you could see him staring in your peripheral vision, but you decided not to say anything and focused on what you were doing, cleaning up any mess-ups with the tip of your nail.

"you're real pretty, you know that?" tom asked completely out of the blue, causing you to blush.

you shurgged before answering "you say that a lot"

"'cause it's true"

you turned your attention to the brunette in front of you before leaning in to place a soft kiss to his lips.

"you're really pretty, too" you smiled at him

tom playfully rolled his eyes.

"whatever" he scoffed which made you giggle.

you continued painting his nails as comfortable silence filled the room, now working on his left hand. it wasnt long until you were done.

"alright, tom, that will be $15.99" you joked as you closed the nail polish and tossed it to the side. tom looked at you with a shocked look on his face.

"i knew you only wanted me for my money" he joked back before looking at what you did to his nails.

"wow, you're smarter than i thought" you said which caused tom to look back at you with a slight smile on his face.

"i dont have any money on me"

"well, i guess you're gonna have to make it up to me" you stated as you leaned to place another kiss on your boyfriend's lips. it wasn't long until he grabbed your waist, pushed you on your back and deepened the kiss.

you hummed into the kiss and pushed his chest, causing him to break this kiss

"tom, stop you're gonna fuck up your nails. i just did them" you complained. tom rolled his eyes before getting up from being on top of you.

"you're so fuckin' annoying" he laughed before placing one last kiss on your lips.