#say thank you to barbie for bringing inspiration

[ohmyblues]

Hello, I'm back with my BS <3

This is what happened in the Citadel DLC right?

...or Illium.

Yes I know I'm several weeks late hush

[cameronspecial]

Let Us Cheer You Up, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Y/N is feeling a little down because of her period and the boys can only think of one way to cheer her up.

A/N: This is inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Sometimes her period has Y/N feeling a little more emotional than normal. She knows it is a cliche, but why should she feel ashamed by the overrunning of her hormones? The poor frat brothers of Alpha Epsilon Pi don’t exactly know what to do with the new crying Y/N that is always around the house. They truly like having her around. The house is cleaner because Rafe picks up after them so she doesn’t get grossed out. They actually have real food to eat because Y/N doesn’t love eating takeout all the time and Rafe wants to provide her with more nutritious meals. And she always gives the best life advice. So it’s safe to say that they are all upset at the habitually of her teary eyes. Rafe was surprised when the boys came to her with an idea on what may make her feel better and he was quick to jump in on the idea. They spent the afternoon practicing while she was away at class.

Rafe hears Y/N return and she plops down on the couch immediately to watch TV. She turns it on to see it is playing the dog commercial that always brings her to tears. He finds her with globs of water pooling at the corner of her eyes and takes her into his hold. “Come on, let us cheer you up, Angel,” he whispers into her ear. She lets him lead her into the sitting room across from the living room to find the boys all standing with their backs to her. “Dance the Night Away” by Dua Lipa starts playing and Rafe is quick to join them in the lineup. As the music plays on, the boys start dancing the dance from Barbie. Y/N’s sobs can’t help but turn into giggles at the recreation in front of her.

Rafe is obviously trying to lead the group through the group, except it is very clear that none of them has any dancing skills or the ability to keep a beat. Topper is ahead of everyone else. Kelce is always looking at everyone else to try to figure out what he is supposed to be doing. And Dylan is just doing the cha-cha slide. Nonetheless, she loves that they are doing this to make her feel better and she feels an immense love for them. Sure, some of the rumours about these boys are true, but this shows that they can care about a female and try to change for her. She believes that they can all become a gentleman in the future and this is proof. The music comes to an end and she claps with glassy eyes, which Rafe notices. He frowns, thinking their plan didn’t work and rushes to her side. “Oh, no. We just made you cry more, Angel. I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, pulling her into a hug. She shakes her head against his chest., “I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m crying because I’m happy. This is so amazing guys. Thank you. I love you all.” The boys all shout back their love for her and squeeze her into a group hug. This leaves Rafe to tighten his hold against her to protect her from the chaos of his brothers. His mouth finds the shell of her ear, “But you love me the most, right?” She giggles and looks up at him. “Yes, I love you the most.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover

[zombflesh]

Thanks @spookiest-of-poops and Stardew Valley for the inspiration.

Jason raising chickens. He got a few from an illegal animal testing lab and if Damien can keep a cow then he can keep chickens. Jason takes you into his backyard to meet his chickens and it's like

"This is pipe bomb"

"This is AK-47"

"This is fuck you Batman"

Why did he name a chicken after weapons? Because it's funny. Why did he name a chicken fuck you Batman? Because it's funny plus whenever the chicken clucks it sounds like it's saying fuck you.

Jason brings his chickens into the house for movie nights. The chicken have favorite movies.

Pipe bomb's favorite movie is the first Princess Diaries movie

AK-47's favorite is the SpongeBob movie

Fuck you Batman is a chicken of taste so his favorite movie is Barbie Mariposa and Her Butterfly Fairy Friends

[mvltisstuff]

so sorry to bother you! how’s summer going so far?

could i request a buck x reader inspired by the song “what was i made for?”, like in particular the lines “im sad again, don’t tell my boyfriend, its not what he’s made for”. i’m struggling with some stuff and this song bring me comfort, i thought that maybe you could combine the two things that make my day less heavy.

if not its completely fine! thank you anyway🫶🏻

what was i made for - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @housewifebuck <3

a/n: my summers been going well, thank you for asking! i hope your summer is going beautifully, and i hope august brings you the best! the barbie movie actually touched my heart so bad… i hate you greta gerwig (i love you thank you for barbie and little women pls never stop making movies) i kind of made this as my interpretation of the song, but i hope you feel connected to this as well <3 i’m not too sure how i feel about this yet, but i wanted to get something out for you.

bucks filled with glory every day. he walks into a room with a bright smile on his face, making everyone feel safe and loved. y/n loves his lovely grin, savoring every minute she can get with him. the moment she met him on shift, she knew that he was someone incredible.

she works at another station near the 118, and she also lives with buck in his apartment. missing him everyday, she comes home into his arms and everything goes away. he seems so calm, and she doesn’t understand how he does it. all he’s been through, and all he sees on the daily. it’s starting to feel like she could crumble up at work, and it’s formed a new branch of displeasure in her life.

when y/n got her new placement in california, she thought the station would be more of a warm welcome. when she walked in, the masculine energy was almost overwhelming. she didn’t want to get her hopes up, maybe it won’t be that bad after all.

the small comments were what did it. their humbling chuckles afterwards were the cherry on top. they weren’t outright degrading her for her gender, but the hints of misogyny peeked their way through.

it made every single day hell, her not getting to work to her fullest and being held down by the other firemen. she fought to get into the academy, and she worked her ass off every day. she’s as good, if not better, as everyone here, but they’re too blind with ignorance to see it. the worst part is that they seem like genuine people to everyone else. y/n felt like she had to fight to get a grain of respect, but the rest of her team accepts everyone else effortlessly.

she never once thought about this as a teenager, thinking about her dream job. she never imagined that she’d be tied down with ropes over something she could not control. y/n longed for that naivety again. when she could go about her life, not worrying about what anyone else thought. she wore her clothes however she wanted, and it stopped too early. she watched the men around her, and slowly realized that they’re not her friends. reality set in and took its course, slowing her down with the weight of society. she just wishes it could go back to the way it was when she was young and uneducated, and she never realized how quickly it ended.

she doesn’t say a word to buck about her days. she replies with a single word and she lets her boyfriend talk about his day. she’s sure it’s better than his, and there’s a part of her that envies him. their line of work isn’t easy for anyone, but somehow, it looked much easier on her boyfriend than it did for her.

firefighting once was her dream, her passion. now, it was her burden, her chore.

y/n didn’t want to fall into the stereotype of the ‘weak’ women who couldn’t handle the pressure. she stayed, letting herself fall behind as the others moved ahead. every single day was exhausting, and she wondered why she ever was told the saying, ‘you were born to do this’.

the days became monotonous, the same bullshit every day at work and then going home to sleep. it’s insane how words can hurt more than anything else, as they stole more of her energy with every remark and joke. she tried so hard not to let it get to her, but it just wore her out. was it really worth it if she was being treated like this?

buck noticed the changes in her attitude whenever they were to meet up again. he didn’t want to bother her, so he never mentioned it. he was so scared to make it worse. he’s gotten too much backlash from trying to make things better, so he tries to keep more to himself.

it became more visible to him the pain y/n had. she looked disappointed every morning, any mention of work, her face dropped. he never heard good things about where she worked, but he didn’t question it too much.

the five-alarm fire was the day buck finally pieces together the puzzle. he crossed paths with her, stopping to see her as the fire was settling down and was now under control. he had just ran back out, throwing his gear onto the engine and moving over to y/n.

“y/n!” he beams, seeing a corner of her mouth creep up. he was the sunshine in her dreary days, and she couldn’t help but feel a little hope when she saw him. it wasn’t enough of a cover for buck not to notice though. “how are you doing tonight? i think i’m off after this, if you wanna get drinks before going home?”

y/n wants to agree, to see her real friends at the 118, but she has a premonition that she’ll be exhausted anyway.

“sorry, buck,” she sighs. “i’m kind of tired already, and i just wanted to go home tonight.”

“that’s ok,” he tells her, still off about her mood. “hey, you know you can talk to me, right?”

“yeah, why?”

“i just feel like somethings wrong. i don’t want to make you upset but i don’t want you to be hurting alone.”

“i’m not hurting, buck,” she says through laughs, but he sees right through it.

“hey, what’s goi-“

“y/l/n!” her captain yells out. “did you get those files from earlier about the last five alarm?”

“not yet, sir,” she turns. “i was out on a call. i asked derosa to grab them for me before i left.”

her captain turns to face him, who just shrugs and comes up with an excuse. “sorry, cap, i forgot about getting those.”

“don’t worry about it,” he groans. “i told you to get those asap, what have you been doing?”

“i’ve been working, cap,” she replies back to him. it’s a clear answer, no lies or attitude.

“i don’t need the sass, y/l/n,” he sighs, looking down at her. she’s done what she’s asked, she’s saved lives and somehow it’s not enough. “i’ll be expecting those when we get back.”

he walks away, boots stomping and crunching on the cement beneath him. y/n turns back around to buck. “i guess i’ll be in a little after than you.”

“but didn’t the other guy forge-“

“buck, stop,” she tells him. “it’s nothing to worry about.”

“no, it matters to me if they’re not treating you right.”

“i’m being treated fine,”

“he just rolled his eyes at you and let the guys mock you. if derosa said the same thing, he’d be moving on,” buck throws one of his hands up, increasing y/n’s anxiety as he gets more and more upset. he can see it now, what’s been going on. he doesn’t see another woman with the same number on her helmet. y/n tries to deescalate the matter, but buck only wants to persevere and help. he knows he can, and he’s confused why she doesn’t want him too.

“i know what you want to do, but trust me, it only makes things worse. they don’t need to see my boyfriend defending me, it’s just another thing they can throw at me.”

“y/n, please-“

“no, buck!” her voice grows in volume, making her team look at her more. “just… i’ll see you at home, ok?”

he can see the slight shine in her eyes and she shakiness in her hands. he knows she gets like this when she’s anxious, and he feels even worse. he never, ever wanted to make it harder on her, and he can sense that he might’ve. when y/n turns to walk back to her engine, he overhears the little comments again.

“c’mon, y/l/n!” one of the men teases. “do you need a shoulder to cry on, sweetheart?”

“a smile would look nice on you,” another says. buck has no clue what to do. he knows anything he does will just fall onto her lap. he curses that it’s this way, but he knows he has to try and make a change.

he gets settled at home, the late hours of the night settling in. he’d been home for a while, y/n walking in with a folder in her hands and a weakened expression on her face. he stand up instantly, walking over to her and taking her bag to set it down. he lets the silence fill for a moment before speaking again.

“why didn’t you tell me they were like this?”

“you wouldn’t get it, buck.”

“i know that i don’t, but i want to hear you,” he tries to get her to open up, wanting so badly to comfort her through this. the reminders only aggravate her, and she feels guilty for feeling this way toward buck. he’s never done anything wrong, but she feels like everything is on her right now.

“fine,” she drops her phone down on the counter as he sits on one of the barstools. “that’s not even the worst they’ve said. i get shit like that every single day because they’re threatened by me. i have been getting through all my testing to get the hell out of there because it never stops. how i work, how i clean, how i look, if i wear make-up to work, i’m trying too hard, if i don’t wear any, i don’t look professional enough. if i try and intervene to give them the best option, i’m abrasive and bossy. if i don’t say anything, i’m submissive and that’s exactly what they want! i am nothing but a decoration for them. i am treated like a probie when i have probably been working twice as hard to get to where they are. maybe, if i had a dick, they’d say im a hard worker and i’d be praised, but im just a woman. and there is nothing anyone can do about it.”

buck looks into her eyes, seeing them fill with self-pity and hopelessness. he sees the tiredness in her eyes, his heart breaking even more. he fumbled with his fingers, not sure of what to say. “so, i have to help myself. on my own, buck. or the loop will start all over again.”

“i- um, i don’t-,” he mumbles, not really knowing what to say. “im so, so sorry, y/n.”

“you don’t have to be sorry, love,” she says. “i love you more than anything, but i never knew how sick i could get of men being this way.”

buck stands, walking over to her and taking her hands in his. “i want to help you. i’ll never understand what this feels like, but you have to know that i’m here for you.”

“i know, buck,” she smiles a little, starting to disintegrate the pain in her face. “i just didn’t know this was a competition.”

the night moves on, nothing at work changing despite bucks efforts. he texted his whole team, ranting and complaining and being taken aback by the way his sister and hen said, “that’s just how it is sometimes.” y/n pushes through the next few weeks, as well as cramming in any exams she has to move up and out of this station that can’t handle her.

when she’s alerted about a new position at the 118 from a retired firefighter, she knows what she has to do. she knows what she’ll say, but she knows the truth. she is worth more than any of what those men might say to her.

the last shift she has, she packs up her things as everyone leaves their usual stuff in. she has an extra bag, stuffing her belongings that she usually leaves there. “you finally fleeing, y/l/n?” her coworker says, gaining laughs from the rest of the men in the locker rooms.

“they all do, eventually.”

“actually, i got a job somewhere else,” she grins, looking down at them, watching them slip their shoes on as she stands up. they barely look at her, not a care in the world that she’s leaving. she’s reminded of the rankings at the 118, and how all of these firefighters would kill to be working at the highest station around.

“where, dispatch?” one jokes.

“the new lieutenant spot at the 118 is mine,” she tells them, turning heads as she picked up the rest of her stuff and started to head out the door. y/n can sense the jealousy on each of them creeping up. she peeks her head in one last time. “have fun here, firemen.”

as she drives home, she knows she has buck waiting for her. when she walks in, she knows she won. she has one of the highest spots in the city and the most loving man in her arms. buck noticed the change in her, seeing her at work finally content in a workplace free of scrutiny. she feels whole again, knowing that she’s wanted and appreciated here. it’s a family now, and it’s everything she’s wanted.

when buck sees that bright smile that he missed dearly walk back in the front door, he knows that he’s won.

[superblysubpar]

A/N: for @newlips #newlipsmilestoneoflove event! congratulations cece - you're truly so talented & inspiring - thanks for always working hard to bring the community together. And thank you for bringing personaltrainer!steve into my life, I hope this version of him lives up to the hype! To my lovely girls - thanks for literally holding my hand and forcing me to post this, it wouldn't have even been written without your constant encouragement & hive brain help.

I Want It, Can't Have It

personaltrainer!steve x fem!reader

Summary: Your co-worker Steve and you refuse to admit defeat in a game of who will give into their suppressed feelings for the other first. | masterlist | steve's music | NSFW 18+

WC Range: 5k-10k

Warnings: use of Y/N, Y/L/N, and too many petnames / talk of jealousy & comparison / a woman showing too much skin in the 80s?! Good heavens! / smut (unprotected piv - creampie, ass slapping and teasing, asking to cum, & public - locked bathroom door but people def know)

The smell of chlorine and lemon disinfectant, flickering fluorescents overhead and the record breaking ton of body spray wafting down the hall are making the tiny men with jackhammers inside your head work overtime today. 

Hearing him before you see him, you shake out a second pain reliever - taking preventive measures for the headache that was only about to be made worse.  

Whistling a top forty track, blazer’s squeaking against the tile of the hall - because he refuses to pick up his feet when he’s around you, and the thwip of a towel smacking a coworker’s ass as they banter all fall to your ears as he rounds the corner. 

Steve fucking Harrington. 

Unsure why, the two of you quickly agreed on one thing and one thing only upon your very first introduction: you positively hated each other and would do everything in your power to make sure the other never forgot.  

Eyes trained on the staff clipboard you’re filling out for taking medicine from the first aid kit, you choose to ignore him as he grows closer. Pen scratching against the paper, your senses try to focus on writing out your full name instead of how good he smells. A hard thing to not notice when it’s compared to the hazardous waste for sweat from the teenage boys you’d been forced to endure for the better part of the last hour. 

Of course, he can’t help himself and has to ruin the one thing that brings you semi enjoyment when in his presence, clearing his throat and nodding once, without even looking at you, “Jane Fonda.”

The use of one of the nicknames he refuses to let up with has your teeth grinding as you clench your jaw, “Bite me, Harrington.”

Steve spins, toned and tanned arms folded on the desk above you as he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, hazel eyes peering down at you with contempt, “Oh good, glad to see you’re in a swell mood as always.”

Shoving the clipboard back into its slot, you push back in the rolling chair, relishing in his clenched jaw when the wheel squeaks a little too loud - two can play at the causing a headache game. An exaggerated pout forming on your lips as you force a bubbly and higher tone, “Oh. I’m so sorry. Let me go curl my hair, pop on a bright pink lip, and add an extra little perky bounce to my step so you can ogle my ass in bright blue spandex.”

“Could ya?” Steve’s lips shift up into a lopsided smirk at you.

Huffing out a breath and crossing your arms, you can’t even get another jab in before his twelve o’clock bounces through the door. To neither of your surprise, she’s dressed exactly as you had just described - blonde hair piled high in a ponytail on the top of her head just like Barbie and just like you knew it would be. Watching Steve train her for the past several weeks has been nauseating to say the least. Her leg stretched up and over his shoulder, their smirks and less than subtle flirting, and her slaps and squeezes of his biceps in an eye twitch inducing sort of way. 

“Hi Steve,” her voice sugar and spice and everything you’re not as she blows a bright pink bubble with her gum. You’re surprised Steve doesn’t pop it for her as he leans in close enough, one elbow still on the desk.

“Well, don’t you look cute today,” his voice deeper and full of a charm that’s very lacking from the way he talks to you. 

Twelve o’clock Barbie beams and he gestures down the hallway, hand on her lower back as she brushes past him. Steve lets her trail ahead, tilting his head with a sigh as he watches her ass jiggle in all the right ways. 

Scoffing at him, you chuck a rolled towel directly at the side of his head and hiss, “You’re such a fucking pervert!”

Steve spins backwards, clutching his chest and groaning through a wide grin, “I love it when you talk dirty to me babe.”

Eyes narrowing at him as he high fives one of your coworkers as he turns back around, arm wrapping over the shoulders of Barbie. Her bright and bubbly laugh trails all the way down the hall back to you, “So, did you catch the game last night?”

Steve hums, “I don’t think so…which teams were playing?”

“Oh…uh…the Cubs?”

Rolling your eyes with a snort at her question of a response. 

Baseball. 

It’s fucking February. 

Randy, your co-worker, snickers and then looks at Dylan who rounded the corner as well, shaking his head, “Five bucks he pretends he did watch the game and does her in the locker room?”

Dylan laughs, sticking out his hand for a deal, “Ten if he gets her to tell him details of the nonexistent game too.”

The boys look at you laughing and don’t even try to hide their conversation or amusement with Steve the manwhore Harrington. You’re just one of the guys here, and something about this fact that’s never bothered you before, this interaction you’ve had many times already, is burning your blood a little more than you’d care to admit. 

Their words about her perfect hair, the curve of her ass in the spandex, and the low cut of the leotard are only flashing spotlights to your exact opposite features you can see in the reflection of the glass windows. Dull and sweat matted hair shoved under a baseball hat, dark and muted tones of your joggers and sweatshirt - which now has a stain on it from lunch. Curves don’t exist, your footwear is sensible, and your skin doesn’t have that perky glisten or glow - it’s sweaty and flushed in all the wrong ways. 

Yanking your whistle down from the hook, you push past the boys. You could care less about 12 o’clock Barbie and you’re happy with your life. Confident you don’t need someone like Steve Harrington in it to make you feel fulfilled because you are independent and have a clear and level head atop your shoulders. A man staring at your ass isn’t what you want, you want to be appreciated for your brains, personality, your interests - screw pretending to like baseball to get a guy to sleep with you. You want the one who knows you like it and genuinely wants to talk to you about it, baggy sweatshirt and all. 

But when you hear a giggle and see Steve and 12 o’clock Barbie sneaking into the bathroom your stomach somersaults and something in you snaps, shouting down the hall, “Harrington! Nobody’s paying you to sleep with clients!”

Steve freezes, his strained muscles and vein in his neck visible even at a distance and his face reddens. He’s pissed.

But he turns with a bright and forced smile as Barbie dips into the locker room with an inflamed face as well. Steve walks down the hall towards you, arms crossed and head tilted, “What the hell is your problem?”

You have a lot of problems. Number one being you don’t understand what possessed you to do that, but you can’t tell him that, obviously. Queen of thinking on your feet though, you cross your arms and cock your head, “Wouldn’t want you to lose your job for not being able to keep your dick in your pants is all, buddy.”

He scoffs loudly, stepping closer to you until your back hits the wall, “Really? I would’ve thought you were the first person wanting me out on my ass, Mary Lou.”

Rolling your eyes at the new nickname, you try to side step and get out of there but his hand pushes to the brick over your shoulder, caging you in. 

Steve towers over you, faces close together and he smirks as you squirm under his insistent gaze. Steve leans closer, “Oh, I get it,” he whispers, nose almost touching yours. He’s close enough for you to see his lashes, the gold flecks in his eyes, and the freckles that dot his nose. His breath mint and charm fanning across your cheeks as he continues, “You’re jealous.”

“As. Fucking. If,” you hiss at him, nose bumping his just barely as you lean forward and narrow your eyes. 

Steve and your shallow breaths mix and amplify in your ears, everything else muffled like it’s underwater. Fingers clenched into fists at your sides, Steve’s tongue dips out to lick his bottom lip. Yours part involuntarily, his eyes glint, the mossy color deepening to a mix of dangerous forest and stormy sea and god fucking dammit, you sigh. 

Someone, somewhere in the universe, slaps you in the face in the form of Barbie dipping out of the locker room and pulling both of your attention in a blur of turquoise. Steve’s arm drops and he steps back, a smile on his face again as he turns to her, “Hey babe, ready?”

He leaves with her and it isn’t until you see them disappear around the corner and you count to five that your muscles start to unfurl, fingers uncurling from where they had been pressing crescent moons into your palms. 

Your head falls back against the brick, “Shit.” 

Snapping the palette closed, you stare at the contents littering the counter of your bathroom, untypical for a weekday. 

No. You will not wear eyeshadow to your job at a gym. 

With time to reflect on what happened with Steve on Friday, you’d only stewed and steamed more about Barbie. Steve calling you jealous? Of what? Her perfect hair and skin and body and that she was the one who got his eyes to linger?

Please. 

Steve just loves that you’re not drooling and falling over yourself for him - a challenge, a toy he can’t have. You’ve worked with him and the boys long enough and they’re all the same. They love having a pretty thing wrapped around their arm, a token to remind them they’re a winner, because it’s all just a game. They live for the rush of the chase and the high of someone screaming their name like a stadium full of fans. And you know without a doubt, Steve calling you jealous and the incident on Friday was his tip of the ball to his side of the court. He wants you to beg for it. And you’re not going to do that, because you know that it’s actually Steve who wants you. 

Smirking, you pull out an outfit you’ve yet to wear to work, a little giddy from the plan that’s slowly formulating. Steve isn’t the only one who knows a thing or two about playing games, and it’s time to show him who he’s up against. 

As typical with Steve, he shows up after you to work that day. He’s always balancing a gym bag on his shoulder, jacket slung across only one arm like he couldn’t bother to finish putting it on, hair in disarray (spending the first half hour of his shift fixing it in the bathroom) and a bagel hanging between his lips, dropping sesame seeds across the floor. 

Normally, Steve won’t even blink twice in your direction upon arrival. If he does, it’s only because you’ve gotten in his way, demanded he pick up the bagel crumbs, or you’ve done something else in the minute you’ve been in each other’s presence to annoy one another. Enough for him to remove the bagel and actually banter with you verbally instead of a grunt. 

Today though, his blazers squeak to a sharp stop and much to your delight, the bagel falls out of his mouth and hits the floor, egg sliding out and splatting and echoing in the quiet entryway. 

Grabbing your whistle and heading towards the gym for the morning meeting, you brush past him, looking over your shoulder as you call, “You better clean that up!”

A smirk still sits on your lips as you enter the gym and the conversation of all of the boys stops. Rolling your eyes at their lack of subtlety in analyzing your new look, you take your normal seat and start peeling a banana. Clearing your throat loudly, before small conversations pick up again. 

“You look nice today, Y/N,” Dylan, who’s sitting next to you mumbles. He picks at a loose thread of his joggers, eyes flitting up to yours and back down to his pants. 

Really, your outfit is not that crazy. It’s still in your color palette of cooler tones, you’re not even wearing spandex for crying out loud. A little bit of midriff showing has these boys blushing more than they ever have around you, and it’s hard to hide your amusement at how easily your plan is being implemented without barely lifting a finger. 

Humming, you blink up at him innocently, “Thank you Dylan.”

He coughs into his fist, “Ye-yeah. Did you…did you do something different with your hair?”

Tilting your head at him, you time your laugh perfectly to Steve walking in, “No, nothing different with my hair…”

Dylan watches you, eyes eager on your mouth as you lift the banana up to your lips. Slowly taking a bite, you keep eye contact with him. Fluttering your eyelashes and humming around the fruit, his mouth falls open a little and it takes everything in you not to snort. Especially when a hand makes contact with the back of Dylan’s head and Steve’s bored tone falls directly behind you, “Are you twelve?”

Dylan’s cheeks turn pink and he turns sharply to the front of the room and you nudge his knee with yours, reassuring him it’s okay, before turning to face forward too. A small smile sitting on his lips and you relish in Steve’s sigh behind you. 

Unfortunately, Steve seems to realize what you’re doing far sooner than you anticipated. 

As your boss begins the meeting, hot breath fans across your neck, his voice low and barely audible even with his lips just brushing your ear, “Nice try.”

Your body betrays you and a chill runs down your spine, causing a shiver despite the embarrassed and irritated heat trying to reach every corner of your skin. You know if you turn around you’ll be face to face with a smug look and crossed muscular arms, so you don’t put yourself through the misery. 

Steve is better at this, you hate to say it, but it just means you have to think of new ideas for your playbook. 

Your clothes only get tighter and expose more skin each day. You’re playing dirty: leaning over him to grab a clipboard so your chest brushes against his arm, bending down to tie your shoe right in front of him, and at one point you tugged on the whistle around Dylan’s neck right in front of him before swaying your hips as you left him standing there shaking his head. But Steve barely broke, a tough competitor with a good defense and even better offense. Steve’s hand found your lower back in passing, brushing a piece of hair from your cheek, and his flirting with Barbie and other clients only got more obvious which you didn’t think was possible. 

A week of going head to head with Steve in these little games all to prove that you weren’t jealous and it was him that wanted you. But, he was still determined it was the other way around, waiting for you to beg, to wave the white flag and just let him win. Today was your final straw, pulling out all of the stops - black spandex biker shorts and a black sports bra with, much as you hated to do it, a face full of makeup and hair styled. 

When you arrive at work on Friday, you have to actively focus on keeping your composure around Steve because it seemed he was taking a final stand in this war as well - black baseball hat, shirtless while playing basketball, his shorts slung low on his hips. 

You hate him. 

Friday’s were slow though, thankfully, and had Steve and you basically switching jobs, you with clients and him in the gym - away from each other for most of the day. Or at least, you should be away from one another for most of the day. 

Filling out a form while leaning against the counter, Steve’s voice draws your attention, “Hey, Muscles.”

A smile twitches on your lips and you look up to see him pulling a gray shirt on as he approaches, eyes lingering on the lines of his stomach, the trail of hair leading to a black elastic band peeking out of his shorts. 

Turning your body towards him, you relish in his own lingering gaze over you as you tilt your head, “Muscles? That’s a new one. And, dare I say, a compliment?”

Steve leans against the counter, squeezing water from his bottle into his mouth, some dribbling out, and you hate that you want to lick the small bead of water directly off of his skin. He shrugs, trying to act nonchalant and turns his hat backwards before facing the counter. Drumming his fingers against it aimlessly, he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and sighs before admitting, “Well, you have been showing them off a bit more this week.”

Rising onto your toes, you drop the pen on the other side of the desk and risk a glance back at him. But he’s too busy staring down at your ass and you whisper, “Seen anything else you’ve liked this week?”

Steve’s eyes dart up to yours quickly, licking his lips as his hands land on top of his hat, his arms flexing as he breathes out a quiet laugh that ends in a groan, “Fuck.”

A smile worthy of a championship victory fills your face and he rolls his eyes. Before either of you can say anything, the voice of your boss hollers loudly across the room, “Y/L/N!”

“Yes sir?” turning to face him, you stand up a little straighter at his tone and quickly forming scowl.

He sighs as he approaches and glances at Steve who attempts to keep himself busy with a clipboard a few steps away. Your boss is nice, stuck in that sort of manly man kind of world and opinions, but nice nonetheless. You do good work and you’ve never had this sort of look opposite of you. He rubs his temples and he sighs, “I need you to find a change of clothes.”

Snorting before you realize he’s serious, he crosses his arms and you match him, your mouth dropping open as you ask, “Are you serious? Why?”

“Listen, just, this is a professional work environment and you’re showing a lot of skin and I need you to-”

Holding your hand up, you interrupt him, “That is absolutely ridiculous. No.”

He groans and grabs a stack of clipboards, “Don’t get upset, please. You’re a good worker and I don’t want to write you up but-”

Your laughter is loud and you throw an arm out to Steve who’s failing to pretend he’s not listening, “So Harrington can basically have his dick in a client, but I can’t show my shoulders and stomach?”

“Y/L/N! Enough! Get a sweatshirt. This is your only warning.” He walks away with the clipboards and you’re left seething, kicking the counter with a grunt. 

Forgetting that Steve was even there to witness all of that, you’re reminded when a piece of fabric brushes your shoulder. Eyes snapping to his, you glare at him, yanking it from his outstretched hand and stalking away before he can give you any sort of pity. 

Fingers brushing under your lashes, you refuse to cry about any of it, screw this place, screw your boss and screw Steve. It’s his fault you changed how you looked. It’s his fault your boss doesn’t take you seriously now. It’s Steve’s fault that you let a “victory” over something so stupid and juvenile cloud you from your work and your values. You changed your clothes, your appearance, and your attitude, and for what? To prove Steve likes a different version of you? Does it even feel good knowing you got his attention?

Pulling the sweatshirt on, you hate that you recognize that it’s his from the smell filling your senses. Hands shove themselves inside the pockets and they brush against a piece of paper. A folded sheet from a notebook with your initial on the front, you pull it open to see ‘Meet me. Bathroom. -Steve’.

Scoffing, you shove it back in the pocket and storm off towards the staff bathroom. He’s so full of himself, probably expecting to swoop in and comfort you and still score. You slam the door open and he jumps, grabbing at his chest before resting his hands on his knees.

“Jesus Christ, could kill a guy with an entrance like that.”

Closing the door and leaning against it, you cross your arms and hiss, “What do you want, Harrington?”

He stands and mirrors your stance, leaning against the sink as he shrugs, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“I’m fine. Thanks for the sweatshirt. Anything else?” you don’t make any movements to leave despite your better judgements.

He leans his hands back on the counter, smirking, “Well, I couldn’t help but overhear you’ve been thinking about my dick.”

Pushing yourself off of the door, you snort, “Seriously? Do you really think I still want to sleep with you?”

Steve’s smirk widens, lips upturned slightly higher on one side in a signature lopsided grin, “Still?”

Your hand points at him, stopping any sort of thoughts from running away, “No. Listen. Steve, you only started to give me the time of day when I dressed differently, when I acted like those other girls and I hate to break it to you, but I am and never will be like Barbie.”

Steve takes a step closer, toes of your shoes touching and he reaches for your wrist, thumb brushing over the skin tenderly in a way you never expected from him as he shakes his head, “You’re crazy if you think I wasn’t staring at your ass before this week, Florence.”

Heart thrumming at his admission, you tilt your head at the new name, “Florence?”

Steve’s fingers brush up your forearm, gliding under his sweatshirt, “Griffith-Joyner? Flo-Jo?”

Breath hitching, you’re starting to wonder if he’s looking up these women on purpose. Thoughts of Steve researching or deciding new names to call you outside of work sends electric jolts straight to your heart. He can’t know, and you can’t let him think you’re falling for any of this and you start to pull away. His fingers are on your shoulder now and he sighs. From how his eyes are peering directly into your soul, you know he already knows that you’re hooked - line and sinker. 

He pulls you closer, fingers on the back of your neck, the other hand reaching up to cradle your jaw and his nose nudges yours, “Say you want this.”

Your hands work on their own accord, pushing up his chest to around his neck, head craning to arch back, rising on your toes slightly as your lips catch his barely as you breathe out, “You first.”

His hand on your neck squeezes lightly, laughing a little into your parted lips, “Fuck, you’re so stubborn.”

Steps falling backwards, your shoes are being kicked off your feet, “Wh-what time is it?”

Steve blinks at you, barely pulling away, his body pressing you against the door now, “What?”

Your hands find his hips, fingers dipping under the elastic waistband, “I have a 2 o’clock appointment.”

Steve breathes out, bottom lip catching your top one, “Shit, yeah, I’ll be…I’ll be fast.”

Laughing, your hands push at his shorts, “Is that supposed to impress me Harring-”

“Fuck, just shut up,” he commands, mouth swallowing the end of your sentence in a kiss. 

Steve’s thumb brushes against your jaw as your mouths move with each other’s quickly, like that first sip of water after hours of sweating. Steve kisses you like it’s the first and the last, somehow tender and forceful, fingers tangling in your hair while his tongue pushes against yours. 

Pants shed quickly, his other hand rubs against the front of your already wet underwear and he moans into your lips. Breaking away, you finish pulling his boxers down and bite your lip as the swollen red tip of his length twitches under your touch. 

Steve’s fingers tug your underwear aside, finger running up and down through your slick in a way that makes your legs buckle. His breath is shallow against your skin, foreheads touching but you can still see his smirk, “Think you can handle it, pretty girl?”

Fingers wrapping around his length, you roll your eyes and ignore the way the ‘pretty girl’ makes your stomach flutter alive with a swarm of butterflies, “Please, it’s not that big.”

Steve laughs, a little too loudly, and your other hand slaps over his mouth. His eyes sparkle above you, gold flecks that seem like your own little personal spotlights, lighting you up in a way you didn’t dare dream of. 

You are fucked. 

But he can’t know that, he can’t win. Because despite the way his fingers dipping into your entrance suddenly has you gasping and your eyes rolling, the way your thumb swipes over his leaking tip has the same effect on him. It’s an even playing field and you’re determined to make him sweat a little more. 

Your hands move around his neck, pulling his mouth to yours, “You have five minutes to prove me wrong, Harrington, think you can handle the pressure?”

Steve’s hands find your hips and lift you, your legs wrapping around his waist like you’ve done it hundreds of times before and he looks down at them with raised eyebrows, “Have you done this before?”

“Four minutes and forty eight seconds Steven,” you catch his bottom lip and he moans. 

His fingers hold your underwear aside as he rolls his hips, coating his dick in your slick with a few swipes through you, tip catching your clit before sliding back down and pushing into you forcefully and without warning. He catches your scream and gasps with his mouth, nodding against you as he slowly continues to push into you. Your fingers grip the back of his head, causing his hat to fall off, as your head smacks into the door behind you, back arching away from it. Steve’s hands on your hips hold you steady, fingers digging into the plush skin of your ass as they caress down and cup it. 

Once he’s fully inside of you, and your breathing seems to slow again, he pulls his mouth away just enough to whisper, “Knew ya could handle it.”

“Four…fuck…minutes” his hips roll against yours and a moan echos across the tiles and the distinct sound of a click of the lock as his hand reaches below you. 

Your body heats with embarrassment, you hadn’t even thought about locking the door and Steve knows it. Your fingers tug at the back of his head in an effort to gain control again, yanking it a little too forcefully and he growls as you hiss, “Gonna move or not?”

Steve’s hands move back to your hips after giving your ass a harsher squeeze, pulling out of you slowly, “Are you ever not bossy?”

Before you can reply he’s pushing back into you, smirking at the way your mouth falls open and no sound leaving it as he hits the deep spot inside of you quickly. He continues his slow pulls and forceful pushes, the muscles of his shoulder tensing, able to feel each twitch and move under your hands through his shirt. His fingertips bruise your hips, dragging your slick walls back and forth across his length at an agonizing pace. Your legs locked around his waist, you glance down to where your bodies connect, the sight of your slick coating the rough patch of hair at his base making your walls clench around him tighter. Steve’s breath hits your neck, squeezing your hips even harder as he gasps out against your temple. 

Smirking at his weakening defenses, you hide your own insatiable desire, teasing, “Harder, Steve.”

The boy whimpers, nose pressing into the sweat slick skin of your neck as his hips pick up their pace. The sounds of your shallow breaths mix with the sharp slapping of your skin, and he groans, “Fuck-I can’t…I can’t-”

“Come on, Steve, this is the best you can do? I thought you do this all the ti-”

He’s had it with your teasing finally it seems, and he pulls out of you harshly, arm wrapping around your waist to spin you before yanking you back against his chest. 

Wet lips brush your jaw from behind, arm squeezing in a warning around your stomach, “Tell me what to do again. See what happens.”

Biting the inside of your lip, you don’t trust your voice to not give away the tidal wave of arousal that’s threatening to crack the dams you have in place. A breath out through your nose before you whisper, “Don’t be mean.”

He laughs against your neck, lips dragging down and awaking a sea of goosebumps to rise across your skin. He speaks into the sweat kissed dip of your shoulder, “So, she dishes it out, but can’t take it?”

Before you can even respond, Steve’s pushing your back, chest falling to the counter in front of you as his hands find your hips. His voice is stronger, deeper, rougher as he commands, “Open.”

Your head falls forward, eyes squeezing shut at his tone, thighs sticky and pushed together tightly from the arousal that’s reached its breaking point with barely any touching and a simple word.  

The swollen and wet tip of his cock presses into your ass as he squeezes your hips, “Baby, don’t make me say it again.”

Every time he’s called you a name other than an athlete has you seeing stars already, wanting to keep playing the game to see how many more you can collect. Pressing yourself against him, you arch your back as you pout, “A please would be nice.”

His hand connects with your ass, a sharp smack that echoes and stings as he mocks, “Please?”

Legs falling open easily, he slides himself through your slick, dragging and coating his tip in your arousal even more, you know you’ve lost, because he’s the one with the power now. His hand pushes between your shoulder blades, the other gripping the dough of a cheek, slapping it again as his tip bumps your swollen nerves with a precision you know is one hundred percent on purpose and stupidly accurate. 

Without warning again, Steve pushes into your entrance, a cry stopped by the press of your teeth into your bottom lip as your fingers grasp for purchase on the flat surface beneath you. 

Steve’s agonizing pace from earlier is gone, slamming his body against yours in a brutal and bruising speed. Your hands start to push against the counter and Steve’s hand drags down your spine, pushing on your lower back gently in contrast to his forceful command, “Don’t move.”

Walls tightening around his cock at his tone, the sounds of him pulling and pushing into your dripping center mix with the quiet bump of your knees hitting the cabinet in front of you rhythmically.   

His fingers not on your back knead into the plush skin of your ass after smacking it lighter than before, but still hard enough for you to tighten around him again. He moans, huffing a long breath out of his nose, “Fuck, like being told what to do, huh?”

Hips never stopping their harsh thrusts, your breath sticks in your chest as you keep your moans stifled, threatening to bubble up and past your lips as he smacks the same spot again, the sting coating your lashes in wetness as he whispers, “I asked you a question babe.”

It’s a breath, and if you couldn’t see yourself in the mirror in front of you, you may not have even realized you admitted it, “Yes.”

Steve’s fingers trail from their soothing kneading against the red skin, to your hip, brushing down your thigh and back up. His hips roll and he picks up his pace, humming out a content sigh at your admission. His eyes lock on yours in the mirror and he smirks, “So good for me, being such a - shit,” his eyes close as you push your ass back against him, slipping him in deeper than before, fingers dragging on the cool counter. He grunts through the rest of his sentence, “You’re so mean to me, but this is what you wanted all along, yeah?”

Moaning at his question, your eyes squeeze closed, the coil inside of your stomach pulled tight, body vibrating and chasing that breaking point until you have to release. He leans forward, brushing his lips against your shoulder, hands back to your hips as he hits that deep spot inside of you repeatedly with bruising accuracy. Steve smiles against your skin, “You act all disgusted by me too, and turns out,” his lips and nose glide across your muscles, warm breath fanning across your skin and his fingers brush back up to your hips as his mouth opens more against you, trailing to your neck. His breath shoots the tightening in your stomach into overdrive and a whine falls from your parting lips as his fingers adjust on your hips, whispering, “You’re just as much of a slut as I am.”

Eyes fluttering and breath hitching at his comment, your back arches up again, but not far enough before he presses his weight against you. Pushing himself faster and to a spot that feels like you can feel him rearranging your guts and you both moan loudly, his breath hitting your neck in a way that has your fingers searching for purchase beneath them, whining louder and your knees aching to collapse. 

Steve gasps harshly, sucking in a deep breath he can’t quite finish, the sound directly in your ear and before another moan can break past your lips, his hand is coming up to press over your mouth. Your eyes rolling back as he whispers against the shell of your ear, “Be good baby. Wouldn’t want anyone to get fired for not keeping their dick in their pants, right?”

Nodding your head as he slowly lets his hand go. Your sighs quiet until his other hand wraps around your waist, pressing the pads of his fingertips into your swollen button. You jolt at the stimulation he had yet to reward you with, knees losing their battle and buckling, Steve holds you up, grunting as you cry out quietly, “St-steve.”

Somehow quickening his pace, his thumbs circular motions match perfectly to the rhythm of his hips, “Quiet, come on, babe, thought you were good at following instructions.”

Whimpering as he thrusts into you harder, your body fully collapsing against the counter, cheek pressed to the cool of the stone underneath it. Steve’s swirls to your swollen nerves are the breaking point, the added weight that breaks you from pushing it any further, unable to do another rep and your lashes wet, “Steve, I’m gonna - fuck, I-”

He can feel you tightening around him, his own hips stuttering but the game isn’t over yet. His mouth drags down your neck and another shiver runs through you as he smirks into your shoulder, “A please would be nice.”

And with your own sentence thrown back at you, he’s won.

Eyes opening, you see his own watching your body swallow everything he gives it eagerly. Standing back up fully, his cheeks flushed pink, hair sweeping across his forehead. His fingers dig into your hips as his bottom lip pulls between his teeth. His head falls backwards, breath huffed out of his nose. 

“Please.”

Unsure if he says it again or it’s you, both of you collapse into the feeling of releasing. His thumb continues its circling as his hips stutter un-rhythmically. Both of you gasping out for breath as your walls milk his release and your body relaxes into its own. Muscles unfurling, fingers flattening to the counter, back arching as his hand caresses down your spine in buzzing tenderness. Meeting gazes in the mirror again, his chest heaves in time with yours and your rolling eyes are met with a widening grin on his face. 

A loud knock comes from the door and you both jump, your hand slapping over your mouth as Dylan’s voice calls through the closed door, “Y/N! You in there? Mr. Conners has been out in the lobby for ten minutes!”

Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand from across your mouth. He presses it down, covering it on the counter with his large one. His other squeezes your hip as he stays buried inside of you. He nips at your neck and you squeak out, “Uh-I, I’m not feeling well, can someone else do it?”

A huff on the outside of the door and Steve’s mouth starts sucking a bruise into the skin below your ear and you smirk, calling out more confidently, “I bet Steve could! He’s not doing anything today!”

Steve pinches your waist and you yelp, walls tightening around him and he moans loudly at the feeling, still sensitive from his release. Reaching up awkwardly from your still bent position, you flick the side of his head. 

A louder sigh from the other side of the door and a groan, “Man, fuck you Harrington. I know you’re in there with her!”

Steve and your laughter is hard to keep quiet as Dylan kicks the door, his voice trailing off as he walks away, “You just can’t let anyone else win can you? You two deserve each other.”

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

Steve Tag List: @boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @edsforehead

[fandomnerd9602]

Inspirations

Rockstar!Wanda x Reader

Dating a rockstar is rarely easy. If it’s not the countless hours of band practice, it’s the touring dates that keep your Wanda from you. But it was moments like today that you treasure.

You met Wanda Maximoff, the lead singer of your favorite band The Scarlet Witches at one of her concerts. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of you either. Just something about the two of you seemed to click at some deeper level without even having to say a word. She had security bring you to her backstage and that’s how you and her met. It was like its own form of magic.

Days like today were ones that you and Wanda treasured. She was finally able to spend time with you.

You would never guess how happy she made you if you just went off her rock and roll lyrics. The ones you heard and the ones that launched her career all had an undercurrent of heartache and loss. She never told you why her lyrics were like that but you just accepted that she would tell you with time.

Wanda invited you over to her apartment. Modest for how big of a star she was. She kept it modestly furnished and with a few photos. Wanda was dancing to herself in the kitchen as she made lunch for you and her. You found yourself looking at some of the photos of her.

You saw one of the founding of her band with Agatha and Natasha. Another of her with her brother and manager Pietro. But then one caught your eye. It was her in a wedding dress with a man you never saw before. They looked happy. Wanda gazed at this mystery man with the kind of adoration she’s been showing you.

Your gaze on the photo was broken by Wanda’s gasp. Every ounce of confidence she had was gone in that split second. You saw the confident rockstar shrink in on herself. Tears were already beginning to flow from her emerald eyes.

“Who’s this?” You asked her, pointing to the photo. Part of you worried that you were some sort of side piece to Wanda.

“That’s Vis,” Wanda whispered. “He was my husband.”

“Was?” You could already see Wanda breaking inside. How desperately you just wanted to close the gap between you and her and just wrap her in a hug.

“He and I weren’t married very long,” she tried to explain, you could see her breathing becoming sorrowful, “he…he didn’t make it. We had just celebrated our one year anniversary when-“ Wanda’s entire resolved broke. Her head dropped and the tears started flowing.

You didn’t hesitate to wrap her in a hug this time. You rubbed her back reassuringly.

“He was the reason I started writing and performing,” she whispered against your chest, “it just helped me to cope”

You just rocked her gently. Just holding her, letting her cry.

“I’m so sorry” she apologized profusely under her breath.

You kiss her head and wipe her tears away with your thumbs. “Don’t be. He was your love, your life, your…your inspiration”

Wanda’s eyes met yours. You could stare into her very soul and never get tired of looking. Her gaze went down to your lips and then back to your eyes.

You got her little hint. You pulled her close and kissed her, your lips gently brush against one another’s. Lost in that tiny moment of eternity.

She wrapped her arms around your neck. Her kiss deepened. It was like kissing you was her way of gasping for air.

“I love you” she whispered.

“I love you” you whispered back.

She jumped up, wrapping her legs around your waist. Her kisses didn’t stop. She was desperate for your touch.

“Couch or bed?” You asked your rockstar girlfriend.

“Bed’s too far,” she giggles before kissing you again. You gently walk her to the couch and lay her down gently.

Wanda didn’t tell you before about the inspiration for her songs. But thanks to you, Wanda Maximoff had another inspiration: one that gave her the courage to live and love again.

[bp-trio]

(  ALL IN ENGLISH )

[ CROWD CALLING ]

[ PAPARAZZI: HANA, OVER HERE ]

[ PAPARAZZI: HANA, OVER THE SHOULDER ]

Hana opens the door introducing herself with a smile. "Hey Vogue! It's Hana and you guys are getting ready with me for the Met." She says with a cheery tone as her staff cheer, causing her to giggle.

[ UPBEAT ORCHESTRAL MUSIC ]

Hana sits on her chair while her stylists swarm around her, trying to do her hair and makeup. "So today I'm going to be wearing a custom made dress and heels sent by the incredible Versace."

"The look is inspired by Barbie. So actually I was the one who came up with the theme of Barbie. One day I was watching Barbie: A fashion fairytale with my niece and I thought Barbie would be a good theme to go with as the theme for this year Met gala is the embodiment of an American style. And what's more American than Barbie. I actually dyed my hair blonde for the first time for this.”Hana explains her dress.

"So, I send my idea to Donatella and she absolutely loved the idea. So this is our take on Barbie, I guess." She says smiling before walking to into the closet to get changed before coming out in a very long pink dress. 

[ CLASSICAL PIANO MUSIC ]

"Rose and I used to dream about ever attending a Met Ball. And never really even believing that would ever happen. Is the literally the biggest dream come true." She says doing a big twirl.

"This is my first time going to the Met gala so I'm just looking forward to being there. I feel like I've seen it for so many years, so it'll be interesting to see what reality of the Met really is. So I hope I don't trip On this dress." She stands still while her stylists are fixing the dress.

Hana now has her hair, nails and makeup done, so she begins to taking pictures on her phone in the mirror and having her staff help her take pictures for her.

Once she received the signal to leave, the Vogue camera follows her outside to where many fans stood behind barriers cheering and scream her name as she and her team leave the hotel. Hana waves at them as she was being escorted to the car. Hana blows a kiss to fans before the door was closed behind her.

"WE LOVE YOU HANA!" A group of fans cheer to the Vogue camera before the videos ends.

[ INTERVIEW; Blackpink's Hana on Attending Her First Met Gala | Met Gala 2021 With Emma Chamberlain ]

Hana walked up to Emma with a warm smile. “No freakin’ way.” Emma said. “Hi!” Hana said as she gave Emma a hug. “Umm, Hello. Excuse me but you look so gorgeous right now.” Hana thanked her. “Thank you. I’m glad my first gala is going well so far.”

“Wait! This is your first Met Gala?” Hana nodded. “No way. Me too.”

“Really?” Hana asked enthusiastically, now feeling less anxious since she wasn’t the only first-timer with Rosé. “Yeah! I honestly thought you have been to the Met before since you have become such a big icon in the fashion world.”

Hana shocked her head, “No, it’s my first time and Rosé’s.

“So, tell me about your outfit?”

“To do that, I would have to bring this brilliant woman to the spotlight.” Hana brings her hand out, and Donatella comes from the corner and takes her hand.

“Hi, how are you?” Donatella asked Emma, “I’m so good, how are you?”

“Very good, thank you.” Donatella responded with a smile.

“So obviously I know who you are wearing. Tell me how you guys came to the conclusion about this dress.”

“Well, when we found out about the theme for this year’s Met Gala, we had many ideas. Hana came up to the brilliant idea of using Barbie for the theme and it was only right that we create custom dress. It’s one for the books and Hana is perfect for this dress. She brings out every aspect of the dress and more.” Donatella explained with her thick Italian accent, her passion shown through each word she said.

“That’s amazing. You really pull of this dress amazingly. I love all of this. So how many Met Gala have you been to?” Emma asked Donatella. “Lots and lots. Twenty maybe?” Donatella laughed. “No way.”

“Yeah.”

“So I feel like you are the best person to ask this. What advice would you give to us? It’s my first and Hana’s. I have no idea what to expect.” Emma asked.

“You are gonna be surrounded by people with lots of creativity and the Met is one of those events that allow you to connect with people. There’s something very special about the Met. So when you are in this great building and have the courage, and freedom to express yourself. My big takeaway is have fun.”

“That’s amazing. Well, I’ll see you guys in there.”

“Thank you.” Hana and Donatella say simultaneously.

[ RED CARPET MOMENTS ]

• Hana and Rosé arriving together. Creating one of the most iconic pictures in the Met Gala history.

•Hana and Donatella Versace being each other’s date.

• Hana staying a little longer than she was supposed to watch Lil Nas X’s transformation on the red carpet.

• Hana and Normani posing together.

[ CLEVVER STYLE ]

[ Best & Worst dressed Met Gala 2021 ]

[ Drew Dorsey ]: oh man, you guys! It is not the first Monday in May, but it is a Monday in September. The 2021 Met Gala is coming at ya!

[ Jackie Iadonisi ]: I can't believe we're here. I can't believe people are actually there. On the carpet, walking it. We are at the 2021 Met Gala, it's happening!

[ Drew Dorsey ]: it's very exciting. This year's theme is America: A lexicon of Fashion and it is very exciting because we did not get the Met Gala last year but we are getting it in 2021. All guests are fully vaccinated and masked, and we are back in Here.

[ Jackie Iadonisi ]: woo woo! And it's also really important because this is coming off the 20th anniversary of 9/11, and it's the tail end of New York Fashion Week, so it's just fashion on fashion on fashion, people, people, people, outfits. I can't wait to see these looks.

[ Drew Dorsey ]: So exciting. Also can we talk about the co-chairs, okay? We have Billie Eilish, we have Hana, we have Rosé, we have Timothee Chalamet, and we are up in here, okay? So you guys know we gotta talk about the fashion.

[ Drew Dorsey ]: it's dirty laundry.

[ Jackie Iadonisi ]: you know. let's go.

( LIGHT MUSIC )

( SHOWS VIDEO OF HANA ON CARPET POSING FOR THE CAMERAS AND PICTURES OF HER )

[ Carly Henderson ]: Hana, looking like a true Barbie doll coming to live.

[ Renee Ariel ]: oh my god. I'm here everything about this. She looks absolutely stunning.

[ Jackie Iadonisi & Drew Dorsey]: Ooh, okayyy. Oh my god.

[ Drew Dorsey ]: Wow, she is so pretty and her dress it's to die for.

[ Jackie Iadonisi ]: Okay, Hana in all custom made Versace. Looking good, looking fly.

[ Renee Ariel ]: Listen, she brought it. This is her first ever Met Gala and I love this look.

[ Carly Henderson ]: I love that her waist looks so snatched and small. And it's makes it the dress look even more amazing than it already is.

[ Drew Dorsey ]: I love this Barbie theme look and the split in the dress is gorgeous and makes her legs look long and sexy. I absolutely love the slit v in the middle of the dress.

[ Jackie Iadonisi ]: I completely agree with you. Her eyes are so pretty.

[ Carly Henderson ]: oh, the jewelry!"

[ Renee Ariel ]: it's all custom made MIKIMOTO 18k Pearl necklace and earrings for her birthday.

[ Carly Henderson ]: oh wow. I wish I got all custom made 18k diamonds for my birthday.

[ Drew Dorsey ]: her shoulder look absolutely amazing. I love the fact she dyed her hair to blonde.

[ Jackie Iadonisi ]: we just gotta talk about Hana for a second, because she's been having a moment after a moment with her solo career. Ah, she is absolutely amazing and an icon.

[ Drew Dorsey ]: Then She brought it to the Met Gala in this, the dress looks like an art piece to me. This is such a gorgeous dress. The color on her is incredible, and the fact that she carried it on with the eyeshadow, this colorful pink makeup look of the night. Obsessed with it, and the confidence, taking up the space. I'm here for it.

[ AFTER PARTY ICONIC MOMENTS ]

•Hana arriving with Rosé. Both were seen dancing with many top celebrities, such as Olivia Rodrigo, smiling and laughing.

•Hana taking part in fun drinking games.

•Hana officially became best friends with Megan Thee Stallion.

•Hana dancing with Anitta and Lil Nas X.

•Many celebrities taking a photo with her and following her on social media.

•Rihanna posting Hana on her Insta story. In the clip, both of them look happy in each other's company where Hana waves at the cam and also showers a flying kiss.

•Rihanna saying she would steal Hana from her company to her sign if she had an entertainment agency.

•Hana, Hailey Bieber, and Kendall Jenner playing rock, paper, and scissors.

• Hana getting a ride in a private helicopter to her hotel.

[oc-challenges]

WELCOME TO THE OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE!

Calling all the monsters, it's time for the OC 2023 Halloween Challenge! This challenge has been hauntin' you for five years, and we're wantin' you to participate!

If you're new here, here's what you need to know: This is an event that takes place over the 31 days of October and presents oc creators with Halloween-themed challenges to get the creative juices dancing. It is open to creations for both fanfiction and original ocs, and if you want to participate you don't have to every one or even in order. It is brought to you by @purpleyearning / @aliverse, @elmunson, and includes suggestions by members of our discord! (special thanks to @endless-hoppington for helping with some descs)

Rules

DO NOT copy others edits.

If you are doing crossovers, PLEASE make sure that the creator of the other oc is okay with crossovers.

If you want your post to be reblogged onto this blog, it must contain the hashtag ohc2023.

Feel free to ask questions, I promise I’m more treat than trick.

Everything is up to the creators interpretation, although I have tried to include some examples for help!

Have fun!

RANDOM/THEMELESS (1st–5th) Some of the challenges that don't coincide with each other.

Day One: Life In Plastic

It's fantastic! Is your OC more of a Barbie or a Bratz? Maybe they go to Monster High, or they're an American Girl Doll with an inspiring story? Perhaps you want to make a Funko version of your OC? To put it simply, this day is about dolls as an ode to the best movie of 2023; Barbie.

Day Two: Lights, Camera, Action!

For day two, we're combining oc as canon, oc as celebrity, and oc's social media into one day where you get to choose which of those challenges you would like to do... maybe even all of them!

Day Three: Born In The Wrong Century

Movies depend on a lot of things, but time and place helps create the ominous feel for it. Like Crimson Peak that belongs to the revival gothic period of 1880s or Jason Voorhees waking up on a spaceship in the year of 2455, give your character(s) a new decade to explore and even monsters to face.

Day Four: Twisted

From reality episodes where two people experience switching roles with one another to an alternative reality where their roles are different from their home's universe, make your character experience life through a whole new perspective by making your hero the villain or your villain the hero.

Day Five: Vampires, Werewolves, and Witches... Oh My!

From Godzilla to Dracula to The Mummy, the monster-verse is rich with lore. Today we focus on those monsters that never go out of style, after all they’re called classics for a reason. Is your oc Frankenstein or his monster?

OH, YOU WANNA PLAY PSYCHO KILLER? CAN I BE THE HELPLESS VICTIM? (6th–12th) Due to its popularity last year, we're bringing back the horror character tropes week.

Day Six: The Harmless Antagonist

Ah, a classic in more than just horror; the mean gorgeous holier-than-thou character; more specifics of this are often The Jock, The Cheerleader, The “Slut”, The Bitch, The Rich Kid, etc. While they may annoy the main character or make their everyday life difficult with academic rivalry or teasing, they’re really nothing compared to the new enemy; the thing or person killing everyone. Which one of your ocs is getting brutally knocked down a peg… or the stairs?

Day Seven: The Comedic Relief

Honestly, they make even the scariest movies bearable. They're almost never the main character but almost always the most liked. They say laughter is medicine for the soul, so which of your ocs soothes the characters and the situation with a joke made at the worst of times?

Day Eight: The Denier/Non-Believer/Skeptic

It doesn’t matter the subgenre, there’s always one. They don’t believe a killers out to get them or their friends despite the fast growing pile of bodies, they claim there’s a natural explanation for the supernatural event terrorizing everyone, they just refuse to get with the program. This often combines with the cop or older-than-everyone-else character. Which one of your ocs will get killed by their stubborness before their loyalty?

Day Nine: The Harbinger

We hear about omens of death in every kind of mythology. Irish folklore warns you of hearing the wailing woman and German myth tells you to never find your doppelganger. Even Western Society in America will drift from their path if they see a black cat on the way. So which of your ocs stands outside of the haunted house and tells the redheaded twins “you’re going to die in there”?

Day Ten: The Accomplice

You never saw it coming, but you should’ve. There’s not just one killer you have to worry about, there’s two. This is the person whose been helping the killer since the very beginning, pretending to be your friend the entire time until the plot reached its rising action. You’re heart broken and the very ground shakes under your feet, the good person you once thought you knew is gone… or worse, had never truly existed. Which of your ocs is not only willing to help a friend hide the body, but kill it too?

Day Eleven: The Killer

They’re haunted and bloodthirsty, compelling in a dangerous way. Everyone has a monster within but due to some tragic backstory of abuse, hate, or ridicule, these people – or things– let the monster win. Whether they done a mask or turn your dreams into sentient nightmares, they’re the main reason why anybody shows up to movie night. Which one of your ocs looks into the reflection of the knife in their hand, and pictures themselves chopping up human bodies instead of vegetables?

Day Twelve: The Final Girl

It’s all come down to this, the last stand. There’s two people left, or at least two important people left; the killer and the final girl. She’s fought tooth and nail, and grief has made way for rage. At first she was just another potential victim, now she’s in the killers way and she won’t go down easy. In the beginning she just wanted to survive, but like Laurie Strode now she wants revenge. Which oc becomes the monsters monster?

WRONG PLACE, WRONG TIME We're exploring classic horror locations. Throw your ocs into a horror story that take place in these locations, or make up your own story.

Day Thirteen: Have Killer Fun At Summer Camp! (Location: Summer Camp)

It's Friday The Thirteenth... literally. For today, the location is a summer camp like the one Jason Voorhees terrorizes. Counselor, killer, or camper? Whatever role your oc plays, they certainly didn't read this in the brochure.

Day Fourteen: Vacation Nightmares (Location: Hotel/Island/AirBnB, etc.)

An island that magically speeds up your aging, a hotel with corridors that lead to nowhere, a psychotic airbnb host; Today is about horror in locations that are supposed to be a break from the horror of everyday life, but instead introduces you to whole new horrors.

Day Fifteen: Home Is Where The Haunt Is (Location: House or Apartment)

A home can be a place to make memories and some memories leave a scar. Focus on your characters when a place they call home is threatened.

Day Sixteen: She Doesn't Like It In The Barn (Location: Farm/Ranch)

Samara Morgan was forced to stay in the barn's hayloft to keep her burning images out of her adoptive parents minds. Framer Graham Hess had to defend his home and family from aliens that threatened to kill his son. Pearl craved to be a movie star and experienced a psychotic break where she killed those who denied her her dream. What deadly passages does the farm bestow to your characters?

Day Seventeen: Death is a Mystery and Burial is a Secret (Location: Cemetery or Tomb)

Cemeteries and tombs are the places we put our loved ones to rest, but in horror movies we find that final resting places are not so restful after all. Whether it’s ghosts, zombies, psychotic gravekeepers, or grave robbers ensuring no witnesses; how do your ocs go from mourning to trying to survive until morning?

Day Eighteen: What's The Opposite Of Miracles? (Location: Places of Worship)

Places of worship are supposed to be places of good, where people go for guidance and safety, places full of good beings and devoid of sin. But what if the bad beings sneak in or the sinless place is just a hiding place for those full of sin?

Day Nineteen: This Won't Hurt A Bit (Location: Hospital and/or Asylum)

In season two of American Horror Story, we were welcomed to Briarcliff, an asylum that became ‘home’ to the misunderstood and the criminally insane. Much like other hospitals of the past, many attempts of healing were there to disguise the evil hiding in plain sight. How does your character deal when the place that was supposed to heal them becomes the place that harms them?

Day Twenty: The Trees Have Eyes (Location: The Woods/Forest)

Shadows of the trees cast illusions, the cracking of sticks cause hairs on the back of your neck stand. The wind howls which sounds of a voice, and the birds no longer sing. The woods are creepy, desolate, and you find yourself lost in the sea of their trunks. What happens when your ocs are stuck in the woods?

RANDOM OUTLIER

Day Twenty-One: I Want To Play A Game

Some of the most recent hits in horror history have been not movies, books, or shows, but video games. From Dead By Daylight to Until Dawn, horror fans have been able to experience immersion at a whole new level by trying to make all the right choices as a character. Now, it's time to put your oc into a horror game AU. Will they live, or will they die? Only their stats and choices will tell.

STRANGER THINGS HAVE HAPPENED (22nd–27th) Character tropes are fun and all, but for the next six days we're focusing on genre tropes.

Day Twenty-Two: Solitude Causes More Wounds Than It Was Meant To Heal (Trope: Isolation)

Fear is increased when one is alone by themselves, or cut off from civilization like an reclusive island. Focus on your characters in the horror of isolation; are they forced to recognize who they truly are on the inside? Do they practice the law of nature or nurture? Do they keep their morals or own laws?

Day Twenty-Three: The Apocalypse Is The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me (Trope: Apocalyptic)

Just as everything must begin, it also must end. This, unfortunately, includes humanity. What will happen when the world as your oc knows it ends, when that world goes from millions of people to tens or perhaps even one? Will they be forced to adapt, doomed to die, or perhaps even thrive?

Day Twenty-Four: You've Killed Me Before (Trope: Time Loop)

The best thing about the sun setting is that it will come up again in the morning, and a new day will begin. But what if the sun comes up and an old day begins? Whether your oc must solve their own murder, solve somebody else’s murder, or face difficult truths about those around them, it’s time to put them into a time loop.

Day Twenty-Five: Better You Die Than I (Trope: Doppleganger)

In real life, seeing your “doppleganger” is said to be an omen of misfortune or good luck. In horror movies, dopplegangers usually take a more direct approach in ruining the lives of their lookalike. Whether they’re an omen of bad things to come or trying to steal ones life, give your oc a doppleganger and explore the horrors of a stranger that shares your face.

Day Twenty-Six: No Wonder Everyone Keeps Invading You (Trope: Extraterrestrial)

Whether your oc was a believer before or not, life from another planet has arrived to Earth on this day. These so-called aliens come in all shapes, sizes, and colors; They can even come in a human disguise, as a deadly plant, as a machine, or even as little green men. No matter where they came from or what they look like, humanity is not ready for them. Whether we try to hurt them or they try to hurt us, how does your oc deal with extraterrestrial life on Earth and the problems this arrival presents?

Day Twenty-Seven: All Politics Is A Personality Cult Now (Trope: Cult)

What simply starts as a simple dinner meal, a visit to a secluded area where people celebrate, or deciding to reunite with the estranged side of your family, can easily be your steps toward a cult. Have your characters fight to stay alive against those who have welcomed them with sinister intent.

COSTUMES TELL A STORY

Day Twenty-Eight: Let's Be Weird Together

We all know of an iconic squad that so many people are just dying to be a part of. Well, it’s your ocs and their friends chance! Day 28 is group costumes!

Day Twenty-Nine: That Could Be Us

Love isn’t in the air but maybe it’s in the fabric of costumes! It’s time for couples costumes!

Day Thirty: I Can Be Anybody I Wanna Be

If your oc could be anybody, who would they wanna be? Well, for one night only, they can be! It's time for your oc to dress up!

TRICK OR TREAT!

Day Thirty-One: I'm Just Here For The Boos

Halloween is a time for tricks and treats, for ghost to walk among the living and us to disguise ourselves. But it can be killer, and the transference of evil can be achieved. Give your shape to another, gift them and you shall receive in turn. Ocpotluck awaits.

[alianarepasa]

Little Toy Prince: Chapter 2

Summary: After bringing in a wooden Christmas toy Nutcracker, which for some reason, looks like his ex-rival, SMG3 woke up from a noise in the upper floor of his cafe. Little did he know, he will be experiencing the classic Christmas story, without any knowledge of its story.

Tags: Inspired by Barbie in the Nutcracker, Nutcracker Story

Note: Thanks to @shygirl4991 for being my proof-reader for chapter 2! And of course, fixing a lot of my writings to make it more sense mate!

Then midnight finally hits. Everything is peacefully quiet, everyone asleep in their own beds. At least, that was the case until the night was interrupted by the sounds at 3’s Coffee and Bombs. A sound of scratching and squeaking, a person breaking into the Cafe, without causing any damage on the inside.

Meanwhile Three and Eggdog are still sleeping through the night, until Eggdog hears the noise. He tried to wake his dad up by nudging him a bit, but still the man slept away, the sounds from upstairs started to get louder giving Eggdog no choice but to bark loudly, finally waking Three up. Three of course is not happy with it as he asked his son, slightly irritated. “Eggdog! What did I say about-” as he was silently going to say something, the noise got even louder than before. Three and Eggdog looked up as they heard the sounds. “The hell?!” he said in confusion. He thought to himself, he never expected that noise from the upper floor of his Cafe, unless it’s either a robbery or… those vermins… If it’s the latter, it seems like the pest is back. He jumps off his bed and carries Eggdog as he goes up the elevator to check things out.

As he and Eggdog went out of the elevator, he silently walked to the door, and sneakily peeks through it. As he expected, it's those rats, except they brought a visitor it was none other than Depresso or at least he thinks that's him, for some reason he is wearing some kind of  tyrant fantasy-like outfit as if he is the king of rats which fits his title but not the outfit. His eyes narrowed, annoyed that it was that clown, though he looked at the counter and noticed that the wooden doll was gone! Did that loser and his vermin followers do something to it? As he thought about it, one of his rats went inside and started to look at him, which caused Three to scream in a high pitch almost slipping, as he held Eggdog tightly, with his pet starting to bark loudly. The rat however instantly left running, but this doesn’t end well as once it starts running to “Depresso”, it gets picked up by  him and starts to whisper his ear. SMG3 and Eggdog know that they’re screwed.

“Oh? there’s a person and a dog here you say?” Depresso said in a horrifying tyrannical tone, as if he finally got himself a stupid villain arc, which for Three is clearly laughable. However, he heard something from that clown as if he was giving orders to his servants. “My army! Go and bring them to me, Or at least… try asking them nicely to show themselves to me…” the clown commanded his army. Three meanwhile heard everything as he backed away, shaking at the fact that this pathetic clown just ordered his rat army to bring him in. He could feel panic rise from it.

“Ahh fuck! He’s bringing them in! Is there anything here to fight them back?” Three quivered as he asked his egg son a way to fight back, sure he could just use the bombs, but it will cause a bit of a mess in the Cafe. Eggdog looks around the area and instantly jumps off on his dad’s arm and lands on a box. He jumps on it showing his dad that he could try to look through it and find something in it, Three instantly agrees and rushes through it and sees what item he could use to fight off the vermin.

While Three was doing that, the rats immediately went inside the room. Three noticed, his eyes widened as he shakes even more tryings to get something to defend himself, Eggdog immediately tries to defend his dad from those rats by aggressively barking at them, causing most of them to back off. Eggdog may not be a feline and just an egg-shaped dog but he wont let that stop him from protecting his father, a few of the rats not caring for the aggression start to walk towards him . Thankfully the moment they were starting to close in, Three found some utensils and immediately threw some at them. One gets close to being hit by a fork as Three gets a hold of something, he pulls out peppermint spray “Aha!” calling Eggdog over the pup climbs and gets on his back. Knowing the spray isn't safe for dogs he made sure to cover his son's snout with a mask, once he knew the pup was safe he immediately shook the container and sprayed at the rats. They start to back up from the strong scent of peppermint then begin to run out of the room. Three and Eggdog let out a sigh of relief knowing they were temporarily safe, Eggdog hops into his fathers arm to be carried as they leave the room. The moment they step out of the room they see Depresso right in front of them. 

“Alright Depresso, why did you break into my Cafe?” SMG3 asked in an angry tone. “And what in the hell are you even wearing?! You look stupid to be in a fancy tyrannical-looking ass outfit when you're just a stupid clown!” He added as he insulted “Depresso” even more. The clown cackled menacingly at Three’s response, which is not what he expected from the person who can talk to the rats himself. He feels a bit on edge about it, but doesn’t want to lower his guard down. After that, the clown finally responded. “Ah… is this how you respond to royalty?” he said in a monotonous voice as if he was trying to intimidate. “As someone who has ruled a realm filled with dead memes? Heh, I doubt you’re even  royalty.” Three talks back at the clown with sass. “Talking back to me eh? Well then…” He grabbed and held some kind of powder. “I'd like to see you try saying that again with this!” Before Three could say anything, “Depresso” blew the powder right at his and his egg son’s face with no problem,as if it was instantaneous. They coughed at the fact the clown just did that.

“Ugh! What was that for-” As SMG3 was about to say something else, he opened his eyes and noticed how it got a bit foggy. He felt confused, how could a simple blowing of a powder right into his face just become a fog? He however noticed that his surroundings felt a bit… bigger? As if the side corner of the Cafe has spaced out. As the fog started to clear things out, he started to look around at his own surroundings as it got much bigger. His eyes go wide at a realization. He and Eggdog got shrunk down somewhere close into the size of a figurine doll. He looks up at the clown horrified as he says something with a steady, yet scary eye contact to Three. “You were saying?” He grinned at the fact the one who talked back to him has gotten smaller. Three nervously laughed and tried to walk back slowly. “Heh, well then! Imma l-let you go back to… w-whatever you were doing! Now excuse me, I-I must go back to my lai-AHH!!” As he turns around ready to make a  run for it holding Eggdog tightly, the rats that he sprayed block the path standing right up like a guard. Three backed away slowly as he also felt Eggdog in his arms shaking in fear, until both of them were cornered. They are both fucked. 

As the two felt like there was nowhere to run, a mysterious figure rushes through one of the clown rats and carries Three in its arm bridal style, then it jumps on the rats head as if it was doing parkour and goes hiding in the corner where the clown wont see them. It happened so instantaneous Three couldn't figure out who just carried him and Eggdog to safety from the rats since he closed his eyes. Three slowly opened his eyes and looked up seeing the person that carried him away, he got a bit of a glimpse on the person's face “...SMG4?” he said in confusion. The person look’s down causing Three’s eyes to widen as their eyes meet, his eyes aren't ordinary as they were those dotted pupil like doll eyes. The eyes had no sign of emotion almost as if this person is the wooden doll, the nutcracker that he fixed earlier. The Nutcracker places Three down safely on the floor helping him stand “You alright?” he asked, making sure the person that fixed him was okay, Three blushed angrily and looked away from him . Seeing that the Nutcracker shrugged “Imma take that as a yes.” 

The Nutcracker then takes a peek to see if the rats and its leader is about to follow them, meanwhile Three stares at the Nutcracker with a confused yet curious look. Something about this scenario felt familiar and yet at the same time not. He was a bit curious on what in the hell that wooden doll was even doing. So he sneakily walked up and asked him. “Uhh, what are you doing?” He said in a quiet yet curious-confused tone. “Just looking if the Rat king’s army has followed us yet” The Nutcracker responded. “Wait, you mean Depresso right?” The Nutcracker looks back at Three. “Is that his nickname you gave him? Wow, sounds fitting for a tyrant not gonna lie” Nutcracker then cackled silently finding it amusing, but for Three, he got a bit confused on what the wooden doll said to him. “Wait, a nickname?! Does he actually have a different name?!” SMG3 asked quietly. “Oh no, his name is just Rat king.” Nutcracker answered. “He used to have a different name, but it ain’t that important.” He then turned his head back looking out on those vermin armies. 

“Rat king…” Three trailed off silently hearing that name. The name caused him to remember that SMG4 blabbed about that Christmas story that he never heard about before which also includes about the Nutcracker and the Rat king, with some story adaptation about the heroine getting shrunk down into a small size. Wait! Rat king… Shrunk down… The Nutcracker… oh no… Three realized what's going on right now. He’s THAT heroine. He’s basically Clare, or Marie, or whatever that girl’s name is! All he can think about is he is experiencing a Christmas story, with himself playing a role as that heroine… He wants to know if this a nightmare or a reality because he didn't ask for this to happen! As Three stands there lost in thought, Eggdog barks at him as if he is asking if his dad is okay. Three didn’t realize that he was slightly sweating right now, shaken even, but he is still stuck in his own mind, causing Eggdog to continually barking concernedly. The Nutcracker then turns his back as he starts to notice that Three is a little freaked out. He was about to ask if he’s okay, but was then interrupted by a loud shout of the Rat king.

“YOU STUPID PIECES OF WOOD!!” Rat king yelled, in which Three finally snapped out of his  own thoughts. “EVEN AFTER YOU HAVE BEEN THROWN AWAY AS A WOODEN HUSK, YOU STILL CAME BACK ALIVE?!” 

“Well clearly you didn’t know that even after I was turned to this, I am still much alive!” The Nutcracker replied back with a sass. “It just needed some time to get myself to move again with this form you cursed upon me with your “desperate” dust!” This angered the Rat King more as he started to stomp his foot down from frustration. “GUARDS! AFTER HIM! BREAK HIM INTO LITTLE PIECES IF YOU ALL HAVE TOO!” He ordered his guards. “And while you’re at it, GO CATCH THAT BEARD MAN AND HIS WEIRD SHAPED MUTT!” With all of the guards in full force trying to capture them. The Nutcracker then grabs Three’s hand and makes a run for it. “Well! Time for me to find you guys a better hiding place!” 

“W-wa-wait-aaAAH-!” Three then gets dragged by his ex-rival wooden look-alike, trying to catch up to him while also trying to escape the Rat King’s guard. 

Three still couldn’t comprehend the situation he is stuck in, there was no goddamn way to get back to his own secret sanctuary. And what did the wooden doll mean “desperate dust”? Is that the one the Rat king blew at his and Eggdog’s face that got them shrunk?  Did he actually silently wish for that because he is deep down pissed at his sass? Either way, his own thought was once again stopped as the wooden doll found the hiding spot for him and his egg son. Nutcracker then unhand Three’s hand and tells them the order. “You stay right here alright? I’m going to deal with this business of mine.” And without a chance for Three to speak up, The Nutcracker ran off. Three then silently stood there, frustratedly flustered at the wooden doll.

Nutcracker runs as he tries to face the rodent-clown tyrant himself. He climbed onto a  counter, and instantly hid in the giant coffee machine. He looks around a bit making sure that those vermin guards didn’t follow him, which thankfully they didn’t. Unfortunately however, what he did not expect was that the Rat king is right behind him. “Hiding somewhere?” The Nutcracker jumped a bit as he heard the king’s voice. What he did not expect is that he seems to have shrunk himself to his actual height, no longer the height of a giant. Seems like he only did it so he could have a possible rematch The Nutcracker thought to himself, which he could lose as he has no weapon to defend himself. He backed away slowly as the Rat King approached him slowly. He looks around and sees a purple yet funny looking dagger, as he instantly snatches it and points at the tyrant. The Rat King laughs at what The Nutcracker points at him, as he is mocking at him.

“You really think you could fight me with that?!” “I may as well try” he responded. “I am not letting myself lose to you again.” The Nutcracker starts his first move by trying to stab The Rat King, but he brings out his sword and instantly deflects the wooden doll’s attack. The tyrant then made his next move by trying to hastily slice the doll, only for him to deflect the move as well. The clown still continues swinging his sword to his opponent, as he tries doing that the wooden doll keeps deflecting its move as he tries to defend himself. However, deflecting with a supposed dagger will not last long as the wooden toy feels that he’s gonna lose this battle.

Meanwhile, SMG3 watches that battle not so far off from his hiding spot. Even though it's not exactly his ex-rival, he can feel that the wooden doll is having trouble fighting back the clown-tyrant. He exasperatedly sighed as he felt there was no other choice, there's a high chance that the giant rat army would catch him on sight if he just stay in his spot for too long, but he doesn’t know what to do to even help that doll until he heard the bark from Eggdog. He silently went up to his egg son, and asked silently “What is it boy? What did you find?” His egg son runs and points at what seems to be a giant hole gap. He followed Eggdog to go through it. The other side of it is the backroom, except much larger. Three looks around the area a bit while still following his meme son. He then heard the bark again as Eggdog seemed to found something. What he and his egg son found is a large size of supplies of different kinds of powder, mainly for bombs, with some coffee powder in there. Three is however confused. Why did his meme son even bring him here? Did Eggdog just wanna show him how much bigger the area and the items are? Because yea, he already knows about it terrifyingly enough. However, that is not what Eggdog wanted for Three to see as he pointed at what seemed to be a bag that had a small ripped on it, causing a bit of powder to fall out of it.

Three then looks at the somewhat small pile of powder and takes a closer look at it. It seems that the powder he was seeing is a mixture of explosive and sleeping powder, still confused, he looked at his meme son. Eggdog then slightly runs into the area where there is presumably plastic and leftover string, as his dad stares at him, thankfully Three got it after a bit of analyzing. SMG3 then kneels down, and pet his meme son on his head with his empty hand to compliment him. “Good idea Eggdog! This might do the trick!” Eggdog replies back with an affectionate bark, as his way to say “you’re welcome dad!”.

Back at the top of the counter, The Rat King may have won the sword-dagger duel with The Nutcracker as he is now cornered. He pointedly directs the sword to the wooden toy, and laughs menacingly. “You fought well for a wooden husk, but I think it’s time for me to end you for real…” He ready his sword as he was about to swing it to his wooden opponent. “Any last word… Sweet Prince?” As The Nutcracker was to say anything, both of them got interrupted with a shouted voice. “OI CLOWN FACE!” The Rat King turns around looking angrily offended as it was revealed to be SMG3 who calls for him, with Eggdog right beside him. Three then throws something at him. “HOPE YOU LIKE HAVING A MIDNIGHT SNACK!” It hit right into the clown-tyrant’s face, he caught it and stared confused from what seemed to be a giant crumb of cheese. The Rat King released a “HA!” in a mocking manner.

“What are you gonna make me do with this? Eat it and poison me to death?!” The Rat King replied in a mocking tone at Three. Three then confidently respond as he knows what’s going to happen next. “Wanna bet?” Three points at the “cheese” he threw at the clown, in which then The Rat King felt it shaking in his hand. His eyes widen as it explodes into his face, with the sleeping powder forming into a powdered cloud. The clown-tyrant coughed until his face fell slammed into the ground. The Nutcracker was surprised at what just happened as he slowly stood up, and took his “dagger”. As The Nutcracker stands, the rat army went up into the counter. Three instantly carried his egg son and were about to make a run for it, as he thought he’s going to get captured from them, only for the vermin avoided him and instantly carried their fallen king, and his sword away from the counter. The rat army instantly jumps off the counter and went into a mouse hole, presumably where they may have entered the Cafe. With that, The Rat King and his army has left.

The Nutcracker then walks up to Three, and tells him with an amazed tone. “I must say, for someone who I assumed to look helpless, I am amazed that you actually-” Three instantly pointed at The Nutcracker’s wooden head with his free hand, as he interrupted  his compliment, looking a bit frustratedly tired. “Hold your wooden animatronic mouth shut, and tell me “SMG4”, what the HELL is going on, and TELL ME IF I AM JUST DREAMING!?” Three raises his voice in an angry tone as he tries to ask the wooden toy. The Nutcracker lowered SMG3’s hand and questioned him. “Woah there! Worried much? And who is this “SMG4”? Do you have anything against him?” 

“Yea, I ‘m against him for his stupidity,” Three replied to him in a dry tone before it went back to an angry sounding tone, with a hint of desperation “but can you please not change the subject… AND ANSWER MY PREVIOUS QUESTION!! AM I DREAMING, OR NOT?”

The wooden toy expression doesn’t seem to change, but it does have a hint of a concerned sounding tone, as if he doesn’t know if this is a dream or not. On one hand, he felt that this is reality, he can feel that this isn’t a dream, but on the other hand, with how bigger the size of what seems to be an area he doesn’t recognize, it felt more like a dream, or a nightmare even. He answered Three’s previous question with a gloomy sigh. “Look, for right now, this feels like I'm stuck in a dream, but at the same time, I feel like that it’s not. Hope this answered your question sir.”

Hearing that answer made Three feel a bit more frustrated as he facepalm. The situation he is in feels like a dream but due to how many wacky adventures he put himself through  with the others, it felt like reality. He then slowly removed his hand on his face, and asked another question to The Nutcracker, looking desperately tired. “Can you at least cast some kind of spell to get me and Eggdog back into our original height?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that as what the Rat King used is irreversible to the others. The “powder” he uses is mainly based on the user’s… let’s just say wishes.” The Nutcracker explains with uncertainty in his answer. 

Three sighed as he lowered himself down, with Eggdog trying to comfort his dad. Three has given up, he accepted that he ain’t going to get back to his original height, knowing that by morning the crew will see his current size, and possibly laugh at him for it including his ex-rival. The Nutcracker meanwhile looks at him sadden behind the expressionless wooden face. Seeing someone who he saved, the person that saved him from getting beaten by the clown tyrant in this condition made him feel bad, suddenly he remembered something and had an idea as he instantly asked the person. “Why don’t you come with me to my journey then?” SMG3 lifted his head tilted, and looked at him confused.

“You see, the form that I am in isn’t even my actual form. I… needed to find a way to pretty much get myself back to normal, and the only to do that is find the Sugarplum Fairy. The originator of that dust that the Rat King put a spell on you with.” The Nutcracker explained. After hearing that explanation, Three slowly stood back up and questioned in cynicism to the wooden doll. “And how can you be so sure that is the way to… undo these curses that the clown-face put us in?” 

“Well, according to some research before I got cursed, legend says that although you can’t really wish yourself back to your original look as it is the person who uses that dust is desired wish, the Sugarplum Fairy can undo that person’s wishes. At least, I hope that is what I can remember from it.” The Nutcracker responded with confidence to his answer, still a bit unsure if that’s what he remembered. Three feels a bit skeptical with that answer, but does he even have a choice he thought? 

Sure that sounded bullshit of a answer for a way to turn back to his original size, but knowing that he is looking at a wooden soldier doll version of his doppelganger, and he is experiencing a Christmas story that Four told him a bit about, it safe to say that really is the only option he has. Three sighed and looked away from the doll. “Fine… I may as well join your stupid mission…” 

“Oh! Then that settled it then!” The Nutcracker said in an excited cheery tone. He then looks down on Eggdog and asks somewhat the same question previously to Three “What about you? Wanna join with your owner?” Eggdog replied with an excited bark as he is at least going on a journey with his dad at least, which made Three smile a bit that he has at least a familiar companion with him. With that, Eggdog instantly went to his dad, and got carried back into Three’s arm. 

The Nutcracker then started to walk, which Three then followed. The wooden doll looks back at Three, then asks something to him as he holds his funny looking dagger. “Oh uhh, you wouldn’t mind if I used this dagger? It’s a bit funny looking but it is useful nevertheless!” Three looked at the “dagger”, and immediately answered to the wooden toy with a flat tone “That’s a push pin.” “Oh.” The Nutcracker looks back at the push pin and back at Three “Well at least it is strong enough as a dagger! I wonder if I could turn this into a sword though” SMG3 rolled his eyes as The Nutcracker said that. He and the Nutcracker then stopped and looked down as it's a long way down. The Nutcracker then jumps down the counter, with SMG3 trying to follow while holding Eggdog tightly for safety, but as Three landed into a floor, he somewhat lost a bit of his balance, about to slip, he was then stopped by the wooden doll, getting his balance back from it. It did however make Three blushed. The Nutcracker didn’t notice it, as he looked at the mouse hole. “There it is.”

The Nutcracker then let Three go, and started to walk, about to go in the hole. He then looks back at Three. “Well… should we press on?” Three then nodded, with that the wooden toy went inside. SMG3 then follows him. He pauses for a moment, and looks back at the Cafe. Three knows himself that he and his egg son will come back to their home, but right now, they need to undo what The Rat King’s curses on them. With that, Three went inside the mouse hole and continued to follow The Nutcracker.

[firewalkzwit]

runt // jonathan crane x reader. (30)

Chapter 30.

cross-posted on AO3

masterlist.

Y/N hadn't attended Arkham in what had felt like months, but had only been three days. Bruce had left messages, but the only reason she'd reached out to her phone was to disconnect it, for she no longer wished to hear his grating voice plea to see her to amend a mistake he couldn't even identify. Her mind could only process one thought and it surrounded something as mundane as what she'd wear. For all she knew, it could be the clothes she died on, and even if she didn't, whatever awaited her after Armageddon was uncertain and prompted very deadly either way. She had grown very soft, and the determination that had come with a fresh loss wasn't as vibrant as it used to. Even though she had assumed that the emotional tolls that her decision would cost her were something she was willing to tolerate, she was naively ignorant of how much that would affect her performance. Naturally, she'd dug her nails into her palm as she clenched her jaw in some sort of mild physical punishment for the mistakes of her past self. Curled in bed, she had not thought of Jonathan for the entirety of the day.

The knock on her door had snapped her out of her distraught, rapidly shifting her once independent attention to the thought of Crane. Immediately her mind was invaded by gloom, the mere thought of him caused her an anxiety so intense her chest weighed on her. As she approached to open the door, her eye peering through the peephole perceived a much taller male on the other side. Crane could never acquire such shoulders no matter how much he used suits to disguise his smaller frame. The man on the other side had to be over six feet, which explained why the poorly placed spyhole could hardly allow her to see a blur of a face terribly deformed by the curved glass, especially under the strange disguise of sunglasses and cap he wore like a celebrity.

"Who is it?" A nervous voice emerged from her throat instead of her usual self.

"It's Bruce." Of course it was. She hesitated whether she'd open the door or not, permeated by a sensation of alarm that inspired no confidence in her hand which approached the chain lock. A man the size of Bruce could easily tackle the door and its little symbolic lock down like a car butts a transit cone. Although she couldn't picture someone with Bruce's personality ever doing that, she knew if he ever felt the need he could manhandle her little door and body like a dollhouse with its Barbie. The thought of it terrified her, and she struggled to open the door.

"What are you doing in this neighbourhood?"

"I needed to see you." Y/N finally thought it to be reasonable to let him in, it was after all a threat for him to be on his own in Park Row. As she opened the door, her hand placed on his back to gently rush him inside as she looked to the sides, making sure no one had seen him.

"What was so urgent that you had to come here? You didn't get your butler to drive you, did you?"

"I took a cab." Her chin rested on her hand as her arms hugged her chest, biting on her nail as she shook her head in anxiety. "I needed to see if you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Look, I won't bring it up again, but I didn't know if you'd be okay with... him." Immediately she rolled her eyes. While not being under the influence allowed the aggressive burst of emotions that ignited her lungs, the only thing that differed from her previous outburst was merely her self-control.

"Yes I'm fine." The desire to thank him for his preoccupation crept through but didn't manage to get past her mouth, as her pride contained the urge to feel gratification for such a minuscule display of empathy; Crane was really starting to grow on her.

"That's good." By the look of his expression he seemed to want to say more, yet he kept to himself as his feint of speaking was halted in the middle of lifting his eyebrows to mutter another pair of words.

"That's all? I don't mean to kick you out like this but I have to run some errands." Lies after lies, she couldn't be straightforward about how little she wanted to see people at that very moment, although she urged him to be quick to spit whatever he was biting in.

"You're not safe here." She scoffed immediately. "I could accommodate you in a residency for a couple of days." Her head looked away following her rolled eyes, biting her lip in disbelief. Bruce's hesitant approach to her was rapidly interrupted by his own usual faltering. He knew her body language exuded an enormous tentativeness to reject his offer, but he knew the lack of an immediate no presented consideration beyond the offence taken. "Something bad might happen."

Her head turned abruptly, the petty smile in her face rapidly replaced with a perturbed grimace. Her heart sank with anxiety at the idea of Bruce even sensing what was about to come. For all she knew he could be partners with Falcone and know about what was happening; about her. She had no guarantees his philanthropy wasn't a façade, and she was rapidly taken aback by his words. Her mind had no space to dwell on the obviousness of her expression, only panic and hope her wide inquisitive eyes would give away how desperate she was for further explanations. But he refrained to speak, instead assuming the frown in her dead expression was only a reprimand for his insinuations.

promised and delivered lol. this chapter is very crying lightning by arctic monkeys

[sublimecatgalaxy]

♥️ Steve Harrington Masterlist ♥️

This is a masterlist dedicated to things I've written about Steve Harrington.

Check out my Prompt List and my Character List in my Masterpost which is pinned for more info on who I write for and some inspiration for requests.

Lovebirds: 

Summary/Request: “Reader going after steve after he falls into the watergate and confessing their feelings for him after they find him :’)”

Cheer:

Summary/Request: “Could you do something with Steve harrington x cheerleader!reader we’re he comes to her game to watch her perform and it’s all cute and fluffy!!!”

Favorite Song: 

Summary/Request: “I was thinking like maybe the reader is adamant on stopping by her house so she can go through her cassette tapes and make sure she knows both his and her favorite song and he realizes why and he comforts her?!?!”

Middle Child: 

Summary/Request: “Can we get something longer about Steve Harrington x reader but the reader is the “middle child” in the Wheeler family. Like she’s a year younger or so than Steve and Nancy but older than mike.”

Take A Break:

Summary/Request: "steve eating reader out slowly and sensually goodbye I'm going feral"

Sick Joke:

Summary/Request: "reader finally gets the courage to ask steve out but the only time she can is at lunch in front of his popular friends and they make fun of her and steve says some nasty shit reader is heartbroken but steve actually wanted to say yes"

Unrequited:

Summary/Request: "Hi could you write Steve x Harrington x Fem reader where they’re best friends and she’s in love with him and she thinks it’s unrequited because she thinks he likes Robin instead and it’s a whole lot of miscommunication but it ends with a happy ending? :)"

Let Go:

Summary/Request: "Could you do the scene were Eddie is walking with Steve in the upside down and Eddie brings up how reader went in right after Steve got pulled just like the nancy scene and that’s when Steve realizes he’s inlove. If not totally fine, love your work !!"

I've Been Here:

Summary/Request: "Hi! Can I request a Steve Harrington x reader fic based on “The King” by Conan Gray?"

Fighting For Your Hand: Part 2

Summary/Request: "Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson fighting for the readers attention and love, possibly with two different endings for each?"

Do What You Want To Me:

Summary/Request: "car sex with steve?"

Marked:

Summary/Request: "could you do steve harrington with a s/o that has a birthmark on their face? I have one on my right cheek and I was always insecure about it, i’ve grown to love it but sometimes you need that reassurance. So could you do one of him kinda comforting his s/o?"

Prepared:

Summary/Request: "okay i think we all agree that eddie cumming too fast is hot, but what abt steve cumming too fast??? mouth is salivating."

Picasso:

Summary/Request: "heyy omg🤭 could u do something abt steve leaving hickeys all over your chest n shit and the kids see them😭 i think they would be really funny abt it"

Cosmo:

Summary/Request: "The idea of Eddie or Steve laying in the readers lap while they hold a book in one hand, reading it, and the other hand is playing with their hair, with music blasting in the background, that's all I have to say"

Selfish Motives:

Summary/Request: "hi i was wondering if you could do something with steve harrington x gender neutral reader and sharing a bed for the first time? maybe the ‘there’s only one bed’ trope? either way, i’d just love to share a bed with him :) thank u!"

Scars:

Summary/Request: "Hi could you write a steve x fem reader where she has acne and scars and Steve is the best boyfriend ever by reassuring her how beautiful she is"

Often:

Summary/Request: "Okay but what if Steve and reader smoked and had rough sex while high🫠😶"

Barbie Doll:

Summary/Request: "Could i request sort of Steve x fem reader where reader is like Eddie and perhaps they’re good friends? Thank u ☺️"

Tipped:

Summary/Request: "Can I request a Steve harrington imagine, where him & reader (they are dating) they both work at scoops and some guy is flirting with reader is Steve gets really jealous and protective?"

Birthday:

Summary/Request: "Could I get either Billy Hargrove or Steve harrington imagine. Where it’s the readers birthday and the reader feels sad on her birthday and Billy or Steve throw a small party for them or something like that"

Can't Stand You:

Summary/Request: "Prompt: I've never wanted to fuck anyone this badly before."

Babygirl:

Summary/Request: "Calling Steve Harrington "babygirl" as a joke💕"

Hickey:

Summary/Request: "Steve Harrington giving you a hickey👀"

[mrssimply]

Hihihi! So... you wanted to write alpha/beta/omega with Santino and John?

Hey, if you ever do that, imma be the first one in line to read it :)

Like... if you ever do... let me know :]

Ah, the ABO fic. Fics even.

I always wanted to write an ABO fic, because it's a trope that I love. I find it hot, and really damn interesting, I read a lot of great fics in that universe, including the brilliant Magic that You Do, written by my friend Koda (I mean, I didn't even play the game and I loved the story, that should tell you something).

But then, the thought police and other affiliated "holy warriors" that can be found on the internet and fandom spaces spoke about omegaverse in a way that started to make me feel weird for liking it. It's what they do, unfortunately, often under very good pretenses, a very nice rethoric and super friendly smileys.

So for years, when people said it was weird to like ABO, because the non-con undertones are problematic, because the mpreg found on those fics is gross, because it has the worst kind of porn, because the trope demeans both women and men and everyone in between, I just awkwardly laughed and said nothing. I went away to lick my wounds in private, and wonder if I even had my place in the Court of Miracles that is fandom space in general.

But this year, I've decided to be brave.

This the year I'm going against a big dragon: my inner censor. It's a quest that demands that I let go of many conceptions I have about myself, fandom space, what it's like to be a "respectable fanfic author" and if I even want to be one.

But that wasn't your question xD.

It's just to contextualize the importance of this challenge I'm considering for myself. Also to speak out about what I like and affirm that I won't cut myself from the things that bring me joy just because some people decided to ruin it instead of walking away.

ANYWAY.

So at first I wanted to write Omega!Santino and Alpha!John, because I love the dynamic of the Omega being in control of the big bad Alpha thanks to pheromones and other shenanigans. Also, I told myself "to hell with trying to be original, just write whatever pleases you" and I wanted Omega!Santino, bear with me (I realize I'm totally trying to justify myself, as I said, the inner censor is strong, it's my dragon of the year). And I'll do Mpreg with that because that's one thing about me: once I'm decided, I go all in.

Then, I talked to Koda, who actually helped without knowing just by the fact he wrote one himself (quoted earlier). And I tentatively said I wanted to do mpreg for that fic on top of the ABO and he said "impregnate that man!" (talking about John, of course) and then we had a great talk about how we all kinda want to see John heavily pregnant and then, it happened that Koda sort of had an idea, and dumped it on my lap saying he wouldn't write it. So... I'm most probably writing it.

So there will be two ABO fics with mpreg both. Though I must unfortunately say from the get go that only one fic will see the pregnancy to the end, because I would never pass an opportunity to be horrible to my barbie dolls, and to explore more trauma and themes (as I said, I'm an "all or nothing" kinda girl).

I generally try to work on only one project at once, or two (like, one big fic and smaller ones to unblock and unwind), so here is my List, in the order I plan to write the fics.

Your prompt (it's underway)

The burning of Rome (which, unfortunately, has caused me a lot of sadness lately by being particularly resistant, but we had a breakthrough yesterday so, there is hope)

If inspiration stike, I got one more prompt but it's for the Cyberpunk fandom and since my interest is very low at the moment, I don't know how that will go

The Omega!John/Alpha!Santino

The Omega!Santino/Alpha!John

How Green is my Valley (the Yellowstone inspired AU with horsies)

So yeah, don't wait on me for the ABO fics xD.

Also, I clearly remember saying I would only write one fic for the JW fandom. When I said that about the cyberpunk fandom I ended up wirting 50 so.................................................................................................

[bearlee-sensitive]

last updated . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .8/25/23

This my introduction post :)

Thank you to the amazing @slimeylee for letting me take inspiration from their intro post (I basically copied it, if you want me to take the @ off for you i will /gen)

Tw:ED mentions/ phobia mentions/SH mention

|info about me!|

My name is Bear

I'm 420 friendly

I'm Afro-indigenous

I'm 90% Lee 10% ler

I use he/him pronouns, I'm fine with neopronouns, and I'm two spirit, gay (nwlnw) and Polyamorous and I'm taken

I'm currently on testosterone

My birthday is October 26th! I'm a minor, so don't be weird

I'm also an age regressor, I usually regress to ages 1-3, sometimes older

|blog and writing info|

I'm a sfw Tickle blog, mainly for marvel, dream smp and supernatural

I don't really post fanfics as I'm still working on my writing skills, but once I think my writing is good enough I'll probably start writing fics

My dms are open to any ranging from 13 to 18+ (as long as you're not a creep)

( interact, thin ice, dni)

Interact;

Juggalo's

Dsmp fans

Twisted metal fans

Supernatural fans

Marvel fans

Stranger things fans

Reservation dogs fans

Kenan and Kel fans

Wonder egg priority fans

Sfw tickle blogs

Tickle fic writers

Artists

Fluff and angst writers

Roleplayers

People over 18 (as long as youre not weird)

Agere community

thin ice;

Genshin stans

Only writes/draws feet tickles

dni;

Proshippees

Racists

Homiphobes

Sexists

Ableists

Anyone under 11

Ddlg (and variants)

|tags|

I don't really use tags, but I will occasionally

The tags will be

#dsmp

#supernatural

#marvel

#tickle

#ticklefic

#twisted metal

#headcanons

#bears in a lee mood

#vent

|other blogs|

I only have two other blogs, one for age regression and one for non-Tickle stuff

Age regression blog: lovelylittlebabybearsblog

Non-tickle blog: skvll-body

|social media|

I have Instagram, my account is cool._.funky._.monkey

I also have snapchat and tiktok but I'll give those to you if you ask me

|things i will n wont write/talk about|

I WILL write/talk about

-Tickle related stuff

-fluff

-angst

-cc and c stuff

-feet tickles

-light bondage

-tools (but only stuff like feathers/feather duster, the light stuff)

|fears + diagnosis|

Tw:phobias and triggers

Phobias:

Arachnophobia-fear of spiders, I have had many bad experiences with spiders, especially night terrors, I can't handle anything related to spiders

Pediophobia-any doll except reborn dolls or barbie dolls freak me out, I can't really explain it, they just do

Lepidopterophobia-fear of butterflies or moths, I have a bad fear of butterflies, when I was younger I saw that one spongebob episode

emetophobia-fear of vomiting, I hate the feeling of being nauseas and vomiting, that grew into a really bad fear of mine

Diagnosis

Type one diabetes-for those who don't know, type one diabetes is a chronic condition where the pancreas produces little to know insulin, I was diagnosed when I was 2 years old.

Ptsd- ptsd or post traumatic stress disorder is a disorder where the person has trouble with recovering from witnessing or experiencing a terrifying event. There are Triggers that can bring back the memory along with intense physical or emotional reactions

Anxiety- anxiety is a disorder that causes intense, excessive and persistent worry or fear about everyday situations.

ADHD- ADHD or attention deficit/hyperactive disorder is a chronic condition including attention difficulty, hyperactivity, and impulsiveness

ARFID- ARFID or avoidant restrictive food intake disorder is an eating disorder where people have picky eating habits and little interest in eating food, they eat a limited variety of preferred foods.

|mutuals|

If we're mutuals feel free to dm me! I'm always happy to talk to new people. If I don't reply right away I'm probably doing school or asleep

(if you want me to take you're name off my list or the @ then you can tell me!)

closer friends;

@fluffallamaful

@shroomies-world

@tiki-kiwiies

talk to a decent amount, would say we're good friends;

@slimeylee

@shroomies-world

dont often talk to but we (for some people; would probably) get along;

Internet family:

@the-gingerbread-lee (big sister)

|face|

I don't plan on posting my face on Tumblr at all, but if youre close enough to me I'll probably send pics of myself to you

|other boundaries|

I'm fine with terms like kiddo, handsome, and pretty. I'm also fine with shitass in a joking way.

If we're friends you can call me kiddo and if we're really really close you can call me baby, babe or darling in a platonic way.

Some nickanmes that bring back happy memories are Little one, young warrior and bear cub.

My favorite Nickname is Sleepy bear

|Extra|

I struggle with SH and sometimes to avoid relapsing I'll sleep, so if I don't respond for a while it's probably cause of that and not something you did. I also take mental health breaks from time to time, and some of them include just not talking to anyone at all

[justagalwhowrites]

Ugh, perfect Kit. Just perfect. You are such a trustworthy author. You always deliver and well.

I saw the other note about the happy or not ending. I appreciate your below the cut explanation and won’t say more as to not spoil for others. A follow up — do you have any idea when you expect to finish? Like a general month, even? I’ve said it before and couldn’t do it but I might hold a few chapters back to binge a little. You write fast as hell but with holidays etc coming up I know things might get busy.

Unrelated, I want to thank you for putting you work out there. I used to want to write and have never tried fan fiction but your work has intrigued me. I’m hesitant, but I might try it even just for me. You’re so warm and open and write with such authenticity and vulnerability — it’s inspiring! Thank you as always ❤️

AHHHHHH Bestie!!!!!

Thank you so much you are so sweet!!! I'm so glad you're enjoying my work, it means the world that you like what I've created (well, kind of created, Joel and Ellie and the universe aren't mine but you get it!) ❤️

As for a timeline, I imagine Yearling will wrap in December. I may take some downtime then (this is almost hilariously optimistic, I am so addicted to writing this stuff that I will not stop and I know this about myself and I should just accept it) but I am starting a new fic in November that will run beyond that point? So we'll see how all that shakes out!

I highly highly highly recommend writing, especially if it's just for you! It can be so cathartic to create something and so satisfying to bring characters you love to life in your own way. There is SO MUCH I've written that has been just for me (probably a million words, maybe more) and, even though it's never seen the light of day, it all means something to me. It either helped me through a hard time or gave me a creative outlet or even just let me play Barbies with the characters in my head. It's crazy to me that you find me inspiring (I'm just some woman sitting on her couch with a cup of coffee after writing press releases all day!) but I'm just so touched that you do!

If you do decide to write, I hope you find it wonderful and fulfilling! Thank you for being here and spending your time with me and these characters. Love you!!!

[jasminesgardens]

The Awards

Conclusion

Last year my best friend and I came together to cheer up our bed-ridden friend by throwing our own Oscar-esc ‘DnD Awards’, celebrating the last year of our campaigns and the adventures we had along the way. We did research into Oscar Categories, we cast votes and heavily debated who should win and finally, we presented over Skype and gave GIFs as trophies. Here’s the categories for your own.

The Categories:

Best Pinterest Board: Choose based for the aesthetic, the memes or the pure organisation of it all.

Best Spotify Playlist: Choose based on the energy it emits, the song choice or the pure chaos of it all.

Best Written Song: Did someone write an original song for a campaign? This is the category to show you see and appreciate their hard work because it is hard work. Trust me.

Dream Daddy Award: Who screams Daddy Energy the most?

Sorry Mummy Award: Who screams Mummy Energy the most?

Most Unpredictable Player: Which player kept you on your toes?

Best Slam Down: Which clap back had you thinking on it for weeks?

Best Way To Kill a Man: As it says in the name, best way a character has slain an enemy. 

Worst Way To Kill a Man: And the opposite, worst way a character has slain an enemy, or perhaps in their attempt to.  

Somehow Still Breathing: Which character is it a miracle that they are still alive in your campaign?

The Voice Actor: Who brings characters to life with just their voice?

Inspirational Speaker: Which character inspired you with their battle call or monologue?

Miracle Worker: Which character is performing miracles left, right and centre?

Chaos Cooker: Which character is creating chaos left, right and centre? 

Critical Failure: Which player rolled low consistently or rolled low when it counted?

Natural Twenty Out of Ten: Which player rolled high consistently or rolled high when it was needed? 

Most “I’m So Glad We Play DnD” Moment: Choose based on the energy of the table, what it meant to you or something you’re proud of.  

Most Cinematic Moment: Choose based on the visuals, what it meant to you or something that truly came to life in the moment.

Most Cartoon Moment: Choose based on the laughs, how you wish it could be animated or a moment so unbelievable but true.

Best NPC: Based on your own preference, who stood out?

Best Villain: What makes a great villain for you? Then reward them for it.

Best NPC Party Member: What makes a great ally for you? Then reward them for it.

Best Session: Choose based on the energy of the table, the story that was told that day or what it meant to you. 

Best Chapter/One-Shot/Campaign: I personally separate my campaigns into mini-chapters and we felt the award was more suited towards a chapter than an entire campaign, as each campaign means something different to everyone, but you are free to change that as you need. Choose based on the story told, the adventure you got to go on together or what it meant to you.

Conclusion:

Hoping everyone has had a wonderful year in their personal lives and through their characters, feel free to tell me which award you’d give and why and thank you so much for reading, my name is PrincessJasmineFliesAway on everything else and my credentials in DMing can be described as Wizarding World 2.0, Shifting into the Star Wars Sequels and Barbie Mermaida the Campaign. Goodbye.

[denimbex1986]

'Cillian Murphy has won the leading actor Bafta for the biopic Oppenheimer.

Accepting the trophy he said: "Oh boy, holy moly, thank you very, very much Bafta."

He paid tribute to "the most dynamic, kindest producer-director partnership in Hollywood: Chris Nolan and Emma Thomas, thank you for seeing something in me that I probably didn't see in myself."

The Cork native said to Nolan: "Thank for always pushing me and demanding excellence because that is what you deliver time and time again."

He also acknowledged his "fellow nominees and my Oppenhomies", adding: "I know it's a cliche to say, but I'm in awe of you."

He said J Robert Oppenheimer, known as the father of the atomic bomb, was a "colossally knotty character", adding: "We have a space to debate and interrogate and investigate that complexity and it's a privilege to be a part of this community with you all."

Christopher Nolan won the best director Bafta for Oppenheimer, his epic tale of how the nuclear bomb was created.

Before accepting the award from actor Hugh Grant, Nolan hugged his Irish star Murphy.

Nolan joked that his brother "beat him up here" by being in a chorus of a production 40 years ago.

He paid tribute to Murphy and added to those who backed the film: "Thank you for taking on something dark".

The director also acknowledged the efforts of nuclear disarmament organisations to bring peace.

Oppenheimer was also named best film at the ceremony, The award was presented by actor Michael J Fox, who was greeted with a standing ovation as he came on stage in a wheelchair but stood at the podium.

Collecting the prize, producer Emma Thomas said: "This is not at all what I imagined when I was sitting at UCL film society with Chris dreaming about making films for a living."

Paying tribute to her husband, the film's director Christopher Nolan, Thomas said: "He is inspired and inspiring, he is brilliant, often infuriating, he is always right.

She also gave a shout-out to their 16-year-old son Magnus, who she said was "looking at me with daggers in his eyes", adding: "Your dad and I are the luckiest people in the world but our greatest fortune is being parents to you, Flora, Oliver and Rory."

Murphy’s co-star Robert Downey Jr won the best supporting actor prize for his role as Lewis Strauss, head of the Atomic Energy Commission.

Collecting the trophy, the Iron Man star paid tribute to Nolan, saying: “Recently that dude suggested I attempt an understated approach as a last ditch effort to resurrect my dwindling credibility.”

He said he owes the award to Nolan, producer Emma Thomas and star Cillian Murphy, as well as “British influence”.

Oppenheimer also won the Baftas for best cinematography and editing.

Murphy faced competition from fellow Irish man Barry Keoghan, who took on the role of a student at Oxford in high-society thriller Saltburn, and Canadian actor Ryan Gosling for blockbuster success Barbie.

Paul Mescal was also nominated for Best Supporting Actor for his turn in All of Us Strangers where he starred alongside Andrew Scott...'