#it’s like that x-files poster | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

figureofdismay · 2 days

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Detour is actually so so sweet. i feel like it gets heart-break-ified what with Mulder being oblivious to Scully's little wine hangout overture, but instead of it feeling like Scully's One Semi Overt Overture and he Missed It and she decided he's Not Interested, it actually reads to me that Scully is disappointed but also amused and charmed like, "right, I forgot who I was dealing with for a second there, of course he's serious about the cryptids," but in a grudgingly endeared way. That's her Mulder, alright!

And they're so comfortable together! they're tromping around in their anoraks and they're shouting each other's names in the forest, they're relaxed and chatting about cartoons and sleeping bags even when lost in the woods, none of the fear and recrimination like in Darkness Falls, or the quiet dread of Firewalker. Mulder even chats animal tracks with Michelle the beautiful forest ranger and Scully does not bat an eye, does not feel at all threatened for once. And Scully is so much more relaxed in the woods, you can tell she'd much rather be out there alone with Mulder than in a Best Western conference hall playing word games or whatever, where she'd have to keep up her Agent Scully pretenses.

Honestly, Detour is the episode is the episode that makes me think maybe the affair did begin post Momento Mori, or in the wake of her remission, and things had already shifted and somewhat begun to settle in by then. Making the wine and cheese tray not a Momentous first move but a semi established couple casual date offer that Mulder missed because he was in work mode and generally oblivious, which is why it didn't tank the mood between them when he accidentally turned her down. Seriously, Michelle would have been a huge point of contention and Scully would have been very snippy about her if she thought Mulder was ducking her tentative initial romantic move to go chase monsters with the tall, pretty forest ranger lady if she didn't feel like her place and priority with Mulder was already secure and happy.

Of course Diana and season 6 writing generally does contradict this theory, but the X Files's unofficial subtitle is "Continuity, hey who needs it right," so I do think that's strong support for the 'they got together at some point in the Cancer Arc' believers out there 👀

#the x files #msr #txf #txf s5 #detour #dana scully #fox mulder #and then he saves her from the creature one last time at the end while agents whatsherface and whatshisface are all ???#and think he's just messing with them 😂#but of course he's never joking about potential threats to scully #....wish there would have been time for followup where scully got to examine and log results of the forest guy for posterity #they actually got a cryptid corpse that other people saw!!#the only flaw in the episode is honestly that Scully wasn't sticking to that thing like glue insisting on working on it right away #with perfect chain of evidence so no one could say they were making it up

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endless-formsmostbeautiful · 10 months

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Mulder and Scully in their office - Bad Blood

Source: The X-Files Archive

#the x files #Their office is so great.#I have Mulder's poster in my dorm now.#(I do not really like the dorm but at least I like my poster.)

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marcyonacross · 4 days

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4, 21 & 32 for the questions! ♡

Hey lovely! 💕

4. Which cryptid being do you believe in?

I was going to give this a serious answer, but because it's you - Tobias Forge

21. Something you've kept since childhood?

I have three good answers for this - my white rabbit plush who is so old he's now grey, the ipod nano my dad got me in 2008 filled with such gems as pendulum_tarantula_clean.mp3 and an unbeatable Sonic the Hedgehog game, and a Faith No More shirt that again my dad got me at a FNM gig when I was still a fetus 😎

32. Do you have a favourite towel?

RED TOWEL MY BELOVED!!!!! The towel my nan got me to go to uni with, that is so thoroughly stained with bleach and hair dye and has been washed so much that it's soft as cardboard........ My beloved......

Thank you for the ask @sakuraspoke!

#FR that twitter post that was like a picture of Bigfoot with 'spotting Tobias Forge at the Grammys' did inconceivable damage to my brain #Getting an x files 'I believe' poster and taping a picture of his face to it #mutuals #asks

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post-modern-prometheus · 1 year

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me when anyone shows slight interest in conspiracy theories or the supernatural: you should watch x files

#was talking to this guy one time and he was like i like your i want to believe poster bc im obsessed w bigfoot #n i was like it’s from x files and he was like oh ive never seen it and i was like :) do i have the show for u

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vanderilnde · 1 month

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you buy a second-hand laptop from a dodgy craigslist user only to make a carnal discovery hidden between the files.

cw for anal sex, face fucking, pet play, choking, masturbation, noncon filmed sex, overall dubcon, reader is fujoing out

ghoap (x reader)

You saw it in a flitting advertisement. Used Acer Aspire V5, female buyers only, and didn’t hesitate to contact the poster.

Ghost was his screen name. Macabre, but not something to dwell on because he’s selling the only affordable hand-me-down you can find. He insisted on meeting at a hole-in-the-wall pub, beneath a metal sheet awning. There’s a cigarette pinched between his lips as you approach, an overripe mask rolled over his broken nose.

“You’re our bird?” He asks in a Manchester hint, exhaling a plume of off-white smoke.

You stifle over that operative word—our—but push through it and meekly nod, preening at his feet.

Beneath the predatory glint of his eyes, you realize you’ve gravely miscalculated the calibre of this situation. Meeting a complete stranger in a gritty alleyway and waiting to pick up his scrap-metal laptop, all because it satisfies your budget.

“Yeah…” you mumble. Try to make yourself invisible even though it’s redundant—he already towers over you, his shadow eclipsing your body, his heat drinking you in.

“‘ere it is,” he grunts. “You’ve got our cash?”

You hand him the crumpled wad of paper, squirming as he passes his thumb over his tongue and folds through the money, counting it with a mean curl of his lips.

“That’s– is everything alright?”

He stuffs the money into his jacket and expells a deep prusten sound, like an idle predator. “Fine. Pleasure doin’ business with you, bird.”

Ghost turns on his mud-clogged boot and strays off, letting the shadows swallow him whole. You hold the bulky laptop to your chest and wield it like a weapon on your way home, finally settling into bed, ready to examine your new purchase.

The hinges creak as you pull it open. A grimace splits your cheeks at the dust crusted in the margins, the rings of juice gummed to the mousepad.

A few letters from the keyboard are missing, and a few strips of tape look dog-eared, peeling from the corners, exposing the laptop’s internal wiring. Gossamer-like, spiderweb cracks work across the edges. The screen is a blotchy eyesore, striated with horizontal lines.

You have to beat your knuckles on the laptop to keep it from jamming. You navigate the desktop with simmering irritation, invaded by the inkling that you’ve been utterly scammed. Nothing matches the photos advertised on Ghost’s account, and just as your annoyance is about to ripen into white-hot anger, something catches your eye.

It’s nestled into a nook on the desktop. It’s an unnamed folder that stares back at you, unassuming, the icon already half-opened and waiting to be examined.

You double click it, more like triple click, actually, since the mousepad decides to cramp, and squirm as the folder flares over the screen. It’s a collection of videos, their thumbnails all spotty and dark, eclipsed by the thumb of whoever’s holding the camera.

Their titles are as cryptic as their photos.

wet.avi; tail_plug.avi; no_prep.avi; with_price.avi.

You find yourself scrolling lower, your fingers working against the mousepad like a rapidly unfurling spool of thread. You decide to investigate one of the videos, one with a foggy, filmy thumbnail, and carefully heed the title before poising your finger above the open function.

johnny_leash.avi

The video is grainy, as if it was imported from a camcorder rather than a phone. The first few seconds are a blurry with grey-scale strobes running across the screen, radiating an aura of seediness that makes a hint of discomfort sink like sediment in your stomach, adhering to your viscera. A deep, damp squelching sound peals out, tempered with the sticky noise of something being broken in, hollowed out.

The camera ebbs, settles, then focuses all at once. You think you’re going to faint.

It’s someone’s puffy ass getting stretched out on a fat cock. It puckers and tightens with each piston-paced thrust, red.

A large hand belonging to the person recording enters the frame. Their hand tattoos stretch as they split their palm across the hind of their spine, the cameraman’s fingers digging sickle-shaped scratches into their back, clawing them down on their battering ram of a cock.

“Quit whinin’, Johnny,” the voice behind the camera loudly grunts.

The one getting split open, Johnny, snivels into the pillow. His spine is curved into the mattress, his ass pert and sticking in the air, rippling with the force of the cameraman’s hips.

A plume of dust travels over the screen, fleetingly concealing the image. When the soot thins into the air and bares the salacious material of the video, you gasp.

There’s a glint caught on something silver from the feeble lightning. It’s a chrome-plated chain, you see, connecting to Johnny’s throat. A leather collar cutting into his ruddy skin. The leash is wrapped around the cameraman’s hand like a reel, and each time he tugs, pulling his hand back as if winding up for an attack, Johnny gets peeled off the bed, his back arching so deep you’re sure it’s close to snapping.

“Shit, Simon—!” He squeals. “Can ye… slow down?”

The aforementioned Simon grunts. Animalistic, like a rabid predator. The camera whirls, the unromantic colours of the room they’re in bleeding into each other, and when it focuses, you see Simon’s large palm splayed against the back of Johnny’s half-shaven skull, gripping his hair, pushing him into the bed.

The man flails like a fish out of water, struggling under his hand. It prompts an emergency response out of you—the way he’s being fucked into the mattress, no doubt pressing a Johnny-shaped chalk outline like the ones at crime scenes into the bedding. Alarm seizes you, and the thought of submitting this to the authorities trumpets like strobe lights in your mind.

The video is written with inept non-professionalism, reeking with the sentiment of a found-footage horror film that it’s not the authenticity that rattles your bones like a wind chime, but the morality.

You tell yourself to stop the video, but as the thought squeezes itself between your ears, Johnny’s hoisting his neck back and peering into the camera, his striking-blue eyes flaring in all-encompassing horror. His lips pop open and wrap around a soundless scream, warbling.

“Yer recordin’ me?”

“Smile for the camera, Johnny,” Simon pants. “Who knows who might see this, right?”

Simon shoots his hand up and bullies his fingers past Johnny’s lips. He sinks his nails into the round of his mouth, stretching his cheek back into a repugnant curl. It’s paradoxial—how Johnny’s mouth is pulled into a smile, but his eyes are wide and wet, wordlessly begging.

Your body betrays your moral plight.

Your rapt ocular vein, the signals rushing to your mind, your nipples stiffening in your shirt. You feel as though you’re made of livewire, not matter, as you watch Johnny’s ass get spread open on Simon’s cock, his eyes rolling like unruly billiard balls to the back of his head.

His ass is red and patchy, burning up. Simon’s hand swats through the air and makes the sound of a whistle, flaring into a booming crack of thunder whenever he brings it down on Johnny’s ass. It makes you jump. Makes you feel as if your ass is being abused by proxy just by sitting, and watching raptly.

Instead of inching your hand towards the button that exits the video, your hand dips below your waistband and moves to cup your cunt.

The gusset of your panties is already hot, clinging to your dewy core. It sticks to your pussy, baring your puffy lips and swollen clit. You give it a few slaps and rub your fingers languidly, pace quickening.

But the video abruptly ends before the ascent to your pleasure is able to materialize. You yank your hand from your pussy, smearing your arousal on the mousepad as you search for another video.

You don’t heed the title—face_fuck.avi—before clicking it and readily spreading your legs, flushing at the sound of your lips parting.

The video starts, and you swear it feels like you’ve been hit with a brick.

Simon—or Ghost, you now recognize—is a behemoth. Huge would be an understatement for him. The camera is set up this time, somewhere across the room, but Simon still just barely fits within the margins. He’s folded over Johnny who sits on his knees with his back against the wall, his neck hoisted up at him.

Simon’s cock is fat and heavy. He’s hard—this, you’re sure of because of how red his balls are—yet still, his cock droops with weight, the bulbous tip scarcely teasing Johnny’s lips.

“You want your snack, boy?”

Johnny nods. He darts his tongue out and tries kitten licking the slit, but Simon isn’t having that. He grips the base of his dick and swats it against Johnny’s cheek, slapping him, the noise so thick and resounding it sounds like a palm that breaks his skin, not a cock.

“Greedy bitch,” Ghost snarls—you decide that name is more seemly for him—“Can’t wait when it comes to dick, huh?”

Johnny’s lips part, a response poised behind his chattering teeth. However, his reply gets snuffed out and shoved to the back of his throat as Ghost feeds him his cock, slamming into him with one, slick motion.

Johnny’s head hits the wall, his face puckering as pain blooms behind his skull. The action makes his jaw clench, clamping down on Simon’s cock, but Simon is quickly gripping his hair and puppeting his head back, sliding his cock deeper, until the tuft of steel-wool hair on his pelvis brushes Johnny’s nose.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Ghost grunts. “No teeth.”

The only mercy Johnny is afforded is when he sinks his nails into the sinews of Ghost’s thighs, scratching him striated, trying to offset the burn in his jowls. The back of his head thumps dumbly against the wall with each of Ghost’s jackhammering thrusts, his smaller cock springing up and slapping against his navel.

You keen. Rub your clit a little faster, tease your forefinger around your winking hole as spit and precome sticks to Johnny’s chin the same way your juices strings your fingers together. Johnny goes lax and the video abruptly ends, and you almost feel yourself going crazy, hastily exiting the video because you miss the phantom sensation around your cunt getting stretched. You click on another video that has your heart jumping to your throat.

It’s dated from just yesterday, two days after you placed the order with Ghost.

breeding_my_boy.avi

Your panties are completely soaked through at this point. The image of Johnny folded like origami under Ghost, eclipsed by his body, makes you gush. His knees are pressed against his ears and his ass is in the air while Ghost tugs his cock, towering over him and pressing his tip against his hole, slowly sinking into him.

Simultaneously, you hook two of your fingers up your cunt. Your arousal seeps out and pools into the divots between your knuckles, hot and wet, making a sucking sound as you draw your fingers out and thrust them back in, pawing your walls.

Ghost pulls his cock to the tip before driving himself back inside. He’s deeply-seated, knocking the air out of Johnny’s lungs with each stroke. Ghost draws his thighs close for leverage and sinks his fists into the bed, on either side of Johnny before snapping his hips, feeding him his whole cock.

You sink your other hand below your pants and blindly sweep at your clit, watching with keen eyes as Johnny gets pounded into the mattress, his legs thrashing dumbly with the force, his hands twisting into the moth-eaten sheets because he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands and according to Ghost, he’s “not allowed to touch his cock.”

You can barely see Ghost’s sweat in the coarse-grained, gritty video filter. It comes out as glistening dew, dribbling down his neck and onto Johnny’s cheek, to which he swiftly laps up.

It’s the same thing for Johnny’s tears—sparkling in the soft smoulder of light, smearing like spread as Ghost works his rough tongue against his cheek, licking up his brine.

Johnny’s whimpers and the crack of flesh against flesh emanate out of the janky laptop as tinny, thin. However as Ghost lowers his head, grumbling against the hull of Johnny’s ear, whispering, the thin sound travels out of the speakers and punctures your stomach.

“Wish I could breed you, pup…”

Pleasure gyrates in your belly, frothy. You curl your toes into your mattress and buck into your fingers, feeling your orgasm beginning to crest. You pinch your clit the same way Ghost snakes his hand low, trapping the tip of Johnny’s cock between his fingers to squeeze.

“Smile a’ the camera, dog,” he mutters. Takes him by the jaw and dimples his cheeks as he makes Johnny look into the lens, his eyes glossed over.

“Y’reckon she’s touching herself?” Ghost growls. “Watching you turn a mess?”

Your orgasm is on the edge now. Ghost looks at the camera, his eyes glowing like predators do on trail cams, a swill of molten rushing through you. He looks like he did beneath the awning—animalistic, as he seems to stare directly at you, snapping into Johnny’s ass.

“m gonnae come…” Johnny whimpers.

Ghost chokes his hand around Johnny’s cock, sliding his hand up and down to the pace of his thrusts. And with what happens next, your body girdles, throwing itself into the throes of your panoramic orgasm.

It’s Johnny. Bending his back off the bed and squeezing his thighs. He moans your name—your screen name—the one used to purchase the laptop. He treats it like something to bite on to defer the pain of his orgasm, trembling.

Thick ropes of come shoot from his cock just as an off-white liquid escapes you, splattering over the screen. You’re quivering as Ghost fills Johnny, watching as his balls tighten and breathe like a pulse as he comes inside.

The three of you are miraculously synchronized. Your laboured breaths simmer, thinning into nothing, as the two of them turn to look at the camera.

You undertake the decision to keep the laptop.

And a week later while browsing Craigslist’s homepage, you stumble across a familiar username.

Posted by Ghost 32 minutes ago.

Looking for a flatmate in Manchester. Two roommates. Three bedroom. Females only. Serious inquiries only.

A second doesn’t pass before you’re writing up your application.

#ghost x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #ghost/reader smut #soap/reader #soap mactavish smut #ghost smut #ghostsoap x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost/reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #ghoap writing

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iskander-tm · 2 months

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Waiting for his man, to have an afternoon power nap

(rambling about background under the cut)

And there's a shmallll text of me explaining background because I'm really proud of how it turned out!!!

First things first - It's Kirk's room!

Here we have:

- a little model of Vostok - first space craft to carry a human inside

- dagger Spock got on one of the missions simmilar to earth's sword breaker

- dream catcher because at this point he's willing to try anything for a peaceful sleep

- Kirk stealing clay dudes from aborigines from different planet as a reminder that no matter how different from them and bizarre races they meet, they all united in urge of making little clay dudes

- I thought it'd be hilarious for Kirk to have such poster. Especially when Spock is his common guest (also x files was his bi awakening okay??)

Kirk's vitamins, sedatives, sleeping pills. Also when Spock comes in they set a higher temperature so Kirk is constantly thirsty

- Book that he got after his trial. After that one he even tried to record some things on paper, but he's not very good with organizing it

-Kirk boots( Spock wouldn't leave them like that, he's a careful man)

-Spock grows plants that he finds on planets and some are not accustomed to the heat of his room so he places them in Kirk's

-At last, when Spock and Kirk sleep together they set a temperature between what's comfortable for Spock and Kirk, so it's a bit too warm for Kirk and a bit too cold for Spock. That's why Spock wears pajama and Kirk (may or may not) wear only underwear

#star trek #tos #star trek tos #spock #s'chn t'gai spock #kirk #james t kirk #spirk #enviorment art #space husbands #trekking

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thebeautifulfantastic · 1 year

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i don’t know whether to feel happy or upset at myself because i made one really good purchase and one really impulsive, unnecessary one that i now regret :/

#the good purchase: an i want to believe poster (legit like the one in the x files office) and the after laughter vinyl #the dumb purchase: two pairs of cheap earring that i don’t need and now kind of hate #i’m gonna have to stop by the store on the way to work tomorrow and return them ugh #but at least i am now the proud owner of an X Files poster #belle speaks

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honestsycrets · 1 year

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Idle Hands [Miguel O’Hara x Reader]

❛ pairing | miguel o’hara x bratty wife!reader

❛ type | drabble

❛ summary | you’re a little bit of a show-off.

❛ tags | size difference, mostly fluff and cheese, a bratty reader, gif credit to original poster, slight overprotectiveness, an argument about a ‘dress’, just a kiss!

❛ sy’s notes | My obligatory bratty reader story. Just a light drabble to break up work on another chapter I’ve been working on. A few translations: Mande: Yes? (formal), Otra Vez: Again.

His little wife was a show-off, he was not.

Not intentionally. There were some things about himself he could not hide: the fangs, talons and claws, vivid organic webbing, brawny body, and other… glaringly obvious attributes. Attributes that he could not easily suppress. Now you, on the other hand--

“Miguel~” you sang in that wonderfully sing-song voice of yours. It was followed by the tapping of your feet running into the lab. Oh, here we go. He didn’t acknowledge your entrance with anything more than a well-placed grunt as he ran through lab reports with a shuffle of his hands. He had things to do. Things that didn’t include… distractions. “Miguel!”

“Si! Yes, what?! What do you need?” he slammed his hand down on his desk and threw you a look. You paused before him and fiddled with the bottom of your dress. You never came into the lab just to see him— because you knew how much work he had to do. You came to tease him.

He knew this was another one of your bids for attention. You always finished the tasks he threw at you quickly and efficiently. From the looks of it, you were indeed done with what needed to be done and here to harass him like the brat you were. He made a note to give you more work. His forehead grew with a line of tension as you pouted your soft, kissable lips at him. Then, as he brought his hand to the back of his neck to massage his sore muscles, he turned around. Not this again. Not now.

“Don’t raise your voice at me. Isn’t it ‘¿Mande?’, Miggy.”

His eyebrow twitched. He gritted out a cool “¿Mande?” through his interlocked fangs.

“Look at my new dress,” you flounced around and whirled into a spin.

He threw a look over his shoulder. Defining that as a dress was kind at best. It was a lovely pink and covered less than it should have. Worse, the dress was not equipped to handle your ass, even if it was obscured with a longer skirt in the back. His gaze drifted across the meager crisscrossed straps clinging to your chest. Show off. “Isn’t it pretty?”

He turned away from his work and crossed his thick arms one over another. Then, he twisted his finger to motion you to spin again. “Otra vez. Slow.”

You turned your foot tight over the other, spinning in a whirl of powdery pink. He wasn’t sure if it was the dress he was lingering on anymore or the bright smile plastered across your face. Even a pretty dress couldn’t brighten how you looked when you were happy. It was irreplaceable. Miguel leaned on his table. A smile crept onto the corners of his normally stoic lips. “Beautiful.”

“You think so?” you came closer to trace your fingertips over his chest in deliberately small teasing circles. Your hand then flattened, reaching as far up on his chest as you could go while on your tippy toes.

Miguel’s hands secured themselves on your waist before effortlessly lifting you onto his desk. He allowed his hand to glide up your thigh and delicately part your thighs from kissing one another. He took up the spot between your legs as his. You shimmied closer to him with the brightest shit-eating smile he’d seen that week, likely from your victory of relieving him from the many live screen panels and anomaly files.

“I always think so.”

With a soft, pleased hum, your fingertips danced across his shoulders. You always seem to know where the achiness was, working your hands over the spot. He rumbled, half pleased and half annoyed that he was pleased in the first place. The moment of rare relaxation irked him. You nibbled your plump lower lip in preparation for your next question, a sight that Miguel’s half-lidded eyes didn’t miss. “So... what if I wear it on my next big, bad villain detail?”

Despite your words, you fluttered your lashes at him like it was a joke... like it was inconsequential. His gaze hardened. He hated how you challenged him in areas you knew he wouldn’t be okay with. To soothe the beast, you traced your fingertips over his jawline, peppered with stubble. Your hands slinked around his head and delved into his thick tresses to drag him to your lips. Usually a wall of muscle, he stumbled forward and found himself enveloped in your muscular legs that hooked around his hips.

You slipped your tongue against his lips, a slight movement that invited his mouth to open up for yours. Miguel’s hand clasped at your waist before he drew his tongue against yours. You grazed his sharp fangs and swirled around his tongue. Miguel teased your lower lip with a soft nip when you tried to pull away. He let you escape at the price of another sweet kiss on his lips.

“Not a chance.” He huffed. His breath was warm against your lips. Then, he tapped his finger on your chest. “This? This is for my eyes-- only.”

“I know,” you hummed. “I know.”

#Miguel x Reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman imagines #spiderman imagine #across the spiderverse imagine #miguel o'hara x you #Miguel O'Hara reader insert

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dazednmatthews · 8 days

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don’t ever tell me to go away (from you) ~number neighbor!matt x reader part fifteen

i’m so sorry that this is like days late omfg. i haven’t forgot abt my promises to finish this or the last chris work i want to post!! ive just been so fucking busy it’s insane. i love u guys let’s get back to it fr (this is not the last part of number neighbor y’all)

“dumb. this is so dumb.” y/n says under her breath, restlessly pacing in front of matt’s door.

she’s been losing her mind out here for about twenty minutes, walking to her car then back to the front door and then all over again. she knows she looks fucking insane, but she can’t help it. the anxiety was tearing her stomach to shreds.

she hadn’t put much thought into it, really. after her conversation with daria, she was immediately met with a wave of determination. she showered, put on a presentable outfit and even brushed out her curls, which was a lot better than she’d done for herself the last seven days.

she hadn’t stopped to think about it until she was halfway here. she had matt’s address because of the one time she had a matching minions poster delivered (he hated it) and it had just lived in his contact file ever since. she knew that she had to talk to matt in person. one, because she knew that she would a hundred percent pussy out over the phone, and two, she knew he deserved that. at least.

thinking about it now though, y/n is shaking in her fucking boots at the thought of matt slamming the door in her face. or calling her a psychopath (derogatory) for showing up at his house unannounced. the only reason she even knew he was home was the car parked in the driveway.

in hindsight, maybe this was a bad idea. maybe it was too soon, or worse, she was too late. the thought has her spinning around in place, ready to beeline it back to her car for the last time.

because nothing ever works the way she plans though, she’s frozen in place by someone calling her name.

“y/n?” nick is baffled by the sight of the girl who’s had his brother losing his ever loving mind in his driveway. he has the car keys in hand, looking as if he was going to go search for something.

y/n gives a smile that probably looks like she’s being electrocuted. “hey, nick.”

he’s standing there absolutely dumbfounded, mouth slightly ajar. she’s never even been to their house, or met him and chris in person. it was awkward, because what is she supposed to say? “hey nick! don’t mind me, i’m just here to beg for your brother to talk to me again! nice weather, right?”

it was something close to her worst nightmare.

there’s another voice. “nick! what the fuck did we say about leaving the door wide open?”

chris comes out the house while looking at his phone. when he bumps into nick’s back, he looks up with a scowl. when his eyes shift to what nick is looking at, his jaw drops dramatically. “holy shit.”

y/n shifts on her feet uncomfortably. she feels like she’s in a zoo, being watched and marveled at. it’s strange, talking to them so much on the phone with matt yet standing in front of them for the first time in the middle of a fucked up situation.

“hey, chris.” she does a weird hand wave that makes her want to punch herself in the face. “um, is matt home?”

they just nod, still unmoving. chris speaks first. “his room is up the stairs to the left.”

she basically runs away from the scene, thanking them. she can hear nick whisper-yell to chris behind her. “this is fucking crazy!”

she bounds up the stairs hurriedly, not stopping to look around. she can feel herself panicking slightly, but before she knows it, she’s already at matt’s door and already knocking.

she can hear a muffled, “fuck off.” and a groan, but she knocks again anyway.

there’s a couple moments before he opens the door that y/n tries to slow her heartbeat. it works. for maybe three seconds. cause then matt is flinging open the door, irritation on his face and tight tank top resting on his top half. then her heart is nearly hitting him with how hard it’s beating out of her chest.

the irritation in his face drops when he realizes that it’s in fact not his brothers coming to annoy him for the seventh time that day. but y/n can’t decide if the look he wears now is any better. it’s blank and indifferent. like her presence is no longer something he’s affected by. and man, does that fucking suck.

she forces herself to speak. “hi, matt.”

he scans her face. “y/n.”

she shifts uncomfortably again, only this time the feeling is much worse. “can we talk?”

“you can’t just show up like this,” he says, using the same words she’d spoken to him a week ago. it makes her stomach twist in guilt. “it’s not fair.”

her palms are sweaty and she feels like she might throw up. it doesn’t help that his hair is messy and fluffy, just how she likes it. or that he’s wearing a different color variation of those stupid pajama pants. not to mention, there’s that fucking chain. her being is torn in half from being so insanely attracted to him and feeling so absurdly guilty.

“i’m sorry.” she offers, pleading look across her features.

matt runs his tongue over his top teeth. “for showing up unannounced or for ghosting me completely?”

“both.” her voice is low, scared that he’s about to slam the door in her face.

he must accept that answer though, because he widens his door, stepping aside for her to come in.

she does, and instantly shes hit with about a million different memories while looking around his room. all the countless hours on the phone; laughing and arguing, flirting and fake-bashing each other— it caused an ache in her she didn’t know how to soothe. she wanted to try though.

when she turns around, matt is leaning against his bedroom door, arms crossed. he’s not saying anything, which is fair, but it does nothing to quell the worry clouding her.

“how-“ she stops, stuttering slightly. “how are you?”

matt raises an eyebrow. “fine.” his eyes are guarded. “if you count out the fact that the only girl i’ve been talking to for like forever suddenly disappeared without a trace for reasons she won’t tell me.”

she deserved that. “damn.”

her eyes widen after that because that is so not what she meant to say. she’s a shaky, disoriented mess and the fact that matt looks completely uninterested in what she has to say isn’t helping at all.

“is there a point to this or did you just come here to stare at me?”

“yes to both,” she admits, rubbing at her face. she takes a deep breath, choosing to just jump in. she thinks about daria’s words and she goes for it. “i’m a fucking idiot. i’m sorry.”

he doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “i didn’t mean it. what i said last week. when we were texting and when you came to my house. of course i care. of course this is something to me.”

matt still looks unbothered. it makes y/n want to stop talking, to run out of here and never look back. but she knows that she has to keep going. she has never once in her life backed down from a fight, and she wouldn’t start now.

“i was… scared.” she says begrudgingly. you have to be open with yourself. “everything was moving so fast. by the time i realized i liked you, i was so fucking obsessed i could barely even think about anything else. it freaked me out; made me feel like i had more to lose than you did.”

matt kisses his teeth. “i told you multiple times that i liked you. wanted to talk to you all the time. wanted to see you all the time.” he pushes off the door, coming to stand in front of her. “every ounce of free time i had was filled with you. do you think i spend hours on the phone with just anyone?”

y/n’s eyes are trained on the floor. “it didn’t matter because it all felt like a joke. saying shit like that was just how we were. it felt okay because it was never super serious. but as soon as i actually realized how i felt, i freaked and pushed you away. and then when you texted me that you wanted to be official it felt too good to be true. like you were lying. or it was another joke that we would laugh about. so i completely shut you out. and i’m so fucking sorry for that.”

matt scratches at his beard, which is so grown out it was making her dizzy. his eyes are soft but hesitant and all y/n wants is to kiss away the doubt she created.

“i meant what i said,” he lifts her head with his hand, making her look at him. “the or something.”

she knows exactly what he means. the blush that burns beneath her skin could light a fire. the second their eyes connected it felt like the world fell away. she wants to capture this feeling and tuck it away for any bad day after this. this feeling that matt gave her of iridescence. like she could shine in the darkest room. like she was something worth looking at. something worth really seeing.

the words are at the base of her throat, fighting to get out. she wants to tell him exactly how she feels but it’s still fucking stuck.

“just or something?” she baits, leaning into his touch when he moves his hand from her chin to her cheek. she kisses his palm and suddenly she feels like she’s right back on that park bench the first time they met. excited and giddy and nervous for the future.

matt’s lips turn up just the slightest bit. “if you think i’m gonna be the first one to say it after the hell you put me through,” he leans down and kisses the corner of her lips. “you’re even crazier than i thought.”

y/n has no choice but to laugh at that. it’s breathy and fleeting, because the heavy words are still on the tip of her tongue. she knows matt is half kidding, but he has a point.

she trails a hand up his chest, fingers toying with the chain she’s completely infatuated with. she hooks her index finger around it, tugging matt down to her level. she ghosts her lips over his. “unfortunately for the both of us, i’m in love with you, stupid.”

y/n finally wins the smile from him that she’d been fighting for. “unfortunately?”

she shrugs. “yeah. for you, because now you’re actually stuck with me. for me because you’re the most irritating person i’ve ever met.”

matt looks at her, eyes sparkling. there’s no joking annoyance or fake flat look. his eyes are lit up like the fourth of july, telling her exactly how much he’s ready to be stuck with her. he doesn’t even roll his eyes.

“i think i’ll manage.” he says, bumping his nose against hers, silently begging for a kiss. “i love you too, stupid.”

there’s about a half a second that y/n takes to just look at him, take him in. the man she loves and that loves her. then she basically jumps on him.

matt laughs into her lips and it sounds like heaven to her ears. he picks her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, kissing her like he’d missed her all his life.

it’s teeth and tongues and longing all being tied into each other. it’s doubt and fear and time wasted all falling away. it’s exactly where they need to be.

matt pulls away, and y/n opens her eyes, annoyed. “i wasn’t done.” she’s pouting, childishly.

matt smirks, moving to sit at the foot of his bed, still attached to his dream girl. “i know i’m irresistible but hold on a second.”

“i hate you.”

“no actually, you love me. said it yourself.” he winks obnoxiously, giving her a peck. his face stills momentarily, giving y/n a look that puts her on edge. “i just want you to know that i would never hurt you. i understand why you did what you did, i really do. but i need you to promise me that the next you feel like that or any kind of way, that you’ll talk to me. cause i can’t do that again.”

for a moment, y/n can see just how much it actually hurt him. how her apathy and avoidance had wriggled into his chest and made him the slightest bit insecure. he’d never tell her, but she knew.

so she grabs matt’s jaw, cupping it between her hands. her fingers scratch at his beard slightly and he preens at the touch. “i promise. i won’t shut you out again. i’m sorry i ever did.” the kiss she leaves on his lips is so soft, so gentle, she thinks she finally found the way to soothe and squash the ache. “i think you’re my favorite person.”

he smiles at her. it feels like no love she’s ever known. “you’re my favorite too.”

they spend the rest of the night there, wrapped in each other tightly. hands wandering and clothes falling. lips leaving white-hot kisses and sinfully sweet noises leaving them breathlessly.

and when matt’s lips leave a toe-curling trail of kisses all the way down to right between her legs, y/n thanks the fucking universe that she was bored that random day four months ago.

TAG LIST:

@cottoncandyswisherz @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @55sturn @chrryclouds @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @hypnotizedsturn @riowritesitall @kitaysworld @h3arts4harry @fikefries @conspiracy-ash @matty-bear @always-reading @thehighgrounds @unbruisable @ribread03 @stasiesturn

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auroraeternal · 15 days

Text

4t3 Conversion of Grouped posters by @cosmiccs4 + Recoloring PSD with tutorial

8 non-recolorable presets

1024 textures

Included PSD for retexturing (tutorial how to use under the cut)

113 poly, all LODs

Shiftable

Price - 5§

BGC

Compressed package

TOU, Ko-Fi

DOWNLOAD | ALT | SIMBLR.CC

Tutorial: How to use my PSD for retexturing

You need:

Photoshop with .dds plugin

My retexture PSD and package file of posters

19 pictures to your liking, preferably vertical

TSRW

Sims3Pack Multi Installer and Compressionizer

Step 1: Open my PSD file, open your images:

Step 2: Select (Ctrl+A) copy and paste to posters file (Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V) first of your images :

Step 3: Choose where you want to put it, for reference you can use one of the presets:

Step 4: After you decided with placement of your image. Move its layer in the Layers tab between "Poster x" and "Put your image here" layers, it will create a clipping mask, which allows the picture to be fit within the poster without cropping. Hide or delete "Put your image here" layer.

Step 5: Use Transform, Free Transform and Move tools to resize the image by your liking:

Step 6: Repeat the Step 2-5 with other 18 images:

*vibes are totally random, all images from Pinterest*

Step 7: After you've done, delete all the "Put your image here" layers, if you didn't it before. Right-click on the Layers tab and press Merge Visible (Shift + Ctrl + E). Now press Save As (Control + Shift + S) and save your image as .DDS with this parameters (2nd picture):

Step 8: Go to TSRW. Press Create New Project > New Import, and select package with my posters. Give for your recolor unique Title and Project name, otherwise it will override original posters:

Step 9: In Textures tab go through all the presets except the first one and delete them. Then go to Edit > Project Contents and remove all the textures of removed presets. Its pretty common when someone make retexture of TS3 mesh and leave that unused textures in file, which leads to increasing its size:

Step 10: Press Edit button next to the Overlay tab. Then press Import button and select your retexture. Press Done and when this pop-up appears, press Yes:

Step 11: If you want to add more presets press Duplicate and reapeat Step 10, but instead, when pop-up about replacing the texture appears, press No.

Step 12: After you've done, press File > Export > To Sims3pack or Edit > Project Contents > Export > To .package. If you choose the first method, convert your Sims3pack to Package and in both cases run it through Compressionizer. Test your recolor In-game, make thumbnails (if you want to share it) and have fun!

For those who read this tutorial to the end, click HERE to download this recolor.

@pis3update @xto3conversionsfinds @wanderingsimsfinds @kpccfinds @simfluencer-network @sssvitlanz @simblrcc-site

#my cc #ts3 #the sims 3 #sims 3 #4t3 #4t3 conversion #s3cc #ts3 cc #ts3cc

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glow-worms-are-believers · 8 months

Text

Geocaching fic idea (dp x dc)

Ok so, in this Tucker gets into geocaching stuff. He's got his trusty PDA and he's on forums doing different geocaching with some of them being more elaborate. Then he comes across this old thread of riddle and puzzle-filled geocaching which seems really cool, but the problem is it looks like the thing has been shot down. Which would suck, except Tucker digs into it a bit more (so what if he tracks the IP dress and looks into the original poster's file) and finds a brand new one.

Of course, Tucker is super hyped and decide to do it. The puzzle seem really fun and even if there's no prize to find in the end, it looks like a good time. So he cracks the first puzzle and gets to the first location.

He gets there and finds that he's not alone! There's a bunch of costumed people doing the geocache thing too! They seem to be really into method acting and are all like ‘our associate has been kidnapped and these clues were left by a super villain to find him'. Tuck has done LARPing before and he can roll with it, in fact he thinks it's pretty neat. But then they try and tell him to go home.

Tuck doesn't want to ruin their vibe but this is really dope so he decides to prove he's not amateur by solving the second riddle. The people look like they respect him a bit more, but are still hesitating. Tuck figures it's cause they don't want him to ruin the LARPing part so since they're all acting as superheroes he decides to tell them he's himself a hero but he's in civies right now (which is even sorta true with Team Phantom and all!)

So they get through the clues and Tucker can't remember last time he had this much fun. The guys are such good actors, Tuck can't help but think they have to be some kind of famous, so he plans to ask for an autograph at the end of the geocaching thing. After a bit, they eventually manage to find the 'kidnapped victim' (there's even a vat of fake acid and yet another fantastic actor playing a flamboyant villain) and save the day. Tuker is so so glad they let him join in because that was epic, he does have to say goodbye though he says they should do this again sometime.

As for the bats, they just met a very competent new hero on the scene who just handed them his civilian identity in order to help save one of their own. They are very grateful (and only a tiny bit suspicious as is par for the course with the bats) and they want to offer any help they can or at least exchange contact information which they didn't manage to get since the guy left so fast. So, they look him up.

#later the costumed guys come to Amity Park and Tucker realizes they weren't LARPing at all #he proceeds to never tell anyone that he thought the rescue mission was geocaching #dc x dp #dp x dc #tucker foley #roxpox #roxpoxwrote #geocaching au

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theehoneeybee · 7 months

Text

Talking In Your Sleep. Chapter 1.

Talking in Your Sleep - Blue Monday

The new security hire doesn't realise he's in deep. There's more than just abandoned arcade games and dusty decorations at Freddy Fazbears Pizza.

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader

Word count: 2.2k

a/n: I haven't written in like a year but the fnaf movie altered by brain chemistry. this series is cross posted on my ao3. lmk what you think!

series m.list

next part >

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The halogen lights flickered, lighting up the black grey room, it's peeling walls covered in fake-motivational posters. Dream Big! Work Hard! What bullshit. Mike bounced his leg anxiously. Yet another job gone because of his temper. That was the third one this month. At this point, he had spent more time at the career councillors office than at an actual job.

"Number 27," the receptionist called out drearily.

Mike grabbed his jacket and made his way to the councillors office, already dreading the outcome. This councillor wasn't one he had met before. He swivelled around in his chair, skimming through Mike's file with a less than pleased expression plastered on his face. Amongst his cluttered desk strewn with paperwork from the hundreds of others looking for work was a black and gold name tag. Steve Raglan.

"What is your deal Mike?" he asked, gaze not lifting from the manila folder. "What are you, some kind of headcase?"

Steve reads aloud the incident which landed Mike in his office. It was all a misunderstanding. Mike had seen a confused, lost young boy wandering through the shopping centre, so when a strange man dragged him away, he couldn't sit idle. Of course, he should have talked to the man first instead of immediately brutalising him and traumatising his poor son in the process. He knew that. But at the time, all he could think about was protecting the boy. The loss of Garrett eats away at him. Steve lists out his past jobs. One week. Terminated. Two weeks. Insubordination, terminated.

"It's like you're not even trying, yet you sit before me asking for help," Steve sounded almost amused. "I'm just trying to figure out who you are, Mr Michael Sch-"

Steve's expression changed. He rereads the last name printed on the page, glances up at Mike, staring at him with an unreadable expression. He gets up to pour himself a cup of coffee with shaky hands and a furrowed brow.

"I'm going to be brutally honest with you here Mike. Given your track record, your options are gonna be extremely limited."

"I'll take anything. Any job you've got," Mike bargains but Steve insists it's not that easy. Defeated, Mike gets up to leave before Steve quickly speaks again.

"I have a job for you." Mike sits back down. "It's a security gig. Full disclosure: it's not great. But you only have to worry about one thing, keeping people out. And well, keeping the place tidy but-"

"That's two things," Mike interrupts.

Steve shrugs. "Do you want the job or not?"

"How's the pay?"

"Not great, but the hours are worse," Steve explained with a smile.

Mike's expression fell, rubbing the back of his neck. He muttered out, "I can't do nights."

Steve chuckled. "That's such a shame." As Mike got up to leave, thanking him, Steve gave him his card.

"In case you change your mind."

The roads were always empty at this time of the night. Your car hummed quietly as you made your way to work. 11:48pm, the clock read. These night shifts had really messed up your sleep schedule. You yawned, pulling into the parking lot and stepping outside. The icy breeze ran straight through you, the cheap security vest doing little in the way of warmth. You hugged it tighter to yourself, eager to get inside and escape the cold. Immediately you were hit with the smell of dust and rot, something you had become familiar to over the past weeks. You navigated through the pizzeria, kicking broken glass from the many break-ins out of your way. Even with the curtains drawn shut, as you passed the animatronic show stage you could feel eyes burning into you. The whole place gave off an unsettling vibe. When you had gotten the job, they explained to you the owner was sentimental which is why he kept the place up, rather than demolishing it. You couldn't understand why. As you entered the security office, you grabbed a chair and wedged it under the door handle. It had become routine. Doors would randomly open and more nights than not, footsteps could be heard down the hallway. Yet, you never saw anyone there. You sat down in the cracked leather chair, booting up the monitors to begin yet another long shift.

You swivelled around in your chair, trying to entertain yourself. Every room in the pizzeria was decked head to toe in cheap Freddy Fazbear merchandise. It left a sour taste in your mouth. As a child, you had spent countless hours in the pizzeria against your will. Instead of paying for childcare, or taking time off work, your parents would just dump you at the pizzeria. After school, weekends, whenever. From open to close. On more than one occasion, you had tried running home only to find the house locked. It was only once you started getting older they gave up on the pizzeria, leaving you at home instead. It was almost ironic that you chose this job after all the time you had spent here, but money is money. On the plus side, you never had to deal with annoying co-workers or rude customers. One by one, the hours slowly ticked by. Tonight was quiet. No sounds of footsteps or random clanging. Everyone was right in their place. Some nights you could've swore you had seen Foxy move. The curtains to Pirate's Cove didn't close properly, allowing you to see inside. Maybe you were just sleep deprived, but one night, about a week ago, it looked like foxy had moved and was staring directly down the camera. It was like they knew you were there. But after you had rubbed your eyes, he was back to normal. The second the clock struck six you were out, avoiding staring at the show stage as you rushed out the door.

Mike stared at the phone, idly toying with the business card Steve had given him the day before. He couldn't work nights, that hadn't changed, but he was at a point were that was his only choice. Aunt Jane was trying to take custody of Abby, citing Mike's inability to care for his younger sister and lack of employment. As right as she was, Aunt Jane was a bitch, and there is no way Mike was letting her take custody of Abby. Mike turned around to look at Abby who was sat in front of the TV, drawing as always. Abby didn't talk to Mike much, too absorbed in her drawings and conversations with her imaginary friends. He sighed and dialled in the number, holding the phone up to his ear as he waited for Steve.

"Hello?" The crackled voice through the phone answered.

"Hi Mr Raglan, it's Mike."

"Mr 'I can't work nights'." Mike could hear Steve's smirk through the phone.

"Right. I was just wondering if that job is still available?"

"Oh, it absolutely is. Why? Have you had a change of heart?"

Mike turns around again to look at Abby. "How soon can I start?"

As you were getting ready for work, the phone rings. You answer it, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you struggled to lace up your shoes. "Hello?" you asked.

"Hi, it's Steve Raglan," the man replies. Shocked, you grab the phone properly and sit up.

"Oh, Mr Raglan. What can I do for you?" You prayed to every God in existence that he wasn't firing you. As little as the job paid, you needed every cent.

Almost like he was reading your mind, Steve replied, "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. But, we are making some changes to the job." You listened anxiously. "We've hired another security guard. Given how big the place is we thought you could use an extra set of hands. He's starting tonight so you'll have to train him but I'm sure you guys are gonna have no problem." Before you could protest, Steve wishes you a good night and hands up. You groan, leaning back in the chair. The solitude was one of the very few things you enjoyed about this job and now that was taken away from you. You snatched your keys and left, slamming the door behind you.

As you drove the the pizzeria, you wonder what kind of person was desperate enough to take this job. Well, you, but who else? You arrived in the parking lot at the same time as your new co-worker. As soon as he stepped out of the car, you noticed how tired he looked. His dark hair was messy and bags hung heavy under his eyes. He definitely didn't want to be here. The two of you walked silently to the door. You glanced at him and introduced yourself as you unlocked the doors.

"I'm Mike," he replied, barely looking at you. Okay, rude.

You let him inside and began to give him a rundown of the job. "It's not that hard," you explained. "Ninety percent of the time you're just sitting around watching the monitors. Occasionally I'll clean stuff up or go investigate a noise, but there haven't been any break-ins so far."

As you walk past the show stage, Mike peeks behind the curtains. You smirk and decide to give him a fright. You press the big, red Showtime! button next to the stage. Immediately, colourful lights illuminate the room and loud 80's music plays as the curtains draw back. Mike steps back in shock, watching as the animatronics on stage start to sing and move about. He shoots you a look of annoyance for scaring him. The show is cut short by the fuse box tripping, the lights flicker off and the curtain draws.

"Amazing, right?" you say sarcastically. "The power here is pretty shitty. If it goes off, there's a breaker. Just flip it off and on and it should work again."

Mike stayed silent as he followed you to the security office. He watched you curiously as you wedged a chair under the door.

"It's just for safe measure," you explain. He gives you a half-hearted nod and investigates the office. You sighed. It was going to be a long night if this is what he was like.

You turned on the monitors and showed Mike how to use them. The technology was old and half of the buttons were jammed and caked in dust. It didn't take Mike long to figure out how it worked.

"I'm gonna do a check of all the rooms. Just keep and eye on the cameras and give me call if you see anything," you said. Mike gave you a quite okay, keeping his eyes on the screens. You left and wandered through the abandoned pizzeria. As bad as it sounded, you didn't think he would last. Why was he so unfriendly? Nothing you had said or done was mean yet he was so standoff-ish. The building groaned and the old lights flickered. From down the hallway, you heard a hum. It sounded like someone singing. You stopped in your tracks, pointing the flashlight down the hall. You never heard anyone come in, but something about the song didn't sound human. It was familiar, something you had heard before. You slowly walked away and snuck back into the security room.

"You okay?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah..." you trailed off. "Yeah I'm fine. Did you see anything on the cameras?"

Mike shook his head. You sighed and slumped down into the chair. You must just be tired.

It was only 3am. You looked over to Mike who was barely awake. "You can sleep," you offered. "You look really tired."

"I'm fine," Mike insisted but you narrowed your eyes.

"These shifts will ruin your sleep schedule. Try get some while you can."

Mike chuckled. "It's ruined enough thanks."

Your eyes caught onto the book on the table. Dream Theory. Curious, you picked it up and skimmed through the pages. You looked up at Mike with a slight smile. "I didn't expect you to be into this stuff." Mike looked embarrassed.

"Apparently, everything you ever hear or see is stored somewhere in your mind," Mike began to explain. "You can access them through your dreams when you use familiar sights and sounds," he paused. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

That was the most Mike has said all night. You shook your head. "I think it's cool. I don't really get it, but it's cool." He looked surprised by your response.

Slowly, your shift came to an end. The sun was slowly starting to rise. You were ready to crawl into bed and sleep for the rest of the day. Mike looked like he felt the same. He intrigued you. yes, he was closed off and honestly a bit rude, but there was definitely more to him than he lets on. The metal of the gate was freezing against your hands as you locked up the pizzeria, your breath visible the the cold morning air. Mike tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, squinting as the bright morning sun beams into his eyes. As your make your way to your car, you give Mike a small wave.

"I'll see you tomorrow night."

He nods and you think you almost see him smile. "See you tomorrow."

#mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #william afton

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abbyromanoff · 9 months

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I don't if you'll do this request but I wanna request for Fan!Wanda x Singer!Reader (Reader has the music of Elvis Presley) Wanda meets Reader for the first time and they instantly click

I CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1631

WARNINGS: fluff, fan!Wanda, singer!R, literally nothing but sweet fluff sooooo :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Wanda looked at her empty bank account with a frown on her face, she had paid so much to try and get tickets to your concert that she forgot to have common sense. But this was an exception, you were her idol, the person she’d been dreaming of meeting for years. She had posters of you in her room, even, and now she was going to be meeting you. After the concert she’d be able to take a photo with the person she’s been obsessing over for years, this was worth the missed bills.

She entered the building after hours of waiting and took her spot near the front row, admiring the platform that would soon be holding you. Jitters of excitement coursed through her as a smile was plastered on her lips, she had never been so happy.

Shouts of your name could be heard across the entire stadium yet she was the loudest, she couldn’t care less if she’d lose her voice the next day. She blushed from your radiant smile alone and held onto the bars tightly as people tried getting as close to the front, nearly squishing her in. She was trying to enjoy this, but the pain in her stomach from the railing was not making it easy.

“Hey! Can everyone please take a few steps back from the front?” You asked when your song came to an end, the rasp in your voice sending many into spirals. They listened and Wanda was nothing but grateful, especially when she noticed your eyes on hers for a brief moment.

“Thank you, thank you!” The show continued like normal, but Wanda couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear when watching the way your lips moved so well. She wondered what they’d feel like against hers.

“Thank you for coming everybody! I can’t wait to meet some of y’all, and for the rest of you, have an amazing night!” You were rushed off the stage by your managers and you instantly chugged down the extra water they offered you. While you loved your fans more than anything, it was so tiring and exhausting sometimes. But you wouldn’t trade this for the world, it was your dream since childhood and now you’re here, singing your heart out in front of thousands of people.

“Okay, everyone please calm down, you’ll all get a chance to see them.” The young lady spoke, trying her best to gather the crowd but failing to be heard. You picked at the skin of your nails anxiously and bit your lip, trying to gather yourself before they all started filing through. That didn’t last very long.

Most of the people who saw you were trying their best to talk to you or were crying their eyes out, you helped them as much as possible and gave them a small hug before taking a photo and signing their item of choice.

Once the wave ended, you took a deep breath before they got ready for the next. And it continued that way until nearly two full hours passed. It was close to midnight and while you felt horrible for the people who had to wait so long to see their favorite artist, all you wanted to do was go home.

Wanda, on the other hand, was shaking with joy when she was next in line, her gaze being able to land on your figure with how close she was. You said your goodbyes to the young gentleman in front of you and turned to look at her, eyes widening slightly in result. She was beautiful, you’ve never seen such a woman.

“Uh, hi, it’s wonderful to meet you.” You shook her hand and, even if she was the one meant to be filled with nerves, somehow you were even worse. It wasn’t often you got to meet someone who held such power over you as a normal civilian.

“Hi, Ms- uhm, Y/N.” You chuckled as your hand stayed in hers, only when you realized did you pull away hesitantly.

“Alright, can we get this going? There’s a line of people out there.” You nodded and wrapped your arm around her, pulling her close and smiling as she hugged your waist. A blush was adorning your cheeks along with hers, and when she pulled away, she grabbed something from the back of her pocket and you thought she was going to ask you for an autograph but instead it was a small bracelet. You looked down at the object with a grin, only to notice she was being directed to leave.

“Wait!” She turned around and so did the groups of workers. “Uh, would you be willing to wait for me? This group will be done in about five minutes. Obviously, only if you want to, of course.”

“Yes!” She must’ve cringed at her eagerness and cleared her throat before retrying. “I mean- that would be great, I’ll meet you in the back?”

“Yeah, right behind the curtain and I’ll be there.” She nodded and was then brought to the spot you requested, happiness being evident in your expression for the rest of the few minutes.

Before the next wave could come in, you went to where the brunette was waiting and greeted her with a hug this time, letting yourself linger a moment too long and only pulling away so you could properly see her.

“I’m sorry, I don’t usually do this. I just saw you in the front row and thought you were absolutely beautiful and then you came in and I didn’t want to let you walk away without saying something.” She lowered her head in embarrassment when she was beaming in excitement, not only did she get to meet you but here you were standing right in front of her complimenting her beauty.

“Would it be okay if I got your number? Or I could give you mine, t-that would be okay too. That is if you want to-“ Noticing her rapid nod was the only answer you needed and wanted. You let out a relieved sigh and took out your phone where you accessed your keypad before handing it over. She shakily typed, making sure to read the numbers over and over in case it was wrong.

“There, you can text me after the meet and greet or whenever really, I don’t mind.” She chuckled anxiously and, before you could say anything else, workers were trying to usher you back inside.

“Well, I’ll text you then.” She leaned forward, pressing her lips onto your cheek and leaving with a small wave, trying her best to keep her composure and not completely freak out. The rest of the night she was stuck on your mind as you were hers. She stared at the poster in her room where you sang a sweet melody into the mic, not only did she get to hear it in person but there’s a chance she could again, this time with only you.

Suddenly, her phone rang and she was greeted with an unknown number, but she knew it was you.

“Hey, I know I said I would text but- I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to hear your voice again.”

“It’s okay, I’m actually glad you called, I’ve been thinking about you.” She heard shuffling on the other side along with the beeping of an open car door.

“Oh yeah?” She giggled quietly, trying not to wake up her sleeping parents in the next room.

“Well, would it be weird for me to say I’ve been thinking about you too?” Her heart skipped a beat as one side of her wanted to scream in joy, while the other part of her knew that would most likely blow her chance with you.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Just how nice it would be to take you on a date sometime.” She was silent for a moment before she spoke up, the anxiety inside of you growing and growing in hopes of receiving the answer you want.

“You wanna take me on a date?”

“Why not? You’re simply the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever had the blessing of laying my eyes on and I can already tell you have the kindest soul known to mad-kind, I guess I just want to learn more about you.” You must’ve had experience with dating as you nearly knocked her off her feet. If you asked her to marry her at this exact moment, she would’ve said yes.

“Then I guess I can’t say no to that, now can I?”

“I guess not. How about this Friday night, you busy?” The decision-making went on for only a few minutes as she internally canceled any plans she may have for the next year if it meant she got to spend the evening with you.

“I can give you my address and you can stop by, but I get if that sounds a little creepy for a first date.”

“No, no, that’s fine! Yeah, just send me the info and I’ll be there.” She bit her lip nervously until she saw the text from you, writing down and memorizing the apartment number multiple times.

“Alright, I’ll be there, 8 PM sharp.” You said your goodbyes after nearly half an hour of talking, but you didn’t want to stop yet. You wanted to keep going, to create small conversations again and again if it meant hearing her voice. No one had ever had such a pull on you before, what was so different about her?

Meanwhile, Wanda was already planning her outfit for the upcoming event, scurrying through each dress or jumpsuit to try and figure out what would impress you the most. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to be sleeping tonight.

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