#nathan sharp what the FUCK

[war-never-ends]

this song is making me want to tear all of my hair out and run off into the woods and live in a dark dingy cave for the rest of my life /pos

#natewantstobattle #nathan sharp #to let go #socioenvy #nathan sharp what the FUCK #IM CRAZZY. #IM CRAZY. #IM CRAZY IM CRAZY. #IM CRAZY IM. CRAYZ IM CRAZY #YOU HAVE NO IDEA #YOU HAVE NO IDEAAAA #okay im normal again #great song

[nanoa1foryou]

I love (hate. Actually hate.) that Nate will make the most hard hitting songs you ever heard and then slap Fnaf in the title because youtube has decided he is nothing more than a Fnaf guy.

Nothing wrong with anything. Nothing at all.

#what the fuck #natewantstobattle #if you were unaware nothing wrong with me is an origibal song that has nothing to do with fnaf #like a lesson in grief is an original song with nothing to do with sonic #natewantstobtl #nathan sharp #nwtb

[th3w00ds]

Nate’s cover of KICK BACK is giving both Phantom and Mare vibes what the fuck how

#excuse me what the fuck #HOW #HOW THE FUCK #IS IT GIVING ME THE VIBES OF BOTH OF THEM #usually it’s only one or the other #huh #natewantstobattle #nwtb #nathan sharp #natewantstobtl #natewantstobattle egos #nwtb egos #natemare #natemare nwtb #phantom nwtb

[kelin-is-writing]

Exactly.

That’s why I have so many ideas and thoughts, and theories. I legit could write an essay. Because I will if I have too.

Touya didn’t have to turn into Dabi. Dabi didn’t have to exist. Ya know? He needed family and he didn’t get that until the league even then he doesn’t really consider them a family I feel like. I mean he does and doesn’t. I need to sort that thought out before I can explain perfectly.

i think at this point dabi is so afraid to get hurt again by others, that he genuinely doesn't want to create bonds with anyone anymore and the way he sometimes is off alone during his missions says everything about it.

but you know what, i think he cares lots for the L.O.V more than dabi actually shows and there were plenty times it showed. our boy probably even panicked the moment he started to think that, maybe, having and seeing a family in the league is not that bad of a thing after all.

that being said, this man deserves happiness while endeavor deserves d34th and i stand by this 🥰

#kelin responds #answered #nathan sharp wife #literally... #fuck endeavor #and pro-herhoes too (except aizawa present mic and midnight th others can root in hell for what i care) 🙄 #as long as dabi and my lov babies are happy life is good 🤧💜

[liquid-geodes]

NATHAN?!?!?

#I THOUGHT SCRAP HEAP WAS YOUR LAST FNAF SONG #WHAT WAS THAT THAT YOU DROPPED THIS MORNING??? #THE SONG THAT SLAPPED THAT WAS VERY MUCH A FNAF SONG BY YOU AFTER YOU SAID NO MORE FNAF #NATHAN YOU CANT JUST DROP BANGERS ON ME OUT OF NOWHERE #THIS SONG FUCKS HARD DUDE #natewantstobattle #nathan sharp

[spacecowboyhotch]

In Plain Sight, Ch 2: A Hoard of Cupids

summary: nathan’s much more insightful about you than he used to be. it’s making you uneasy…and curious.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, pining, nathan trying to be nice but he’s so abrasive lol, pining, mentions of caretaking/sick family members, mentions of emotionally abusive parents, masturbation (m), sub!nathan if you squint

wc: 2,745

AN: back at it with part twoooo. thank you all for the kind words and support on this fic, i didn’t expect it to get the response it did but i’m really excited to give y’all the rest. fair warning that these chapters seem to be getting longer as i write on. happy reading!

in plain sight masterlist | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Nathan gives you space— at first. When you return the next day at 7 a.m. sharp he’s nowhere to be found. Not in the living room or in the kitchen, not on his patio boxing. You assume he’s in his room, probably toying with one of his bots in a distasteful manner. The idea makes you shudder. But is it not easier to come to work with every task he could want you to do placed on his desk, no fuss?

You don’t like Nathan Bateman. He’s a pompous asshole, a know it all, a man who thinks only about his own desires. When he apologized— or rather attempted to— yesterday you thought that maybe you slipped and fallen down the stairs on your way out. By his standards, it was a top tier apology. You’d never once heard him apologize to anyone. On your drive home you had wondered if he had ever apologized in his life. The thought made you giggle, and then you’d turned up the music and forgotten about him until right now.

Sat at your desk, an ungodly stack of things to do. There’s a note sat on top. It’s simple and straightforward, lacking emotion but somehow still has your stomach flipping. It reads:

In meetings all day— let me know if you need anything. Go home early today.

Mr. Bateman

P.S. I’ll spruce up my apologizing skills.

You regard the note cautiously, raising your brow at it before you let yourself laugh a little. Was this a joke or had Nathan Bateman taken some criticism to heart (which is rumored to not exist). You fold the note up, and for some reason slip it into your bag.

The last thing that’s on your mind is that Nathan’s watching you. He sits in the dark at his monitors, leaning in closely. His eyes trace your figure on the screens intensely, watching as you read and read and read. He expects no reaction from you beside maybe throwing it in the trash. But then you laugh, and he watches you store it for safekeeping. A piece of him will go home with you. Nathan never thought he’d be jealous of a piece of paper, not when he seems to have the entire world at his fingertips.

—

He returns to his normal behavior after a week— partially because he thinks you settled in. And partially because…well he begrudgingly can admit to himself, in the comfort of his own mind, that he misses you. When you get to work the next Monday he’s sat on an observation table, examining what looks like a deconstructed robot brain.

You aren’t even able to open your mouth and say good morning before he’s talking to you.

“Are you sleeping okay?” He asks, his eyes appraising you intensely.

You stop in your tracks, regarding him as always, your expression pieced into that calm expression. So you’re back to normal, none of that fire. He expected it but that doesn’t keep him from feeling disappointed.

“Sir?”

“You look really fucking tired. Exhausted,” He tacts on for good measure.

Your spine goes completely rigid, your grip on your bag tightening. You are tired. So very tired. You work shitty hours for incredible money and then go home to take care of your younger sisters and mother. Dealing with Nathan is for them. For your sisters’ schooling, so they won’t feel left out when the other kids have the newest gadget or shoes. For your mother’s ever piling medical bills. It’s important that you don’t jeopardize something so precious.

“Is it affecting my work? Have I done something wrong?” You ask him softly.

“No— that’s not why I’m—“ He stutters before closing his mouth and starting anew. You’ve never seen him like this. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was flustered. But knowing Nathan, he’s just never asked a single employee he’s ever had if they’re alright. “I’m your boss, I worry about your well being. That’s what good bosses do.”

“Are you sure?” You ask evenly, eyes still trained on him.

“Am I—“ He stops, eyes wide for a fraction of a second before he bites away his smile. “Are you fucking with me?”

If he was looking at you so intentionally he would miss the way your mouth twitches. “I’m fine, Mr. Bateman. I have a lot of responsibilities, not only here but out there as well.”

“Out there?”

“The real world. Thank you for the concern, sir.”

For the second time, you’ve rendered Nathan speechless. That night he lays in bed thinking of you, like many nights prior. He turns your words over in his head time and time again. The real world. Do you think he doesn’t know what it’s like out there? He wonders how much research you’d done for the job. Nathan used his brain to get here, climbing and climbing. He hadn’t been born into this but his personality lent itself to such a conclusion. Nathan knows what his real world used to look like, though one day he hopes that any of his contraptions can help him forget. He wonders what your real world looks like.

There’s no ring on your finger, but you could have a partner. Kids? Another job? He pays you well enough for that to not be necessary. Maybe you volunteer at a puppy shelter. He could picture it. You in something other than your stuffy work clothes, a smile on your face as you drown in puppy breath and slobber.

He groans, rolling over in bed to plant his face deeply in the pillow. Maybe he can smother himself out of this. Thinking about puppies? He might as well be one, he’s practically lovesick if you have him thinking like this. When would he get used to feeling this way? His usual cynical thoughts feel like they’re being pillaged by a hoard of cupids.

He doesn’t even know if you feel the same. Being better for you is one thing, but what if there’s no payoff? What if he changes for you and you leave him high and dry? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He feels the back of his neck sweating and sits up.

Nathan’s been down this road before, it’s brought him his fortune and an insane work ethic. It’s all brought him sorrow he’ll never be able to escape. Being with his parents feels like a fever dream sometimes and other times he feels 6 again, like he’s drowning in their expectations and insults, trying to measure up. He’d given up eventually, once he realized that they would never love him the way parents should. Why try to do anything anyone wanted but himself when they could still treat him poorly for it?

He’s the way he is from his own indoctrination. He doesn’t know where he would be if he hadn’t convinced himself that he was the only person that truly matters.

But, now there’s you. You, who looks so soft, you that scratches an itch he didn’t even realize he had. You, that he wants to goad and prod and poke until you unleash all of yourself on him. He closes his eyes and lays back, envisioning you right here with him. He feels insane, his heart— his mind, his dick— are taking him through a whirlwind of emotions right now.

He palms himself through his boxers, eyes squeezing shut tighter than before as he tries to narrate. He pictures you in one of his white shirts, it’s fabric nearly see-through with the way it clings to your breasts. He grasps his length through his boxers letting out a heaving sigh. Fuck he wishes this was you.

If there’s anything that Nathan knows how to do its not only being smartest but the most imaginative. He’s been daydreaming for as long as he can remember. Universes with better outcomes— having worth, or loving parents or anyone for that matter. Anyone to be on his side. He imagined codes and synthetic body parts that live and breathe in front of him. He can surely imagine you, breathy and horny in his bed, jerking him off. He doesn’t care if it’s fucked up, or inappropriate. He wants you, and maybe this is the only way he can have you. He slides his boxers down, finally done teasing himself. Licking his palm, he grabs his cock, starts stroking and succumbs to the thought of you.

Another moan bubbles out of his throat. He can see your nipples through his shirt when you straddle him like this. Your thighs are soft against his own and he would reach for your free hand, thread his fingers through your own. Your hands are smaller than his, smooth and supple. And god, you’re stroking him just the way he likes it, the soft wet sound making pleasure shoot through his groin.

You’d overstimulate him wouldn’t you? With that clever mouth barely pulling up a grin, eyes full of fire as you stroke him past the point of pleasure. Would you make him watch? See the way your hands would grow slick and shiny with his cum as you kept pumping and pumping, pushing him to another release. Covering you both in him, until you’re too needy to keep toying with him. Nathan cums just as he’s imagining the feeling of you dragging your bare pussy against his sensitive cock. He whines and keens off the bed, the high singing in his veins. He swears he can almost imagine the way you would moan.

His eyes open, the spell broken. He’s alone, covered in his own spend, chest heaving like he just ran a 10k. He avoids his reflection when he walks into the bathroom to clean up. His loneliness spikes again and he heads to the kitchen, reaching for the first bottle he can find.

—

“You’re late,” He says stiffly, crossing his arms as he watches you cross the space to sit at your desk.

The day after he’d gotten off thinking of you he’d had the slightest difficulty looking at you. It quickly faded, he was too greedy. Too needy, if he’s being honest. He can’t get enough, he doesn’t know if he could ever say it but you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

You’re openly frazzled; your shirt isn’t tucked in, your hair is a little more frizzy than usual and you look as tired as ever. He regrets his biting tone immediately.

Even as you explain you’re moving, setting your to-go mug on the desk, fetching your calendar, booting up your computer. “I know, I’m sorry, Mr. Bateman. My sisters were less than cooperative this morning.”

Nathan turns completely away from the bins he’s been searching through, raising a brow at you in surprise, “Your sisters?”

“Yes— one is 7 the other is 14. The little made getting out of the house…difficult,” You murmur distractedly, eyes trained on your screen.

“Isn’t that your parents’ fucking job?”

His question snaps you back to the present— you hadn’t shared nearly as much as you could’ve. But you’d gone into this job wanting to be nameless and faceless. Memorable only for the quality of the work you do.

You shake your head, daring a quick glance in his direction that you immediately regret when your eyes meet his.“I realized that I’ve shared far too much about my personal life. I should work, Mr. Bateman.”

Nathan immediately understands your deflecting. How many times has he been asked by reporters and interviewers where his family is? Enough times that he’s had his publicist strike the topic from the acceptable lists. That was about all he was good for anyway, Nathan says what he wants when he wants.

He goes back to the task at hand— though now with you here he doesn’t quite remember what that was. A part…some sort of part that he needed. Wires? Screws? A metal plate? He sighs in frustration and leaves without another word.

Your gaze is on the door as soon as it shuts, making sure he’s gone. The tears that you’ve been biting back fall and you bury your face in your hands. Your youngest sister had begged and pleaded for you to stay warm in bed with her this morning. With your mother so sick, you’ve practically raised her yourself these last few years. It makes her needy, which you understand. But what she doesn’t understand is how delicate the balance you found in caring for your entire family is. Middle sister lacks just as much understanding, with heaps of attitude. She doesn’t want to snuggle with you or with younger sister. Mediating this entire situation is what made you late.

It feels like you’re cracking under the pressure but that isn’t an option, is it? As if the universe wants to make it clear, your computer chimes. It’s Nathan, asking you to come to his office.

—

He’d meant to go clear his head in his office and come back to get whatever part he was in need of. But, when he sat in his chair he was met with the sight of you hunched over your desk, presumably crying by the way your shoulders jerked every once and a while.

He’s pinging you before he can think better of it. He watches you read his message. You’re such an anomaly— you sit up immediately, reaching for some tissues and cleaning yourself up as if nothing happened. You even check yourself in the reflection of your computer, fidgeting with your hair, tucking in your shirt once you stand. As soon as you start out of the office he turns off his monitors, not one to be caught snooping around though it’s right and was clear in the contract. Maybe you’ve forgotten. Perhaps you don’t think your anything worth watching…Nathan would like to change that assumption.

“You pinged me, sir?”

How would he play this? He couldn’t admit that he just watched you cry.

“Trying my hand at this apologizing shit again. I— Nathan Bateman— am sorry for being insensitive. Like I said last time, I don’t know your life or you. Alright, how was that?”

“I would say a solid, 5/10, which is a 50% improvement.”

“Fuck me, you’re a tough crowd. What am I docked for? You know I’m all about perfection.”

“There was a lack of originality. And you omitted your middle name.”

It takes everything in Nathan not to giggle. The way the words come out of your mouth are so funny… or maybe he’s just obsessed. It could be both. “My middle name is classified information.”

“Does Wikipedia know that?” You ask, tilting your head in that uncanny way.

Nathan can’t hold in his laugh this time, running a hand over his beard, “You’re funnier than you look.”

Your mouth twitches, and you give him the smallest nod, “Thank you, sir. Is that all?”

He pretends to think about it. “This apology is feeling pretty one-sided to me.”

“I accept your apology, Mr. Bateman, thank you.”

“Accept something else,” He proposes, going out on a limb. Suddenly your stare is too intense, the room is too hot and small. What the fuck is he doing?

“What’s that?” You ask, as soft and sweet as ever.

“Dinner. Tomorrow,” He says simply.

“With you?”

Nathan ignores the twinge in his heart— your tone barely changed. If he wasn’t with you every single day, studying you, he wouldn’t even have noticed.

“I can invite the droids if you want. They’ll just stare at us while we eat.”

Your hand tightens around your planner. Dinner with Nathan…choosing to be around him? It seemed like as of late he was trying to be…more palatable. This could be an act of good faith. But, you have your sisters and mother to think about. You’ve given her nurse enough overtime hours in the last few weeks.

“Without getting too personal, I don’t think I’ll be able to swing it sir, I have to get home to my sisters as soon as possible.”

Yes, your family, that you never talk about. He could accommodate, what’s he the fucking boss for if he can’t?

“We’ll do it early.”

You sway a little as you think about this— that’s new, he thinks to himself, filing that information away for later.

“You’ve already got me apologizing, I can’t add saying please to the list of acceptable behaviors. I’ll lose my fucking edge.”

“How early?”

“3:30.”

“Alright, then, sir.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue , @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @kotaropuppy

#nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman #nathan bateman fanfiction #ex machina fanfiction #in plain sight #arson writes #not sfw

[sturniololoco]

Can’t Hate You pt 1

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) X Nathan Doe

Warnings: Cussing, hitting, mentions of SA later in the series(and no, it was not Nate), etc.

ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩

SLS/N’s POV

Today was the day that I was not looking forward to. All week I’ve been dreading this specific Saturday to come, and it’s unfortunately arrived.

Nathan Doe is coming to LA.

He’s my brother’s best friend, so they invited him to come stay a week over the summer.

But, me and Nate have never really gotten along all that well. I know this will sound petty, but something that happened in high school, that you just can’t forgive people for.

“Who’s excited?!?” Chris yells in the car on our way to the airport, putting his hands up in the air. Matt and Nick cheer in delight, having been waiting for this week for a long time.

“Why so his big ass head can get in my way all weekend?” I say sarcastically, sighing then looking out my window.

Nick covers his mouth as he laughs at my snarky remark. Matt shakes his head while looking at the road.

But Chris turns to me and says.

“SLS/N, I know you two don’t get a long very well, but at least try this week.” He says, giving me a pleading look.

I glance at him for a brief second before looking out the window again, not responding. He sighs before saying,

“please sis? For me?”

I look back to see him giving puppy eyes. I roll my own before muttering a soft fine before we pulled up at the airport.

Nick and I stayed behind, filming Matt and Chris practically skipping through the airport corridors when they saw Nate.

“His head is still just as big as I remember,” I say to Nick and the camera he held for Wednesday's vlog.

Nick laughs out loud, shuts the camera off, then walks over to greet Nate. He gives him a side hug once he manages to pry off my other two brothers.

Instead of giving him a hug, instead of saying hello, instead of making eye contact with him at all, I stand behind Nick, looking at the ground, wishing this would hurry up so I could go home.

"SLS/N," he says sternly, nodding in my direction.

I gave him a tight-lipped smile, making eye contact for about half a second, then went back to looking at the ground.

"Wow. awkward!" Matt says, Nate just rolls his eyes and plays it off. I however began walking to the car.

-

I sit in the way back of the van, both headphones in, drowning out the boy's conversation. Nick and Nate were in the back while Matt and Chris were in their usual seats.

Around 15 minutes later, I felt a sharp tap on the side of my leg. I look up to see Nate reaching back behind the seats to get my attention. I pull one headphone out.

"We're stopping at McDonalds, what do you want to eat?" He asks, looking annoyed.

"Don't fucking touch me," I say, hating the fact that he feels like he could touch me.

Not after what he did.

"Don't be a child, SLS/N. Just use your words and tell your brother what you want." He says, using a sarcastic baby voice near the end.

I roll my eyes and mumble a quiet,

"I'm not hungry."

Nick rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh, then rolls his window down to order.

-

The boys were filming the rest of their vlog while they ate, but I decided not to. I stayed in my room, scrolling through my Instagram.

There was a soft knock on my door.

After saying come in, I'm met with the eyes of Nate. He tosses a 6 piece chicken nugget box into my lap, then sets a small tea on my night stand.

My favorite.

"I said I wasn't hungry." I lie, turning my nose up at the food. I secretly wanted to crush 10 boxes of them, but he didn't need to know.

"You need to eat." He says walking back towards the door.

He goes to close the door but opens it a crack, saying,

"I better not see any of those in the trash can."

He then walks out leaving me alone with a box of chicken nuggets, a sweet tea, and a blushing face.

Why am I blushing? Why did he care if I ate or not? How did he know my order?

All of these thoughts only make my face redder, causing me to get frustrated.

He doesn't care about you. Not anymore.

I lay back into my pillows, taking a sip of sweet tea, trying not to think about the boy who just walked out of the room.

Guys, it gets juicy I swear! The intro is always the most boring part. But I think y'all r gonna love this one.

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo sister x reader #sturniolo sister #nathan doe x reader #nathan doe #nathan doe smut

[otdiaftg]

The King's Men - Chapter Thirteen

Day: Saturday, March 9th / 10th* Time: 5:35 AM EST

DiMaccio comes up behind them and offers Nathan's axe. Nathan puts it to Nathaniel's neck next so he can carve shallow lines in Nathaniel's burned face with his cleaver. "Maybe we'll do both," he says, casual like he is debating the next day's weather. "Skin you an inch or two at a time and carve the flesh out from underneath. If we do it right, you might last all night. Patrick, have them toss us down the blowtorch. It should still be in the drawer by the oven." "No," Nathaniel says, but DiMaccio goes to the base of the stairs to call up. "Lola," Nathan says, and Lola comes immediately to his side. She isn't smiling anymore. The look she turns on Nathaniel is venomous and she presses careful fingers to her bruising neck. Nathaniel wants to take some satisfaction in having wounded her, but all he feels is fear. Nathan doesn't look up from his son's face but says, "Would you like the pleasure of crippling him?" "No," Nathaniel says again, but Lola crouches out of sight. Nathaniel kicks his legs out to the other side away from her. The axe isn't sharp enough to cut his throat open without serious effort, so he ignores the way the weight of it makes him gag and struggles as best he can. Nathan tolerates it until Nathaniel actually grabs him, and then he lays his cleaver across the bridge of Nathaniel's nose. "If you do not sit the fuck still I will gouge your eyes out." Nathaniel freezes, but he is trembling so hard it is a wonder he doesn't shake his father off. "Please," he whispers, unable to stop himself. "Please don't." "Can I?" Lola asks, excited all over again. "We'll slit your ankles, then your knees," Nathan tells Nathaniel. "And if you try to crawl away I will take your arms from you too. Do you understand?" DiMaccio is back. He sets the blowtorch down at Nathan's side. Nathaniel wants to scream, but if he screams now he'll really lose it and he won't be able to stop. His eyes burn, maybe from the blood, maybe from panic held at bay by desperation. He clings to what remains of his self-control with bloody fingertips, knowing it won't do him any good but unable to let go. "Please," he begs again. "Just let me go, just let me go, I'm not—"

Art used with permission by Jeannemaybedarc. Thank you @jeannemaybedarc!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #tkm #the kings men #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #palmetto state university #psu foxes #andreil #on this day in aftg #otdiaftg #palmetto state foxes #otdi all for the game #nora sakavic #the foxes #on this day in all for the game #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #coach wymack #betsy dobson #abby winfield #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds #cw torture #artists #jeannemaybedarc

[anothertransauthor]

hiya !! this is a bit of an odd request but is there any chance you'd be willing to write pickles x reader , where the reader has shied away from alcohol / substances all their life until they start embracing them after becoming close with pickles ? all good if not , thank you and have a great day !! o7

Oooh i kinda adore this trope ngl. keep coming with these bangers im so excited!

Only With You

Summary: Dethklok's newest babysitter has been observed to be quite the dildo. They never want to drink with them, smoke, or generally party with them in a significant way. Pickles opens his own investigation into them and starts to genuinely enjoy the time they spend alone. Maybe he'll lower their walls, and open them to some new mind-altering experiences.

Warning: obvious drug and alcohol use, as a general pot user I'm going to be as specific as possible. I'm going to make this as fluffy as possible but there might be some suggestive content. Reader has they/them pronouns

Word count: 2345

"What are you? Schome kind of fucking schquare?" Murderface quipped, a mischievous glint in his eye as he nudged Nathan playfully. "Yeah, come on, don't be a dildo," Nathan retorted, his deep voice rumbling with frustration as he batted Will away from him.

Their banter filled the cramped bar, the air heavy with the scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting a dim glow on the worn-out furniture and peeling wallpaper. As the tension between Murderface and Nathan escalated, Toki attempted to intervene, his gentle voice drowned out by Skwisgaar's disdainful remarks about both of them being a "lady dildos." The atmosphere grew increasingly tense, their argument blending with the other patrons' raucous laughter and clinking glasses.

Feeling overwhelmed, y/n glanced around the bar, a headache forming from the noise. Just as they were about to suggest leaving, Pickles came to the rescue, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

"I know a quiet spot; let's dip while they're distracted," Pickles suggested, his voice low and inviting. The air was heavy with the scent of cigarette smoke and distant laughter, creating a hazy ambiance that enveloped them both.

Y/n hesitated, a flicker of concern crossing their features. "I don't know, Charles might kill me for leaving them by themselves," they replied, their voice tinged with uncertainty.

Pickles waved off their concern with a casual shrug. "He'll get over it as long as they don't drive. Then again, they wouldn't leave without me. So therefore, we can hang out in a cool alleyway while they drink themselves to the ground."

With a sigh, y/n bit their lip, their mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Despite their hesitation, the allure of escape beckoned, tempting them to leave the chaos of the bar behind.

After much internal debate, y/n finally nodded and walked with Pickles into the alley. It was nothing spectacular, but the relative quietness offered a welcome respite from the clamor of the bar. The cool wind brushed against their skin, causing goosebumps to rise on their arms.

"So uh...this is where you run off to when they get loud," y/n remarked, their breath forming wispy clouds in the frosty air. "Shoulda known to check the alley."

"Aww, you look for me?" Pickles teased, his voice laced with amusement as he pulled a joint from his pocket.

Y/n watched in awe as Pickles took a long drag, the smoke swirling around him like a halo. The air was thick with the scent of cannabis, earthy and pungent, mingling with the sharp bite of the night air. "For as much as you brag about being rich, you think your lighter could use an upgrade?" y/n teased, their voice laced with amusement.

"Eh... this lighter and I have a history," Pickles chuckled softly, leaning against the cold brick wall. "I smoked my first ever blunt with this Zippo... would you believe I stole it from my dad?"

As Pickles continued to talk about other crazy stories, y/n found themselves drawn in by his easy charm and effortless charisma. They watched as his fingers traced over the worn metal, the flickering flame casting dancing shadows on the alley wall.

"Yeah...I believe it," y/n replied, their voice soft with admiration. "So you've been smoking a long time, huh?"

"For as long as I can remember, y'know, before I got into the other shit," Pickles admitted, nudging a crate beside him. "You've been standing a while; you should sit."

Their body moved instinctively, gravitating towards Pickles as they settled onto the crate beside him. With a sigh of relief, y/n felt the tension begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of calmness in Pickles' presence.

The silence between them was almost palpable, the only sound the soft rustle of the wind and the occasional clink of cans on the ground. Despite their attempts to enjoy the tranquility, y/n couldn't shake the nagging feeling of restlessness that gnawed at their mind.

"Wow..." they laughed awkwardly, their fingers fidgeting with their sleeves. "A whole five minutes without being asked to partake...must be a new record."

"No sense in pushing it; it's a waste of good pot," Pickles remarked casually, his demeanor relaxed and nonchalant. "Besides, the first high will be shit if you don't know what you're getting into."

Y/n nodded in agreement, their gaze drifting down to their hands. "You just make it look so easy..."

Pickles tilted his head, the crimson strands of his hair falling over his shoulder as he regarded y/n with a knowing smile. "Make what look easy?"

"Everything!" y/n blurted out, their words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. "Just...everything you do is effortless. You make it look so easy to talk to people and operate under pressure like nothing affects you. I want to relax, and I want the rest of the band to like me...and I shouldn't be rambling right now, but it's like I can't stop myself because my brain just won't—"

"Shut up?" Pickles interrupted gently.

Y/n blushed brightly, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "S-sorry..."

"No...like your brain just won't shut up? I get it. Hell, why do you think I smoke this stuff?" Pickles reassured them, nudging them with his shoulder. "It's not easy being so laid back; it takes practice."

"Practice?" y/n echoed, their curiosity piqued.

Pickles nodded, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Gotta practice not worrying what other people think. I'm fucking famous; who cares what nobody at the bar has to say? It's vain, I know, but it works. It's easy to be friends with people when you can shut off that little nag in the back of your head. You just have to stop assuming people are out to get you."

Y/n nodded in understanding, their thoughts swirling as they absorbed Pickles' words of wisdom. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, the silence punctuated only by the soft sound of their laughter and the occasional drag of the joint. Despite the cold, y/n felt a warmth spreading through them, a sense of peace settling over their troubled mind. As they sat side by side, y/n couldn't help but admire Pickles' easygoing demeanor and the way he seemed to effortlessly navigate through life's challenges. For a moment, they forgot about their worries and insecurities, lost in the simple pleasure of his company. And as they took a hesitant puff of the joint, feeling the smoke fill their lungs and the tension melting away, y/n realized that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

Their eyes wandered over Pickles, taking in every detail with an almost reverent appreciation. Each freckle, every smile line, and the faint scars that adorned his skin told a story of a life well-lived, adding to his allure in the dimly lit alleyway. Despite the chill in the air, the warmth emanating from Pickles enveloped them, comforting and reassuring like a soft embrace.

As they sat there, a thought lingered in their mind: why was everything about him just so perfect? His casual demeanor, his effortless charm—it all seemed to come naturally to him, effortlessly captivating those around him.

Caught off guard by Pickles' quizzical expression, y/n felt a blush creep into their cheeks as they realized they had been caught staring. But Pickles' playful demeanor quickly put them at ease, his snicker breaking the tension that hung in the air.

"You see something you like?" he cheesed lightly, dramatically waggling his brows.

"No- I mean yes- I mean- shit.... uh-"

"Relax, I'm messing with you," Pickles chuckled, his voice laced with amusement. "I gotta teach you how to flirt."

"Heh...um, actually, I was maybe wondering if I could try..." y/n trailed off, their gaze flickering towards the burning joint in Pickles' hand.

"Holy shit, you actually wanna smoke with me?" Pickles exclaimed, genuine surprise coloring his tone.

"Well...kinda. Maybe it won't be so overwhelming if it's with you..." y/n admitted, their nerves beginning to dissipate in Pickles' reassuring presence.

"I'll take care of ya, don't worry," Pickles reassured them, passing the dutchie with a gentle hand. "Don't try to show off, ok? Baby hits..."

After calming their shaking hands, y/n carefully placed the joint between their lips, their senses heightened as they inhaled deeply. The taste was harsh, earthy, and unfamiliar, causing their shoulders to tense with each choppy cough.

"Deep breath. You're gonna choke no matter what, you got virgin lungs. 'S normal," Pickles reassured them, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"It tastes like dirt..." y/n grimaced, their discomfort evident in their expression.

"Well, it's weed; it's gonna taste bad," Pickles shrugged, his easygoing demeanor soothing y/n's nerves. "Take one more, then pass it back."

With a nod of determination, y/n took another deep breath, the smoke swirling around them in ethereal patterns. Despite the initial discomfort, a sense of calm washed over them, easing the tension in their shoulders and allowing them to relax fully in Pickles' company.

Pickles extinguished the joint with a flick of his wrist, the ember sputtering out as he tucked the carton back into his pocket. Leaning back against the cool brick wall, he regarded Y/n with a curious expression. "So, short stuff, how do you feel?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine interest. Y/n raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. "You're one to talk," they scoffed, a small smile playing at their lips. "I feel…slow, but in a good way. Like, I can finally think clearly, funnily enough."

"Yeah?" Pickles raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Yeah...is this how you feel constantly?" y/n returned the question, genuinely curious about Pickles' experience.

"More or less," Pickles snorted, kicking around some cans on the ground with a lazy gesture. "I could get used to this," y/n mused, a sense of contentment settling over them like a warm blanket. "It feels…easier to talk as if a barrier was temporarily moved to the storage room of my brain. This is nice. Thanks, Pickles." "Hey, any time," Pickles replied, a genuine smile gracing his features. "You remind me a lot about myself, actually."

Y/n tilted their head curiously, they scooted closer to Pickles, craving his warmth in the chilly night air. "How so?" they asked, their voice soft and curious. Pickles paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he considered his response. "I used to worry about how everyone perceived me," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I was always so…strung up, like the world was out to get me." He chuckled softly, the sound rough and raspy in the stillness of the alley. "I know I'm nothing but a pampered, rich airhead," he admitted, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet y/n's eyes. "But I know this job keeping us out of trouble isn't exactly the easiest. If no one else is on your team, you can relax knowing that the world's best drummer is." Y/n felt a flutter in their chest, their cheeks flushing as they met Pickles' gaze in the dim lighting. His words were simple, yet they held a profound depth of meaning that resonated with them. "Pickles, I—" they started, their words catching in their throat as they struggled to articulate the whirlwind of emotions. They leaned away slightly, suddenly self-conscious about intruding on his personal space. But before they could retreat too far, Pickles grinned cheesily, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "Geez…you really are the coolest," they blurted out, a shy smile tugging at the corners of their lips. Pickles' grin widened, his laughter echoing off the walls of the alley. "You think?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

The air between them crackled with anticipation as y/n struggled to find the right words, their gaze locked with Pickles' in an unspoken exchange of longing and desire. In that moment, everything else faded away—the noise of the city, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, suspended in time. Pickles waited with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he silently urged y/n to speak their truth. He could see the turmoil in their eyes, the raw vulnerability laid bare, and he felt a surge of tenderness wash over him.

Finally, y/n took a deep breath, their voice trembling slightly as they found the courage to voice their feelings. "Everything about you has always been cool," they began, their words soft and hesitant. "I wish I could say I was jealous, but…I don't think that's it." A flicker of understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken attraction that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. Pickles' heart soared with a newfound sense of hope, his gaze never wavering from y/n's as he silently encouraged them to continue.

"Oh?" he prompted, his voice gentle but filled with anticipation. He knew what they were about to say, could feel it in the way their gaze lingered on him, and he silently willed them to take the leap. Y/n hesitated for a moment, their mind racing with a new uproar of butterflies. But then, with a surge of determination, they pushed aside their doubts and fears, allowing their heart to lead the way. "How do I say this…" they trailed off, their voice barely above a whisper. "Other than I just don't want tonight to end…" And in that moment, the weight of their confession hung heavy in the air, the tension between them palpable. But before either of them could say another word, Pickles closed the distance between them, his lips capturing Y/n's in a tender kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as they melted into each other, the world fading away until nothing was left but the warmth of their embrace. And as they pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, y/n felt a sense of peace settle over them, knowing they had finally found the courage to speak their truth. "Me neither," Pickles whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and affection. "Let's make tonight last forever."

______________________________________________________________

ok that took a really really long time. now time to go back into my writer whole. Leave more requests for me :DD

EDIT: HI so for some fucking reason in the translation from docs to tumblr, half of the fucking fic was just OMITTED. HOW DID I NOT NOTICE UGHHHHH im so sorry yall if the pacing felt weird. thats what i get for not proof reading before i post but i was SO EXCITED to have another bomb fic doneeeeee.

#metalocalypse #dethklok #pickles the drummer #x reader #pickles x reader #metalocalypse x reader #dethklok x reader #mtl #mtl x reader #dethklok pickles

[stvrni0lo]

𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐬

nathan doe x reader (fluff)

summary: in an attempt to bake at a sleepover, you and nate forget to check your baked goods in your sleep-deprived state

warnings/notes: none! lmk if i missed anything

requested?: yes! number 18 “failed cooking/baking attempt” from my actions prompt list

> > >

You and Nate always found a way to make your casual dates more interesting. Whether it be making up random games to play, or watching shitty movies to make fun of them, you guys always ended up having fun.

Today, it was baking. At 1 AM.

You should’ve been sleeping, but upon rolling around and thrashing in the covers uncomfortably, you decided sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight.

Nate knew that too. Which is why he suggested baking in the first place.

Flour covered the entire countertop as you and Nate desperately rolled balls of cookie dough onto a baking tray. The mess in the kitchen was too much to bear, but you tried to ignore it.

“I really hope these turn out good,” he said excitedly, jumping on the balls of his feet.

You had never really baked from scratch before, but you didn’t want to rain on his parade.

“Of course they will. Trust the process, Nathaniel,” you said mockingly.

You grabbed the tray and placed it into the preheated oven, turning the timer on for 10 minutes. You didn’t have high hopes but seeing how eager Nate was, you couldn’t help but hold out for his sake. Maybe they’d turn out alright.

Nate crouched down as he stared through the glass of the oven. You giggled at the sight. His eyes were wide and glossy as he stared into the warm light, watching the cookies rise slowly.

“They won’t bake any faster if you watch them, babe,” you said, ruffling his hair from where you stood above him.

He caught your hand in his as he held onto it, using it as leverage to help him stand up. He swayed your arms side to side as he smiled giddily at you. The white light of the kitchen illuminated his features beautifully. His insane bone structure looked sharper than usual.

“Thanks for this,” you said, your head leaning on his shoulder.

His arm came to wrap around you as he leaned his head on top of yours.

“Any time. Plus it was an excuse to get free cookies.”

You both chuckled as you leaned against the island, letting the seconds tick by in silence. In all honesty making the batter had tired you out, and your eyelids seemed to be drooping already.

“Hey sleepy-head,” said Nate, shaking you gently. His hand caressed your hair out of the way as he watched you groggily open your eyes.

“Hm?” you said.

“Do you smell that?”

Your eyes widened as you realized you had left them in too long. 10 minutes was set as a precaution, but you had meant to take them out earlier to check on them.

Of course you never ended up doing that because your boyfriend’s shoulder was just so comfortable. You could fall asleep on him every single time without fail. He always said he enjoyed the fact that you felt safe enough to fall asleep so easily around him.

“Shit!” you exclaimed as you grabbed some oven mitts and dragged the tray out of the oven.

The smoke billowed out as you dropped it onto the hob. They weren’t burnt, but they were as hard as rocks.

Nate knocked on them with his knuckles, wincing at the sharpness and heat of them.

“Wow those are bad,” he said. His shoulders slumped slightly as he rubbed your back.

“I really wanted cookies,” he mumbled.

You wrapped an arm around his waist as you rested your head on him once again.

“How about for now we go cuddle and sleep - we can try again tomorrow?”

Nate hummed in agreement, his head nodding quickly.

You had started to walk towards his bedroom, holding his hand as you pulled him along. Nate, however, picked you up bridal style as he made his way to the bed.

“Could hardly call those baked goods - they were more like baked bads,” he said as he grimaced at the image of them.

You giggled as you rested your head on his shoulder as he carried you down the hallway.

“Nate, what the fuck does that even mean.”

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@dwntwn-strnlo

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@sunshinewwx

@gwenlore

@gabbylovesreading

@ssturniolo

@opheliaofficial07

@stargirlv0id

#nathan doe #nathan doe imagine #nathan doe x reader #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #stvrni0lo #the sturniolos

[jamiesfootball]

A not-as-long addition to the Ted Lasso: Coach Shaped or Dad Shaped Thesis

When it comes to Ted wildly fluctuating between being Coach Shaped and Dad Shaped with the people around him, Jamie isn’t the only one who had trouble distinguishing what side of the stick was swinging for him. Nate struggled with it too.

Nate’s is a comedic introduction but one that explains him perfectly- he’s high strung, anal retentive, lacks self confidence, is afraid to speak out, and he (rightfully) assumes he’s such a non-person that no one knows his name (which is an underdog trope in media, but a self-fulfilling prophecy in real life, but I digress.

“What was that? Sorry I have a hard time listening to people who don’t believe in themselves. Now is this plan going to work?”

So here comes Ted with his people skills and human decency and he clocks Nate pretty quickly. It’s not long before he’s giving Nate the same Ted-isms he gives the boys on the team. It’s very Coach of him. But to Nate it’s not that simple. It’s Personal Attention, and it’s falling like rain after forty years of drought. It’s clearly the first time in a long time that anyone’s put any effort into Nate - including Nate.

And don’t get me started on Nate’s age, because the actor is past 40 and the thought of Nate working as a kitman for what was likely fucking…..years, so close to his dream job but so irrelevant to the people around him. Going home to his parents and whichever sibling-with-kids. Taking all the little jabs from his dad on the chin. His mother being sweet but placating in regards to his dad’s dismissals. Having nothing to celebrate with them that isn’t a holiday or birthday, because he’s not done anything with himself worth being proud of.

He borrowed his dad’s suit to the gala, and Ted took one look at it and went ‘that’s not good enough for you. Let’s sort this out’

His own dad was fine with Nate not trying- in that he withholds all hid expectations and then judges Nate when he fails to meet them. But then there’s Ted, and his expectations of Nate are sky high, clearly spoken, and he wants to help Nate get there.

So yeah, to Nathan Shelley Ted Lasso was very very Dad Shaped.

Nate finally got his big Want - becoming one of the coach’s - but it’s afterwards that things spiraled, and it’s entirely because from Nathan’s pov he saw Ted’s affection drying up. There was this guy who spent a whole year talking and building him up, and then all the sudden he peeks behind him and no one’s holding the bicycle seat. Ted’s still down the street and he’s looking the other way- at Roy, at Jamie, at Sam. So Nate doubles-down on what he thinks made him Great in the first place- his sharp mind and cutting analytics. His ability to not be too impressed by the professional athletes around him. But he keeps doing it Wrong somehow, because Ted isn’t looking at him with approval. He’s just watching Nate, and occasionally shaking his head like he’s disappointed.

It’s so Nate’s Dad Shaped he could scream.

Ted gave him a whistle - a loud signifier of power on the field - and then when Nate wasn’t looking, he replaced it with an indoor whistle. Because Nate kept using the loud whistle too loudly. Because Nate doesn’t understand when and where to use it, just like he doesn’t know yet how and when he should use his own powers as a leader.

Roy doesn’t even need a whistle. Roy comes back and just shouts ‘whistle!’ and it’s the same if not more effective than Nate’s whistle ever was. No one had to give Roy power.

So yeah. Ted Lasso built him up the way his dad never did, and then turned away like his dad always did the second Nate did something wrong. Of course he was Dad Shaped to Nate. How could he not be?

This, if anything, is almost tangible proof that Nate never played team sports as a kid, and it’s heartbreaking because it means Nate missed all the signs in season one that Ted never set out to be a substitute father to Nate.

Ted was Coaching him, deliberately, to join him as a Coach.

He looks at Nate and he sees someone whip-smart and brimming with potential and he doesn’t think twice about testing him out. Springing questions like pop quizzes, making moments for Nate to step up and shine. He arguably doesn’t even see how much Nate is struggling past a surface level (he never sees how Nate interacts with his family). Ted has one true victory at the end of season one, and it’s that he got Nate up to Assistant Coach. And don’t forget that for Ted being a Coach is his life’s work, he loves it.

He very likely did not imagine that that wouldn’t be enough for some people.

And so throughout season two we have this dissolution between Ted and Nate. Nate keeps waiting for Ted to step back up to the plate and guide him; and Ted keeps waiting for Nate to figure out what Coach Nate looks like. Of course Ted won’t step in, just the same as he wouldn’t step on Beard’s toes. The same that he’ll remark to Roy that he’s supposed to be coaching Jamie too, but ultimately won’t step in the middle of them working out their (many many) issues. He respects them all as Coach too much to interfere.

The tragedy of it all is that they both missed the forest for the trees. They were so focused on the roles they could play in each other’s lives, that it wasn’t until the dust settled that the actual role they played in each other’s lives became apparent.

They were friends.

Not the same way that Beard and Ted are friends, which is all friendship wrapped in a blanket of “Coach” “Coach”. Not friendship the way that Ted is still having to pull Roy to the side and Coach him on Coaching, while Roy keeps Ted abay by being miles ahead at being a well-adjusted person who understands themself. But all friendship isn’t meant to be the same, and what Ted and Nate had was built on its own foundation of respect and genuinely liking the other person.

Theirs is a friendship break up, and it hurts to watch.

#nathan shelley #ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #sort of #ted lasso meta

[nanoa1foryou]

You know how I was talking about there being so much blood earlier today? Hah. Hahhah. Ha. Ummm.

So. That Socioenvy music video…

#I was talking about the iron llung trailer earlier. don’t worry #but jeeeeeeesus christ what the fuck nathan #natewantstobattle #nathan sharp #natewantstobtl #nwtb

[kelin-is-writing]

FUCKING BET!

I’m going to research the aspect of the idea, I know where I wanna take it and it’s for Touya not Dabi cause my idea wouldn’t for that man but for touya yes.

eagerly waiting for it regardless 😋💜

#kelin responds #answered #nathan sharp wife #god... talking so much about him made me want to write but like i gotta go to sleep and tomorrow i'm at work like– #*inhales deeply* *exhausted* fuck adulthood fr... #8 yrs old me was so stupid for waiting eagerly to become adult #because now what???? i barely have time to see my parents and my brother 💀

[yazthebansheek]

day 6.draw one of the Crp clowns/jesters! + Headcanons! (Candy Pop)

He is 7’2

Loves eating candy.

Will have psychotic sugar rushes sometimes and then pass tf out.

Yk he has that man spread ass sit bro💀💀

Honestly really childish 

Long ass tongue…

Ayo what can that tongue do 🤨😏

Def likes Jason in that way.

Bisexual…AND BIPOLAR!!!!

ADHD. 

Likes to annoy, scare, and piss people off for fun.

Careless, reckless, ruthless and sadistic. 

Masochist?

Prankster + jokester 

Kind of narcissistic / over confident.

Kinda hard to offend/anger.

Doesn’t like people seeing him in his night terror form.

100% horny 80% of the time.

He doesn’t really care about gender. If he can fuck he will fuck.

Whore. absolute fucking slut. Cock slut. Loves pussy. Loves cock. Sluttiest thot in this motherfucking bitch. Cunty thotty slutty whore.💀💀💀💀💀 (I can’t take myself seriously bro)

Doesn’t wear make-up. That’s legit js his face.

Sharp ahh teeth like boy-

Waaaaayyyyy too over protective of his sister, Candy Cane.

One of the best bff’s you could ever have, Nathan is Lucky.

Ofc his bestie is Nathan, it’s literally Canon!!!!<3

Kinda gets jealous easily? Mostly when he doesn’t get attention or gets attention absolutely stolen from him.

Loves to be the center of attention 

He uses black magic, dark magic, demonic magic, voodoo, witchcraft, whatever cursed/dark magic you can think of, he does it or has done it.

List of things he loves: #3. Jason. #2. His sister. #1. His hair!!!!

He loves his hair more than anything, a bitch even think about touching his hair he will backhand them so motherfucking hard they forget how to speak.

He doesn’t really like judge angels. Why? Because most things related to a fucking angel, he hates. He has never really met her though so….He just always judges a book by its cover honestly. 

Him and LJ fight a lot, but they can get along together sometimes.

His father figure? Oh hell yeah, y’all know it’s Papa Grande. Fuck slenderman, ain’t nobody like that old bitch.

Upside down crosses everywhere. <3

He likes bright colors.

Jason will have this man in a corset sometimes like holy shit???!

He’s a mini fashionista and also Jason’s model/inspiration sometimes.

Coming in contact (touch) with some holy objects or angels will cause him 3rd degree burns😘🩷  and he just doesn’t really like holy water, but it won’t burn him.

Bibles and some holy shit makes him weaker, but in a more painful way. Which usually makes this man screech in pain<3333 I’m such a sadist 🥰😇

He doesn’t like angels or people in most religions 

He likes to play dress up/other games with sally, sometimes LJ and Jason will join too! 

Whenever playing Alice in wonderland with Sally, he’s the Cheshire Cat.

He’s a top obvi!!!

he can enter and exit through mirrors as he pleases. 

He can teleport

He/They/it

Likes to hang around the pasta kids because they lure in unsuspecting worried adults (aka free prey for Candy ;))

Candy, Pop, Poppy, Night, Poppyseed, C.pop, whore, Hatsune Miku, Raspberry fairy demon, Hatsune Miku demon jester, fairy princess jester demon, Slut, bestie, clown, raspberry, creepy blue clown bitch, night terror, night terrors, cluster demon, the collector, emperor of the dark, dark emperor, the dark omen, demon from the abyss, abyss demon.

He can steal other people’s powers, supernatural strength and speed, he can jump high, adapt to his environment quickly, really good sharp senses, enhanced visuality, and can phase through walls (ghosting)

Manipulation, teleportation, dark architect, power gifting, mind control, mastermind, nightmare manipulation, shapeshifting, magic (mentioned b4), levitation, invisibility, soul absorption

#yaz april challenge #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #art #creepypasta art #artwork #digital art #candy pop #creepypasta au #creepypasta fanart #creepy pasta #ask creepypasta #creepypasta ask blog #candy pop crp #candy pop x jason the toymaker #CandyPop #candy pop art #candy pop creepypasta #creepypasta characters #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta hcs #night terrors #creepypasta drawing #OmniElle #possessed hatsune miku candy pop

[aledethanlast]

Seriously, how are those FBI agents doing in that Baltimore hotel for the David Wesninski AU? They signed up for none of this, yet here they are, dealing with the craziest family drama any of them have ever witnessed. Honestly, their faces when it gets confirmed that Wymack is the identical twin of this serial killer must be priceless

The first thing you need to understand about fbi ops is, you don't just write those up on a whim. Theres investigations and plans and preparations. They were prepared for the Hatfords to push the agreed boundaries and kill against orders. That's why they were contacted in the first place. They were prepared for the cleanup, and the inquiries, and to throw the Hatfords under the bus as an excuse to begin what was sure to be a years-long investigation into Nathan Wesninski's network.

The second thing you need to understand about law enforcement operations is that you're either going shit shit shit shit shit when things are going according to plan and fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck when they aren't.

So, on the whole? It was a shitty night. The whole thing got pushed back by like two hours because of an alleged break in, and then by three more hours after a fight with op command on how much can they look over the police's shoulder without tipping their hand. And then it all goes down, and there's corpses everywhere, and it's all gone to shit...

And then Junior is on the front lawn.

Which, first of all, how are you not dead? Rhetorical question, clearly Nathan tried. Second, no seriously, how are you not dead. The fuck you mean it's a secret bitch I will [redacted]-

But it's fine. It's fine. Actually, hold on, this is great. They get to skip years of investigation all it costs is some witness protection. The kid seems like a real shithead but once they get him talking...

And then Towns says "We gotta talk about his team."

Oh right, them. "Once they calm down we'll give them a basic rundown of what's happening and send them home. Considering what they said so far it doesn't sound like they know much."

But Towns shakes his head. "You don't know who they are, do you?" Browning raises a brow. "Palmetto State Foxes?" Nope. "Edgar Allen. The ravens." Nope. "Kevin Day?"

That does sound familiar, but Browning knows he doesn't get the points for that. "Sure, one of the other players, no?" He never cared for exy, personally, and while he gets that people get excited about college sports he's always believed in some healthy iconoclasm. He shakes his head.

Towns grumbles. Then out of nowhere, he says, "Call Suzie."

"What?"

"Call her. Right now. Put her on speaker."

She should be at lunch, so Browning obliges, but he really doesn't see what his teenage daughter has to do with...

Click. Suzie's high, confident voice. "Daddy?"

"Hey Suzie, it's Freddie, your dad's pal from work," Towns says.

"Oh. Um. Hey?" Suzie sounds nervous suddenly. "Is my dad okay?"

They both suddenly realize what this call must look like, especially after Browning hadn't come home last night, and they both rush to reassure her that he's fine. "We've just had a long night," he reassures her. "No, I'm just calling because...hey Freddie, why am I calling?"

It's Towns' turn to raise an eyebrow, as if to say watch this. "Nah, I was just wanted a reminder, what's your husband's name again?"

Silence. A quick, sharp inhale, and in his mind's eye Browning can see his daughter's eyes focus like an eagles. "Well, first of all, it's future husband, because daddy says that the law says I have to be 18 to get married..."

Ohhhhh.

Fuck.

"But his name is Kevin Day. He's the world's best exy player, even after he had an accident last year. A lot of people abandoned him but I'm never gonna because when a mom and a dad love each other very much..."

A thousand dinner conversations run through Browning's head line an electric current as he opens his phone browser and searches the name. The results look nothing like the bruised shell of a man his colleagues have stuck in a hotel room, but they look like every poster on Suzie's wall. A terrible, terrible thought strikes him. "What about his friend. The, um, the short one."

The response is automatic. "Neil is cute too I guess. There aren't as many good posters of him, but Jessica from biology did her binder from shots she printed from youtube. Her dad yelled at her for wasting the ink."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

#david wesninski au #aftg #browning gets back home from work to find his daughter ready to murder him for arresting Jessica's husband #browning: I thought we didn't even like jessica? #suzie: WE DON'T BUT IM GONNA MEET KEVIN AT THEIR ENGAGEMENT PARTY AND HOW DOES THAT WORK IF HE'S IN JAIL

[melodygatesauthor]

Centerpiece

Nathan Bateman X f!Reader

Blurb 11 for Melody's 2023 Ficversary Celebration

NSFW below the cut

Nathan had your ankles spread and tied to a table in the middle of the office where everyone could walk by and see you on display. He called it the ‘centerpiece’; a punishment to humiliate the staff who couldn’t do their jobs right. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get in trouble on purpose for this ‘punishment’.

“Again?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Either you’re the dumbest fucking employee in my entire company, or you have the neediest little cunt.”

“I’m sorry, I messed up, I–”

“Just shut the fuck up, my god, the begging is so boring honey. Really, it’s annoying.” He said without a hint of humor.

You closed your mouth immediately, watching Nathan grab a pad of the 4x6 lined post-it notes and start writing something on it. He slapped the paper over your cunt, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“W-what’s it say?” You asked, trying to arch your pelvis so you could read the paper.

“It says ‘dumb cunt’,” he smirked, looking pleased with his joke, “get it? No, you wouldn’t get it, cause you’re a–”

“I get it!” You said with more attitude than Nathan cared for.

“Wow, well…I was going to let you off easy but now…now it’s gonna get real shitty for you,” he leaned over you, brushing his crotch against your paper-covered cunt, bringing his lips to your ear. “There’s only one way you’re getting down from this table.” He looked into your eyes, “if you soak this sticky note, I’ll let you down, otherwise, you’re gonna sit right there like that until morning. Got it?” 

“Soak it? H-how?”

He shrugged, “guess you’re gonna have to either get really fuckin’ horny, or just piss yourself. Not my problem.”

With that Nathan walked away, leaving you to suffer.

Melody's 2023 Ficversary Masterlist

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman FanFiction #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x you #nathan bateman fan fiction #nathan bateman ex Machina #nathan bateman fanfic #nathan bateman fic #ex Machina FanFiction #ex Machina fic #ex Machina smut #ex Machina fan fiction #nathan bateman smut